#i wonder how quickly I can embroider a pair of jeans with flowers and shit

[stop-stealing-my-username]

I'm dragging my friend to see the Barbie movie and I'm 100% wearing the girliest pinkest shit I own (because last time I didn't go hard enough and need to redeem myself) but how the fuck do Barbiecore and Scary Buff Lady™ in the same outfit they feel like really conflicting aesthetics

[acourtofsnakes]

Of Crowns and Armour, part 2| Bodyguard! Mando x Royal! Reader

Summary: Will Mando be true to his word about sneaking you out? Or will everything go wrong at the last moment

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, brief mentions of death, subtle references to sex (not explicit), not completely canon

Pairings: Bodyguard! Mando x Royal! Reader

Word Count: 4.3k+ 

Square filed: Bodyguard AU/ Taken Captive (hinting and leading into it ahead of next chapter) AN: @mandalorianbingo 

This is the outfit for the bar and here is Din’s car! And yes, that IS Billy Russo’s car from Punisher

Bingo Masterlist

Of Crowns and Armour: Part 1| Part 2

Permanent taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal​

The following day, you both had a meeting with your Grandma about public appearances and such, and then the Mandalorian escorted you back to your room, and promptly disappeared. 

You didn’t see him for the rest of the day.  

He wasn’t present at dinner and you couldn’t find him anywhere. 

By the time 8 o’clock rolled around, you had decided to believe he’d changed his mind about getting you to the bar. 

Still, maybe you should just sneak out. Everyone was expecting you and like Hell were you going to let them down. 

Besides, you weren’t afraid of the Mandalorian, or his threats. Your grandparents had already said the worst things they could have done, so what else did you have to lose? Short of locking you in a tower, they couldn’t do much else. 

And so, that’s why you were sat at your dressing table, finishing off the last of your makeup when there was a knock on the door. “Darling?”

Your grandmother. Shit. 

Hurriedly, you rose from your dressing table, looking for your robe, anything to cover your outfit. If she saw you, you’d be thrown in that metaphorical tower quicker than expected. 

“The Mandalorian said you weren’t very well, that you’d taken ill after dinner. I just wanted to see if you needed anything.” 

That froze you. 

The Mandalorian had lied to your grandmother? The Queen… on his first day?

He had lied. To cover you so you could go out with your friends. 

Just what kind of game was he playing? Was this an attempt to get you to like him? Did he just... not care? Or was this all some big elaborate trick designed to see if you would finally listen to your grandparents. 

Before the conspiracies could suck you too deep, you realised you should probably answer her. 

You worked to make your voice sound muted, tired, “Yes, he’s right… I was out for a walk in the garden and took a turn. I almost fainted.” You shrugged helplessly at the print of a forest hung on the wall, not knowing what else to think of. 

“Fainted? Oh, darling, do you need me to call for the nurse? I can have her here straight away to check you-“

“No! No, that’s okay… I think… I think I just need some rest.” You bit your lip, praying that would be enough and then you threw in a very believable yawn. 

You heard your grandma hesitate, “Okay… But if you aren’t any better by the morning, I’ll call for the nurse. Sleep well, darling.”

“Thank you… I will.” You knew she remained unconvinced, but her footsteps retreated from the door, leaving you bewildered still. 

Why on Earth would he lie on his first day? 

Shaking your head, you finished off getting ready, wondering if you should put on your heels or trainers – would you be going there like a normal person… or sneaking out of the palace gardens? 

Just when you were about to reach for the trainers, there was another knock, freezing you in place. 

“Princess?” Your bodyguard’s deep baritone rumbled through the wooden door. 

You sighed in relief, instead grabbing the heels and padding barefoot to the door, which you pulled open, “Hey.” 

Mando stood there, dressed in a similar dark suit to yesterday, same boots and same gloves. 

And the same helmet. 

You really needed to ask him about that.  

It was still facing you, and the Mandalorian was… silent. 

You raised an eyebrow, cocking your head, “Uh, can I help you?” You waved a hand in front his visor, and a tingle passed over your skin, almost as if… as if someone had raked an eye down you. 

The Mandalorian’s gloved hands flexed, “Your outfit…” His voice… was it a little huskier than usual? 

You looked down at your outfit, a pair of slim black jeans and a sheer mesh top embroidered with flowers. “Is there something wrong with it?�� It wasn’t over the top, or even inappropriate. Sure, it bared off your belly and the very top of your waist, but it was tasteful. 

Mando’s helmet glinted with the light as he shook his head, “No, no, it’s…” He trailed off, clearing his throat and then he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, “Ready to go?” 

Strange. 

You nodded, raising your heels, “One second.” As you stooped down to put them on, you couldn’t help but ask, “Can I ask why you lied to the Queen on the first day of your job?” 

You heard, rather than saw him shrug, “You asked me to find a way to get you to see your friends. So I did.”

Not a good enough explanation. 

You cast a glance up through your eyelashes as you secured the stap of one heel round your ankle, “But you’re my personal protection officer. The whole point is keeping me in and doing what my grandma asks you to do.” 

Mando tilted his head down to look at you, the movement oddly…. Attractive, “No, my job is to keep you safe. And your grandma asked me to also keep you cared for. And if finding a way to get you to see your friends safely where I can watch you every single second, is keeping you cared for… then I’m not breaking the rules. I would rather know where you are than encourage you to sneak off.” 

You contemplated that as you strapped up the other ankle, “Hmm.” Rising to your feet, you shut your bedroom door, “You’re an odd one, aren’t you?” 

It felt like Mando may have flashed you a grin under the helmet, but instead, he just offered you his arm, “Likewise, princess.” 

He led you out of the palace, avoiding the butlers and guards, and took you out the way you snuck out yourself. A long-forgotten door behind a willow tree in the garden. 

Of course he knew. 

But that didn’t matter because…

On the street outside, was parked an absolutely gorgeous sleek black car, sitting pretty and beautiful in the dusky light. 

The soft squeak of joy that escaped your lips was inevitable, “You drive a Wraith?!” You slipped your arm free of his, hurrying over to examine every inch of the car. 

“You like cars?” The Mandalorian couldn’t hide his surprise, watching you move around his vehicle and carefully touch the gloss paintwork. 

You peered over the bonnet at him, raising an eyebrow, “Surprised?” Turning your attention back to the car, you nodded, “Always. I used to go to car shows with my dad all the time…” You looked at the car again, thinking back to those times. 

Mando cocked his head slightly, a move that you were starting to recognise as a sort of trademark for him, but he didn’t push what you said “It’s not my everyday car. This is for work.” He walked to the passenger door, opening it for you and standing behind is as he watched you almost reluctantly make your way to his side. 

“It’s beautiful…” As you walked round, you paused as you noticed the number plate. You frowned at the letters and numbers for a second, before realising what they spelt, “Razor Crest? What’s that?” 

He merely shrugged, motioning for you to get in, not giving anything away.

Another thing to add to the list. 

Still, you settled into the car, watching him come around to the driver’s side. 

He moved with easy grace, a confident walk that was both balanced and silent. All of his movements were graceful, actually. Like he was moving to some inner tune only he could hear. Each sweep of his arm, shift of his body seemed perfectly choreographed, even with the helmet that you knew would block his peripheral. 

“You’re staring.” He closed his door, turning the engine on and it purred to life, earning a sigh of delight from yourself. 

“You move like you’re trained in dance. Or battle.” You mimicked his pondering head tilt as you watched him put on his belt. 

How could he even drive in that thing? Surely it was illegal.

The Mandalorian let out a soft huff that might have been a laugh and lifted his hand to the wheel, “That might be the first compliment you’ve given me since I started.” 

Your reply came late, because immediately, you had zeroed in what had just been revealed by his movement. 

The angle of his hands on the wheel had caused the sleeve of his suit jacket to rise up, exposing a strip of tanned, olive skin before it flowed into his leather glove. 

It sent a lick of heat through you, making you aware of the small space, the smell of is cologne, and the darkness around you. 

You just… couldn’t stop staring. 

Sure, you’d only known him a few hours, but… that strip of skin was almost like he was naked. It was smooth, the tendons of his inner wrist jutting out in a way that almost made your mouth water, before you realised exactly what you were doing. 

Quickly, you scrambled for a response, “Well, it hasn’t even been a day. Give it time.” It was an almost herculean effort to tear your eyes away from his skin. 

God’s above, get a grip. You’re not some repressed Victorian catching a glimpse of a lady’s ankle.

~~

~~~~

The night was shaping up to be really quite lovely. 

Before going to the bar, the Mandalorian had parked in the next street over and introduced you to the team he had handpicked for the night. 

No palace guards of course, since this was all strictly hush-hush. 

His team was small, consisting of two women – one who was broader built and wore a few braids in the side of her dark hair whom Mando introduced as Cara and the other slender and built almost like an assassin from the books you loved to read. She was called Fennec. They both seemed lovely, and respectful. 

There had been another man, wearing a similar helmet to Mando’s, who simply called himself ‘Fett’ in a gravelly voice. 

The final member of his team was a tall, older looking man, with rich skin and an even richer personality. He was open and bold, very friendly and didn’t stop complimenting you, and introduced himself as Greef. 

They had also informed you that your codename was Nova. Which you had to admit, did thrill you. Just a bit. 

You had a codename.

Mando and his team had watched you go in, staying a few steps behind in the line before nodding to the bouncer at the door and heading in themselves. He’d taken up a position in a shadowy alcove, and… you actually didn’t see much of him for the rest of the night. 

He stayed pretty well concealed, even when he was out in the open. Even with that helmet on. 

His team had too. The only time you noticed any of them, was when you really tried hard to look. 

Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be that bad if they had to stay. At least these guys knew how to keep the distance and not hover over you like some kind of helicopter. It allowed you to feel… normal. 

Finn’s performance had been amazing as usual, and you’d all gushed as much when he’d returned to the table with a round of shots. 

Casting a glance round for them out of curiosity, you met the gaze of the woman near the stage, her chin length red hair flashing green for a moment as a laser light passed over it. 

You’d noticed her quite a lot tonight, starting from almost as soon as you walked over to your usual table to meet the gang. 

She’d been standing near a potted fir tree and looked dead at you as you approached. 

You put it down to someone who recognised you as the princess – it wasn’t uncommon. People had a habit of staring at someone well-known. 

Turing your attention back to your friends, you re-joined the conversation.

“So, grandma really won’t let up with the PPO thing then?” Finn sipped his beer, crossing one leg over the other and he looked at you. 

Groaning, you shook your head, “Nope. Not at all.” You had just given them all a quick rundown of what had happened yesterday – Poe already knowing of course. “She says this is it now. The Mandalorian is here to stay.” You sighed, swirling your cocktail around its glass. 

Rey let out a thoughtful hum, “My step-dad told me about something a little while ago… He said back when he was an agent, there were a group of people who were like… major under-cover Special Ops. Sort of like bounty hunters, I guess. They were trained to take out any threat before it even happened, with no trace or evidence” 

Poe snorted, “So, you’re saying her PPO is an assassin?” He laughed, looking at you, “Careful you don’t piss him off, he might slit your throat in the dead of night.” 

Rey threw an olive from her drink at him, “No, you asshole. They’re not assassins. They were sent out on some of the most dangerous missions. Not a lot of people knew about them, they were like ghosts. Luke said he knew some, and the stories he would tell were… horrific. They got caught up in some really brutal things. Lots of people hated them, and there was this big scandal between the Mandalorian’s and this other group. They released hundreds of secure files, revealing the identities of the Mandalorian operatives. A whole bunch of them were killed and so were their families. That’s why they keep the helmets, even now. So no one knows who they are… so they can protect their families back home.” 

Your drink turned a little sour in your mouth as Rey finished speaking. You had called him a circus freak, laughed at his helmet… what if he was one of those operatives? What if he had been… tortured… watched his family killed? 

A cold sweat licked down your spine, bringing with it the memories of blood, of that awful, awful night you lost your parents. 

Quickly downing the rest of your cocktail, you stood up, “I’m just gonna run to the bathroom, don’t start the next round of shots without me.” You pointed at Finn, who had a tendency to be an eager beaver when it came to shots. 

“Want me to come with you?” Rey looked up from her drink, tilting her head curiously, her eyes showing concern. 

You laughed, brushing it off and scooping up your bag, “Rey, this isn’t Hutt’s.”

Hutt’s was one of the more… interesting bars you and your group often frequented. 

It was more on the side of what your grandmother would call, ‘unsavoury.’ But as long as you didn’t cause too much trouble for the guards, it was a fun night out. It also came with the guarantee of no-one looking too closely at your ID and realising who you were – of course, you had a fake ID. Not fake for the age… just the last name.

Poe laughed, shooting you a grin, “Oh, honey, you know how to have a good time at Hutt’s.” He dropped you a wink, referring to the night in question that had gotten you into that final point of trouble. 

The night of the body shots and table dancing. There had been more, but thankfully, your grandma didn’t know that. 

You raised your eyebrows, wearing a matching grin to Poe’s, “And so do you, if I recall correctly.” Amongst you all, Poe was known as… not exactly a player, but he did have a certain way with the ladies – and the occasional man. 

Finn laughed, clapping, “Ooooh, she’s right! Do you remember – “ 

Before you got sucked into a game of reliving your messiest nights, you slipped away to the bathroom. 

Just before you reached the door, you noticed the red-headed lady standing near a large potted plant, watching you again. 

Weird. Maybe you should go and see if she knows you. 

You shrugged, pushing open the door and heading inside. 

~~

~~~

God, Mando hated parties. 

Well, you couldn’t exactly call this a party. 

This was… actually kind of better than most of what he’d been stationed in previously. 

This place, Tano’s, was rather inviting, with rich décor and open spaces. There were lush plants everywhere, softening the sleek lines of the furniture.  The warm lighting was reminiscent of a sunset, providing a lovely ambience. It helped that he knew the lady who had once owned it, before passing it on to a friend. 

The bar was wide, a big sort of U shape with lots of seats. There were multiple raised seating areas, and a sunken area that faced the big stage where the princess’ friend has sung a little while ago. He was actually pretty good. 

But everything else… the clustered groups of people, the changing music, the flashing lights… 

He had never come to care for it. 

Give him open space and gentle quiet any day of the week. 

Too much noise and movement brought him back to that place. 

Reminded him of the things that had been done. 

Maybe he should go out for a breath of air. 

He almost laughed aloud at that thought. Like he would take off the helmet here. 

Too many people to see him, too many phones and cameras which might capture his face and release it to the world – to his enemies. 

God, he was on edge tonight. 

Of course, it had everything to do with the surroundings and nothing to do with the grins and flirting that the princess had exchanged with her dark headed friend. 

Or the way they had danced earlier. 

Or the way he casually slipped his arm round her shoulders as they watched Finn perform. 

He was aware that Dameron was a close friend of the princess’ but… something had flickered inside him as he’d watched. 

But that was to do with the surroundings. 

Suddenly, Fennec Shand was at his side, “Is Nova with you?” She leant against the bar casually, head tilted up like they were just having a normal, easy conversation. 

Mando straightened instantly, turning his head to her and he tried to keep his voice steady, “What? No. She was going to the bathroom. I can’t exactly go in there can I. You were going in with her.” 

“I watched her go in, but I thought you had someone in there? So… where is she?” Fennec was reaching for her comm’s earpiece, listening to the volley of updates from everyone stationed around the room  

Mando looked sideways at Fennec, his eyes almost burning holes through the visor of his helmet, “What do you mean ‘where is she?’ You were supposed to be tailing her into the bathroom.”

Fennec stared at him, shaking her head, “No, you told me to watch the door and wait for her, so it didn’t attract attention.” She scanned the room, searching the crowds of people for any sight of the Princess. 

Mando growled, his hand coming up to the top of his helmet, like he wanted to rake his gloved fingers through his hair, “I didn’t… Fuck! It doesn’t matter. We need to find her. Go.”

He practically flew across the room on a storm cloud, eyes focused on the group of friends. 

The clock began, your safety at the top and the hands od danger getting read to mark away seconds of your life.

The other girl, Rey, looked up when she saw Mando approach, “Oh! Hey, are you-“

Mando cut her off, not to be rude, but because that clock was already beginning to tick, “Have you seen her? Has she come back from the bathroom?” His voice was tight, slipping out through gritted teeth and the helmet made it sound rougher than he intended. 

Rey blinked a few times, a small frown appearing between her eyes and she looked around, realising, “I… No. She hasn’t. We thought she’d gone to find you.” Her eyes were confused, at the urgency. 

Mando stifled a hiss of annoyance, “No. I haven’t seen her come out.” 

Finn looked at him next, laughing a little, “Relax, man. It’s not unusual that she slips off at some point in the night. We’re always losing her.” He shared a laugh with Rey, who nodded affectionately. 

Did they not realise what was happening here? How were they being so… so blasé about this?

Finn was still talking, “She shows up eventually, usually with some wild story that puts us all to shame.” He grinned, a grin that said exactly what kind of story you came back with and Mando realised it wasn’t that they didn’t care, it was that they were used to her running off. 

But this feeling… the pricking in the back of his neck… 

This wasn’t just some romp in the night with a stranger. 

It was more than this. 

He knew it was. 

Some wild part of Mando snapped, and he grabbed Finn by the front of his leather jacket, hauling him up out of the chair in one fluid mood, “This is not a fucking joke.” His voice was a rough snarl, that beast poised and snapping its teeth, “Your friend is missing, and you’re sitting there laughing about it and thinking she’s run off for a quick fuck with a stranger? You really think so little of her?” Mando’s free hand twitched, a cloud of fury surging over him and almost choking him. 

“Hey!! Hey, let’s not start fighting with ourselves, here.” Poe had jumped up, and was facing Mando, tapping his arm, “Relax, okay? I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for this. Finn never once said she sleeps around, or even implied that. She just… really lets it all go some nights, which you can’t blame her for. She wouldn’t have run off for no reason, so just… relax.” He raised his eyebrows, his voice calm, trying to diffuse the situation. 

Mando blinked behind his helmet, the haze clearing from his vision as he saw Finn’s wide eyes, the faint tracery of concern and a little fear in his expression. 

Horror overtook the fear, wiping it out and Mando let Finn go quickly, soothing his jacket and he raised his hands, “I’m sorry. Just… Text her. Please.” He stumbled back one ungraceful step, and then turned, almost lurching with the uncharacteristic, unsteady gait as he walked away, feeling her friend’s eyes on the back of his polished head. 

The urge he had to throttle Finn almost terrified him and he realised with a shock that in merely fifteen hours, he had become that protective of the princess.

But that was his job. 

And this… this wouldn’t be the same as last time. 

He pressed a button on his helmet which activated the comms system, “I need eyes on Nova. Now. She was last seen heading to the bathroom. Fennec is checking there, making sure she didn’t get out. 

Fett, I want you on the terrace.” He moved through the crowd, trying his hardest not to shove people out of the way, “Cara, Greef, cover both doors. No one in and no one out until we find her.” 

~

The clock continued ticking down, each second signing away another portion of her life. 

The princess had just… vanished. 

I will tear down this whole building. 

Mando raked his eyes over every single face he came across, and that wild, untamed part of him wanted to scream at everyone, threaten them until they gave up where she’d gone. 

The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an hour. 

I will tear down the whole city. 

How could he have been so stupid? He had his best team, his most trusted people in the room tonight. Not the palace guards or security, his handpicked agents from his highest team. 

And they had still managed to lose her. 

~The sounds of screams filled the room, echoing over and over along with the unspoken truth that would haunt him until the day he died. 

He had failed.~

The Mandalorian began to make his way through the crowd to the bathroom. 

Maybe Fennec would tell him she was in there, or even that she had slipped out of the windows like an alley cat and snuck away into the night. 

Yeah, that’s probably what happened. Maybe she had… maybe she had gone to meet someone. Didn’t want babysitters trailing after her. 

The Queen had told him that she’d be a handful, that he would have to always have one eye on the surroundings and one eye on her. 

~He’d been too late. 

Too late to realise, too late to get moving. 

Too late to save them.~ 

She’d escaped, that’s all. 

The feeling in his gut told him otherwise. 

He met Fennec as she came out of the bathroom, “No one in there. None of the windows were busted either, they’re too small to let anyone out. She didn’t escape.” 

Fuck.

Trying not to think too hard about the cool sweat beginning to prickle his skin, he turned, giving the room one last sweep. 

Dameron and the others were clustered at their table, looking at their phones and shaking their heads, concern on their faces. 

They hadn’t heard from her. 

It was true then. The sinking feeling in his bones, in his heart… it was right. 

Mando reached to activate his comms, a coloured spotlight from the stage bouncing over the bar. 

If he hadn’t been so alert, he never would have seen it. 

A flash of light, like metal reflecting. 

Mando walked across the floor, slipping around a laughing couple and reaching the bar, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling in anticipation – and dread. 

There, lying on top of a discarded beer mat, was a small, metal object. 

Mando scooped it up, holding it up in his gloved palm so he could see it through the visor. A tiny little thing, smaller than a keychain…

But it felt like he was holding a live grenade. 

The object was shaped a little like the letter V, but the top sections were flared out, sort of like an arrow. 

To anyone, it would mean nothing. 

To a certain few, they would be able to notice that it looked similar to the Mandalorian’s own visor. 

But, to a select handful of people… They would know this symbol. Know which woman is belonged to.

Which was why Mando felt the world slip out from under his booted feet, the noise of the bar turning into the sound of screaming, a child’s screams, his child, begging and pleading. The lights reflecting off the wall turned into flames and the burst of a gun, flashing across his vision. He saw blood, saw the bodies littering the floor. Felt his own failure and sick terror turn his blood to ice. 

It was happening again.

She hadn’t slipped away. 

She’d been taken. 

By Bo-Katan. 

Previous| Next

[caswellprmanager]

the caswell wears prada

read it on ao3!

Summary: EJ's style is simple and functional but Ricky discovers he's capable of more than just letterman jackets and white sneakers. (Part 4 of my trans!ej and genderqueer!ricky AU.)

Author's Notes: I have this little headcanon that EJ used to model baby clothes when he was a baby. Then only went back to modelling once he transitioned to the point he was comfortable enough. Also not me giving Ashlyn's parents a purpose except for just leaving the house empty enough for Ashlyn to throw parties. Hope you guys enjoy!

Warning: Implied Sexual Content at the very end but since it's not explicit, I'll just let y'all use your imaginations.

Ricky has almost exclusively seen EJ in basic white boy clothes. It's usually just a nice fitting t-shirt, some branded jacket, jeans, and branded sneakers. It's not exactly avant-garde but Ricky can appreciate the fact that EJ has found a distinct style that's both understated yet elevates his already good looks.

But from what Ricky has learned in the few months that they've been dating EJ is that just because he dresses like that, it doesn't mean EJ does not have an eye for fashion.

Ricky learned this one day when the two of them were hanging out with Gina and Ashlyn at Ashlyn's house.

Ashlyn's mom was the Editor-In-Chief of an editorial fashion magazine that focuses on highlighting brands that promote sustainable fashion. She also runs a design company herself. Every other minute, she'd be going in and out of her design studio with a phone against her ear and a different meter of fabric in her hands. Her job is also the reason why Ashlyn's parents aren't usually home. Ashlyn's mom would be invited to different fashion events or she'd meet with a client about a new start-up. Ashlyn's dad accompanies her so that she wouldn't overwork herself.

None of that is new to Ricky. What is new, however, is EJ's involvement in her work.

"Ashlyn!" Mrs. Caswell rushes in, a hundred different scarves wrapped around her neck. Ricky wonders if she can breathe beneath all that cashmere and silk. "Darling, I need your help."

"What is it, mom?" Ashlyn asks, pausing the movie the four of them were watching.

Instead of responding, Mrs. Caswell just runs back to her home studio with a hurried click of her heels. Ashlyn looks at the rest of the group with a shrug, moving to stand up until her mom comes rushing back in – this time with a little purple hat perched on her strawberry blond locks.

"EJ, sweetheart! You come too. I need your opinion on a few things." Before any of them could say anything, she's disappeared back into her studio in a flurry of scarves and sequins.

EJ doesn't even bat an eye and moves to follow his cousin out of the living room. Ricky grabs his hand before he could leave, asking him what Ashlyn's mom wants his opinion on. EJ isn't exactly Paris Fashion Week, if Ricky was gonna be honest.

EJ just smiles, placing a chaste kiss on Ricky's lips before saying, "I'll tell you when we get back."

With that statement, Ricky and Gina are left alone, both feeling more confused than before.

"Does that happen often?" Ricky asks Gina, who is picking through the popcorn bowl.

"Ashlyn's mom being weird?" Gina tosses a popcorn kernel up into the air before catching it into her mouth flawlessly. "I've seen Ashlyn help her a few times. But I haven't seen her call EJ into that room before."

"Yeah..." Ricky picks at a loose thread on their jeans. "Didn't really peg EJ as the fashionable type."

Gina pauses in her pursuit of the perfect popcorn kernel and raises a questioning eyebrow towards Ricky. "Hold up... EJ never told you?"

"Told me... what?" Ricky started to panic a little bit. They never liked hearing ominous phrases like that from other people. It fuels their already present anxiety about dating someone who is way out of their league like EJ – someone who could leave Ricky at any time if they realize that Ricky will never be good enough for them.

Gina seems to realize this quickly enough and she tries to diffuse the situation before it gets worse. "Oh! No no no, Ricky, it isn't bad!"

"Then what is it?" Instead of answering, Gina just looks over shoulder at the direction of where the Caswell Cousins went to. After a few seconds of making sure the coast is clear, she tilts her head and motions for Ricky to follow her.

Gina leads Ricky to the spare guest room that EJ occupies sometimes when he doesn't want to sleep at home. In fact, sometimes this room is literally just called EJ's extra room because he's here so frequently. Ricky's napped here a couple of times so it isn't a new place. But he's usually too tired to explore it due to some recent emotional problem or another.

By the far wall is a dresser that Ricky hasn't ever thought to look through. Gina beckons him to come closer as she opens the bottom drawer.

"Ashlyn showed me this when I first moved in. We had to call EJ immediately after because I just had... so many questions." After a few seconds of rummaging, Gina brings out a small stack of magazines triumphantly.

Ricky recognizes the magazines immediately as the same ones Ashlyn's mom is the Editor-In-Chief for.

"Are those...?" Ricky asks and Gina nods excitedly, motioning for him to sit down next to her. The two of them peer through the old issues together, pointing at things they think would look nice on them.

Before they turn to the middle spread, Gina turns to them with a serious look in her eye. "Ricky, I need you to brace yourself."

Ricky tilts their head in confusion. "For what?"

"Just," And Gina can't even hide her giddy little smile. "Get ready."

Ricky can't even bring themself to respond before Gina is showing them the middle spread of the magazine. Their mind skids to a halt when they see a younger EJ staring back at them from the glossy pages, dressed head to toe in the finest three-piece dress suit Ricky's ever seen.

And it isn't just that, EJ's all over the spread – dressed in all kinds of outfits. From gorgeously crafted lace button downs to tastefully styled overcoats – EJ models the shit out of them. Ricky scans the pages in awe because they've never seen EJ wear stuff like this. Sure, they've seen EJ in a suit during homecoming but not one with embroidered roses across the vest or paired with diamond encrusted gold jewelry.

Gina turns the page and Ricky lets out a small gasp.

It's a two page Ashlyn and EJ spread – the cousins looking absolutely ethereal dressed in the most delicate fabric embroidered with flowers along the seams. Their skin is glowing beneath the sunset, the light catching at the highlights on their cheekbones. But what really got to Ricky is one very small but powerful detail:

The flowers along EJ's shirt and the makeup he's wearing are in the trans flag colors.

"Ricky, look." Gina points at the small interview portion at the corner of the page, smiling when Ricky reads it and realizes that it's about EJ.

E.J. Caswell – Teen Transgender Model

"I've been avoiding modeling since I started transitioning and coming back to it was really scary." Says teen model E.J. Caswell. "But when my aunt gave me the opportunity to finally speak my truth through fashion, I knew that I wouldn't regret this decision in the long run."

"There are still so many moments where I hate my body. It's gonna take a while until that goes away. And maybe it won't. Ever." E.J. tells us with a sad smile. "But this is a start – and I get to style some really cool clothes while I'm at it!"

When Ashlyn Caswell was asked about the significance of this project to her cousin and to future transgender models, she smiled softly, making it abundantly clear how much she adores her older cousin. "E.J. is one of the bravest people I know. He's always been an inspiration to me and I'm so proud of him for doing this on his own terms. Plus, I'm really happy he asked me to be a part of it with him. But don't tell him I said that! I'll never hear the end of it."

"She said that?" E.J. said with barely concealed glee. "Aww, Ashlyn!"

Ricky and Gina giggle at the mental image of EJ probably giving an exasperated Ashlyn a big bear hug after his interview. Ricky can't help but stare at the spread again, lightly trailing his finger over EJ's face with a soft smile. He really is so beautiful. Ricky sometimes can't believe that someone as gorgeous as EJ is real.

"Looks like Gina beat me to it."

The sound of EJ's voice by the doorway makes the two of them freeze and turn to see both Caswell cousins looking at them with knowing smiles. But Ashlyn and EJ weren't wearing what they were wearing before Ashlyn's mom called them for help.

Instead, Ashlyn was wearing a floor length pink chiffon dress with embroidered roses scattered along its sleeves and body. EJ was wearing a dress shirt of similar color and material, pairing it with white dress pants and a ruby encrusted rose broach.

"Well look at you two supermodels!" Gina squealed in glee, bounding over to gush over Ashlyn's outfit. Ricky stays rooted in their spot on the floor, their eyes never leaving EJ's. EJ approaches them slowly and takes a seat on the bed next to Ricky. He moves into an effortless pose, making Ricky blush more than necessary.

EJ smiles at them, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Hi."

"H-Hi." Ricky says, moving to face EJ with shaky legs. "You look nice."

"Just nice?" EJ leans down with a smirk, a lock of hair falling to his forehead like some goddamn romance movie. Ricky didn't even notice that even his hair was styled differently. Was EJ growing his hair out? Why didn't he warn me?

"I'd say something dirtier but I don't wanna traumatize the girls." EJ laughs at that and Ricky could only stare at the way EJ throws his head back with the most beautiful smile they've ever seen.

This isn't fair. EJ is sitting here looking like he was plucked straight out of a Vogue magazine while Ricky's sorry ass is on the floor in pajama pants and an old hoodie. Fuck. They should have texted Kourtney for help with their outfit today.

"You're so cute," EJ leans forward even closer, so close that EJ's able to lightly graze their noses together. "Maybe I should dress like this more often to make you blush like that."

Ricky contemplates on the statement for a bit, imagining what it would be like if EJ were to wear more designer clothes to school everyday. EJ right now certainly looks confident and cool. Plus, he gets the added bonus of Ricky looking extra flustered around him.

But at the end of the day, it's EJ's body and EJ gets to choose whatever makes him feel good.

Besides, Ricky fell for EJ without all the bells and whistles.

"You don't have to wear fancy clothes to make me think you're gorgeous." Ricky says before they can stop themself from saying it. But it's out now and there's no turning back. EJ's eyes widen but they eventually soften after processing what Ricky said.

"It doesn't matter what I think, though." Ricky says, reaching for EJ's hand. "What matters is that you're happy. Whether you're wearing a potato sack or Versace. As long as you feel comfortable and you're seeing your favorite self in the mirror, I'll tell you that you're the most handsome boy in the world."

Ricky scoots closer to place a soft kiss on EJ's nose before pressing their foreheads together. Ricky can't really tell who's smiling wider from this angle but they didn't care.

"My handsome boy." Ricky whispers, lightly tracing EJ's bottom lip with their thumb. EJ smiles even wider at the sound of that and it never fails to make Ricky happy seeing EJ so happy.

They're about to move in for another kiss when they hear Ashlyn cough from the doorway.

The two of them separate abruptly, both blushing profusely as the girls giggle behind their hands.

"We'll leave you two alone," Ashlyn says, grabbing Gina's hand to pull her back to the living room. "I'll tell mom you'll be late for dinner."

As soon as the door closes behind the girls, Ricky turns back to a still blushing EJ, a small but urgent thought manifesting to the front of their mind.

"I should take this off-" EJ doesn't even get the chance to finish his sentence before Ricky is pushing him down on the bed and straddling his hips. "R-Ricky?"

Ricky smirks, placing a single finger on EJ's lips as they lean forward to whisper in his ear,

"I'll help you take it off." EJ lets out the smallest whimper at that but Ricky shushes him, blowing against his earlobe. "But you have to be quiet, handsome."

As soon as EJ shakily nods his head yes, Ricky gets to work.

Unfortunately, they're more than a little late for dinner.

---

A/N: I've added some reference pics below if y'all want a better image of what EJ and Ashlyn were wearing hehe :>

[elle-in-hell]

when the day met the night

hey here’s a new reddie fic for y’all! it’s my first multi-chapter fic so hopefully it isn’t terrible! 

florist!eddie & tattooartist!richie

find it on ao3 here

chapter 1 - snapdragons (strength & grace)

“Alright, I’m taking off! See ya’ in an hour!” Eddie’s best friend and coworker, Stan, called as he left for his lunch break. The small bell above the door jingled, signaling his departure as Eddie gave a small wave before propping himself on top of the counter and let his legs hand over the side.

He had been working at the local Derry florist for a few summers since he turned sixteen and as much as he hated having to talk to people and actually have things to do, he liked the flowers and his coworkers were pretty nice. It almost felt like a little rebellion when he first took the job. Ever since he had discovered about his mother faking all of his illnesses, he made it his mission to finally experience and appreciate all of the things she kept from him as a kid. Flowers were one of them. Peaceful rebellions that consisted of making bouquets and stacking flower pots was more his style anyway. Work was slow, as almost always, and Eddie meticulously just began re-organizing the seed packets on display beside him. However, almost instantly, the door chimed again and Eddie jumped, dropping his handfuls of seed packets at the unexpected noise. He quickly hopped off the counter, kneeling down as he attempted to pick up as many packets as he could before anyone noticed. Just when he thought he was in the clear, a seconds set of hands appeared in front of him, cleaning up the small boy’s mess. The chipped black nail polish was unlike anything Eddie had expected to see from someone coming through that door. He collected the rest of his things, placing them in a pile on the counter before looking up at the person standing before him.

A large, worn leather jacket rested loosely on the thin frame of a very, very lanky boy. He towered over the smaller boy at what he would guess to be over six feet tall. An equally ill-fitting Rolling Stones shirt covered his chest underneath and dozens of bracelets lines his wrists. His impossibly long legs wore ripped black jeans and a ratty pair of old canvas shoes covered in doodles hid his antsy feet. Eddie wondered if he had drawn them himself. Long dark hair was tied up messily atop his head and allowed his pierced ears to be seen, along with a tiny tattoo of a paper boat behind his ear. Giant turtle shell glasses magnified his wide brown eyes and Eddie Kapsbrak felt his heart skip about ten beats.

Needless to say, flaming bisexual Richie Tozier felt more than a little enamored just staring at the smaller boy. A dark green apron with a daisy in the front also held his name; ‘Eddie’ embroidered in pretty white writing. A pastel pink polo shirt stuck out from under the apron and made the rosy blush on his freckled cheeks even more prominent. Perfectly arranged brown waves rested delicately on top of his head and Richie couldn’t stop himself from loving how small the other boy was.

“Hi,” Eddie rushed out, instantly second-guessing how his voice sounded or if the boy even wanted to be bothered. “C-can I help you?”

Richie smiled. How could he not?

A soft chuckle escaped his chapped lips as he plucked a small flower from a display beside him and began to twiddle it in his fingers.

“I work across the street, actually. I usually just stick around during my break, but my girl’s home sick so I thought I’d come check the place out,” he said, never moving his gaze from the flower in his hands.

Eddie felt a pang in his heart. Oh. He had a girlfriend. Of course he did.

“Oh, okay, well if you need anything, just let me know,” Eddie spoke softly, forcing himself to turn away from the boy and attempting to mask the disappointment in his voice. Just as he was about to begin re-organizing the seed display he had ruined, the boy decided he wasn’t yet.

“Actually, um, my friend Bev, well, uh, maybe some flowers would make her feel better, you know?” He chuckled awkwardly, adjusting his glasses as he rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand. He had that little hopeful glint in his eye.

Eddie couldn’t help but grin, both at his use of the word ‘friend’ rather than ‘girlfriend’ and that he might actually get to know this boy. He nodded, stepping out from behind the counter and immediately leading the tall boy around the store.

“So do you happen to have any of those flowers that mean thinks? You know, like the ones where each color means something else?”

Eddie chuckled and nodded.

“You mean all flowers?” He teased, loving the blush that immediately covered the tall boy’s face.

“R-right,” he said awkwardly. “Got anything that means ‘get well soon’?”

When the smaller boy nodded, picking a few white hyacinths, snapdragons, and goldenrods and tossing them into a basket, Richie smiled, only feeling slightly out of place.

They collected enough flowers for a small bouquet that Eddie tied up with a light blue ribbon, symbolizing health and tranquility, as Richie tossed a twenty dollar bill onto the counter as he collected his bouquet and turned towards the door.

“Wait!” Eddie called, feeling a sudden rush of confidence. “Y-you forgot your change.”

Richie just turned around and smiled his signature crooked grin as he winked, continuing to leave.

“Keep it. Call it a tip for your troubles,” he said, and Eddie couldn’t help but blush. “Maybe pop on by across the street sometime.”

The small boy’s brain did a double-take.

“I, uh, yeah! I mean, yes! Sure! I mean, maybe, if I can,” Eddie rambled, face-palming immediately afterwards at his inability to form coherent sentences. Fuck, why was this so difficult?

“I’ll keep my eye out, Eds,” the boy said, winking as he closed the door behind him, the bell chiming to show that this time, he was actually gone. Eddie draped himself across the counter dramatically and repeatedly banged his forehead against the painted wood.

It didn’t take long before the bell chimed again, and Eddie flipped his hair out of his face, folding his arms under his chin.

Stanley Uris stalled back into the shop with a plastic bag swinging in his hand and a worn notebook under his opposite arm. His blond curls were covered by a beanie due to the cold fall weather and he deposited all three items onto the counter beside Eddie.

“Well you look like shit,” he teased, smirking at the much smaller boy. Eddie groaned, peeling himself off of the counter and leaning up against the wall behind him. “Seriously, what the hell have you been doing?”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, still unable to get the boy out of his head.

“So this guy came in a little while ago,” he started, obviously peaking his friend’s interest as he raised a curious eyebrow. “And basically I still haven’t recovered.”

Stan rushed away and Eddie watched on as he flipped the door sign from reading ‘open’ to ‘closed’.

“Okay, spill everything,” he pleaded dramatically, probably needing to talk about someone else’s love life other than his own.

Eddie chuckled, hopping back up onto the counter.

“So basically he’s perfect.”