#if you don���t agree you’re blind

[yandere-daze]

I’m the anon who sent in that ask about the alt world royals. I don’t mind that you took a while to answer it; in fact, it was mostly sent in with the intention of simply sharing some thoughts since I didn’t have anywhere else to put them heehee. But I’m glad you liked it, and I thought I’d share more! Been a few months since I played it, though, so sorry if there are any minor inaccuracies.

Two of my three favorite alt royals to think about are the Brodians. I think alt Diamant would get soooo jealous of his counterpart. He’s everything he wants to be; confidant, brave, and the object of your affections. Strong enough to protect you. Though if main world him is still dancing around his feelings for you, it makes him both relieved that you’re single, and frustrated. THAT’S the one thing he has in common with his counterpart??? An inability to confess?????

For alt Alcryst, his jealousy would manifest as anger. What do you MEAN this cowardly, pitiful version of himself is the one you have feelings for?! This other him can’t even work up the courage to confess to you! Yeah, your alt self didn’t like him back, but at least he was willing to shoot his shot! But despite your obvious attraction to him, his counterpart is blind to it!

My third favorite alt royal to think about? Fogado. Hoo boy. I can actually see him falling for you despite never knowing your alt world counterpart. He and his friends were busy roaming around and having their fun, while alt you was off elsewhere. Maybe you were friends with alt Timerra, but during a time he was very much actively avoiding her. So he just sees main world you and suddenly his heart is beating fast and hard. The only people he’s ever given a shit about are his two deceased best friends, but this is… something different. He wants to do horrible things together with you like he did with them, but he also wants to hold you. What in the world is this feeling, and how does he make himself feel it more? And of course, there’s also the fact he canonically mentions wanting to kill and replace main world Fogado….

Welcome back anon! I really did love reading your thoughts on alt world shenanigans and I agree so much!

Alt Diamant is so sad and unconfident and he sees his counterpart just casually talking to you and he feels even sadder because he wants to have the confidence to do that as well. :/ If only he was stronger, if only he was more worthy of being with you. It hurts knowing that in an alternate world, he might have stood a chance but as he is now, there´s just no way for his dream to become reality.

For alt Alcryst, it´s kind of the opposite sentiment. He´s strong, he´s confident, he has it all. And yet you would prefer to hang around that pathetic wimp of a man posing as him? He refuses to believe that there´s any world where he would be this weak. It angers him to just watch you fuss over this "alternate self" of his while he continues to wallow in self-pity. What could you possibly see in him? Alt Alcryst doesn´t understand and the more he has to see this go on, the angrier and more jealous he gets. He refuses to debase himself by acting so pitifully and yet he´s at a loss on how to earn your affection. The you of this world rejected him and yet he can´t help but yearn all the same. He´s way more deserving to be the one by your side instead of that weakling!

As a sidenote, I 100% that Alt Alcryst wouldn´t hesitate to kill his main world self out of pure jealousy.

Boyyy Alt Fogado really is something. I don´t think I´m breaking any new ground when I say that he´s probably the creepiest of all the alt royals. He rejoices in bloodshed and violence and he´s just all around pretty messed up. So for him to fall in love with someone? That´s scary.

I actually don´t think Alt Fogado could ever love someone normally, even if I didn´t specifically choose to portray him as a yandere. I can´t imagine him being really wholesome, he´s not that kind of person. he just feels his heart beat fast when he thinks of you and from then on he makes it his mission to make you his, no matter the sacrifices. In fact, sacrifices are a plus for him! Especially if it´s that troublesome other self of his. It really annoys him when he sees that guy stick around you so much. Who does he think he is, laying his hands on the person that no doubt belongs to him? He´ll be sure to set him straight.

[coweye]

Guys My Age - PT.1

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x Miller!Reader Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: After four years away, you return home to realise that maybe everything you’ve been looking for was right in front of you all along.

Warnings: Mention of depression, Slow burn - no smut yet but it will eventually be horrifically filthy 18+ only pls gang, LEGAL Age Gap. 

Note: This bad bois been worming its way to the surface for a while now, hope you enjoy! 💕 I apologise in advance for the slow burn.

⇢MASTERLIST

Life was strange sometimes.

Here you were, back in the hometown you’d sworn never to return to after four years away, flanked by your older brother Benny. 

Two thirds of the Miller gang back together, reunited or at least you had been.

“I’ma get us a table, you order the drinks.” Ben muttered distractedly whilst scouting out potential tables.

“Hey, I’m supposed to be destitute, the least you could do is get the first round in.” The sad thing is, you’re only half joking. He rolled his eyes at your expense, before handing you his credit card and continued on his journey to get a table, presumably with a great view of the blonde woman he’d spotted upon entry to the bar. Benny was predictable if nothing else, it was part of his charm. 

So, you pushed your way forward through the throng of warm bodies, Friday night at Flanagans was a nightmare but you had agreed to be sociable as Santiago was in town, so you’d made the sacrifice and took a night off from your crushing depression to don a nice t-shirt and apply makeup for the first time in the two weeks since moving into Will’s back room.

You smiled what you hoped was a somewhat friendly lift of your lips at the bartender and ordered two beers, as you were waiting you heard the familiar call of Santiago Garcia - the man who you’d spent your teen years obsessed with. 

He was gorgeous inside and out, though your crush had morphed into something a lot more wholesome and you had a genuine platonic love for the man, as an extension of your brothers.

“How have you been, guapa? God, long time no see!” He all but cried, clearly already a couple of beers in as wrapped you in a strong hug, pulling you onto your tiptoes. He wasn’t lying, you hadn’t seen Santiago in two maybe three years ago now. 

Time had gotten away from you and your visits had become less and less frequent, especially with the boys being deployed, you couldn’t say you were happy to be back, but it was certainly nice to see them all again.

“I know, damn, you got old!” You chuckle as his face straightens out in feigned hurt. “Like fine wine, Santi, Fine wine!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Stop flirting, you two.” Will grumbles as he slides through the crowd to lean on the bar beside you, lifting three fingers up to the bartender who had already placed the pints of beer before you. 

“Where have you been?” You question raising an eyebrow “I’ve been back at least two weeks.”

“I’ve been in Australia for a little while, it's nothing serious but-”

“Pope’s got a girlfriend now, Squirt.” The low voice is a new one, but only one person used to call you that awful nickname. 

You turn to see Francisco Morales behind you, his eyes are older than the rest of him but still irrevocably kind and he has an easy smile painted on his lips. You can’t quite remember him being this handsome as your eyes drink him in, perhaps you’d been blinded by the effortless beauty of Santiago as a teen but my god, Catfish had almost floored you. 

“Frankie!” You smile - all teeth, trying somewhat successfully for an air of normalcy despite your brain processing the change that five years has had on your taste in men and pulling him in for his own hug. 

You tried to stop yourself, you honestly did but as you breathed in, the smell of him overtook you, the spicy scent of cinnamon and sweet vanilla; the man somehow smelled like a goddamn cupcake and you had the biggest sweet tooth. 

Locking your inner sex offender deep down inside a box so as to not assault the man you’d held in a hug for what was becoming longer than appropriate, you pulled away. 

“A girlfriend?” You question, your brain scrambling for something to talk about other than those brown eyes. You can’t help the smirk that sneaks its way across your lips as you tease the man before you. “Santiago Garcia, have you gone soft on me in your old age?”

He huffs as he grabs his beer. “Fuck off, baby Miller.” 

The three of you chortle in response to his defeated tone as he walks towards the table Ben has secured. Will grabs at his wallet, hand coming out to stop you in confusion when you hold out a card to pay. 

You shake your head and shrug. “Ben’s treat.” 

That kills any argument on his tongue as he picks up his drink and follows Santi’s lead. You can’t help but chuckle at your brothers, you had missed them both so much. 

You’re very quickly aware of Frankie lingering to your left, waiting for you to finish paying, ever the gentleman. 

You turn to him as the machine processes the transaction. 

“Your-”

“How-” You both chuckle, the two of you have always been the quiet ones of the group, more observant with witty one liners thrown in than the loud mouths currently chatting at your table. 

It seems years apart haven’t helped either of your awkwardness.

“You go…” You dismiss with a quick laugh when he waits for you to speak.

“I was just gonna say, it's nice to have you back!” He shrugged before gesturing to side of him “After you,” 

Frankie creates a barrier with his body for your fellow thirsty patrons who want your spot at the bar. You pick up yours and Bens drinks and turn to find the guys. 

Frankie’s hand finds your lower back as he guides you through, its innocuous enough, hell if you hadn’t been drooling over the man minutes before you wouldn’t have given it so much as a second thought, but that palm guarding you from the brunt of the crowd was like molten lava slowly burning your flesh. 

“W-Well, it’s good to be back! I’m not going anywhere in a hurry!” You pretty much shout over the deafening ambient chatter around you. His low voice is in your ear when he replies, you force yourself not to close the distance and push your spine into his chest, Frankie isn’t like that; Hell, he has a girlfriend and baby at home.

He’s just being friendly - he’s known you since you were seventeen. 

“You miss your friends back home?”

“They’re not my friends. None of those assholes let me sleep on their goddamn sofas.” Trying to break the tension only you seemed to be feeling with a joke, it seems to work as he chortles.

“Well you’re more than welcome to my sofa if Will ever gets too much, Squirt.” You couldn’t explain the things that this man saying the word squirt to you was doing. No matter the context, even if it was because you squirted slurpee from your nose when laughing too hard when you were a teenager. 

“I may hold you to that - he bit my head off the other day because I didn’t wash a glass the second I used it, I swear-” You’re cut off when you find the booth rather quickly, the raucous laughter from the rangers acting as a siren call.  You slide in beside Ben and turn to your other brother “-I was just telling Frankie, how much of a control freak you are.”

And because God hates you, Francisco slides in beside you. 

…

You were a grown woman and you had a ridiculous infatuation.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying either, after sitting in that bar you had made an effort to block out the sensation of his thigh against your own or when he leaned back against the plush fabric and wrapped his arm around the back of the booth.

But so help you god you were only human, you couldn’t help but laugh a little harder at his jokes than the others or the warmth that flooded your belly when you’d meet his eyes as you told a story and find his chocolate orbs transfixed on you as if you were telling a great tale - rather than an anecdote about how you dislocated your tailbone last year when you were drunk on some stairs.

It wasn’t even as if it was just his looks - though you were big enough to admit that initially that had been a large part of it.  It was the ease you felt around him, the kindness you could see clear as day painted on his face. 

Though you knew, deep down in your toxic heart of hearts, buried beneath your daddy issues and depression, this deep desire was because he wasn’t all that interested. 

It wasn’t as if he ignored you, no. He was friendly, but he had no interest in you besides just that, being a friend. 

He had a baby and a girlfriend and you weren’t a home wrecker.

He was your brother's best friend, an extension of your family. 

These were all things you reminded yourself about as you lay in bed alone staring up at the ceiling the morning after.

You could just be his friend, right?

⇢ Next Part

[hrina]

Be Sweet, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M (minors dni!) WORD COUNT: 6k

hey everyone! here's part one of my new enemies-to-lovers series :) this fic will be five parts in total, but i'm only posting the first part on tumblr. you'll be able to read the rest of it on patreon if you wanna sign up!

as always, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated. i love hearing your thoughts! enjoy.

~*~

August 27th, 2021

“Who’s opening tomorrow?”

Ella scrubs a wet rag across the table closest to the door. You cast a furtive glance up at her, flipping absentmindedly through the jumble of papers on the counter in front of you. Nick’s messy scrawl catches your eye, and you pause, reading the haphazard comment written at the bottom of the page.

Customer requested a very specific shade of pink trim. See back for details.

You flip the order, scoffing at the Pantone strip taped to the other side. The square labelled Quartz Pink has been singled out, encircled in bright red. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Alice and Olly, I think,” you say, shoving the form to the bottom of the pile.

“That’s good,” Ella grunts, returning the napkin holder and the sugar dispenser back to their spots on the table. “And you’ll swing by sometime during the afternoon?”

“Yeah,” you say, drumming your fingers over the papers. “I’m gonna help Olly in the back. You know how much he hates dealing with fondant.”

“How could I forget?” Ella rolls her eyes, smiling to herself. You grimace when she tosses the damp cloth in your direction. It lands on the counter with a loud splat! You nudge it away with your elbow, shaking your head.

“Gross.”

“You’re gross,” Ella says.

“I’m lovely,” you reply. She grins.

“Where’s Alex taking you tonight?” you ask, changing the subject. Her eyes light up instantly, and she clasps her hands together against her chest.

“It’s a surprise,” she says, giggling girlishly.

You groan. “I hate surprises.”

“It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend, then, isn’t it?” she retorts. You snicker, and she continues: “He told me we should stop off at home to change, though, so I’m guessing that wherever it is, there’s a dress code.”

“Ooh, fancy.”

“Right?” She twists her wrist, peeking at her watch. “He should have been here by now. It’s already a quarter past seven.”

“The hospital is just down the street,” you remind her, organising the mountain of orders into a neat stack. “Give him another five minutes.”

She nods. You spin on your heel and push through the door leading to the backroom of the bakery. The large space is split into two sections: on your right, there’s a wall of ovens, and a cluster of metal racks filled with pale, unprocessed dough. On your left, tables and counters lined with all sorts of decorating necessities—piping bags, spatulas, scrapers, turntables. You make your way toward the small cabinet perched against the nearest wall and pull out the top drawer, sliding the orders inside. Olly should have no trouble locating them tomorrow morning.

When you return to the front of the shop, Ella is locked in a passionate embrace with a gangly, dark-haired man. You recognise him immediately.

“Doctor Dao,” you call out, resting your elbows on the counter. “Did you at least wash your hands before putting them all over my best friend?”

Alex and Ella break apart swiftly, but he keeps one arm wrapped around her waist. “Hey, cookie,” he says, flashing you an apologetic grin. “Didn’t see you there.”

You arch one brow, lips curling into an amused smirk. “I’ll say.”

Only then do you catch sight of the other man lingering by the door, and your smile quickly morphs into an irritated frown. Harry is watching you with twinkling eyes, like he knows the effect his presence has on you. How could he not? You don’t try to hide your disdain, especially when it comes to him.

“Harry,” you say curtly, lifting your chin in stubborn acknowledgement.

He brings two fingers to his temple—a mock-salute. “Sweetheart.”

You clench your jaw. God, he makes your blood boil. Rather than responding, you turn back to Alex, who is now smoothing his palms over Ella’s silky brown hair. “You’re late,” you tell him. “You were supposed to be here when we closed.”

“Sorry, cookie,” Alex says, and he sounds like he means it. “My last surgery of the day had a few…complications.”

You purse your lips as the annoyance melts away. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He nods, blowing out a heavy breath. He looks tired. “We figured it out.”

“That’s good.”

Alex directs his attention back to Ella, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “Just let me grab my bag.”

“Cool,” he says. “You don’t mind if we drop Harry off at his place, right? His car is fucked, apparently.”

Ella’s grey eyes widen. She peers over her boyfriend’s shoulder at Harry. “What happened?”

Harry waves away her concerns, chuckling quietly. He tugs on the collar of his blue scrubs, and you can’t stop your gaze from trailing across the plethora of tattoos inked into his arm. Your nose wrinkles at the sight. He looks ridiculous. What kind of doctor would agree to don such outrageous body art?

“He’s being dramatic,” Harry says, shooting Alex a pointed glare. “My car’s at the shop right now, but I’ll have it back by tomorrow evening at the latest.”

“Oh.” Ella relaxes. “Okay, that’s great. Babe—” She turns to Alex. “—when are our reservations?”

“Eight-thirty,” Alex says. “Plenty of time.”

“Awesome,” she chirps. She scurries around the counter and playfully bumps her hip against yours. “My purse is in the back. Give me one second.”

And then she’s gone.

You stare at Alex, fighting a clever smile. “Tonight’s the night, huh?” you murmur, quiet enough so that there’s no chance of Ella overhearing.

He beams, shouldering his knapsack and dragging his sweaty palms down the front of his shirt. His scrubs are a light purple, you note. The shade compliments his dark skin.

“Yeah,” he replies, gnawing anxiously on his bottom lip. “She’ll say yes, right?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “Of course she will.”

Just then, Ella bursts through the door, her leather purse swinging wildly against her waist. “Alright!” She claps once, striding over to you and planting a wet, sloppy kiss onto your cheek. “I’m off.”

“Bye,” you say, wiping her saliva from your face with the back of your hand. “Have fun.”

Alex waves at you as she tugs him out of the bakery. “See you later, cookie.”

You wink. “See you.”

Harry is the last one to leave. He glances at you momentarily, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smug smile. The look makes you bristle. He’s absolutely infuriating.

“Got any leftover almond croissants?” he asks. Silent laughter taints every word.

You point to the exit. “Get out.”

He bows his chin in farewell, approaching the door. “Sweetheart.”

“Asshole,” you reply flatly. Now that your friends are out of earshot, you’re under no obligation to tolerate him. Sometimes, you find yourself actually craving his company, just so you can drop the pretence and really give him a piece of your mind. You’re a mature adult, and you won’t ruin a social gathering because of one presumptuous dickhead, but everyone has their limits. You don’t owe him shit.

Harry chuckles to himself, and you clench your fists at your sides. He shoots you one last maddening smirk before disappearing out the door. You rush forward, latching it swiftly and ensuring that the sign against the glass reads ‘CLOSED’. Once you’ve successfully locked up, you march into the back of the shop, plucking your own purse off one of the metal counters and tugging it over your shoulder. You shut the light and return to the front, scanning the clean tables, the empty display cases, the shades drawn over the windows. Shards of the sunset stream through the cracks in the blinds, casting orange stripes along the floor.

All clear, a voice in your head whispers, and you sigh.

Finally—you can go home.

August 28th, 2021

Quick, frantic knocking rouses you from your sleep. Blearily, you sit up on the mattress, knuckling at your puffy eyes. The hardwood floor is cold against the soles of your feet when you climb out of bed. You shiver.

The insistent clamour continues as you pad down the hallway. You tug at the hem of your worn, baggy t-shirt, concealing your midriff. Ella wastes no time after you open the front door, surging past the threshold and vaulting herself into your arms.

“He proposed!” she squeals as the two of you stagger backward. You freeze, remembering Alex’s plans from the day before. His apprehension, too—the way he wiped his clammy palms against his scrubs and anxiously dug his teeth into his bottom lip. Shock ebbs and flows through your veins for a fraction of a second, but then you’re sweeping Ella into a tight hug, rocking your bodies from side to side.

“Oh my God,” you say. Excitement festers beneath the murky exhaustion clouding your mind. “He did it.”

Ella steps back, brows knitting together in bewilderment. “You knew?” When you nod, she scoffs, aiming a half-hearted swat at your bicep. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?” you retort, rolling your eyes at the demand. “Come on. Let’s see it.”

A bright grin stretches across her lips, and she holds up her left hand, wiggling her fingers keenly. You spy the ring resting on the fourth digit: a simple platinum band topped with a large, clear diamond. Grey morning light bounces off the gemstone, and it winks at you as if it knows something that you don’t.

“Gorgeous,” you breathe, gripping Ella’s wrist to bring her hand closer. You scrutinize the ring carefully, smiling to yourself. “He’s got good taste.”

“Doesn’t he?” she gushes, beaming like an idiot. You beckon her into the kitchen, and she collapses onto one of the tall stools positioned in front of the marble island. A quick glance at the digital clock on the stove reveals that it’s only eight in the morning. You groan, rubbing gentle circles against your temples.

“I was hoping I’d get to sleep in today,” you say, lips curling into a wry smirk.

Ella shoots you a sheepish, apologetic smile, sliding her purse off her shoulder and placing it on the counter. “I’m sorry, cookie. I couldn’t wait.”

“I’m just kidding,” you tell her, floating around the room to prepare a pot of coffee. “So…how did he do it?”

She launches into a frenzied retelling of the night before. Alex brought her to the same restaurant they’d visited four years ago on their first date. They ordered their food and made conversation. Things proceeded as usual until the end of the meal, at which point Alex set his napkin down on the table and excused himself to the restroom. Two minutes later, the waiter arrived with the bill. Ella accepted it graciously, scanning the thin paper and pausing at the question scrawled at the very bottom of the slip. When she snapped her head up, searching for her boyfriend in the crowded dining area, she found him kneeling a few feet away from her chair, a small velvet box nestled securely in his steady hands.

“I started crying immediately,” she tells you, groaning at the memory. “I couldn’t keep it together. It was so embarrassing.”

You toss your head back and laugh. Despite the crimson blush staining her cheeks, she joins in. The coffeemaker beeps, signalling that the pot is ready. You fetch two mugs from the cupboard and fill them with dark liquid. Ella accepts her drink eagerly, blowing cool air across its surface. You grimace as she takes a tentative sip—you’ve never understood her penchant for unsweetened black coffee. Sugar and cream are a must.

“I’m so happy for you, El,” you tell her, stirring a small spoon around your mug. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.”

Her eyes grow damp. You snicker quietly, reaching across the island and swiping your thumb beneath her bottom lashes. She catches your hand and kisses your knuckles softly, clearing her throat.

“Will you—?” She releases a shuddering breath. “Will you be my maid of honour?”

You stiffen at her request. Her gaze rakes over your face, like she’s searching for any clue as to how you might respond. At last, your shoulders sag in relief, and an ecstatic smile splits across your cheeks.

“Of course,” you say, voice thick. Tears gather in your own eyes, but you blink them back furiously. “I would love nothing more.”

She sets her coffee down and skirts around the counter, yanking you into another bone-crushing hug. You grin as she presses a handful of sloppy kisses to the side of your head. Her elbow knocks against your abandoned mug, and a few drops of coffee spill down the side of the cup. You laugh at her enthusiasm, pulling back and sweeping your hands over her silky hair.

“It’s probably way too soon, but have you guys started discussing anything?” you ask, arching one eyebrow.

Ella flushes pink, averting her gaze. “Um…when we got home, there wasn’t really much of a discussion going on.”

You cackle, poking at her ribs. “Oh, he gave it to you good, didn’t he? It’s a miracle that you’re not limping right now.”

“Be quiet,” she yelps, stamping her eyes shut.

You lift your hands and shoot her a teasing smirk. “I’m not judging, okay? If anything, I’m living vicariously through your various sexual conquests. It’s been months since I last got any action.”

“Maybe that should change,” Ella says, folding her arms over her chest. “You and Harry could probably fuck out your frustrations. His dick is huge, apparently.”

You balk. “Ella!”

She shrugs, grey eyes widening comically. “What? Alex told me!”

You snort, but say nothing. She watches you cautiously, examining your features for any signs of acquiescence. Any indication that you might actually be considering her lewd suggestion. You almost gag.

“Why do you hate him so much, anyway?” Ella asks, flicking an invisible speck of lint off her shoulder. “You’re not still hung up on that fiasco with the almond croissant, are you?”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” you say, and she sighs.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But can you at least try to be civil while we plan the wedding? For my sake.”

After mulling over her words, you slouch in defeat. “Fine. But only for you,” you say, throwing a stern finger in her face.

She beams. “Thank you.” Something dirty flashes behind her pale eyes. “And if you do end up sleeping with him, I want all the details.”

You shove her gently and scoff. She laughs.

“Honestly,” you start, shaking your head, “it doesn’t matter how huge his dick is. I’d rather walk across hot coals than let somebody like him climb into my bed.”

“What makes you think it wouldn’t be the other way around?” Ella snickers. You glare at her, but she just steps back, raising her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, fine. Have it your way. But I’m expecting you to find someone in time for the big day. Don’t let your plus-one go to waste.”

You roll your eyes, thoroughly unconvinced. “Noted.”

September 2nd, 2021

“Olly!” you call, sticking your head into the backroom. “Ella and I are going on our lunch break, but Leyla will be here in, like, twenty minutes. You going to be okay by yourself until then?”

Olly doesn’t even bother looking over his shoulder, too busy piping little flowers along the sides of the rectangular cake laid out in front of him. He lifts one hand, waving away your concerns before running his palm over his short blue hair. He buzzed and dyed it just last week after claiming that he couldn’t stand how the long brown curls stuck to the nape of his neck. It took a few days to get used to the change, but now that the initial shock has faded, you have to admit that he looks great.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Olly says, putting the finishing touches on the cake. He sets his piping bag down and turns toward you, wiping his palms against his red apron. His left ear bears a swirl of shiny silver piercings. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Thanks,” you say, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and then you’re spinning on your heel and letting the door swing shut behind you.

You find Ella waiting outside the bakery. She urges you along, and you squawk at her impatience.

“What’s the rush?” you ask, falling into step with her as you both amble down the sidewalk. “We have forty-five minutes.”

“I don’t want Alex’s sandwich to get cold,” she explains, holding up the small paper bag clutched in her right hand. You snort.

The two of you make it to Ridgefield Hospital in record time, mostly because Ella grips your arm and gives it a forceful tug whenever you start lagging behind. You walk through the automatic doors, ignoring the row of ambulances parked outside. The secretaries sitting at the front desk shoot you a few distracted smiles—they’ve all grown accustomed to your frequent visits by now.

Ella babbles endlessly as you enter the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor and waiting as the metal doors slide shut.

“I want to ask Alice and Leyla to be part of the bridal party, but I’m scared the guys will feel bad if Alex doesn’t choose them as his groomsmen. Like, I think they’d understand, considering I work with the girls and we’re all pretty close, but I don’t know.” She nudges you with her elbow. “What do you think?”

“I think you should do whatever the fuck you want,” you tell her, shrugging. “It’s your wedding. And I don’t think Olly, Marcus, or Nick will mind if they’re not part of the bridal party. Olly doesn’t care about that stuff, and Marcus and Nick already have their hands full with their jobs at the bakery. Plus, they know Alex has his own friends—not just the ones he’s met through you.”

Ella nibbles on her bottom lip, her head bobbing in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You lay a placid hand on her shoulder. “You’re already overthinking this. You’ve only been engaged for a week. Enjoy it.”

She shoots you a grateful smile just as the elevator dings and the doors glide open, and the two of you step out onto the hospital’s paediatric floor. It’s a stark contrast to the other sections of the building. Instead of barren white walls, these ones are painted with all sorts of pretty, colourful decorations—flowers, rainbows, sunsets, animals. A massive sign in front of you denotes the different divisions on the floor and where to find them: the ICU, the operating rooms, the palliative unit, the psychiatry wing, and the oncology department. You and Ella turn right, making the familiar trek to Alex’s office.

“He should be on his lunch break, too,” she says. “Unless they paged him for another emergency surgery.”

You hum in response.

Sure enough, you find Alex at his desk, twirling a blue pen between his fingers as he pores over the stack of papers in front of him. Ella knocks gently against the open door, and his face lights up when he spies her standing in the threshold. He moves quickly, crossing the room in five long strides, and plants a searing kiss onto her lips. You look away, rocking awkwardly on the balls of your feet.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs after he and Ella break apart. That’s when he notices you behind her. “Hey, cookie.”

“Hey,” you reply. You toss your thumb over your shoulder. “I’m just going to—you know, the usual.”

He nods.

The last thing you see before you turn around is Ella holding up the brown paper bag, and Alex’s face splitting into a bright, easy smile.

You meander through the halls, trailing your fingers over the rich artwork covering the walls. The end of the corridor cleaves in two; you turn left and enter a large atrium. The ceiling is high and peppered with skylights. A small cafeteria sits off to the side, clusters of families chatting and laughing together as they eat. Children sprint around the space, their arms outstretched. Some of them are dressed in normal clothes—others don pale hospital gowns, their skinny legs bared for all to see. You wrench your attention away from them, fixing it instead on the far wall.

Slowly, you cross the room, surveying the vibrant handprints stamped against the plaster. There has to be hundreds of them, you think. They vary in size—some are so tiny you could cry. Colour becomes scarcer the higher you go—the youngest children are too short to reach those levels, obviously—but still. The sight takes your breath away. You visit this mural every time you find yourself at the hospital, and every time, you unearth a new detail that you hadn’t noticed before.

You walk along the length of the wall, dragging your fingertips across the dry, smooth paint. Purples and pinks and oranges and blues. Reds, greens, yellows, browns. Each handprint is a person—a pair of little feet that scuffled over this very floor, a blank story that had yet to unfold. Briefly, you wonder how many survived whatever illnesses plagued them, and how many succumbed to their conditions. The thought makes your throat grow tight with emotion, so you quickly shove it aside.

Ten minutes pass before you’re leaving the mural behind and heading back the way you came. You’ve just rounded the corner when a strong, solid body barrels into you. You grunt at the impact, smacking one palm against the wall to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you start, lifting your head to meet the stranger’s gaze. “I wasn’t paying—oh.”

Harry smirks, his green eyes glittering with mirth once he recognises you. You purse your lips, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Harry,” you say, nodding stiffly.

He folds his arms over his chest. “Sweetheart.”

His brown hair is tousled, and his biceps strain against the white button-up adorning his torso. Black slacks cover his legs, and he’s wearing a pair of pristine leather shoes, ones that look like they might’ve cost a month’s worth of rent. Your teeth grate together noisily. The sound echoes in your ears.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks, as though the two of you are old friends. You want to scoff—you’d rather stick your hand in an oven than make idle conversation with him.

“Visiting Alex,” you say tightly, stepping back. “Ella brought him lunch.”

At that, Harry straightens. “Ella’s here?”

“Yes.”

“I wish I’d run into her,” he murmurs, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

You throw him a scowl. “Asshole.”

Harry cocks one eyebrow, tilting his chin haughtily. “Forgive me if I prefer her company to yours. At least she doesn’t treat me like I’m some insufferable bastard.”

“Maybe if you stopped being such an insufferable bastard, I wouldn’t treat you like one,” you shoot back, planting your hands on your hips. You tense as Harry’s gaze rakes down your body—head to toe, like he’s sizing up an opponent. His nose wrinkles in disdain, and you fight the urge to deliver a sharp, backhanded slap across that pretty, perfect face.

Harry opens his mouth, and you brace yourself for whatever retort he has prepared. What comes out is nothing overtly nasty, but it is enough to make you want to shrink away and curl into yourself until you wink out of existence.

“You smell like yeast,” he says, and tosses in a derisive sniff just for the added effect.

You recoil as the words slam into you, blinking in shock.

Asshole. Rude, arrogant, condescending asshole.

“I own a bakery,” you grit out. Harry shrugs, but says nothing else. Your lips flap wordlessly as he pushes past you, his shoulder bumping against yours. You watch him go, massaging the tender spot on your arm with shaky fingers. Your eyes fall to his ass for only a moment before skittering away, and a hollow laugh catches in your throat.

What a fucking prick.

September 17th, 2021

“Attention, everyone!” Ella stands at the head of the table, clinking her fork delicately against her glass. “I wanted to make a little toast.”

The conversation around you tapers off into silence. You sit back in your chair, focussing on your best friend. She looks splendid in her pretty blue dress, her dark hair twisted into an elaborate knot at the nape of her neck. She peers around the room, chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek. When her gaze locks with yours, you grant her a tiny, encouraging nod.

She beams, her next words imbued with renewed enthusiasm. “I wanted to thank all of you for coming here tonight to celebrate our engagement with us.” She holds out her hand, and Alex presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “We’re so grateful to be sharing this milestone with such a wonderful group of people.”

You inspect the other guests gathered around the table. To your right sit Alice and Leyla, the first employees you hired when you were trying to get your business up off the ground. It’s odd seeing them like this—poised and elegant, looking nothing at all like they do during the long, arduous shifts at the bakery. Alice’s blond hair has been fashioned into an intricate braid, and Leyla’s brown eyes are lined with dark kohl and smoky eyeshadow. They clean up nice, you must admit.

Next to Leyla: Ella’s older sister, Hillary. They have the same piercing grey eyes, though Hillary’s hair is a shade lighter. You didn’t miss the sour expression that trundled across her face when you waltzed into Alex and Ella’s condo. She’s jealous, you think. Jealous that Ella chose you as her maid of honour instead of her. You’ve been ignoring her resentful glares for the better half of the night, letting her bitterness pass over you like a cloud. Whatever her problem is, it’s clear that the issue lies between her and her sister. You’re not getting in the middle of that.

It doesn’t help that she’s been fawning over Harry all evening. Upon witnessing her coquettish behaviour, you glanced at Ella, brows raised, but your best friend just rolled her eyes and yielded a helpless shrug of her shoulders. At least the attraction didn’t appear to be one-sided—that would have been humiliating, you think—because Harry gave as good as he got, chuckling sincerely and flirting right back. You had to suppress the urge to retch, and sent out a quiet prayer of gratitude when Ella and Alex sat them as far away from each other as possible at the beginning of the meal.

On the opposite side of the table: Alex’s groomsmen—Milo, Sasha, and Connor. You’ve been in their company a few times, mainly on birthdays and other special occasions. According to Alex, they all met when Milo accidentally vomited during their very first anatomy lesson at medical school. Milo insists that the putrid smell of the cadavers was simply too awful to bear, but everyone else claims that he just couldn’t stand the idea of being so close to a dead body. No matter the truth, the story always makes you giggle. The four of them have been good friends ever since.

The five of them, you remind yourself as your gaze settles on Harry, who is lounging in the chair directly across from you.

Harry—Alex’s best friend. Harry—Alex’s best man.

You wanted to rip your hair from your scalp when Ella broke the news. Several images flashed through your head all at once. You and Harry inching rigidly down the aisle, arms linked. You and Harry donning the same colours, your gown complimenting the spry flower pinned to the lapel of his suit. You and Harry flanking Ella and Alex while they recite their vows, glaring daggers at each other behind your friends’ backs. Even now, the mere thought of it has you biting down on an exasperated groan.

You don’t realise that you’ve zoned out until the faint quirk of Harry’s mouth catches your eye. You blink once to yank yourself from your daze, and clench your jaw when you find him staring at you with an amused look on his face. He places his elbows against the arms of the chair and clasps his hands together. Unmistakable smugness emanates from him, as if he somehow managed to crawl inside your mind and saw exactly what you were envisioning. Your nostrils flare, and you fix your attention back on Ella, who has reached the end of her speech.

“Cheers,” she says, holding up her glass. The champagne inside sloshes and fizzles temptingly. Would she allow you to chug the entire bottle, if you asked?

Everyone around the table mirrors her movements, raising their own drinks and touching them together lightly. Quiet, delicate clanking fills the room, and the friendly chatter resumes. You nudge Ella with your elbow, shooting her a proud smile. “That was great, El.”

She beams. “Thanks, cookie.” She then picks up her fork and motions to the plate in front of her, piled high with seasoned chicken and steaming, roasted vegetables. “Let’s eat.”

~*~

“Are you sure you’ve got him?” Alex asks Sasha, gesturing to the very inebriated Connor wobbling at his side.

Sasha wraps one arm around their friend, letting Connor rest his full weight against him. He bares two rows of perfect ivory teeth, flashing a wicked grin. “Yeah. Besides, I’ve been meaning to pay him back for the shit he pulled at the barbecue last month. There’s a Sharpie in my car.”

“You’re going to draw a dick on his face, aren’t you?” Alex muses.

“Obviously.”

With that, Alex bids them both farewell, shutting the door and heaving a dramatic sigh. Ella approaches him after a moment, hooking her chin over his shoulder and murmuring something indiscernible into his ear. He chuckles softly.

“Didn’t peg you as the voyeur type, sweetheart,” a low voice says from behind you.

You jump, whirling around and coming face-to-face with Harry. He’s got a green washcloth slung over his left shoulder—the shade brings out his eyes, a traitorous voice in your head whispers—and his arms are folded neatly across his chest. Your gaze falls to the collar of his black button-up, where he’s undone the first two discs, leaving his sternum exposed. Tendrils of ink peek out from beneath the dark material.

You frown and take a step back, putting distance between your bodies. “You’re such an asshole.”

“So I’ve heard.” His lips twitch, and he rolls up his sleeves. “Now, if you’re done ogling them like a lovestruck puppy, I could use some help in the kitchen.”

You grit your teeth, but follow him into the other room. Harry grabs the rag hanging over his shoulder and holds it out for you. You snatch it from his fingers without a word, and the two of you take up residence in front of the sink. Harry plunges his hands into the soapy water, rinsing the dishes thoroughly before passing them to you. You stand as far away from him as possible while you dry each plate, your movements stiff and choppy. This is not how you wanted to finish off the night, but Alex and Ella spent the entire day preparing the food, and it was delicious. The least you can do is spare them the hassle of tidying up.

The tense silence eats at you, until you feel like you might explode. Unable to bear it any longer, you hastily blurt, “Saw you getting pretty cozy with Hillary before dinner.”

Immediately, you want to kick yourself. Where the fuck did that come from?

Harry snorts, shrugging coolly. “We’ve hooked up a few times, but it’s nothing serious.” He shoots you a mischievous grin. “You jealous?”

“Of Hillary?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Please. The woman’s standards are practically underground. Why else would she be interested in someone like you?”

Harry scowls, and hot satisfaction surges through your veins. Yes, the taunt was mean, but no, you don’t care. “You’re a real bitch sometimes, you know that?” he says.

You flash him a petty, insincere smile. “Only to you.”

He squeezes the yellow sponge nestled in his right hand, scrubbing it forcefully across a dirty plate. “Maybe you should find someone to hook up with. It might help get that stick out of your ass.”

“I have better things to do,” you sneer, narrowing your eyes.

“Better than sex?” He chokes on a derisive laugh.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

“Like…things!” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists. “I run my own business, for God’s sake. And I’m going to make Ella’s wedding cake.” You announce the last part proudly, hauling your chin into the air.

Harry, however, looks unimpressed. He shakes his head, blowing out a heavy sigh. “Uh-oh.”

You pause. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs again, but you detect a hint of malice behind the action. “It’s just…I’ve seen the way you decorate cakes. Ella might be better off going elsewhere—you know, to an actual professional.”

Son of a—

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you say, motioning to the mismatched tattoos littered across his arm. “What would you know about professionalism? It looks like you let a preschooler doodle all over you.”

Harry bares his teeth in a feral grin. “Deflection. I’m not surprised.”

You bristle at his words. “Asshole.”

“You’ll need to get a bit more creative with the insults, sweetheart. I’m growing bored.”

“Is that so?” you say. “I think ‘asshole’ suits you just fine. Maybe you should have become a proctologist instead of a paediatrician.”

“At least I pursued something I was good at. I’m not sure if you can say the same.”

“You fucking—”

“Everything okay in here?” Ella asks, floating into the kitchen. You spin around to conceal your anger, placing your hands against the counter and inhaling deeply. You roll your shoulders back and slap an artificial smile onto your face before turning once more.

“Everything’s fine,” you say, and fake a yawn, covering your mouth with your palm. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

Ella’s bottom lip juts out into a pout. Her red lipstick has faded, leaving only a stain of scarlet in its wake. On cue, Alex walks into the kitchen behind her, setting a steady hand on her hip and cocking his head to the side. “Hey. Everything okay in here?”

You nearly snort. Fucking soulmates.

“All good,” you tell him, nodding brusquely. “I’m just going to finish up with the dishes and head home.”

“Okay.” Alex presses a soft kiss to Ella’s temple, murmuring something about needing to get out of his stuffy clothes. You whirl, drying the last of the plates with frantic, shaky fingers. In your peripheral vision, you spy Harry watching you, but the stupid bastard must possess some scrap of self-preservation, because he keeps his mouth shut. You say nothing else as you whack the rag down onto the counter and stride out of the room.

You don’t miss Alex and Ella’s hushed whispers at the other end of the hall, but a little voice in your head tells you not to interrupt them. You halt at the front door, snatching your purse off one of the metal hooks mounted on the wall. You’re in the middle of putting on your shoes when you hear it:

“I was hoping we could arrange a truce, you know.”

You twist around, palm flying to your chest. Harry is standing a few feet away, his hands still wet with the water from the sink. He clasps them together and ducks his head, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think he was ashamed.

Something vile bubbles in the pit of your stomach. You gnaw on the flesh of your cheek, trying to reel your emotions back in. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of witnessing another outburst.

“Keep your fucking truce,” you spit, and wrench open the door. You shoot him one last withering look before stepping out of the condo and slamming it shut.

[tootiredmotel]

Give him the real thing

For @floral-cas 's event!!! First time writing from an outsider/oc's pov so bear with me. Huge huge congrats on your milestone K!!! You are a PILAR of this lil community and we all love you 💚🌺💚🌺💚🌺

Read on ao3. 1.7k words

"Alright, uh… confession. I got no idea what I'm doin' here."

He looked around the shop like a monster was about to pop out of any corner. Like the carnations were going to bite him and the pots lined up on the windowsill next to them would come to life and crush his feet. The poor guy looked terrified, but it's nothing Maya hadn't handled before.

"That's what I'm here for. What's your name?" She asked, sensing they'd be there a while.

"Dean."

On any other day, Maya would've been resenting a burly, middle-aged guy with no idea what he wanted coming into the shop twenty minutes before closing, especially on a Thursday. Jade had their A.A. meetings on Thursdays so Maya was alone for the evening. But this Dean guy? He looked so lost, so nervous, so utterly out of place. There was something else about him that made her want to help, too. Maya wasn't sure what, but she'd figure it out.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Maya. Let's start with this: why are you here today, Dean?"

"Anniversary tomorrow."

Concise and to the point. Maya made a mental note. She also noted how he wiped his palms on his jeans and clenched his jaw. Nerves.

"How many years have you been together?"

That got a smile out of him. "A lot. A whole lot. But this is, uh. First wedding anniversary."

She donned a wide smile. "Congratulations. That's wonderful."

"Yeah. Thanks, thank you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, still not meeting her eyes.

"Doing anything special?"

"Nothin' fancy. My brother and his wife are taking the kiddo for the night so, picnic in the backyard, lookin' at the stars, all that cheesy romantic crap."

His words didn't match his tone. It was evident Dean was absolutely smitten, Maya recognized the look, and he was making an effort. He was filled to the brim with giddiness and adoration for this person, and it shone through from him just thinking about them. Jade still looked at Maya like that every morning and night, and so did Maya at them. Every day since freshman year of college. Maya's chest swelled.

"Thing is," Dean continued, a bit more relaxed now. "Cas knows all about this stuff. We got this huge garden behind the house that I'm not allowed to even touch. There's a million books about nature and trees and flower meanings on the shelf, and Cas has read all of 'em. I didn't even know flowers had meanings, I don't know jack shit about any of it, but…"

"You want to impress Cas."

"I wanna impress Cas. It's gotta be good." 

"You've come to the right place then." Maya kept an eye on Dean as she circled the counter. He was studying the pride flags hanging in the window with a clenched jaw, and Maya went on alert. She pulled out the binder they kept in the drawer and plopped it down in front of him a little harder than she needed to, calling his attention. "My partner Jade is more of a nerd about this stuff than I am, but they made this for situations like these."

Dean read the cover, Jade and Maya's Quick Guide to Flower Meanings, and smiled. "Nice."

They spent forty-five minutes walking around the store, binder in hand, slowly constructing the message Dean wanted to convey with his bouquet. He was adamant on it containing blue, so Maya went for the Forget-me-nots first. “Love and hope,” said the binder, which she deemed fitting enough for a first wedding anniversary. 

Dean looked like someone content with his life, and he agreed when Maya suggested they look under the happiness category. “Well, Cas makes me happy,” he said, and they settled on Felicias, also blue. 

Dean eventually got comfortable enough and leaned over to look at the binder in Maya’s hands. “Think there’s anything in there for grace?”

Highly specific, but possible, Maya thought. “Let’s find out.”

And they did. Plumerias, white.

“Anything else?” She asked him. Dean donned a thousand-yard stare as he thought about it, and Maya figured this man had been through a lot. More than she could ever imagine. She was glad he’d found some peace.

“Freedom,” Dean said finally. Freesias, white as well.

It was an odd bouquet, Maya admitted, but Dean was an odd man, and he looked happy with it. He was still nervous, still out of his element, but there was more excitement in the twinkle of his eyes than anything else.

“Cas will love it,” Maya assured him, and he beamed. She still knew very little about this Cas person— Dean could speak a lot without really saying anything, careful and reserved, even dancing around using gendered pronouns for Cas, which Maya found interesting—, but she could see Dean was living a happy life as their husband. That was good enough for her.

“Here’s hoping,” he said as he handed over his credit card, but he seemed a lot more sure than hopeful. He knew Cas would like it, and Maya couldn’t help a sense of pride grow inside her. Dean also put some cash in the tip jar and left with a smile. A good day’s work, and maybe a new friend in town.

---

“Maya?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

Jade poked their head in the door, beaming at Maya as she ran the books in the back room.

"There's a gentleman asking for you."

"By name?"

Jade nodded. Maya sent them a questioning look, to which they just shrugged. If Jade wasn't all that worried about it, Maya supposed there was no reason for her to be either. She made her way out, squeezing Jade's hip as she passed them, and stepped up to the counter. The trenchcoat-clad man smiled at her.

"Maya?"

The depth of his voice caught her by surprise, but she recovered in time to reply "That's me."

The man smiled wider. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Cas. You might not remember, but last week you-"

"Did you say Cas?" Maya couldn't contain her interruption, or the eagerness as she asked: "Dean's Cas?"

Cas's smile widened even more, which she didn't think was possible. It was blinding, and Maya, even in all her queerness, could definitely understand what Dean saw in him. "That's right."

Dean’s fixation on blue flowers suddenly made sense too, as she noticed his eyes. "He adores you, you know. You're his heaven and earth."

Cas's smile faltered at her words, and Maya feared she'd said something wrong.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping."

“No, no, it’s alright.” He looked down at his wedding band, and his smile returned. “He’s all that and more to me.”

Cas stared at his ring for a second longer. It was silver and had a small blue gem embedded into it. Maya could swear it appeared to swirl with light.

“Dean spoke wonders of you,” she said.

He looked back up at her. “You, too.”

She blinked in surprise at that.

“I loved the bouquet. I thanked him for it, over and over, and every time he said you were the miracle worker. That he was clueless the whole time and couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s not true,” Maya deflected, a steady heat rising to her cheeks. “He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. And, if anything, he and I couldn’t have done it without Jade’s expertise.” She gestured toward her partner, helping a customer at the other end of the shop, and also tapped the binder, which was out on the countertop today.

“Then I suppose I’m here to thank both of you.”

He reached into a tote bag that Maya hadn’t noticed he was carrying and pulled out a plastic container. “We run a small baking business out of our home. These are on me. Apple and honey tarts.” He placed the container in front of her. On top of it was a label that read D&C’s Pastries. “They are also gluten-free, just in case.“

“What’s going on?” Jade asked, approaching Maya’s side with an expectant smile.

“Jade, love, do you remember Dean? From last week?”

“You told me about him, yeah, wedding anniversary.”

“Well this is Cas,” she gestured to him.

“Dean's husband,” Cas interjected. Jade and Maya shared a knowing smile. “I just wanted to drop these off as a thank you for helping Dean. Apple and honey tarts, gluten-free.”

“That is so sweet of you,” Jade exclaimed, eagerly taking the pastries. Maya rolled her eyes fondly at the pun, which Cas didn’t seem to catch.

“I was just doing my job,” Maya said. “But thank you.”

“Papa!”

They all turned to the child, blond and adorable, running excitedly toward Cas. At the door, where the child came from, stood an exasperated Dean.

“Jack,” Cas started, scooping the child in his arms. Jack wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. “I thought I told you and Daddy to wait for me at the café, I wasn’t going to be long.”

“He missed you. We both did,” Dean gazed at him as he approached. “Dude, what are you-”

Dean scanned over the scene he’d just walked into and seemed to realize what was happening.

“So that’s what the tarts were for. Hey, Maya.”

“Hi, Dean.”

“And you must be Jade,” Dean said, extending a hand toward them.

“Yes! Heard about you, nice to finally meet you, Dean.”

“You too. You and that book of yours are life-savers. If I’d known the tarts were for you guys, I would’a made more.”

“These are more than enough, thank you. In fact, here...” Maya turned to a vase of daisies they had on a shelf and pulled out three. “Now I feel like we’re even.”

“Not by a long shot,” Dean said as he took his flower and Cas’s. He put his behind his ear, and Cas’s in his trenchcoat’s lapel, as Maya handed Jack his own flower.

They all promised to not be strangers, and kept their promise. Dean and Cas would bring over baked goods, and in exchange, Jade and Maya would let them take home a potted plant for their garden. Jack would always leave with a small flower in his hand, a different one every time, wrapped in Cas’s arms as he explained the flower’s origins or symbolism to his son. Dean would be the last one out the door, always turning back and mouthing a “thank you” to Maya. Every time, without fail.

And every time, Maya would think that she wanted what they had. Happiness, peace, a family, unconditional and true love. And every time, she would look over at Jade, and know she was well on her way.

[dilly-oh]

Rent-a-Boyfriend

I need to get drunk, FAST, Kakashi thinks, taking a seat at the bar and signalling to the bartender. He wants to forget this evening ever happened as quickly as possible. He is never going on another blind date arranged by his so-called friends again - the guy they’d set him up with was some creepy artist with a ponytail who straight up asked to sculpt his dick, and when he politely declined, told him it was okay, size didn’t matter to him. Naturally, Kakashi’d dipped the moment the guy was distracted flirting with some other dude and scurried off to a nearby bar to drown his woes and seriously consider ghosting his friends forever.

Speak of the devil, his phone starts buzzing in his pocket, but he ignores it in favor of taking a swig of beer instead. He is NOT talking to them right now. Just because they all found love doesn’t mean he needs to as well, especially not with their ‘help’. They make it seem so easy, like he isn’t even trying. Yeah, right. It isn’t as if the perfect man is going to just fall into his-

“Oh my God, help me,” a man hisses, barging over and plopping right into his lap. Kakashi gets a faceful of long brown hair (which is quite delightful considering it’s wonderfully soft and smells like flowers) and has to repress a giggle as it tickles his nose before remembering he’s supposed to be in a bad mood. Nice hair or not, Kakashi is about to shove the stranger off when he twists around to look up at Kakashi with the most gorgeous brown eyes he’s ever seen, wide and pleading for mercy. A worried frown wrinkles his forehead, crinkling the faded scar over the bridge of his nose, and he bites his lips anxiously. Suddenly Kakashi will do anything for this man, including murder. “My asshole ex is here.” Okay, he was kidding about the whole murder thing, but he’s not above a firm talking-to. Maybe even a long-winded discussion about boundaries if need be. “Please, please pretend to be my boyfriend so he’ll fuck off and leave me alone.”

Kakashi blinks. 

Pretend? Hell, he would love to actually BE this cutie’s boyfriend, where’s the application, sign him the fuck up. Kakashi almost says this aloud, but the desperate, almost wild look in the man’s eyes quiets his instinctual smartass remark and forces him to actually take things seriously for once. He nods imperceptibly and wraps his arms around the man’s waist, pulling him closer just as a douchey-looking guy with silver hair struts up, glaring at him poisonously.

“Who the fuck is this?” he spits out.

“Piss off, Mizuki,” the man in his lap snaps back. “He’s my boyfriend, obviously. Why don’t you go vape in the alleyway or something?”

“Bullshit. I don’t believe you.” Mizuki’s eyes narrow dangerously as he studies Kakashi. “...Prove it. Prove that you’re actually dating him.” The man stiffens in Kakashi’s lap.

“Don’t be ridiculous! He doesn’t have to prove anything-”

“Leave him alone, he gets enough stress from teaching brats every day,” Kakashi cuts in. The man jerks around in his lap, gaping in surprise for a moment before carefully schooling his face. “He was up late correcting papers again last night. I felt bad, so I brought him his favorite Ichiraku ramen for lunch and walked the dog for him. I even offered to play CoD with his little brother.” He leans forward, pulling the man closer to his chest protectively. “Now...why don’t you get lost?” 

“...Fuck you.” Mizuki’s glare darkens even further. 

“Fuck you, too.” Kakashi sends him off with a cheery wave that turns into a middle-finger once the guy’s back is turned. 

“How the hell did you know all that stuff about me?” the man in his lap asks once Mizuki slithers away to lurk in the shadows. He looks up at Kakashi uneasily, almost frightened. “Have you been...stalking me or something?”

“Never met you before in my life,” Kakashi replies, then goes on to explain. “According to my friends, not only am I a smug know-it-all and complete smart-ass, I’m also incredibly observant.” He takes a deep breath and begins. “You have red ink marks on your fingertips, presumably from a cheap red pen. The only reason for you to be using one of those is if you’re a teacher, grading papers, and judging from the bags under your eyes, I can easily guess you’ve spent more than a few nights up late grading. You have a rather fresh stain on your shirt, ramen, judging from the smell, with a unique aromatic spice added to the broth that’s only used at Ichiraku - I recognize it, having eaten there a few times. I know you have a dog because there’s fur on your pants, but it’s too high up for it to be from a cat, so therefore it must be from a medium-sized dog, perhaps a Shiba-Inu going by the length of hair and reddish tint. And as for your brother, the cell-phone in your pocket has a case that is a rather unfortunate shade of neon orange. Given your fashionable outfit and kempt appearance, you’d never have picked it yourself, therefore it had to have been a gift, and a sentimental one at that. A parent would never have purchased something so ridiculous for you, and you wouldn’t actually use it if it was a gag gift from a friend, so it could only have come from a younger sibling, obviously a brother, who I assume is teenaged based off the practicality of buying you a case for your cell-phone instead of something silly or useless like a keychain.” He finishes in a rush and takes a breath. 

“...Oh,” the man breathes out softly, his eyes wide with awe. Then he frowns. “Wait. How did you know about the Call of Duty thing?”

“He’s a teenager,” Kakashi snorts. “Of course he’s into fucking CoD.”

“Ugh, true,” the man laughs, relaxing in Kakashi’s arms, which he, admittedly, doesn’t want to remove. “God, is there anything you don’t know?”

“Your name and number,” Kakashi blurts out, then immediately wants to slap himself. What is he, an idiot? Hitting on this man right after he’s been accosted by his ex? That’s just...it was just-

“Damn, that was smooth.” The man leans back in his lap, looking him up and down, considering. “...I’d say you earned the name, at least. I’m Iruka.”

“Kakashi. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Iruka cocks his head and hums. “You know, it was kinda hot when you went all Sherlock like that.”

“My friends wouldn’t agree,” Kakashi scoffs, deciding his arms feel quite good where they are, as does Iruka. “Especially after I ruined Asuma and Kurenai’s surprise pregnancy announcement-”

“You didn’t.” 

“I thought it was obvious! Her feet were swollen!” 

Iruka laughs so hard he almost falls out of Kakashi’s lap.

Almost.

“Anyway,” Iruka says once he can breathe properly again, “thanks for pretending to be my boyfriend, I really appreciate it.”

“My pleasure,” Kakashi replies with cheer. “I was more than happy to offer my services.” 

“Then you wouldn’t mind keeping up the act until my ex leaves, or I do?” Iruka asks, nodding at the shadows where Mizuki is slumped over a beer, glaring at them. “What are your going rates?”

“I’ll give you a discount,” Kakashi tells him. “My only payment is you stay in my lap the entire time.”

“Deal.” Iruka grins wickedly up at him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and getting comfortable. “Although, as my pretend boyfriend, you should totally buy me a drink.” Kakashi grins back.

“Sure thing, babe.” 

Maybe he won’t have to pretend for long.  

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twenty-Four Prompt: Fake Dating)

[mistaeq]

Hi !!! I wasn't sure if requests were open or not bc the header description thingy (??? hsksvdks)said they were closed, but if they're open, can you do the jojo's reaction to their s/o being pregnant with twins after a long time of trying? Pick whichever ones you want or all !!! Plz don't overwork yourself :( 💖

The Jojos: Finding out their s/o is Pregnant with Twins

TW // none

DORA IS BACK! ^_^ i can't describe how happy i am to be back at writing, after several days👀 i hope this work is worth a comeback! enjoy your answer <3

The Jojos finding out their s/o is pregnant with twins after a long time of trying.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

JONATHAN JOESTAR

He smiles, probably thinking you're messing with him. You spent a lot of time trying to have a baby, and now you're joking about having more than one baby and stuff because of that... aren't you? He might faint if you are being for real.

"Y/n, please don't joke with me on these things... you know how much I care, I would burst into tears if I happened to believe... what do you mean you're serious...?" his voice breaks, his heart feels so full already. Two babies?

Jonathan does burst into tears. It was a miracle for him even realizing you were pregnant, but two babies? Two angels of his growing inside of you? It's too much for his romantic, loyal and devoted heart, and it'll show. He won't stop kissing your belly and constantly caressing it.

He doesn't care whether they're two boys, two girls or a boy and a girl, he knows he'll give them his unconditional fatherly love regardless of their gender. Jonathan is blinded by the love and the happiness the good news made him feel.

Jonathan hopes that both his features and yours will be recognizable in your children's bodies. It would make him feel like the happiest man in the world. He wants to look at them and remember they come from a pure and loyal love.

For the days to come of your pregnancy, he'll keep on referring to you as three people. "Good morning, sweethearts.", he'll whisper every morning, giving two tender kisses on your growing belly, one for every twin. Jonathan feels like he's dreaming.

JOSEPH JOESTAR

As soon as you walk into the room, he's overjoyed already, running towards you. "Your next line is: we're gonna have twins!" you never understood how did he do that, but in that moment you just nodded, letting him pull you in a strong embrace.

Joseph laughed thinking of all the negative pregnancy tests you took in the past. He kept them to remember how much you two tried, and promised he would have thrown them away only once you succeeded. You were even having twins, now.

He panicked quickly when he noticed that all of your attempts were useless, and he even got to the doctor to make sure he wasn't sterile. Poor boy. He cared a lot about giving you babies, and honestly got a good amount of scared.

"I hope at least one of them is a girl, I'd like to name her Holly..." he pouts, caressing your belly. He'll be the happiest regardless of their gender, but having a baby girl has been a dream of his, and he'll keep on hoping until you can find out the genders of the babies.

Joseph dreams of when they'll be born, and he'll be able to hold both of his children at once with his huge and strong arms. He subtly hopes at least one of them will be able to learn how to use hamon. He'd like it to be a family tradition like it is for the Zeppelis. It would be really cool and he would be able to playfully brag about it on Caesar's grave.

"Y/n, but... if you're gonna have two babies in your belly... won't it like... explode? How do you manage to keep them both? What if you start floating like a balloon because of the babies stretching your belly too much?" he knows how to get a laugh from you when you feel bad during the pregnancy.

KUJO JOTARO

At first he's not gonna say anything or look too surprised. Sometimes doctors happen to get these things wrong, he heard of lots of couples who thought they were gonna have twins but then it turned out to be a mistake. [Dora's parents, for example]

Jotaro won't show it, but despite this thought, his heart is pounding at the thought of you two having twins. You had talked about having a baby, but no matter how much you tried, every attempt seemed to be useless. And now you were telling him this.

"Yes... it would be amazing if you were right." he holds your hands. "Let's not get our hopes too up." Jotaro mumbles in a calm tone, while Star Platinum shamelessly exposes its user giving happy "ora"s and an embarrassing amount of kisses on your cheeks.

When you find out that there's no mistake, he will hug you and not let go for a couple of minutes at least. "I don't know anyone else who would so happily carry children of mine in herself. I am grateful, y/n. Really grateful."

You know Jotaro's trying to keep calm and look strong for you to admire him, but you felt his voice trembling and can't ignore Star Platinum slowly summoning itself, sniffling and moving to carefully caress your belly, a sweet and calming smile on its face "Ora...".

He's not sure he's gonna be a good father, even more now that he knows the children will be two and not only one, but Jotaro would never admit his fears. He tends to bottle up every single feeling of his. It would be the right thing to do if you sometimes made him feel like he'll be a perfect dad. He needs it.

HIGASHIKATA JOSUKE

"T-Twins? Like t-two babies? One + one? Me and you? R-Right there?" he'll ask, pointing at your belly with his widened eyes, right under your amused gaze. Josuke is a pure angel, he won't fully realize it for the next twenty four hours.

If you're fine with it, he confesses that if one of them is a boy he'd like to call him Ryohei, his grandpa's name, to properly remember him and everything he did to protect Morioh-Cho. You don't want to say no to him on this. He really cares a lot.

He enjoys having long conversations with your children, you sitting on the couch and him laying on his belly, ear on your own belly. "Mommy and daddy are impatient, here... can't you speed up your birth a bit? I can't wait playing with your hair and styling it in two cute pompadours..."

Talking together, you both decide he won't use Crazy Diamond to calm down your pregnancy pains. You want to fully live your pregnancy without stand powers, and Josuke agrees. He wants to be next to you when it happens, but like a normal boyfriend/husband.

Crazy Diamond still is overjoyed just like its user, when you tell Josuke about the twins. It's eager to help, when you start buying the little beds and proper furniture for the babies, and you won't even have to worry about setting those up, Crazy Diamond will do it by itself even without Josuke telling it to.

As soon as she learns it, Tomoko will invite you by her for a dinner, to celebrate the two angels you're gonna give birth to. She still can't believe her Josuke gave her grandchildren with you, and will personally call Jotaro to inform the Joestar part of the family.

GIORNO GIOVANNA

Since you get along with Mista really well, he'll think it's a joke, and won't listen to you for the first minutes, at least until you show him the papers the doctor gave you that morning, proving you're really pregnant with twins.

He'll stare at those papers for five minutes straight, speechless, smiling. You've been trying for a lot of time. Gold Experience had been caressing your belly several times after you and Giorno made love, to stimulate your body in creating life. And now that you finally succeeded, it's twins.

"I wonder if there's a possibility for them to be stand users... i'll still be willing to keep our babies away from Passione's business." says Don Giovanna, keeping you close. If Mista's task was protecting him, now GioGio's new request is for the gunslinger to protect you.

Since now you know you won't only have one baby, there's much more to buy, and since you're pregnant and Mista can't go away and leave your side because of Giorno's request, the one who has to go shopping for the babies is Giorno himself. Finding a Don buying baby clothes and toys is always hilarious and cute.

GioGio will often panic and call Trish for help. He doesn't want you to think he's not able to handle buying stuff for two babies instead of one, so he has no guts to call and ask for help from you.

He's never had a good father figure. So he can't really say he witnessed good examples of a parental figure to imitate. But he remembers the love in Bruno's eyes. The love of a person who chose to protect his fellow gang members. He'd like his babies to feel with him the same way he felt in Bruno's protection.

[the-pale-goddess]

Blind - Ethan Ramsey x MC (Tiffany Addams)

The annual Edenbrook gala is all about extraordinary food, free booze, serving looks...and jealousy in every possible form. Who will crash and who will burn this night?

Warnings: NSFW (+18) Nothing too explicit this time! But obviously, suggestive adult themes are all over the story. Plus there’s alcohol, a lot of swearing and all that jealous angst we like.

Rating/Category: Mature / AU

Author’s note: This fic takes place not long after the AU Miami conference in the Miami Heat series where E&T went all the way.  I hope you’ll like the twist! It’s also kinda long - sorry about that.

Taglist (let me know if you want in or out)

@caseyvalentineramsey  @interobanginyourmom  @newcolonies @ernest-harrington @openheart12 @perriewinklenerdie @mvalentine @ethandaddyramsey @kaavyaethanramsey @lion-ess24 @choices-love-affair @justanotherrookie @rookieoh @rookie-ramsey @queencarb​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @doilooklikeiknow​

_____

„Ramsey, would it hurt you to crack a little smile? We're at a freaking gala.” Dr. Tanaka's teasing voice was just as annoying as his remark, but it failed to provoke any kind of emotion in Ethan. He shot the other attending a condescending glare from above his glass of scotch.

„I see no correlation.” Tanaka laughed at the blunt response, shaking his head in disbelief.  

„Is open bar not reason enough to get a little festive?” He leaned against the bar, his hand pointing at the impressive wall of liquor in front of them.

„I can afford my own alcohol, Tanaka, and I'd rather drink it, quite literally, anywhere else.”

„If you hate it so much why are you even here?” That was in fact an excellent question. Why was he still there? Ethan rubbed his brow and took a look around before responding. The spacious ballroom was already packed. All these familiar faces passing through in their best gowns, getting advantage of the night off at a luxurious hotel.

„As tedious and pointless as this schmoozing is, it's still a work duty. Everyone has to do their part.” He downed his drink and called the bartender to do a refill. In that very moment three young nurses approached the bar, standing right behind Dr. Ramsey, all of them oblivious to each other's presence. „I've been actually meaning to ask you about my lung cancer patient. Have you managed to read the file I left you today?”

„Yes. Dr. Mirani consulted with me before the recent development occured. I've allowed myself to...” Tanaka's voice dropped to a background noise when someone said her name. Ethan's attention immediately shifted to the lively chatter behind his back.

„...Have you seen Addams? Who does she think she is? A Grammy winner? This isn't the red carpet, sweetie.” All of them giggled. Ethan felt a tingle of irritation while trying to focus on his own conversation. But he just couldn't stop listening...

„Totally! That dress is scandalous.” The other nurse added. „Three mojitos, please!”

„Come on, girls. She's smoking hot with or without makep, in scrubs or in a way too revealing dress. I'd kill to have a body like Addams. You're just jealous because Scalpel Jockey is all over her, not you.” Ethan almost choked on his drink. Did he hear that right?

„I suppose she cleans up real well, yeah. But Brycey could've done so much better, is all I'm saying.” It was the first nurse talking again, her voice full of envy. Ethan's face turned red, eyes wandered to the glass he gripped with white knuckles, not paying any attention to Tanaka and his surgical rant.

„How long have they been a thing?” The question made Ethan's blood boil. Are they really a thing?

„I didn't even know they were a thing.” The first nurse theorized. „That chick's always running after Ramsey.”

„Susan, shhhhhhhh...” The second nurse whispered and the conversation suddenly died. None of the nurses realized it was already too late for shushing. As soon as they received their drinks they were gone, leaving the messy gossip buzzing around Ethan's head.

„What do you think, Ramsey?” He finally looked up at Tanaka. Fuck. Fucking fuck. Fucking fuckety fuck. What were they even bouncing around? He scratched his chin trying not to look too distracted.

„I...I just remembered. There is a matter that needs to be taken care of.” He gulped the scotch down and left the glass at the bar. „I'll stop by your office the first thing in the morning to discuss the case. Enjoy the rest of your night, Dr. Tanaka.”

Ethan whisked through the crowd looking for air. Meanwhile, his mind had a race of its own. Tiffany's seeing Lahela. So what? It's none of his business. He made that clear after the Miami incident. They both agreed it was irresponsible, unethical and can never happen again. She's his intern. The best one there was. He won't jeopardize her career development over a stupid crush. It was a crush, right? Just a simple chemical reaction, pure physical attraction....She's a brilliant and ravishing young woman – everyone would fall for her. No wonder that real-life Ken doll took his chance. Whatever. She's only his intern, he shouldn't care about her personal life. So why was she still on his mind? And why hadn't he seen her yet?

Luckily, the balcony wasn't as crowded as the ballroom. Ethan walked up the railing and sighed deeply, knowing no one in the close proximity was beside him. The chilly breeze of the night proved to be a great companion as he didn't need another dull small talk with any of his coworkers or the company leeches. He just needed a moment of peace to clear his mind, that's all. But then he heard a familiar laughter, the sound that owned his soul. Hesitantly, he turned around and his jaw dropped.

The dress was scandalous, indeed. Its milky white satin material accentuated all her curves in an obscene way. But that wasn't even the most outrageous part – the slit was the worst. The thigh-high, treacherous side slit that put her long leg on display. When Tiffany turned her back another surprise awaited – the exposed skin of her back was glowing at him. Her every move was torture and he was being punished, but he wouldn't look away. Her black hair was styled in perfect Hollywood waves that cascaded down her bare shoulders. And finally – the cherry on the cake, her full lips painted red, seeking undivided attention. She was absolutely breathtaking.

And she caught him staring. Their gaze met for the first time this evening. She didn't smile, but he could swear there was a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. She looked him up and down, trailing over his expensive tailor-made tux, fresh haircut and a flushed face, and then she had the audacity to bite her bottom lip, the movement slow and subtle, followed by a tantalizing flick of the tongue. Suddenly, he felt an uncomfortable motion in his pants. For fuck's sake, Tiffany.

The horror took a different form when a wave of his inappropriate thoughts was interrupted by a large hand that slipped on Tiffany's lower back. Ethan took a deep breath, trying to control the anger building up inside of him.

Lahela looked much like the dreamy prom king from a teen movie, with his golden bronze skin and perfect white teeth. His blonde hair, usually side swept and tousled, today made a rare slicked back appearance. He was whispering something to Tiffany's ear, but her gaze was still fixed on Ethan. What was she thinking about? And then she turned to Bryce, giggling like his very own prom queen, waving at the rest of their friends standing nearby. Except she was not some clueless chick, she was his intern. His Rookie.

Another minute of observing this bizzare spectacle would make Ethan think he's a masochist. He desperately needed a drink, but the gang was standing in the way of the outside bar. Without thinking, he took one of the champagne glasses distributed by a waitress, chugged it quickly, then took another and rushed inside.

~ A malicious rumour ~

„Please, welcome my dear friend – Don Julio!” Jackie got back to the gang's table with a tray full of tequila shots, receiving a perplexed look from Sienna. „What, you didn't believe in me? I can be very persuasive.” She moved her chest to the sides, making her tits jiggle, while distributing the shots.

„I genuinely hoped the bartender would tell you off and qualify as too drunk for another round.” Sienna rolled her eyes and glanced at Landry as if she was waiting for him to back her up, but he was lost deep in his thought. „We'll be doomed tomorrow.”

„Si, please, turning free booze down is like throwing real money into trash.” Elijah gently smacked her elbow.

„Who said anything about turning it down?” She laughed, holding her shot close.

„That's my girl!” Jackie whistled and clinked her glass with Sienna's. „Let's drink like we've won the lottery tonight!”

„Earth to Landry!” Sienna pointed at him with her shot. „Are you drinking with us?”

„Yeah, yeah, sorry...” He smiled briefly and took his glass up. „To Edenbrook!”

„Hell yeah to Edenbrook! Thanks for making us fucking plastered.” Elijah marked the toast and they all downed their shots.

„This is...” Sienna blinked and a single tear fell down her cheek.

„Nasty?” Elijah winced with disgust while Jackie grinned. „Delicious fucking meal?” The group burst out laughing and then proceeded with drinking.

„Where's Tiffany? I haven't seen her around for a while.” Sienna wondered.

„She's probably getting busy with Meathead in one of these lavish bathrooms.” Jackie's response resulted in Sienna's squeak. „Kidding, he got stuck in the friendzone. Who cares.”

„But he's also missing, isn't he?” Elijah looked at Jackie quizzically, challenging her for another take at the theory.

„Turn around, Walmart Sherlock.” They all turned their heads just to see Bryce walking in their direction with other surgical interns. Elijah folded his arms in defeat, while Jackie continued, trying to hold back a chuckle. „She said something about an important phonecall before disappearing.”

„What if something...happened to her?” Sienna's face was etched with worry.

„Well. I'm too drunk to get up...So.” Jackie pointed at the stairs on the other side of the room. „The last time I saw her she was walking down there.”

„I'll go check it out. Call me if you find her before I do.”

~

The hotel was huge. After running down what felt like a hundred stairs, Landry reached a long corridor. He wandered slowly, trying not to make any noise just in case. At the end of the hall he found another stairs. He walked down, and down, and down...Until he heard some grumbling and stopped in his tracks. He wasn't sure where was it coming from and what the sound was. Cautiously, he continued his journey, his steps as silent as possible. When he finally saw the floor his eyes went wide and he almost screamed at the sight. With the last bit of his sane mind, he took a step back, still having a good look but not in a way his presence would be compromised, and watched the scene unfold.

It was unmistakably Tiffany. Even though her red lipstick was smeared, perfect hair ruined, disheveled along with her satin dress, it was definitely his friend. Her body pulled against a man he was about to recognize...

Ethan Freaking Ramsey.

The blood drained from Landry's face. He was appalled to the core, clenching his fists until the knuckles got white. But he couldn't move. He just kept on lurking.

Ethan was kissing her neck with such force, the marks of this shameless encounter will surely bruise her skin. But she didn't seem to mind. Her mouth let out muffled moans as her hands greedily explored his body. Her leg was hiking up Ethan's waist and his possessive hand gripped her exposed thigh, sliding his fingers up and down, grabbing her skin, smacking her ass and squeezing it.

„You're mine, Rookie.” He whispered into her ear. Tiffany moaned loudly, clearly forgetting they were in a public space.

„I'm all yours.” She purred. Ethan smirked and moved his lips to meet hers. Their kiss was passionate and urgent, as their tongues fought for dominance. Their bodies were grinding against each other in an unsteady rhythm...

He's seen enough. He tried to back away. There was no reason to continue watching two people in a loving act...But it was not loving, was it? She corrupted him. She seduced him. That tricky little bitch! She wanted to win the competition but she couldn't outshine the others, so she had to come up with a plan of her own. Was Ramsey really that stupid and blind after all?

Landry's whole world crushed down and a wash of despair fell on him while trying to think of a solution. He was determined to make Tiffany pay for her deviousness. For a single minute a defiant thought crossed his mind – maybe it's a little unfair to interpret the nature of their relationship without knowing the slightest hint of their story? But it was too late, he was already blinded by his jealousy. He found himself in a position to judge, and that advantage was vindictive enough. He shook his last decent thought off and doubled back to the party.

~ A blinding revelation ~

Inside wasn't safe either. Everyone watched The Ethan Ramsey follow his nose straight to the bar. Some of the big fish already made their steps towards him, dying to talk to him. Just one more reason to get out of this horrifying event...Before he managed to place an order, a strong vanilla scent filled the air around him. The savor deeply evocative to him, despite his effort to deny its importance. The muscles in his jaw clenched. He didn't even have to look. He didn't want to look.

„Dr. Ramsey, what a surprise. I didn't think I'd find you here.” Tiffany leaned her back against the bar, a glass of champagne in her hand, her eyes scanned the ballroom carefully before they landed on Ethan. He ran the risk of looking back at her. She was even more stunning up close. His eyes quickly avoided hers, finding a neutral spot at the height of her ear.

„Where else would I be, Addams?” His brow arched.

„Literally anywhere else. This isn't a typical Ramsey environment.” Tiffany laughed softly. Ethan's gaze fell back at her face, studying it as if looking for an answer to a question he wouldn't even dare to ask himself. She noticed the cryptic staring and her cheeks flushed with a tint of red. „What did I do now?”

Ethan was silent for a moment, considering his options. The image of Bryce's hand claiming his intern repeatedly slapped him in the face, leaving him no choice but to surrender to this blind rage.

„So you're Lahela's pain in the ass tonight.” He alleged, his speech stilted and mocking.

„Didn't hear him complaining.” She shrugged, dodging a bullet and pointing her own gun at him, scratching him in defence.

„There is no conclusive evidence to prove that, Rookie. You're standing here annoying me, not him.” The intensity of their stare was hardly appropriate for the place they were in. But they were too absorbed in their interaction to register that.

„What if that was my plan all along?” Tiffany's finger brushed his hand as if by accident when she began to walk away. His eyes followed her every move, focusing on how her hips swayed, lingering on her curves. And then, in the middle of the ballroom, she stopped and looked at Ethan over her shoulder. He swallowed loud, knowing damn well what was about to happen next. She bit her bottom lip, smiled teasingly and continued her walk. For fuck’s sake.

Ethan cursed himself for being such a fool and followed her at a safe distance. She was heading downstairs, like she knew exactly where she was going. Except she didn't. It was an exciting, alcohol-driven improvisation.

A trail of vanilla scent she left behind intoxicated him to the point he failed to notice how far from the party they wandered. Judging by the long corridor they passed through, they possibly entered the hotel wing. They were finally alone. Just the two of them and a meaningful silence punctuated by the violent sound of her heels. They reached a luxorious lounge when Tiffany decided to end the journey. She leaned against a white table, sipping her drink with eyes glued to Ethan.

„Why did you follow me?”

„Why would you want to come here? Wherever we are.” They smiled at each other in agreement – they truly deserved each other. The cheeky grin on Ethan's face quickly disappeared, as he moved next to Tiffany, playing with his glass of champagne.

„I'm simply trying to avoid a very public catastrophe.” The young doctor admitted. She hopped on the table and crossed her legs, letting the material of her dress slip to the side, completely exposing her leg.

„Are you seeing Scalpel Jockey?” The waspishness of his own voice sickened him as much as the fact, that the decision to spit the question out was motivated solely by self-interest.

„Why do you care?” She looked at him staggered.

„I don't.” He responded immediately. His words, as sharp as a knife, cut her deep and she turned away. The look of sadness on her face made him bite his tongue...Only just a second too late.

„Tiffany...” His hand reached her shoulder, but she threw it off. She remained silent for a long moment, her chest moving furiously, face hidden behind her locks. The catastrophe was on its way. When she finally regained her composure, her head angled at Ethan revealing an indignant glare.

„I'm so done with your hot and cold bullshit. You have no right to treat me like this...You rejected me. You made it painfully clear that you're only interested in Doctor Addams.”

„I know, but...”

„You know?” She got up and scoffed at him, taking a step in his direction. „You know, yet you continue this immature act. You're all jealous and possessive, but when it comes to owning it you deny everything.”

„Tiffany, your whole career is at stake here. Why am I the only one thinking about it?” He said through gritted teeth.

„Man the fuck up instead of altering the subject.” She leaned closer, unaware of the consequences, until their faces were merely inches apart.

„What's that supposed to mean?” He knew exactly what she meant. In fact, he knew way too well. Playing dumb, are we?

„Tell me now, Ethan. Right in the eye.” Her voice was filled with pain and frustration as she pointed her finger at her teary eyes. „Tell me you don't care about me.”

„What...” He blinked, utterly disconcerted.

„Tell me I can date and fuck whoever I want.” She's seen him mad before. This was something different. An entire new level of rage crossed his face. He was breathing fire.

„That's enough, Addams.” He pursed his lips and shook his head with eyes closed, as if he was trying to teleport to another dimension just to calm himself down.

„Using my surname won't...”

„Do you really think it's easy for me?” He hissed, interrupting her. „It's not like I've walked into the waiting room the day we met and decided to fall in love with an intern. Nothing of this was my intention.”

Ethan's words made her stand straight. Her face softened, lips slightly parted. They waited in silence for a minute, trying to deal with the surprising turn of events. Ethan felt the need to even his breath, when a blinding revelation downed at him.

„I have feelings for you, Tiffany.” She moved closer, standing between his legs, her hand flicked through his thick hair.

„Yes, you said something about falling in love.”

„Stop it. I know what I said.” He leaned into her touch and put an arm around her waist, a playful smile playing on his lips. She pulled his head closer, letting his chin fall between her breasts.

„I'm not seeing Bryce. I just had to see you green with envy.” Tiffany confessed, caressing his cheek with the back of her hand.

„And that worked extremely well, didn't it?” Ethan arched his brow, his hand traced her curves up and down on the side.

„It did. I think I got what I wanted.” Their eyes were still locked, his baby blues finding safety in the green of her emeralds.

„You might want to revaluate that.”

„Wha...” He didn't let her finish. With a brisk movement he stood up, catching her in his strong arms, and kissed her hungrily.

Tiffany melted into him, staining his lips Russian Red with every kiss. Her arms immediately twined around him as he blindly moved her forward until her back was pinned against the wall. The kiss deepened, making them both dizzy with its intensity. They gasped into each other's mouth while their tongues danced together.

„I see your point now, Doctor.” She mumbled when they finally parted for air. The lipstick printed on Ethan's lips made her chuckle. „How come you look so good in red?”

„I can assure you, it's not as good as your smudged look.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, inhaling her delicious scent.

„Shut up and kiss me.”

She didn't have to tell him twice. He crashed into her again with renewed passion, his hands tugging at the satin of her dress. Never breaking the kiss, she slightly spread her legs and he instantly felt the movement, pressing his body even closer against hers. The rock hard bulge begged for her attention by rubbing on her inner thigh, and she willingly complied. Her hand slipped into his pants and stroked his length teasingly through the fabric of his underwear. He moaned into her lips and gripped her ass, as they continued kissing.

„You're making me crazy, Tiffany. And that dress...” He trailed off, trying to find a proper word that matched with his unholy thoughts.

„You'd like to tear it off, wouldn't you?” The lustful glance followed by a tightened grip was answer enough and it made her grin from ear to ear. „Not so fast.”

She quickly unzipped Ethan's pants, and before he realized, she was on her knees, her slim fingers tracing the waistband of his underwear.

„Tiffany...” He was slack-jawed, unable to move. His mind went off for a split of second. Luckily, he managed to come to his senses before she pulled his pants down. He reached for her shoulders and gently brought her back into his arms.

„Ethan, let me. I want to taste you.” She whispered, cleary disappointed he spoiled the fun. Ethan stared at her in awe, trying to shake off the image of his cock in her mouth.

„No...Not here.” His hand held her jaw and tilted it slightly up. „Someone might walk in on us any minute.”

Then he began kissing her neck with such force, the marks of this shameless encounter will surely bruise her skin. But she didn't mind, she was delirious. Her mouth let out muffled moans as her hands greedily explored his body. The high slit came in handy when her leg was hiking up Ethan's waist and his possessive hand gripped her exposed thigh, sliding his fingers up and down, grabbing her skin, smacking her ass and squeezing it.

„You're mine, Rookie.” He whispered into her ear and sucked the skin behind it. Tiffany moaned loudly, forgetting they were in a public space.

„I'm all yours.” She purred. Ethan smirked, pleased at the response, and moved his lips to meet hers. Their kiss was passionate and urgent, as their tongues fought for dominance. Their bodies were grinding against each other in an unsteady rhythm, desperate to feel skin on skin. „Let's move somewhere private.”

„We need to clean this mess up first.” Ethan took a tissue out of his pocket in order to get rid of the lipstick smudges all over his face.

„It's pointless. I sucked on your lip pretty hard, you’re staying red.”

„Give me the lipstick then.” She burst with laughter and Ethan soon followed.

They did their best attempt at tidying themselves up with the minimal equipment Tiffany carried in her tiny purse. They really did. Was it enough? Probably not. Did they care? Surprisingly, not in the slightest.

„Ethan?” Tiffany took his hand in hers right before they decided they looked decent enough to head back to the ballroom. He laced their fingers together when their gaze met.

„I have feelings for you too.” She coughed up nervously. A very rare beaming smile lit up Ethan's face. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

„I know.”

[obxlife]

Roofied (Pogue Dynamic)

A/N: ok SO this is my first request in a WHILE! I had time this week so I’m going to be working on the requests I have, even those from before I came inactive. Cool? Cool. 

Pairing: Pogue Dynamic

Word count: 1603

Request: ok! so i really love all of ur kie x pogues fics so i was wondering if u could write an imagine where kie is assaulted at a kegger and the pogues are all protective/concerned? maybe she's been roofied and some guy forces himself on her?

Summary: The request, basically (lol). 

Warnings: Underage drinking, drugs, swearing, assault, etc. Also, Kie’s really naive in this, don;t hate her. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

ROOFIED

The keg had only begun ten minutes ago, but the Pogues were already on their third drinks. Well, except for Pope who doesn’t drink. 

Of course, this meant that Kiara was a little bit drunker than the boys, as she couldn’t handle her alcohol as well as them because of her low body weight and also because she had skipped lunch earlier.

This wasn’t stopping her from having a good time though. Soon after JJ served her fourth drink of the night she moved towards the dance floor to dance with some other girls from the Cut. Her hips moved from side to side as giggles and laughter escaped through her beer-coated lips. 

However, Kie soon enough felt as if she was melting. Her crop top and jean shorts seemed sticky against her skin due to the thin layer of sweat that covered her body. She moved towards the edge of the beach, where there were no bonfires and plenty of driftwoods she could sit upon. 

Kiara moved her gaze towards the stars, distracted at how beautiful it all looked. She hadn’t been out of her house in a while mainly because of all the schoolwork she had, but summer was approaching and this meant less homework. And more time to party.

A soft sigh escaped her lips just as she heard steps from behind her. Assuming it was one of her boys coming to pester her, she didn’t turn around and instead said, “What? Bored of the party already?”

To her surprise, the voice that answered didn’t belong to any of her friends or even someone she knew.

“Yeah, actually. Wondering what a pretty girl like you is doing here.”

The Touron looked like a Kook because of his clothes, but Kiara knew the boy that was in front of her was not from Kildare. He was cute, with green eyes and brown, curly hair, and a smile so white it seemed to blind her just as much as the sun. His tall, muscular build was attractive to her, but the words that spewed out of his mouth had Kiara rolling her eyes. Such patriarchal bullshit.

“To be alone, of course,” she replied before turning back towards the sky. The boy laughed but didn’t seem to get the hint as he sat right next to her. He placed his cup next to hers on the log, before turning to look at the stars.

“I take it you're not one to fall for flirting.”

Kiara scoffed and laughed at the same time, producing a weird sound. She normally would have been embarrassed, but the alcohol in her blood prevented her from feeling that.

“Not at all.”

Silence fell upon them and Kiara felt a bit awkward. She reached down for her cup and took a sip of the liquid. Her nose scrunched at the weird salty taste it had - she was almost sure her beer had not tasted that way before. However, when she took another sip, her beer almost seemed normal. Had she imagined it? She wasn’t sure. Kiara blamed her inebriated state on the weird taste of her drink, assuming her brain had made it up.

“So, do you live here?” the Touron by her side asked. 

“Yeah, year-round,” she answered while turning to look at him. He was closer to her, and she noticed how his eyes darted towards her cup for a second before looking up at her again. 

“That’s cool. I bet you're like a pro surfer or something.”

This earned a giggle from Kiara, who suddenly began to feel a little bit dizzy. She pushed the feeling away as she continued to talk to the cute boy beside her. His replies made her laugh, but she slowly felt herself becoming less and less focused on her surroundings, similar to a camera lens that was unfocused. She tried to talk, but her words seemed to slur together. 

Feeling unsafe, she tried to stand and make up an excuse to get back to the party, but the boy stood with her as she fell towards him, barely being able to support his own weight.

What is happening? Kiara questioned herself. She tried to think if someone had taken hold of her cup throughout the night, but she was sure only she had been holding it. But then what was wrong?

“What’s wrong?” The boy asked her as he pulled her closer. Kie tried to raise her arms to push the boy away, but they felt like they were led. Panic was rising within her as she realized that he, the unknown Touron she had been talking to, had probably been the one to slip something into her cup.

Barely being able to keep her eyes open, Kie tried to say, “I want to go back to the party.”

The boy only shushed her and pulled her along the beach, further from the other teenagers partying on the beach. Barely conscious now, Kie was truly panicking. She knew that soon enough she would be blacked out and that the boy holding onto her would be doing things to her that she didn’t even want to think about. At least I’ll be unconscious, Kie thought to herself.

Just as she felt the boy laying her down on the ground, a savior came through her bad luck. “Kie!” she heard someone shout. She couldn’t recognize the voice very well, but she was betting it was one of her boys.

“I’m here!” she tried to scream out, but a large, meaty hand came around her face and above her mouth.

“Shut up,” the Touron said to her as he reached down for his zipper. Kie forced her muscles to move against him, to fight him, but they were weighed down by whatever drug the boy had given her. 

“Stop, stop, please,” she tried to say. All of the noise coming from her mouth was muffled by the boy’s enormous hands.

“Kie!” the voice called again, a lot closer.

Kie couldn’t tell the difference between seconds and minutes now. She couldn’t tell if the boy above her had been fumbling with his shorts for only a few moments or for longer. She felt as if the space surrounding her was constricting and expanding at the same time, and her brain was so disconnected from the word that she swore she couldn’t feel the cold sand against her back.

All of a sudden, the Touron was thrown away from her body as another pair of hands came to rest upon her arms. They pulled her up into a sitting position, although Kie almost fell down again from not being able to hold herself up. She hated feeling like this, but no matter how hard she struggled against the drug she was under, she couldn’t help but slump over herself.

Another pair of hands came to hold onto her head just as her world turned completely black.

Panicked, Kie shot up from wherever she had been resting. Her eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other as recognition slowly entered her frantic eyes. Before her, she saw Pope, John B, and JJ. They were sprawled on the floor around the bed in the spare room of the Chateau. Kie controlled her erratic breaths until they seemed to be at a normal frequency, and she moved a bit as if to see how her muscles felt. She couldn’t remember much from the kegger after she began to talk to the green-eyed Touron, and she knew that was a bad sign.

In her panic, she moved across the bed and leaned over Pope. She shook his body as tears gathered within her eyes. “Pope! Pope! Please wake up.”

The dark-skinned teenager shot up from his place, the blanket that had been draped up to his shoulders slipping down to his waist. He rubbed his eyes before focusing on the crying girl before her. “Kie!”

“What happened?” she questioned as she wrapped her arms around her legs. Her crying had now also awoken John B and JJ, who sat down on the edge of the bed she was seated upon. Her eyes flashed to their knuckles, noticing both of them had scabs and dried up blood upon them. 

“Um... the Touron roofied your drink,” Pope began. Another strike of panic arose within Kie, as she brought her legs even closer to her body. “He was going to... do stuff to you, but we got there in time.”

Kie nodded before asking in confirmation, “So nothing happened?”

John B and Pope shook their heads as JJ answered her query, “Nah. We got there just in time. And we totally gave him what he deserved.”

“Yeah,” John B agreed. He brushed a hand through his hair, and the movement brought Kie’s attention to his black eye. Had they really saved her? “The douche was a total coward for doing that too. We beat him up pretty bad and made him promise he wouldn’t press charges against us or anything.”

Kie sobbed once again as she lunged forward, enveloping all three boys before her in her arms. She felt so safe with them - such a contrast to how she had felt at the boneyard with the Touron. She was so grateful to have them there taking care of her. They had even slept in the same room as her, almost as if guarding her.

“Thank you,” she whispered between her tears and choking sobs. The boys could only hug her back and hope that they could express through their actions just how happy they were that she was okay.

**************************************************************

A/N: this was short and kind of bad but this was super hard for me to write, idk why. I’m sorry if this sucks.

[starfirette]

Every Which Way : Chapter Two

The Way To Nevarro

➡️a/n: a new series! Woohoo! Shoutout to  https://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/ for inspiring the names of the people and planet. There is possible false information regarding Mandalorian culture, so don’t bitch to me about it.

➡️ prev chapter found on masterlist

➡️Din Djarren x Reader/The Mandalorian x Reader | attempted murder | arranged marriage | love triangle kinda | slow burn romance | mild smut | angst to fluff | strangers to lovers | word count: 7,237

➡️ JOIN THE TAGLIST  | NEXT CHAPTER >> !

Mando’s only command is to stay with him at all times. 

He did not want you to wander or stray from his side.

You felt jittery with excitement. You agreed to all of his terms knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to survive without him. You can’t read, write, or even spell, so how could you make it on this planet? 

Mando explained before you two left the ship that Nevarro is a planet of a bounty congregation that calls themselves The Guild. You know that means at least one person here will have heard about the missing servant girl from Aniri. Mando explained further that while he is a member of the guild, he is first and foremost a Mandalorian warrior. 

You knew of Mandalorians, but not much else. 

Venturing out to the town, clad in the leather jacket (which Mando insisted you wear zipped over your plain shirt) and by Mando’s side, you asked him many questions. Where would you go, what would happen? You wanted to know. 

But mostly you wanted to talk. 

You’ve kept your inner dialogue “inner” for too long, now, and you’ve decided you will babble to your heart’s content. Mando didn’t seem to mind. He answered all of your questions truthfully and without judgment. He understands that you lacked a proper education and he doesn’t make you feel bad about it.

He’s easy to be around, despite his often awkward bouts of silence. 

His strides are a bit faster than you’re used to, so you catch yourself jogging just to keep up. 

Nevarro is very sandy, you have learned. At least it’s sandy out in the middle of nowhere . You wonder why Mando would have landed the ship so far away from wherever he’s taking you, but you don’t ask him to explain. He’s in charge, you tell yourself, and that’s perfectly okay with you. 

Your feet kicked up sand that irritates the back of your thighs. 

“We’re here,” Mando said. You’d stopped outside the entrance to the sandy village, guarded by two men in uniforms you’d never seen before. Mando exchanged a few words with them, explaining he had business with the guild. 

“Who’s the pretty lady?” One of them asked, pointing at you with a blaster. They have the same sort of modulated voice that Mando does. Your knees felt weak when you realized they’d been talking to you, looking at you. 

“No one you need to worry about,” Mando gruffly replied. 

Still, the man zeroed in on you. “Why don’t you let her answer me? Huh, gorgeous?” 

You are hardly able to stammer out a proper response. Your knees wobbled. Gorgeous. The word here is a compliment, but you’ve gone your entire life dodging compliments. Being ‘gorgeous’ wasn’t good, not ever, it only causes trouble. As the soldier’s helmet bobbed down then up, you could tell the rules of beauty might not be entirely different on Nevarro. 

“She’s mine,” Mando growled. “Are you letting us in or not?”

With a defeated shrug, the man let out both in. Mando ushered you with an arm around your waist, just barely there, not quite touching you, but enough to keep you safe. 

The Nevarro village is filled with the same sort of soldier who’d given you a hard time at the gateway. 

“Who are they?” You asked, careful to keep your eyes straight ahead. 

“Storm troopers,” Mando explained. “They’re all—,”

“Imperial?” You guessed. You tucked stray hair behind your ear. 

Mando made a confirming sound as he continued to usher you through the village. 

“I often worked events for the court when they entertained Imperial officers,” you mutter. “Are the rumors about the war true?” 

Mando nods. 

“Everything you’ve heard about the Empire is completely true,” he whispered in your ear. 

A sharp shiver rolled down your spine. You exhale a shaky breath. 

“Left here,” Mando instructed, taking you on a sudden turn. The alley slips into a steep slope, where at the end is a large dumpster positioned beside a little metal door. 

“Where are we going?” You finally asked, unable to contain your questions. 

“Just follow me,” Mando pressed as he kicked open the creaky door. 

You did as he asked, but with a sour feeling at the bottom of your stomach. 

Through the door is a tunnel that runs long with stone floors. You feel almost at home, in the most inappropriate of ways. 

“Where are we?”

“Underground,” Mando says. “I’m taking you to my people. They can protect you while I figure out what to do next.” He offers you a hand to help you maneuver between the jagged stone that scatters around the floor. 

The warm leather of his glove soaks into your palm as you squeeze his fingers and step over the jagged rocks. The darkness deepens the more you walk along. 

“How can you see?” You ask. 

He pulls you out of the way of a rock you can’t see, pulling you close to his body.  Nestled against his armor, all you can think about is the smell of his pillows. 

“My helmet does more than hide my ugly face,” Mando whispered, a lilt of amusement somewhere in his words. 

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh. So he does have a sense of humor.

“We’re here,” Mando eventually murmurs in your ear. His hand found your lower back and gently he pushed you forward. You step downward, onto a new setting of cobblestone that massages the arches of your feet. 

Light came to your eyes, blinding you momentarily as you stumbled back into Mando’s arms. He helped you stay upright while you rubbed your eyes. 

You’re standing amidst the underground world of Mandalorians. It’s a medium sized congregation of people wearing armor like your friend. The telltale sign is the helmet with the signature T visor and precise slopes around the jaw. Some armor gold, others blue, but all in all they are the same. Mingling into the crowd you feel unseen eyes on you. You curl into your Mandalorian’s side, heart beating painfully. 

“It’s alright,” he assures you. His helmet tips down as though he were looking straight at you. “You’re going to be safe here.”

You’d been under the impression Mandalorians had an entire planet to themselves. You can’t say you know much, if anything at all, about them, but the rumors that did manage to spread around the Anirian servants made Mandalorians out to be practically invincible. It is why your king and queen hired your Mandalorian to kill that man. 

Mando had delivered, and he’d done it in less than a day. You can’t imagine what a whole colony of Mandalorians can do. 

“Well, well, well, look who decided to pop back in, hm?” 

Mando stopped in his steps and groaned quietly. 

He turned to look at the largest man you’ve ever seen. Your eyes trailed up and up to finally see this man’s crimson helmet. How could anyone be so tall? You swallowed a lump in your throat as you inched closer to Mando. 

“Well, well, I see you didn’t do anyone a favor and abandon the planet,” Mando grunted. 

The other Mandalorian laughed, booming through his modulator as he bent over himself to pat his knee. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? And who is this?”

Your face burns as the Crimson Mandalorian inspects you up and down with an exaggerated nod of his head. 

“Djarren, aren’t you a bit old to be pickin’ up foundlings?” Crimson chortled. “She is pretty, but a little old to be a recruit.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Mando asked, in that same stoic tone. 

Crimson ignored him; you imagine he probably rolled his eyes, as he didn’t seem as intimidated by Mando as many others did. He held out an open hand in front of you. 

You flinched away, half expecting him to grab you or drag you down the hall kicking. Rather than that, he just waited for you to do something. 

“Don’t ya know how to shake hands?” Crimson asked. 

Mando knocked his friend’s hand away. “Leave her alone.”

“Smitten, are we?” Crimson mocked. “I’m not so sure how the others will react to you giving away the covert. Where’d you pick her up, eh? You a Hutt whore?” Crimson asked you with a jut of his chin.

“A what?” You asked. It didn’t sound like a good thing to be. 

“Leave her alone,” Mando grits out. “Let’s leave,” Mando says as he leads you away. “What’s a Hutt whore?” You asked Mando as you were escorted away. “Something you’re not,” he assures you. 

Many heads turned your way as you followed Mando through the underground colony. You earned the attention from every Mandalorian you walked by; you’re not so certain, anymore, that it’s your lack of armor as it is your presence beside your Mandolorian. 

“The Crimson Mandalorian called you Djarren,” you murmur, intertwining your hand with his. 

He quickly pulls his hand away. “That’s my name,” he says stiffly. “Din Djarren.” 

It’s a perfectly normal name but it somehow feels different. 

You want to tell him it’s nice; only thing is, you’ve started to realize he isn’t your friend like you’d mistaken. He didn’t hold your hand and he didn’t even want you to know about his name. You fold your hands behind your back as you follow Din into the first room you’ve seen in a while. A burning sort of stove pillar lights up the entire room from the center, where something inside boils. Weapons hang along the walls, sharper and made with more intricacies than you’ve ever seen on decor, let alone on weapons. 

Two Mandalorian women occupied the room, one donning gold armor and fur as she tended to the furnace; the other lounged in a chair, her legs kicked over a table with a sword strewn in her lap, which she sharpens at her own leisure. 

The Mandalorian women inside are muscular and beautiful, even with their masks covering their faces. Aniri required servant girls to wear makeup to hide their beauty, but now you’re doubting it worked at all. You can’t see their skin but you’re enamored by their beauty anyways. 

“Din Djarren,” the Golden Mandalorian says. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you,” Din replies. “Hello, Wendi,” he adds to the Blue Mandalorian that sits. “Din,” Wendi replies, her voice smooth as butter. 

“I see you’ve brought a visitor,” Golden drawls. She sets down a large hammer on her work table, coming to examine you closeup. “I would suppose this is the girl you spoke of in your last transmission.”

“Yes,” Din replies curtly. “She was a slave in Aniri, condemned to execution.”

Wendi raked her stone up her sword with a sharp hiss. Sparks flew on her lap. “And her crime?” Wendi asked.

Three visors turned to you. You suddenly realized they meant to listen to you speak for yourself. 

You’d never gotten the chance to explain before. You spoke up best as you could with your chest tight with anxiety. “I tried to escape the palace while also abandoning my makeup.”

“Your makeup?” Wendi cried. A laugh escaped her modulator as she tossed the sword to the cobblestone floor that had begun to pain at your feet. You felt increasingly smaller by the minute, especially as Wendi took to her feet and made her own examination of you. 

“Awfully plain without this makeup, isn’t she?” Wendi drawled. 

At your sides your hands form tight fists. “On the contrary, ma’am,” you muttered while your nails bit your palm. “I was told to wear makeup because I am beautiful.”

Wendi sniffed behind her modulator. “And awfully sarcastic,” she snubbed. 

“I wasn’t being sarcastic,” you snap. Your heart jitters for a second, half expecting retaliation or punishment for speaking with such a tone. None came. You were in slight awe as you realized the extent of your freedom. “I only meant to answer your questions,” you added, softly now as you chew the inside of your lip.

The Golden woman lifted a hand to silence one of Wendi’s impending remarks. “I’m sure you’ve had a very exhausting two days,” Gold says smoothly. “Not to mention the complete and utter lack of proper clothing from Djarren.”

Mando remained totally silent, his helmet staring expressionless at Gold. 

“Yeah, it’s almost as if Din’s never had a girlfriend before,” Wendi purred as she elbowed Din on his side. 

Din tilts his helmet to her. “More than you have,” he says. 

You never heard such jokes from Din’s lips! He calmly explained everything in full detail, then, from his bounty Kais Korren to the number of ships that chased him off planet. 

“They considered Y/n property,” Din recalled, looking at you. You stared deep into the visor, unable to tell if Din is even actually looking at you.

“We have all heard of your stunt, already,” Wendi notes from her corner of the room. “As if we didn’t need anything else to be on the run for. I suppose now we’ll have to help fix your mistake.”

Gold made a fist, hitting it against her worktable, making Wendi jump in her blue armor. “That,” Gold says slowly, “is the Way. Mistake or not, Din Djarren is one of this clan and he will have help. Whether he asks for it, or not,” she adds. 

Wendi crosses her arms over the dented chest plate. “This is the Way,” she agrees, although begrudgingly. “—but we do have other pressing matters, like it or not. This little girl just adds to the mess.”

You hadn’t realized that was what you were til now. 

A little mess of a girl, as Wendi had so vehemently put it. You stub your toes against the cobblestone, feeling your chest pain grow as Wendi’s accusatory finger pointed you out. 

While you failed to speak up, Din’s leather bound hands clenched. “She needs our help,” Din growled. 

“Your help. You failed to think of your people,” Wendi snapped. 

“I wasn’t going to let an innocent woman die,” Din replies. To his credit, he remained calm and level headed, which was not the same for you. Tears gathered in your eyes as you realized Wendi meant you had put her and her people in danger. 

These people—these Mandalorians— all live underground for a reason. 

You’re an outsider. 

You quickly rub your tears away. Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you clear your throat. “I’m truly sorry,” you choke out, “for the trouble I must have caused.”

“You have not caused any trouble,” Gold soothes. “There are many ways we can ensure your safety. Anirians are vicious and they use their laws as their weapons. You were born into servant ranks and thus are considered an object of the court. Taking you off planet is the equivalent of taking their money or jewels. Each day that passes wears their patience. They are more likely to negotiate today than they will be tomorrow.”

“So?” Wendi asked, circling her hands around impatiently, trying to draw a conclusion in the air. 

“So we don’t have a lot of time left for dallying about,” Golden concludes, her voice firm. “Before anything, Y/n needs proper clothing. Shoes even, if it’s not too much to ask for, Djarren?” 

Din stayed still for a moment longer than you’d expected. “…Fine,” Din says, flatly. “You’ll be safe with our Armorer,” Din says to you. His voice lowered as he stepped closer, looking down at you with what you hoped to be tenderness. “I’ll be back soon.”

You nod, releasing the tension in your hands. You didn’t want Din to leave you here, not with these strangers. 

You are sheltered, yes, but you are not stupid. You know you must remain unattached from Din Djarren. He saved your life without much thought; including the lack of thought concerning where you’d live and who you’d depend on. You don’t think Din had intended for you to be his friend at all. You’re actually not his friend in any way, shape, or form. So even though you felt ill at the thought of being left behind by Din, you did nothing to object. 

“Okay,” you murmured.

You brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. 

You tried not to watch Din while he exchanged hushed, last minute words with Wendi. Both helmets tilt to look at you. Wendi finally looked to Din and nodded. 

“Will you stay with her?” Din asked. 

The Golden Mandalorian nods. “She is safe here. This is the Way.” 

You’re not certain of what the Way entailed, but it evidently provided you with your own lodgings. 

You followed Gold out of the furnace room, struggling to not look over your shoulder and search for Din’s retreating figure. His armor blended with the rest, becoming lost in a sea of Mandalorians. You returned your attention to Gold. She doesn’t earn as many greetings as Din had on the way in; rather she got nothing. You couldn’t tell if she was disliked among her community or not. Given her well polished armor, you guess she could be in charge. It might be respect keeping her left alone; respect and maybe even some fear. 

The sway of her hips and the sword that bobbed with them left you a little bit speechless. You’d never seen such armor. Aniri forbade women from being much of anything aside from servants; women were fortunate to be born into the court, where they were treated equally as men just because they’d been lucky enough to be born into rich families. Even those women, however, were not allowed to do certain things. They could not join guardian ranks; they could not leave the planet. Seeing that Mandalorian women can be so strong willed plants the smallest seeds of hope inside you.

As much as you’d love to be as strong and capable as Gold, you still feel so small. After all, you fidget your hands, unsure of how you’re supposed to hold yourself together as you follow behind Gold. Surely the servant position isn’t expected of you, with your head tilted down and your hands folded neatly by your lap. 

You struggle to be comfortable in your own skin. You’re not entirely sure you enjoy living day to day without your makeup. 

On the ship, with Din, it was alright. Except now you’re off the ship, where people are able to see your face. It’s strange to think you’ve been given freedom by people that don’t show their faces to anyone, either. Perhaps it’s just irony you’re experiencing. 

Gold brings you to the end of the tunnel, which is just one stretch hallway. After all of the walking, you’re shocked to find that there is still more to the tunnel beyond the bedroom you’re being given. 

The wooden door creaks open. Before you is the best room you’ve ever seen, despite its lack of space. There is a wardrobe, a mirror, a single cushioned chair, and a bed. 

“This room will be yours until we have secured a home for you,” Gold says. She makes two paces across the room to the wardrobe. The old thing only has linens to offer.  

The room is a bit small; the new brick walls and cobblestone floors give off an even smaller illusion. 

“The covert does not conjoin for meals,” Gold continues, prim and perfect as ever. She puts the stack of linens in your arms. “There is a common room with food portions directly down this hallway. If you need anything, someone there can help. I am usually in the furnace. Din and Wendi have gone to collect for you clothes, shoes, and other such things. The women use the washrooms every night. Men use them in the mornings.” 

She almost left before pausing, then turning to look at you again. Her golden visor aimed at your eyes. She says, “There is one rule. Do not leave the tunnel. Above ground are Imperial guards. They will arrest you without hesitation. If you find yourself in trouble and in need of help then yell for it. Din will be back soon.”

Gold departed, shutting the wooden door behind her. You were tempted to follow, but she didn’t seem like the type that wanted company. It must be a Mandalorian thing. Sighing, you hugged the linens to your chest. You’re eager to make your bed, even if it was small and lumpy. It’s soft; above all, safe. 

Your linens smell old, but it’s a pleasant smell. It feels nostalgic of a time you couldn’t have known. You smooth the quilt over the mattress, trying to pat out any wrinkles with your fingers. It’s a bit strange knowing the bed is yours to really relax in. 

You aligned the quilt to the corners of the mattress. 

Satisfied with the work, you gladly crawled under the blankets. Cuddling into the mothy pillows, you lay on your back. 

The ceiling has a few cracks in it. 

How had this tunnel been built? Why did the Mandalorian people not have their own village? These questions you had no guesses for; the new world you’ve been invited into is curious, and becomes curiouser every waking moment. It frightens you but excites you all at once, a feeling you’ve never felt before. 

A knock on the door awakens you from your dreamless sleep. You sat up, vision blurry and mouth dry. Hours must have gone by. You stand, your bruised feet once more being pressed by the cobblestones embedded to the floor. 

Your hand stretched for the creaky handle. Beyond the door was Din. 

You didn’t know how to greet him. 

Awkwardly struggling for the right pose proved difficult. Would he expect respect? Gratitude? Would he want something in return for what he had done for you?

“Hello,” you murmured, averting your eyes from the T of his helm. 

“I woke you,” he said. 

“You did,” you acknowledged. You glanced into your small room before shuffling back. “Come in,” you said. 

Din entered. It must have been hours judging by the creakiness in your joints, but Din hadn’t changed out of his heavy armor. He set down a large laundry box on your lumpy bed. “This is for you,” he said. 

You peered into the box. You were confused to find rolls of velvet tightly wrapped and stacked on top of each other. It reminds you of birthday presents, of the neatly wrapped boxes the princes and princess would receive yearly. You’d watched the opening from afar, never once imagining you’d have the chance to do the same thing one day. 

With wary hands, you scooped up a roll of velvet, not looking at Din as you unfolded the cloth. 

Shiny cuffs of metal shone at you from their soft blanket. “It’s pretty,” you say, stunned by the perfect roundness of the cuffs. 

“They’re yours,” Din said, voice a bit stiff. “Armor.”

Puzzled, you cast a questioning glance. 

Din approached, his leather bound hands wrapping around the metal. He slid the first over your arm. The cuff fit perfectly around your forearm, casting upwards to your elbow and ending at your wrist. You stared at the piece of armor in shock. Your face looked back at you from the sheen of the heavy metal. 

“How does it feel?” Din asked, his hand still adjusting the cuff around your wrist. His fingers are warm even through the leather gloves. They rested on the inside of your palm as he examined the fit up close. Your ears burned at the feeling of his touch. Each little tap on the delicate skin of your palm tingled. 

“It feels nice,” you said. “This, I mean,” you add. 

Din notices you staring at his hands on yours, and he drags his hand away too slowly. The pads of his fingers left spots that burned on your skin. 

“There’s more,” Din added, tilting his head up to gaze at the ceiling. He looked around at your small room before cocking his head to you. “Are you comfortable?” He asked. 

“Of course,” you say, tucking hair behind your ear bashfully. A smile peeled over your lips as you glanced around your very own sanctuary. “I love it very much.”

“It doesn’t bother you how horribly plain and undecorated it is?” Din asked. He was clearly joking, but you became serious. “I have privacy and the luxury to do what I want,” you say. “That’s all I could have asked for.”

If Din was surprised, he didn’t say anything to display it. “I’m sorry,” Din finally let out. 

You had been pushing around the box for other goodies and upon hearing this, you became startled. “You’re sorry?” You guffaw. “I’m going to be eternally grateful for what you’ve done for me,” you continued. You clutched the other arm piece close to your chest, glad to have something physical to keep you down to the planet. 

“That’s just why I am sorry,” Din grunted out. “I’m not a good person to become attached to.”

You blink. Shocked, you slide the arm cuff off and set it loose on the bed. “I never meant to ‘attach’ to you,” you mumbled. “Thank you for the armor, and for everything else. I can sift through in private if you’d like to leave.” 

Din left as you’d suggested. 

Curious; Din is very curious. You wonder what he meant by the apology. Perhaps you had grown attached…it would be hard not to! After all, Din had saved you from Aniri. You’d only meant to show your gratitude. Like he had on the Razor Crest, Din once again rejected your gratitude. You suspected he would rather pretend nothing happened at all. He’d rather live his life without you in it. 

The thought slashed your heart in half. A world without Din? You’ve known him for four days and he’s taken such care of you. 

Being reminded of care, you returned your attention to the box on your bed. Enveloped in rolls of velvet were sets of shoes and new clothes. Among that, there were other pieces of metal formed in a way you could only imagine to be armor. Every piece shone and you suspected they were all brand new from the smell of slight smoke that lingered on them. But they were polished to perfection, allowing you to see every detail of your own face in them. 

The soft tunics and the fitting trousers were a miracle to receive. Comfortable and, dare you say it, a bit stylish. 

What truly took the cake were the pairs of boots. They rose above your ankles and laced up with red string that stood out against the black leather. You almost loved the shoes more than the socks! And the socks you immediately slipped on. They cushioned your skin against the cobblestone a bit better, but starting tomorrow you’d get to wear shoes like any other person in the galaxy. 

The next morning you rose early and dressed neatly. You’d missed your opportunity to use the washrooms last night. They were reserved for the men to use in the morning, so you’d have to wait until night came to shower. 

This did not worsen your mood, as you were very excited to wear new clothes for a change. You paired a baby blue tunic and plain trousers.

Wearing the cuffs and shin guards felt strange. You almost didn’t want to wear it as you feared the sort of attention it would bring, but you did remind yourself that the rest of the covert wore full body armor, including the helmets, on a daily basis. 

If anything about you was to be found weird, it wouldn’t be your outfit—it would be that you are an outsider. 

Over the tunic you shrug on the leather jacket, cuddling into the butter soft fabric. You stretch your hands through the sleeves, and the shiny cuffs are just barely visible from the cuffs. 

You venture out of your room with a heartbeat that thunders in your ears. Drifting along the tunnel path are Mandalorians who casually wield weapons like blasters and blades that are taller than even you. Cautiously avoiding their gaze, you creep along the walls in search of the furnace. You hoped to find Din among the covert, but he isn’t anywhere to be seen. A clock would be nice to have. You can only assume it is morning. When you’d entered the tunnel yesterday, the sun was on its way down. Would Din be sleeping now? Would he be out, above ground?

The furnace only housed Gold, who currently wielded a knife and cloth, with which she polished the blade so it gleamed brilliantly. 

“Good morning, miss,” you say softly. 

“Good morning,” she greeted. She didn’t turn to face you, but she did set down her work. She cleaned around her work space, and you simply stood by watching in awkward silence. “You can have a seat,” Gold suggests. “Unless you’d rather stand.” 

You took a place in the chair which Wendi had occupied yesterday, where she lazily played with her sword.

You shrugged out of your leather coat as you felt the heat begin to bother you. As you draped the jacket over the back of your chair, the Armorer glanced over at you. 

“Do you like them?” she asked. 

“What do you mean?”

“The armor,” she says, gesturing to your arm and leg plates with a heavy glove. “I made them the minute Djarren transmitted the message of your arrival. How do they fit?” 

“Perfectly,” you say. You look at the metal that wraps around your forearm. “What is it?” 

“Beskar,” she replies. “I do apologize for the lack of any other pieces.” 

“Well, I should thank you for what you have given me,” you say, as you tuck hair behind your ear. The locks of hair gathers sweat on the back of your neck. You dab your forehead with the back of your hand. “I am confused, though. Why did I get armor in the first place?” 

“You are in the care of the covert,” Gold explains. “This means we are responsible for your safety until you can be relocated. It’s only natural we give you a bit of armor to keep you safe. Although Wendi did give me hell for it.” 

You crinkle your nose. Wendi must not be happy about your arrival. You suspect many would not be. 

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Gold asks. You shook your head. “Would you like to join me in the meeting hall?” she then suggested. “It would give you a chance to meet the others.” 

You supposed it would have to happen eventually. 

Following the Armorer to the main hall, you fiddled your thumbs together.

Exposure to Mandalorians, to actual people, made you sick to your stomach. You’d never worn such tight fitting clothing. On Aniri you’d be called an enemy of the court, condemned to trial for indecency. It seems no one minds, though, as they all dress similarly. The Mandalorians that don’t wear armor wear trousers and tunics, often, however, donning some sort of safety plates on their backs or arms like you. While you feared being judged for indecency, the rational part of your brain knows you will be judged for the lack of a Mandalorian helmet. Every planet has those who fear outsiders. You don’t know the word for it, but it breaks your heart. The royal court hated outsiders. They joined forces with the Empire because the Empire feels similarly. How could someone hate another living being just because they were born on a different planet? You couldn’t understand, as you’ve never felt that way even after living your whole life on Aniri. 

The question really dialed down to this: would the covert hate you for being an outsider, or would they fear the trouble an outsider might bring? The difference may be subtle, but it’s there no doubt. 

The meeting hall did have several people filling it out. Most bore tunics and trousers like you, but still bore leather belts and cuffs. You recognized Wendi immediately from her helmet bobbing on the corner of the room. It had a delicate touch to it, the carvings of the metal curly and wispy. She didn’t have her blue armor on today, instead a black tunic with long sleeves and tight trousers that rose to her waist. You’d never seen such trousers before but you suddenly long to have simliar types. It was a marvelous outfit to wear, and the black danced with her gold wrist cuffs and knee pads. 

Din Djarren is nowhere to be seen. 

You wanted to see him and ask him what he meant, last night, about attachment. For some curious reason, the comment bothered you all night. It even haunted your dreams. Perhaps he rejects your reverence towards him. You couldn’t simply make the feeling go away. You’d feel that way forever, because Din had done something you could never do for him. You would never be able to repay him no matter how hard you tried. You want to thank him one last time, even if he didn’t want to hear it. He single handedly saved your life. Of course you’d want to thank him, right?

Gold offered you a seat at the main table. A large basket overflowed with food that made your mouth water. This differed much from the stale bread and leftover poultry you’d been allowed to eat back in the ranks. 

You reached for a block of white cheese, tossing it over in your hand before taking a deep sniff. It smelled delicious. You took a tiny bite and lo! how your mouth watered. You had never tasted such flavor in your life, and this had been a single bite of a single square of cheese. You anxiously nibbled around the edges, trying not to let on how impressed you were with just cheese. Embarrassing, really. You’d be bullied no doubt. 

The Armorer made conversation with the warriors around her while she supervised you as you ate. You were encouraged to eat as much as you wanted, but you hesitated to do that. Even when your belly felt filled, you wanted to keep on eating, half out of the fear you wouldn’t get an opportunity to again. 

“So,” a voice drew behind you. “This is her?” 

You froze. The hair on your neck prickled when Gold said, “Yes, although I believe she can speak for herself.”

You turned to look who had inquired about you. The Mandalorian that had given you a hard time yesterday towered over you in his crimson armor. As you looked up at him, he crossed his arm over his strapping chest. 

“So she’s staying?” He asked. 

The tips of your ears burned with embarrassment as Gold appeared to be glowering. “Ryder,” she snapped. “I’m certain that you were at the meeting last night. Don’t waste your breath with nonsense.” 

You swallowed back the anxiety that plagued your chest. “Ah, yes, the meeting,” he said thoughtfully, as if he had just remembered. Although you had a feeling he was being sarcastic. “Where we all voted on killing the little girl.” 

You buried your head down to your chest, chin quivering with tears as you felt guilt and overwhelming anxiety boil in your blood. 

“I’m not a little girl,” you muttered, just quietly enough that you hoped Ryder hadn’t heard. 

“What was that?” He mocked. 

Something savage spurred across your brain as you rose to your feet, the chair you’d been in falling to the ground. “I’m not a little girl,” you said again. The quiver in your mouth had transformed into a sneer as you kept your chin raised to look Ryder in the eye. Maybe the anxiety you’d been feeling wasn’t anxiety at all. 

It was anger. 

With no one to punish you for “stepping out of line” you could express said anger all you wanted, and you started with Ryder. 

A mistake, it might have been, as Gold had to use an hand to brace Ryder back by his chest plate. 

Searing across your body was the wave of regret and mild, mild fear; in that mixture was a pinch of satisfaction. Standing up for yourself felt good. But you imagined a punch in the face from Ryder wouldn’t feel as great. 

“Your vote was cast, Vizsla,” The Armorer reminded him. “I won’t remind you who the deciding vote was. You are obligated to follow your brethren in protecting Y/n or you can join Boba Fett and his fascist friends on Nevarro. This is the Way.”

Ryder seemed like he could be seething behind his mask, but you had no way of really knowing. “This is the Way,” he grit through his modulator. 

Anger issues, you think as he stomps away. To the Armorer you quickly apologized. “I’m very sorry, Miss,” you tell her with a bob of your head. 

“Do not be,” Gold said dismissively. “Vizsla needs to be put in his place, and you need to continue standing up for yourself. It is imperative if you want to survive.” 

Stunned, you nodded. You see the honesty in her words, and while she might have been blunt about it, she was very, very right. 

How curious the Mandalorians have turned out to be…

“I suppose now would be as good a time as any to walk you through our way of life here.” 

You held out a hand, though it wavered, to stop Gold from continuing. “Before that,” you stutter, “could I ask just what ‘meeting’ you refferred to with Ryder?” 

“Ah,” Gold hummed. “Last night the covert convened a meeting in which we all voted to keep you with us or to send you away. Ryder voted against it. The deciding vote was his elder brother, Paz. He voted for you to stay and I suppose Ryder didn’t like that.” 

You sighed. You looked down at yourself, at the baby blue of your tunic and how it splashed like the ocean against your beskar cuffs. “I ought to thank you again, Miss. I am forever indebted to the covert.” 

Gold tipped her helmet forward, leaving it inclined for a second too long. “This is the Way.”

The Way is what you will be grateful for even after life. Gold brought you along to the furnace after you grabbed one more block of cheese. She showed you the set of her metals. In sheets or in bars, she had a collection of beskar, palladium, ruthenium, and other metals you couldn’t keep track of. 

“You make the armor for everyone?” You asked. You grazed the metals with your finger tips. What does Din wear? You resist the question as you thank Gold for her help today. 

“I am grateful for the armor and for everything else,” you say, inclining your head the way she had done to you earlier. “Could I ask…where is Djarren? Din, I mean.” 

Gold, while taking a thick apron down from a hook, replied, “I am unsure. I think he might be asleep. I haven’t seen him since the vote last night.” “How did he vote?” you asked. You hated the question as soon as it left your lips. But you yearned to know. 

“He was very adamant that you stay,” Gold responded. “In fact he made a very moving speech. It’s the most I’ve heard him say all his life.” 

Your heart fluttered with assurance. “Thank you.”

“If there is anything else you need, you might find it from me or in the gathering hall. Good day, Y/n.” 

“Good day, miss.” 

Shyly stepping out of the furnace and back into the hall, you kept your gaze strictly on the floor. Mandalorians threw lingering glances your way, but they didn’t seem to last as long as you feared. A long table lined the eastern wall, and over it was a stack of books. You’d never seen so many before. You’d never actually held one, either. As much as you wanted to pick one up and read it, you couldn’t; you’d never learned to read before. From where you’re from it’s common to hear that, but you suspect it’s not so common amongst Mandalorians. Another factor for them to ostracize you for. You approached the table to get a closer glimpse at the books. 

Lingering around the book table was a taller man, in dark blue armor, and he inclined his head towards you as a greeting. 

“Hello,” you stuttered. Your intial reaction is always to bob a curtsey when someone greets you, but those days are behind you. 

“You’re Y/n,” the Mandalorian says, “aren’t you?” 

You nodded. “I am.” 

“It’s a pleasure,” he says in his deep voice, “to meet the famed madame. I am Paz.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Paz,” you returned his greeting. “Are you guarding these books because they might run away?” You asked. You half meant it, considering the heavy weapons the were strapped along Paz’s back and belt. 

“Something like that,” Paz said. He laughed. It was strange to hear it! Din hadn’t made such pleasant conversation with you in the two full days you’d been on the Razor Crest with him. The Armorer was very formal and upfront, so she didn’t seem like the conversational type. Wendi and Ryder? They’re non-starters. 

So you were sort of stunned to find that Mandalorians were, in fact, capable of laughter. 

“What do you do here?” you asked, feeling breathless. Finally, someone you could talk to. You’ve never gotten to truly talk to anyone, ever! You’re filled with questions and hope that Paz could answer some. 

“Among the covert we have our respective jobs. Titles, almost. I’m apart of the covert’s makeshift infantry. I usually guard and protect, that is.”

“And so the books are under your watch?” 

“Sure. Not as prisoners, but as…well, they’re a bit like you. I protect them.” 

“Why?”

“Because they were in my family for a long time. Most of them, anyways. Some have been bought by other Mandalorians here. Consider this the library of the covert.” He waved a hand across the table. “Would you like one?” 

Gnawing on your lip, you shake your head “no.” 

“I can’t read,” you admit. It was easy to say it to Paz. Paz did not laugh or mock the way Ryder or Wendi might have. Paz looked through the books on the table and picked one out for you. 

“This is generally for children,” he admits as he holds it out. “The first pages are the alphabet. Memorizing those letters is the first step to literacy.”

Bashful, you look to the floor. “Oh, thank you. I can at least know the alphabet.” 

Paz shakes his head. “If you’d like help, I will help. Before the covert I taught foundlings who were also illiterate.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t bother you,” you say, hugging the book tightly. 

“It wouldn’t bother me. But I won’t bother you,” Paz says. “You’re welcome to come here at nights, if you want. An hour each day would surely catch you up.” 

With a fuzzy feeling in your chest, you slowly nod. “I suppose it wouldn’t bother me if it wouldn’t bother you,” you admit. “I do want to learn.” 

“Learn, you will,” Paz promised. 

You could hear the smile in his voice. 

next chapter

[littleredwritinghoodxx]

From the Ashes

Original Publication Date: April 12th, 2020

Rating: T

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Her hero loved adventures. Upon returning from his latest adventure, Link brings back something shiny for Zelda.

Word Count: 4,300

--

Her hero loved adventures.

It was something that came with the territory of holding the Tri-Force of Courage, and yet, it was something Zelda really didn't notice until after the Great Calamity – after one hundred years.

After her hero had completely lost his memory.

She supposed, in a way, some things never changed, and yet: she did not remember him to be as adventurous a century prior than he was now. It could be pinpointed back to his duty one hundred years prior: he did not have the flexibility before to drop everything, and take down that lone Talus, or to go help some random person in some far corner of the continent with some menial task. No, he had always been guarding her, always been assisting her, and thus had to swallow his pride and send his men off to take care of the quest, instead of having the opportunity to do it himself.

With the loss of his memories came the loss of his inhibitions: she found that Link was much more open with her now than he was as her appointed knight. With the threat eliminated, he no longer had the weight of protecting the world on his shoulders, and her need for an appointed knight was completely unnecessary.

Though, if you asked him, he would very clearly reiterate, once again, that he would protect her until the day his blade fell.

Her hero was also one for the theatrics.

She would always nod and smile, as he would tell her with great, swooping gestures of rumors he had heard of a long lost treasure, with only an antagonizing riddle as his guide. His enthusiasm was like a wildfire – constantly burning, and ceaselessly contagious. She would rest her head upon her hand, her eyes shimmering in complete adoration, as her knight would tell her of legendary quests, where the treasure was still undiscovered. Sometimes, she would join him on these quests – "You'll never be able to decipher these riddles without me, so I might as well go with you." – and other times, she politely declined – "You want to go fight that silver Hinox in the Lanayru Wetlands? Well, you be sure to be home by supper."

Her hero would always dive head first into whatever quest he had stumbled upon, and would always emerge with that same stupid grin on his face, even as he was covered in Hinox guts or scratched and bruised up from a dungeon. He would always return to their little home in Hateno with some grand story – probably a little over embellished. His smile would light up the room, as he trekked in monster guts and blood and dirt all over the floors – even after she had specifically told him to keep his boots outside after such an adventure.

But it didn't matter – any scolding she had on the tip of her tongue would vanish upon seeing the pure, unfiltered joy on his face: and that was something that, even a year after the Calamity was vanquished, she was always desperate to see.

Most of his adventures he would tell her about were fairly predictable: a Lynel here, a dungeon there, or helping out Koyin with their Bokoblin infestation down by the beach.

However, when he had suggested he venture into Hyrule Castle, she felt all of the blood drain from her face.

"Why would you want to go back there?" Zelda had blurted out, her heart racing in a way she hadn't felt since the months following the Calamity – waking in a cold sweat against some unwelcome nightmare.

"It's filed to the brim with treasures and secrets," Link was explaining, his eyes lighting up in a way she had never seen before, "When I came in to rescue you –"

"I never needed rescuing."

"– I passed by so many treasure chests and hidden passage ways," Link continued, as though she hadn't said a word, "Just to get to you sooner. Just so I could see you smile again. Just think of what we could find."

"Probably things that belong to me and my family, since it was our castle," Zelda said, pointedly, earning a bashful look from her knight.

"Well, yes, but if I don't go in and snatch all that for you, imagine who will. It will be thieves and robbers and people with not the best intentions at heart, and they will take things that had been yours, and you might never see them again."

"Oh," that thought hadn't crossed Zelda's mind, "Well, I hadn't thought about that."

"I've thought about it a lot," Link admitted, standing up and resorting to pacing. He always got like this, whenever he got too excited. He had to be moving, to get that energy flowing. Otherwise, he would completely burst, "It's been a year since we've defeated the Calamity – it's about time that we go back and take whatever relics survived the century and the malice."

"Link –"

"Just think," he rambled on, "the last time you were in the castle, you were fighting Ganon, and now, a year later, we get to go back and take back what is rightfully ours – I mean yours, of course!"

"Link…!"

"We could show him who's boss, one final time, and show him that he can't reign supreme over this land any longer."

"Link!"

Zelda's hands were shaking, her tone pleading as she stared at Link from across the kitchen. During this time, Link had all but strapped the Master Sword to his back – he had already donned his boots and his pack. He looked up from his spot near the front door, confusion evident on his face, until he saw Zelda's trembling form, and his face quickly melted into concern.

Her heart was pounding against her ribcage as she was brought back to the castle: back to the cold hallways with molding tapestries, back to destroyed rooms with broken chandeliers, back to the library – her library – with the pages of her books all faded away to ashes. The memories made her body tremble in ways she had yet to be able to control, and she found herself gripping the back of her chair and the table to stabilize herself.

"Oh Zel," he strode over to her in two long strides, kneeling down before her trembling form, "Shit, I should have known better."

"I'm not going back there," Zelda whispered, the promise like a mantra on her lips.

"And you don't have to," Link reaffirmed, rubbing the tops of her arms with his hands, "I didn't realize – I wasn't thinking. That was stupid of me, and I'm sorry."

He knew that memories of her constant vigilance against the Calamity still plagued her even a year after his demise. He knew that the thought of returning to the castle made her palms sweat and made her heart race despite any constant reassurance that the threat was gone. He knew better – he just didn't think half the time, and that was the problem.

When Impa had suggested not long after they had returned from the castle to Kakariko, that Zelda regain the throne and rebuild the castle, it had taken hours for Link to talk her down from whatever panic riddled notion she had set off in her head. From that moment forward, Link had kept Zelda clear of Impa's suggestions and foremost thoughts, and had to pointedly agree with the old hag when she had suggested that the two make for his little cottage in Hateno Village – away from the castle and away from any reminder of the past one hundred years.

Zelda sniffed, cooling her frayed nerves and giving her hero a brave smile. She was getting quite good at this, after all, "But don't let me stop you," she whispered, grasping his shoulder and giving it a little shake, "You – go – bring me back something shiny."

"Zel, I don't have to go, I can stay here with you," Link tried to reason, but Zelda had already made up her mind. She knew that her hero loved adventures.

"Who else is going to man down the fort while you're gone?" Zelda teased, the corners of her lips turning upwards despite the few lone tears still present on her face.

"I won't be gone long," Link promised, leaning in to press his lips lightly to hers in a chaste kiss, "You'll barely even know I'm gone."

"I'm going to hold you to that promise," Zelda said, the light from the candles shining off of her eyes.

"Alright," Link said, before he stood up, grabbing the Master Sword from its spot by the door, "Something shiny," Link whispered, almost to himself, before he ran out the door, a faint "love you," just barely audible on the wind.

Oh, her hero certainly loved adventures.

The next few days passed in a monotonous routine as Zelda kept herself busy. Most days, she went up towards the Hateno Ancient Tech Lab, as desperate to keep herself busy with the ancient Sheikah relics as she was for the company it provided. In the year that she had lived with Link in Hateno Village, she was reluctant to say she really hadn't made the attempt to make friends throughout the town. Her circle really only consisted of Link and Purah, with the occasional word from Symin. But to her, that was perfect. They were the only ones that she could be open and honest with.

Still, it didn't mean that she didn't long for the company of others from time to time.

Other times, when she didn't want to overstay her welcome at the lab – though Purah had made it quite clear to her that she was always welcome – she would busy herself around the house, either tidying their already immaculate kitchen and living area, busying herself with various tasks or chores that she probably could have done well enough without, or she would find herself with her journal in hand, under the canopies outside the cottage. Writing was soothing to her, and it was a way for her to cope through the trauma of the last one hundred years without the judgment she felt she received from others.

Again, it had been made very clear to her that she would never be judged for the horrors she faced, but still – she worried.

And then finally – finally – after days of isolation, she saw her hero coming up the hill towards their little house on Epona, his smile positively blinding in the late afternoon sunset. His satchel was bursting beside him, and Zelda could not help but grin that he had, indeed, brought back some trinkets from the castle.

He leapt down from the back of Epona and landed just before her, embracing her gently and placing a light kiss on her forehead. The gesture was enough to make Zelda swoon. She couldn't help but still be positively head over heels for him.

"Welcome home," Zelda whispered, tilting her head back slightly and pressing forward on her tiptoes, her lips inching towards his.

His lips met hers instantly, and Zelda felt the world stop spinning around them as butterflies erupted in her belly. He smelled of sweat and campfire, with a thin layer of grime covering his skin. He was absolutely disgusting, and yet she found herself pulling him in even closer, closing the space between their bodies.

It had only been a few days, yet it felt like a lifetime. She always felt like this every time he returned from one of his grand adventures. She never wanted another moment to go by without him if she didn't have to.

"I got you something," Link's breath fanned out over her lips and nose, and she giggled pulling back as he reached into his satchel.

"What did you find?" She asked, her eyes lighting up as Link began pulling things out.

"Well, I raided the Royal Treasury," Link began, pulling out silver and gold rupees, amongst various diamonds, rubies, and sapphires.

"Thief," Zelda shot back, the corners of her lips turning upward.

"Guilty as charged," Link grinned, "You had said to bring you back something shiny."

"Indeed I did."

"But this isn't it."

"No?" Zelda laughed, as she followed Link back inside their little Hateno home, as he placed the rupees and jewels down on their table.

"Not quite," a small smile brushed against his lips, his eyes glimmering with the prospect of a well-kept secret. He looked like a little boy with a gift for his beloved, "My intent was to simply raid the treasury, but then I got an idea."

"What idea was that?"

"Well, I went up into your room to see if I could find anything worth bringing back to you," Link began, "However, nothing in there would have survived a trip out of the castle and back to Hateno, so I left it all there. That is, until we can figure out a way to get them safely moved without destroying them."

"Okay…" Zelda prompted.

"So," Link said, his hand reaching into his satchel, "I went in search of other rooms, and I found this."

From his satchel, he pulled out an exquisite silver necklace, with the Hyrulean Royal Crest engraved on it. It was adorned in sapphires and diamonds, and Zelda would know that necklace anywhere because –

"That's my mother's necklace," Zelda whispered, tears springing to her eyes as she gently held the shining metal, watching the way the jewels glimmered and sparkled in the candlelight, "I haven't seen this in… well, over a century, of course, but before my mother passed away."

"I thought you might like it," Link whispered, his hand reaching up to her arm, his thumb rubbing small circles in it, "I wasn't quite sure whose it was, but I found it in your father's chambers, hidden in a jewelry box, and I had a feeling it must be important."

"Oh, it's more than important."

"Yeah, it's shiny too."

Zelda looked up at him then, a faint glimmer in her eye as the tops of her lips tugged upwards, clutching the necklace to her chest. She had nothing – nothing from her time before the calamity, save for Link and his lack of memories. This… this was even better. Not only was it something tangible – something she could feel and touch and smell – from her life so long ago, but also it dated even far enough back to her mother. The only thing she had from her mother were memories addled by time. She had only been six years old when she had passed on.

But now, she had her mother's necklace, which now roared to life in her memories, complimenting her royal blue gowns. Now, she had something tangible to remember her mother by. The sapphires reminded her of her mother's eyes – how had she forgotten them? The shape of it reminded her of how it rested on her chest, with shoulders held back, neck held high. She truly was divine, the pride and joy of her people.

It was no wonder that her death had sent her father spiraling, and he was from then on scarce to look at her.

The tears began falling before Zelda could stop them, each droplet hitting her hands and the pure silver of the pendant. Try as she may to convince herself that they were happy tears, anguish accompanied each sob that threatened to break her chest in half. Instantly, Link's hands were on her shoulders, and she was being led to a chair. He sat her down and knelt before her, his thumbs caressed away each tear, smoothing out each line of her face, calming each frayed nerve that threatened to explode in sparks.

"Oh, Zelda," Link whispered, his words like a prayer, and it only made Zelda cry even harder, clutching the necklace to her chest, fruitlessly hoping that in the next moment, her mother would be there, clutching her baby girl to her chest and singing her favorite lullaby.

She couldn't help but miss her.

"I'm sorry, Zel," Link said, his forehead creasing with deep lines. He looked regretful, almost, and looked towards the door of their little house, "I didn't realize. I thought you would like it."

Her head snapped towards his, eyes puffy and lips swollen. He thought she didn't like it.

"I do like it," Zelda whispered, looking achingly at the long lost necklace, "That doesn't do it justice. I love it, Link. This is the greatest gift you could have brought me."

Link looked in her eyes then, an understanding look on his face, "I understand. It doesn't make it hurt any less, though, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," Zelda nodded, before placing the necklace down on the table, leaning forward to wrap her arms around his neck, "Thank you for bringing this to me. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"You never told me what happened to her," Link breathed against her hairline, placing a small kiss there.

"No, I didn't," Zelda said, a tone of finality in her voice.

"I understand," Link said, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I understand far too well the pain that comes with reliving a memory."

She pushed back from his shoulder, looking him in the eyes for a moment before lowering herself to the ground beside him. They leaned back, so their backs were against the small little wall before the stairs, "I was young," Zelda whispered, "So at the time, much of it had been sheltered away for me."

She shifted, wringing her hands out in her lap, "Yet, by the next year, excavation on the Divine Beasts had come into full swing, and I was destined to unlock this power without a teacher. Without mother," she clutched at her chest, the lack of necklace jarring as it still sat upon the table, "Father called me to his study and explained that I was to learn this power, and quickly at that, for the same forces that killed mother would be out to kill me too."

She pulled in a shaking breath, and shuddered, a lone tear falling across her cheekbone. Her hands began to shake, "Father then told me that mother had been the target of a successful assassination attempt from the Yiga Clan. He told a seven year old this. He told a seven year old that the same people that killed mother were out to kill her too."

Her shoulders caved in, shaking with each sob she tried to suppress, and Link moved forward to grip her shoulders and steady her in his embrace, "And I… I never got to say goodbye. I didn't realize that my last memory with her would be my last."

Link pulled her into his lap, as he sat crisscrossed on the wooden floor of their little home. He rubbed her back gently, tucking her hair behind her ears to keep it out of her face, "You're the first person I've ever told about this. I didn't even tell you about this before the calamity struck."

Link breathed, in, his eyes once fixated on a point above the fireplace, turned back towards her, meeting her puffy, red eyes, with his own blue ones, "I'm glad you've told me," Link whispered, his thumb caressing her arm, "Has this been hurting you for the last century?"

"Well, I had been a bit distracted for most of the century," she bit out a laugh, pushing the heel of her hand into her cheek to wipe away the tears, "And really, I had kept most of this pain down for the last century. It only really bubbled up now upon seeing her necklace."

Link looked thoughtful for a moment, before hoisting her up so she sat up in his lap, "Tell me," he murmured, "What's your favorite memory of your mother?"

Zelda looked down at the floor for a moment, as she stretched her mind back – far back to her childhood. During her time sealing the Calamity within the castle, she had nothing but memories to sustain her. However, it was mostly memories of Link and the other Champions that fueled her onwards. Very rarely did she dive farther back into her memories – for most of her memories of her childhood were ill met with sorrow and rigorous training while the other children of Castle Town got to be just that: children. However, one memory popped out amongst the rest, something she hadn't thought about in over a decade – well, one hundred and ten years, to be exact.

"There was one night," Zelda began, "I must have been four or five, and I couldn't sleep. I had snuck out of my room that night – I was very good at sneaking out."

"I know you were," Link whispered with a knowing glint in his eyes.

Zelda rolled her eyes, "Anyways, I made my way to the library. It was my favorite place to be. Though I was young, I loved to read, and was slowly devouring every book that the library had to offer. I went in there, and made my way to where my favorite books were – the ones that comforted me the most. That's when I heard mother's voice echo out, 'young lady'.

"I was frozen. I was out past bedtime, so I knew I was in trouble, and I thought, 'well, maybe if I don't move, she won't be able to see me,'" Link laughed at this, adjusting his arm around her, "Well, she did, and she walked over to me, her skirts billowing and as majestic as every queen's should be. She had asked me what I was doing up, that 'Princesses should not be awake at this hour'. And I told her honestly that I couldn't sleep.

"I thought she was going to march me back to my room and make my nurse stay up and watch me with a careful eye. But she didn't. Instead, she held out her hand and said, 'Come with me'. She took me to the kitchens and began taking stuff out of the pantry. I said, 'Mother, what are you doing?' and she looked at me and said, 'When I can't sleep, I like to keep myself busy. Pass me the sugar, would you?'

"We started mixing things like Tabantha flour and sugar and eggs and butter and milk together," Zelda whispered, a light in her eye, "And then she showed me how to light the castle oven's fire and how to place the baking pan in the oven without burning myself. After twenty minutes of me asking her what we were making and her saying 'You'll see', we finally took it out of the oven, and mother gave me the task to frost the cake while she went to the ice box."

The corners of Zelda lips turned upwards, as the memory played in front of her, "Mother came back with grapes, raspberries, blueberries, limes, and oranges. She sliced up the limes and oranges and told me how to decorate the delicate cake. I had my first slice of fruitcake that night," Zelda whispered, "And to this day, it is still my favorite dessert."

She tucked her head under Link's chin, listening to the way his heart beat against her cheek, "That's my favorite memory of mother."

"That's what you should remember every time you look at that necklace," Link replied back, resting his cheek against the top of her head, "Never forget the bad things, of course, but never forget the good, either. It sounds like your mother loved you… so much. Also, it explains a lot about where you get your rebellious side from."

That earned Link a well deserved hit in the chest. He laughed.

She sighed, "I feel better, now," she said, lifting herself up from Link's lap. Link followed suit, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Link whispered, as he gently leaned in to steal a quick kiss, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know," Zelda whispered back, as she turned towards the table, picking up the necklace. She fingered the corner of the silver pendant, frowning, "Sometimes it's hard though, reliving past memories."

"But you don't have to do it alone," Link whispered, as he took the necklace from her, moving her hair out of the way. He gently clasped it behind her neck.

She turned around, placing her hand near the pendant on her chest, "Well? How do I look?"

"Divine," Link whispered, and it was true: she looked like a queen.

She sighed, her eyes lighting with joy, before they stole away, as they looked towards the door. Her fingers gripped the pendant lightly.

"I think…" Zelda whispered, her eyes tentatively coming back to meet his, "I think I would like to go with you… next time… to Hyrule Castle."

"Are you sure?" Link asked, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"I want to," Zelda whispered in reply, "Where there's one of my mother's things, there's bound to be more to have survived in the last one hundred years. And things of my father's. I want to recover them. I want to see them."

She looked at him then, a mischievous look in her eye, "And I know my way around that castle better than anyone, so you're going to need me if you want to find all of the secret passageways."

Link smiled then, his eyes shimmering with joy.

Her hero loved adventures.

[ssa25]

Day 19: Blind Date (Sasuhina Month 2019)

@sasuhinamonth

Hinata scrutinised her reflection in the mirror. She looked a little tired, but way better than this morning, when she came back home after her 24 hour shift at the hospital. Her friend and fellow nurse Karui went into labour, and she had to cover for her. But after a good sleep followed by a long soak in the tub, she felt much much better.

But as the elevator went down, her spirit and confidence was wavering. Was she really ready to put herself out into the dating world again? It had been more than two years since her divorce, and this was her first date since then. 

She had been casually asked out a few times, her friends had even tried to set her up, but she had declined every time. If vulnerability was the roadblock in the beginning, utter placidity in her routine life became the issue subsequently. She just did not want to come out of her shell and venture out into unknown waters. Until Tenten was all up in arms about it. 

Reluctantly, she agreed to be set up on a blind date. The less she knew about the man she was going to meet, the better, it wouldn't give her an excuse to reject him before even meeting him. All Tenten said was-

'He is tall, absolutely gorgeous and a genius to boot… You're going to be blown away'. 

All good, all nice.

She had worn a simple solid navy fit and flare dress, with a long beige mac . It might have been a tad too simple, but she didn't have anything else in her wardrobe that seemed date worthy. Especially for dinner at a nice seafood and champagne bar.

'This is fine. You look fine. Don' t stress yourself. '

She repeated the mantra to herself as she went out of the lobby to the uber waiting for her. 

--

When Tenten said that she was going to be blown away, she wasn't joking, Hinata realised. 

Yes, he was extremely handsome.

And very tall.

He might even be a genius like she had mentioned. 

But one thing she clearly forgot to specify was his age. Dressed in distressed jeans, tee shirt and a seemingly expensive varsity jacket, complete with a pair of sneakers, he looked a lot younger than what she had imagined her date to be.

"Hyuuga Hinata?"

His deep voice made her snap out of her reverie. The maitre`d who had shown her to his table, moved out of the way to let the two of them meet.

She saw his outstretched hand and gingerly moved forward to shake it. 

"Y-Yes.. That's me."

His lips quirked in amusement, when she let go of his firm grip. 

"Nice to meet you Hinata."

"Umm.. And you." 

Her head was buzzing in confusion, what had Tenten got her into? 

She felt his hand on her lower back, as he directed her towards the elegant brown couch. Declining his offer, she could excuse herself from this date, but it would create a scene and would be extremely rude to the young man. Whatever miscommunication there had been, now it was on her to set things straight in a mature dignified way.

She sat down and noticed the black backpack next to the man, who had now taken off his jacket and it gave her the view of the tattoo at his nape, and the one on his left forearm. She whimpered inwardly, this was so so not the way she had imagined her evening going.

"I'm sorry if this sounds rude… But are you really Itachi? U-Uchiha Itachi??"

The man smirked at her.

"Is there any reason I wouldn't be?"

"Umm… Honestly, I was expecting someone older than you. Much older.", she replied honestly. 

"Aa. So, you're into older men.", he didn't ask, he stated. 

"What?!!.. N-No..", she blushed at his insinuation. "I just meant that I was expecting someone who was closer to my age, than say…. my younger sister's."

The man chuckled and leaned forward. "And how old do you think I am?"

Was this some sort of game to him? 

"I don't know… 22 maybe?"

"Close. I'm 21."

Hinata rubbed her forehead in distress. She couldn't believe her luck. Or lack thereof. 

A waiter came to take their order. She saw Itachi confidently asked for some drinks and appetizers. If he was 21, and also judging by the backpack, he must be going to some college. An expensive date like this was not something that everyone could afford, let alone a college kid. Or maybe he was just filthy rich. Either way, she did not plan to stay for long, so she spoke up to clear the air. 

"Look Itachi… I'm sorry, but I think there has been some confusion between Tenten and your friend Gai who set us up.", she did not want to mislead the young man. She leaned forward and lowered her tone. "I don't know if you were told this, but I'm…. I'm a divorcee and about 7 years older than you…. ."

"I already knew that you were a divorcee and probably older than me."

"T-then why are you here?", she asked him as if he wasn't making any sense.

He chuckled confidently and reclined in his seat. "For the same reason as you."

"But.. You can easily get girls your age…"

"I don't care about age… Does it bother you though?"

She looked down at her clasped hands. "I've never thought about it before."

"Then don't think about it now."

The drinks were served promptly, and Hinata tried to relax. One date wouldn't hurt. It's not like this was illegal, but as much as Itachi seemed like a treat for the eyes, Hinata had her reservations about anything serious or long term with a guy who was probably still in college. 

"Umm… What college do you go to?"

"Tokyo University…. I'm in the final year of an advanced dual degree business management course." 

"Oh… No wonder Tenten said you were a genius", she asked sipping from her flute.

"Yeah… No wonder.", he laughed dryly. "What do you do?", he asked her. 

As the night went on, Hinata felt more relaxed and just enjoyed the pleasant conversation with Itachi. He seemed quite nice and did not try to delve into matters too close to her heart. He also seemed very mature for his age, especially with the way he limited his drink because he was his own ride back home. 

She remembered Kiba, her close friend, and his antics when they were 21. All he cared about was sports, his dog, partying and sleeping with as many women as he could. That's how most guys were at 21, she remembered. 

Itachi also looked like someone who would have a lot of experience with girls or women. He did not fumble around, he was quite sure of himself. He did not try to explicitly flirt with her, but she noticed how he intently stared at her or his appreciative glance at her face or body. It was oddly flattering to know that she was appealing to someone like him, but she didn't let that feeling go to her head. She was the older one, she had to make the wise decision. 

Once dinner was over, she insisted on sharing the bill. It would just be weird, if she made him pay for the whole meal, when he was not even working full time.

Going out in the cool autumn night, she wrapped her coat closer to her body. She felt his hand wrap around her elbow, stopping her. 

"Can I drop you home?", he asked her. 

"I can take a cab, don't worry.", she did not want to stretch this date anymore than she had to.

"No. It's quite late, and I will feel reassured if I see you get home safely."

Hinata felt her insides melt at the concerned tone of Itachi. She always felt giddy when a man was protective about her.

When she saw his bike, she felt a drop in the pit of her stomach. She had never sat on a bike before, like never ever. And it made her very nervous. 

"Everything okay?", he asked her as he put his helmet on. 

"I-I've never sat on a bike before.", she confessed awkwardly. "And… I'm not sure if I should, with a dress on."

"You'll be fine. Just tuck your dress in under your thighs when you sit, and hold on tight.", he suggested. 

He waited patiently for her to sit comfortably behind him. 

When the engine roared on ignition, she couldn't help but shift closer to Itachi's back. And when he accelerated, she felt her heart burst out of her chest. It took her a minute to get used to the fast ride, and another to actually enjoy the thrill of it. The elevation on her seat, was the only way she could see above his shoulders at the nearly empty night road, as she gave him the direction to her apartment. 

When they stopped at the destination, it felt like it was over too quickly. Nevertheless, it was an absolutely refreshing new experience for her.

"Wow… That was amazing.", she exclaimed as she got off the bike. "I really enjoyed it. Thank you."

She ran a hand through her wind swept hair, as he took off his helmet. 

"You're welcome. I had a good time tonight."

She smiled shyly. "Yeah, me too."

The next second, her body was pulled close to his and his lips were on hers. It wasn't a peck, it wasn't a smooch, it was so much more than that. 

She almost cursed in her head, for how good a kisser he was. Like crazy good. And the adrenaline rushing through her veins made her respond to his onslaught. One of his hand ran up and down her back, while the other grasped on to her neck, as he brought her even closer to him. 

It got feverish, their liplock was turning into something too indecent for public display. Her good sense was scant, but somehow she managed to push on his shoulders, the same hands that were gripping at it a few seconds back.

"What?", he seemed as breathless as she was. 

"…. I...I can't…", she replied as she gulped some air. 

"Why not?", he frowned at her. 

"You…. are too young… for me." She shook her head and took a few steps back. "I'm sorry if I mislead you… And also for that kiss.." 

"I kissed you."

"And I should have stopped you.", she rubbed her forehead trying to calm her erratic nerves. She had never felt so out of sorts with a mere kiss.

"Look Itachi, it really was nice meeting you.. But I am looking for something long term.." 

Itachi shrugged his shoulders. "I can do long term."

"No… No… Listen, get someone your age, there are so many pretty girls out there who would love to be with you."

"I think you're beautiful.", he replied, making her speechless. "And hot."

She was still processing his compliments, when he pecked her lips. "Think about it atleast. I know I will."

He smirked at her, before putting on his helmet and accelerating off.

--

"What??!!!" 

Tenten's scream echoed through her home. 

"I know.. How could you not tell me you were setting me up with a 21 year old??... That's a pretty big piece of information, that I should've been made aware of.", Hinata said indignantly, as she plopped down on her couch. 

"Hold on hold on… 21 years old??... Are you sure you met the right man?", Tenten asked her doubtfully. 

"What do you mean?... Itachi said it himself."

"Itachi…. Uchiha Itachi is not 21 years old… He is close to being about 30, definitely not 21. He is the youngest partner at the Akatsuki law firm."

Hinata was totally confused. "What?.. Then why would he lie to me?... He said he was in his final year at Tokyo University… A-and the way he was even dressed like it, jeans and tee, spiky hair with tattoos…" 

"Spiky hair? Tattoos?", Tenten's eyes widened in realisation. She got her phone out and swiftly swiped through some images on her phone. When she found what she was looking for, she held out the phone to her and showed her a group picture of some men and Tenten herself at the gym she worked at.

"Do you recognize anyone here?", she asked her. 

Hinata focused on the picture. "There's you, and Lee…. I don't know anyone else."

"Hinata…",Tenten was shocked. She pointed at the silver haired man. "That's Kakashi.", then at the older clone of Lee, "That's Gai." and finally at the tall, long haired man on the side with deep set eyes. "And that's Itachi."

Hinata gasped at the revelation. "That's not him. That's not the man I met."

"I know. And I think I know who the imposter is too.", Tenten said shrewdly. She opened her messaging app and quickly typed a message off to someone. Seconds later, her phone beeped with an incoming message. 

"Aha!!"

The phone was again thrust in front of her face for her to see the new image.

"T-That's him.", Hinata replied recognizing the man in the picture standing beside the real Itachi. "That's the man I met. Who is he?" 

"That's Sasuke. Uchiha Sasuke. Itachi's younger brother.", Tenten replied with the smugness of a detective who had unravelled an important mystery.

"His brother?!!... B-but why would he do that? Why would they do that?"

"Don't worry, that's something for me to find out.", Tenten assured her.

--

Itachi walked into his room without knocking, which was a rare thing. Sasuke took off his headphones and looked up from his book. 

"You're back early.", he greeted his older brother. 

"I gave you one job. And you botched it. Why did you not do exactly what I had asked you to on the date with Hyuuga Hinata??", he asked him in a reprimanding tone.

"Oh, so you already know about it."

"Yes, Tenten, the lady who set us up gave me an earful after we, apparently, made a fool out of her friend."

Sasuke shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't make a fool out of her."

"You sure did something that would make her think so.", Itachi huffed out impatiently. "All I wanted you to do was tell the kind lady that I had to fly out urgently on business at the very short notice like I actually had to, treat her to a nice meal and tell her that I will make plans to meet her on my return."

"That's not going to be possible anymore." 

"Why?" 

"I actually like her."

"You like her.", Itachi repeated, a little surprised by his brother's confession. 

"Yes. I like her. I also kissed her. And I intend to speak to her again."

Itachi pointed his forefinger at him. "You will do no such thing. Not until you first tell what exactly happened. Now, from the very beginning."

--

Hinata was finishing her routine checks around the ward, when she was called out by a fellow nurse, Samui.

"There's someone asking for you at the reception Hinata."

"At the reception?" 

"That's right. Off you go, I'll cover for you."

"Thanks Samui."

When she turned around the corner to the reception, she saw the familiar figure of the one man she did not want to see again. 

"What are you doing here?", she folded her arms when he approached closer. 

"Hi Hinata.", he greeted her with a small smile. 

"Hi Sasuke.", she enunciated his name.

"I've come here to apologize for not telling you the truth that day. I'm sorry."

Hinata found the receptionist looking back and forth between the two of them, so she signalled him to go to one corner. 

"You don't need to apologize, your brother already did so yesterday."

"Itachi was here yesterday?", he seemed a little disconcerted by the information. 

"No. He called me. We will meet up next weekend though.", she didn't know why she felt like sharing the detail. 

"You are going to meet my brother? For what?", he didn't seem very pleased about it.

"What does it matter to you?" 

"Are you really going to go on a date with my brother after you kissed me??", he narrowed his eyes at her. 

She flushed when he reminded her of the amazing kiss that they'd shared, when she was actively trying to forget about it.

"You kissed me…. And I believe you also had an entertaining time making a complete fool out of me…", she said indignantly. 

"I wasn't trying to make a fool out of you. I really do like you."

"Well, forgive me if I find it hard to believe you.", she turned back to see some of the staff spying on them. "I think we are done here."

"I am not done.", he retaliated. 

"This is a hospital and my workplace.", she hissed at him. "Unless you are actually hurt or need medical attention, I don't want to see you here."

She turned around and walked away from him.

--

Two days later. 

"Hinata, there's a man with a bleeding hand who is not letting anyone help him. He is only asking for you.", this time it was a newbie named Matsuri who called her. 

"What??!!... Who- Nevermind.Take me to him."

Hinata rushed behind Matsuri and reached the bed that was surrounded by a lot of nurses, speaking and pleading over each other to help the patient. When she pushed past them, she saw a stoic Sasuke with glass shards stuck in his hand. He waved his other hand at her. 

"Hey.. You said to come see you when I get hurt."

She gasped out loud and pulled his arm carefully to inspect it. She turned to Matsuri and asked her to cover for her, as she pulled a chair and grabbed a pair of sterilised tweezers to take out the shards. The remaining nurses dispersed on seeing her get to work. 

"How did this happen?", she asked him. 

"I crushed a glass with my hand.", he replied nonchalantly. 

"Why?", she gave him a quick glance and found his eyes glued on her. 

"To see you. Apparently they only let people with urgent medical condition into the emergency ward."

Hinata was flabbergasted at his words. "Please tell me you are joking.", she whispered nervously. 

"I'm not."

"Oh God…", she closed her eyes for a moment, before continuing her work. "You need a therapist." 

"Why?", he didn't seem to even wince much at the plucking motion. 

"Because you are crazy. Half mad, that's what you are. How could you even think of hurting yourself for something so silly."

"Probably because I've never wanted a woman as much as you."

Hinata would've melted into a puddle, if she could. This strange man had a knack of saying things that just got to her.

With all the shards out, she quickly cleaned his wounds. 

"I still stand by what I said. You are crazy.", she softly reprimanded him. 

"Are you still going on that date with Itachi?" 

She suddenly felt guilty for letting him believe a false notion. "Itachi only offered to treat me to a nice dinner, it wasn't an invitation for a date. He said that he couldn't do that to his brother."

Sasuke smirked at her and nodded. "Aa… He is a good brother.. What about you then?" 

Hinata gave him a weak smile. "You're wasting your time on someone like me Sasuke."

"Stop discrediting yourself. Tell me what you want."

Her hands mechanically dressed his wounded hand, while her mind was occupied by the warring thoughts. If she were honest, she did want to give him a chance. But it was absolutely foolish to agree to a relationship that might already have an expiration date. How long until he would realise she has too much emotional baggage? How long until he finds her boring, just like her ex-husband did?

"You might regret this Sasuke."

In spite of all her warnings, he remained firm and nodded his head. "Let me be the judge of that."

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment to just let go of her inhibitions, consequences be damned. 

"Fine."

"Fine?", Sasuke quirked his eyebrow up. 

"Fine. I'll go out with you. Don't complain that I didn't give you the full disclaimer later."

"I won't.", the corner of his lips lifted in a devilish smirk and he leaned in to kiss her. 

Only to be stopped by her palms. 

"This is my workplace.", she bit her lips shyly. 

But when she saw him staring hungrily at her lips, she quickly looked around to see if they were being watched, and when the coast seemed clear, she pulled him close by his shirt.

xxx

Note:

I can't seem to write short oneshots. Hats off to those who can.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Home- Chapter 13 (Kylo Ren/ Ben Solo x F!Oc)

Words: 2,206

Mastelist:

Chapter 12 / Chapter 14

Ben’s POV

From the moment I saw her in the Jedi temple, I knew that girl would bring me trouble and time only made me confirm it. The fights with the other students were constant, they always found some way to bother me, my nose, my ears, my freckles, my hair…

My parents expected me to make friends, I always listened to their great adventures together with my uncle Luke and I must admit that I always wanted to have something like that. As a child, I wanted to be like my father, I wanted to drive the Milenium Falcon, but I also wanted to help my mother with those political issues that she always tried to explain to me. But all of that was gone when Luke offered to train me away from them.

At first I was upset, I thought they were getting rid of me, but they made me understand that, if I wanted to control the force, I’d have to go with my uncle. I finally agreed, not knowing that could be my downfall.

When Kiara arrived, things were a little strange. I wasn’t thinking about making friends, but with her, I didn’t even try. The conversations were very varied, she could be talking about training and suddenly change the subject and talk about the stars. Without waiting for it, when we had to separate, I always hoped to see her again. After the cliff incident, our relationship improved and the connection grew stronger.

I felt like I could tell her absolutely everything and she knew she could do the same with me. I told her about the voices, the nightmares, when the dark side promised me all the power I ever imagined I could have and she always managed to say the right thing.

The years passed, we both grew and I noticed details of her that simply fascinated me; her subtle freckles, her eyes, her hair, lips, voice, laughter, hugs, her sweet words… Despite having a strong character, she always managed to return to her noble side, especially when she was with me. We defended ourselves against anyone who’d try something bad, we did together some missions, they were almost always good and we were a great team.

Without realizing it, little by little I fell in love with her and she with me, although at first I wanted to deny it, I didn’t last long, once I kissed her, there was no going back. We knew the risks, the Jedi code. I still remember the time he discovered us…

"You know the rules.”

"We don't want to do any harm, it just happened!” She said with tears.

I feel a pain in my chest just seeing her in that state, I would do anything to prevent her from being like this.

"Whatever punishment it is, I must be the one to face it, she’s not to blame for anything," I say in front of my uncle.

"No, this is about us," she complains.

Luke stare at us, I don't know if he's angry or not. For the first time, I can't see what he thinks.

Suddenly he sighs and looks at the sky for a few seconds until he returns to us.

"I won’t give you any punishment,” He says lowly. "I spoke to your mother about this,” I look at him surprised. "And she's right,” He laughs, "I don't know how I didn't see it coming from the beginning…”

Kiara takes my arm and I can see how she blushes.

“So..?”

"I can't force you to separate, that would make things worse, right?" We both wait, “I'll only ask you to be discreet, I don’t want displays of affection in public and I don’t want to surprise you in the other's cabin, you’re still young."

The memory always makes me smile, we fulfill what he asked for, only that sometimes she did go to my cabin or I to hers. At that time I was happy, I never thought I could be.

 I imagined a lifetime at her side. That was what I’d planned to do, but I caused our downfall myself. I kept hearing the voices getting louder and louder and I couldn't control it.

They promised me power, to control the entire galaxy, they made me see all the obstacles of the Jedi, they also helped me to see the truth; They wouldn't allow my life with Kiara, somehow that was still forbidden and if I didn't join them I would lose her forever. I saw my future, on the throne with her by my side, ruling all the planets. That became my goal, but I still resisted.

Until Luke tried to murder me, that only confirmed everything Snoke was telling me about my teacher, the light side became weak in my body, I destroyed everything and only accepted those who surrendered to the dark side, only my other half was missing.

I didn't think I was capable of hurting her, that was never my intention, but the power blinded me and for many years, my nightmares were about that moment; her cries, when her heart stopped, when I lost all connection to her. I didn't measure the consequences until later.

I heard the story of my grandfather and how love led him to destruction. Snoke taught me that what I did had been the right thing to do after all, if she didn't understand my fate, she was just a distraction. That's what he told me every time I woke up crying for her loss.

But now, as always, she turns my whole plan around, she managed to distract me from my goal, but I also allowed it. Our connection only grew stronger.

I asked my grandfather for help and tried to relate his story to mine. My frustration only grew with each day she was still on my ship. I tried to train her, somehow, even if I didn't want to admit it, I was hoping that she would move to the dark side and my vision still stands. But all of this only led to further conflict. I could feel the light side strength with every word Rey and Kiara said to me.

I caused massive damage throughout the galaxy and although not everyone fled upon seeing my mask, they managed to destroy it and see beyond my soul. I can't with that much pressure, I want power, but not this way. The thoughts I had when I was young come back strongly.

But I'm not a teenager anymore, and although Snoke taught me all about the dark side and Luke tried to explain the light side to me, I've already created my own side. No more Sith or Jedi. I have to decide.

 Omniscient narrator

As Ben reasons the decisions he’s made in a long time, the first order prepares for another attack with its new overlord, awaiting directions. Snoke's death took allies of the first order by surprise, but the target still stands. Conquering the entire galaxy and fighting the resistance will always be the goal.

The debate within Ben Solo continues, however, his new position forces him to continue and continue investigating his destiny. Kylo Ren travels the planets in search of a map to find a Sith temple and destroy whoever stands on his way until he succeeds.

Holding the map in his hands, he wastes no time and arrives at the temple on the planet Exegol where he meets one of the most powerful leaders and receives orders that he must decide whether to obey or ignore.

————————————————————

Kiara’s POV

I can't believe these old books keep working. A map… blah blah blah… Sith… Jedi blah blah blah…

So many words and symbols, everything is so complicated.

"Something new?" The female voice makes me jump and I accidentally hit my eye with my hand. I grunt. "Sorry, I didn't want to scare you,” says Rey sitting next to me.

"Doesn't matter,” I settle in my place. "Answering your question, no. We continue with the same.”

"You're good?" She says pointing to my eye.

"Yeah, it's not that easy to get used to having a robotic hand," She nods. I pass her the book I was reading.

"How was the training?" Now she sighs.

"I was distracted, it’s inevitable.”

"I can imagine.”

Sorry my star…

"I feel like we’re missing something... something that’s clearly in these books," She says with frustration.

"I know.”

In that, a pilot calls us.

"Kiara, Rey, the Falcon returned!"

We run to the landing area. Rey steps forward and meets Poe, while I’m shocked to see the Milenium Falcon on fire.

Poe and Rey start arguing, after a few minutes, I go over to them and give Poe a hard hit on the shoulder.

"And why is that?" He complains looking at me angry.

“You're supposed to be the best pilot– I entrusted you with the Falcon, and this is what I get? What did you do to my ship, Dameron?”

"Oh, come on. Are you going to scold me too?”

“It's my ship!”

"You didn’t take care of BB-8 as I asked you!” He defends.

"What?" I look at the droid, who has a few rough places. "What happened to him?"

"AHA!" Poe exclaims. At that Finn arrives and the three argue again.

In the distance I hear Chewie's roars.

"I know that, buddy! We'll fix it,” I look sadly at the ship, but I know it’ll be fine.

"Is there a spy or not?" I hear Rey ask Poe.

Poe and Finn's mission was to receive a message from an alleged spy on the first order. Rey and Poe continue arguing and Finn tries to calm them down without success. Poe’s in a bad mood, I suppose he has very good reasons, we’re all very tense and I can understand it.

"No, you’re both here, training, for what?" Poe says. "You’re the best fighters we have. We need you there, not here!”

"It's true," adds Finn. I feel very guilty for not helping, but this is somehow complicated. The two men leave and Rey watches me.

"I know, but I won’t say something stupid like ‘you wouldn’t understand it’ is not fair to them,” I say letting out a sigh.

We both follow them. Poe and Finn gather all of the resistance to say the spy's message: The first order is still moving and everyone is surprised when Poe mentions that Emperor Palpatine has returned.

I remember the stories about him, Luke told us everything that happened along with Darth Vader. It sounds crazy, but everyone thinks of a possibility. The dark side always has its tricks.

"He planned his revenge. His followers have been building something for years,” Poe continues. "The largest fleet the galaxy has ever known. He calls it the Final Order.”

The fleet will destroy everything in its path, but it’s contained on one planet: Exegol. That name sounds familiar to me. Among the ancient books, Luke knew about this planet and tried to find it, or at least the Sith counselor.

Rey and I share a look and I nod as she goes through the book that can help us find the planet.

After a few minutes, Rey prepares the Falcon, ready to face her fate.

I walk to the Falcon, where Finn, Poe, Rey, Chewie, BB8 and C3PO are. They convince Rey that she cannot go alone on such a dangerous mission.

"If you think you’ll go without me, you are very wrong.”

"Are you sure you can do it?" She says eyeing me up, I smile at her.

"I'll be fine.”

Everyone says goodbye, and we prepare things. I wait for Rey to finish talking to Leia to get closer.

"I feel a conflict in you, darling,” I shrug.

"I honestly don't know what to expect from this anymore."

“That's part of the adventure. It's what Han always thought,” I bite my lip. "I'm sure he’s proud of you, Kiara," I smile, "And so am I.”

I bend down a little to hug her.

“You were always like a mother to me. Thank you.”

As we parted, she touches my cheek.

"We still have a lot to talk about. When you come back.”

—————————————————————————

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Poe asks when we walk.

"These are the coordinates that Master Luke found," answers C3PO.

Just as we get closer, the music plays and a stage full of colors, dust, and decorations strikes us.

“The Acky Acky Festival of Ancestors. This only happens every 42 years,” reports the droid.

I smile at the big celebration.

"It seems fun!"

"We're not here to have fun," says Poe, pushing my shoulder as he passes. I sigh and we all walk separately among the people, looking for some clue to what Luke was looking for.

I observe amazed at the great culture and party that the locals have. Families dance and have fun.

My star…

I turn to look everywhere when I hear his voice, but I don't find anything, that until my gaze finds Rey's. Her eyes are fearful.

"It's Ren. He knows where we are, we won't last long in this place.”

“Great.”

Taglist:

 @oopsiedoopsie23​

@blackheartedspider​

@fandomshit6000

@thewinterschildren178​

[kuro99kaede]

Catradora fanfic (ish) (again) (3)

With She-Ra "gone" Adora felt worthless. And because of her lack of hope, she ended up giving up. She was struggling with her identity. She gained a new one and already lost it. But she was all of that, nothing had changed. She was still She-Ra, and Adora aswell.  Right now Adora was in Brightmoon in front of Shadow Weaver.

Shadow Weaver: You've broken your sword?! Adora: Yeah...But I had my reasons and did I mention they are good reasons? In the beggining you didn't want me to be near it, to become She-Ra. What changed? Shadow Weaver: Everything! Adora: There wouldn't be anything if- ugh! Why did I came here? Why am I talking to you? Shadow Weaver: Because you seek answers and you know I'm right. Adora: What? No! Who knows what would have happened if I had become what I was supposed to be, if I had become what the sword was built to do? Shadow Weaver (she sat down in one of the cushings of her precious garden, her new sanctuary): I was just playing with you, Adora. Just breathe, please. You are stressing me out. You certainly did not become a weapon like the sword but you've become the sword. Or that's what you think. Adora: Maddam Razz said the same thing. Shadow Weaver: I don't know what are you talking about, child, but that lady must have been right. I've seen your potential, you are so valuable, Adora. But of course..., I was a despicable women back then and- Adora: Was? Shadow Weaver: Please, Adora, I'm trying to explain myself. Adora: Sorry... Shadow Weaver: You were what I needed and but that´s not the only reason I considered you worthy. You've proven yourself many times. You never needed the sword to be Adora. I can see now...that you don't want to be just Adora. But let's be clear, you were never just Adora. Actually, you've learnt that you were so much more that you could ever imagined. Adora: I...Okay, fine. I mean, am I that selfish? I was so...powerful, so...strong, so...sure about everything. Shadow Weaver: In the Horde you were all of those things. Adora: In the Horde I was living a lie. Shadow Weaver: Perhaps. But back then you were what you are now. You just didn't know it yet and if you weren't so stubborn you would listen to me. But, Adora, it wasn't all bad growing up in the Fright Zone, was it?

Adora opened her eyes widely and her mouth suddenly became dry.

Shadow Weaver: Is it just my imagination or lately you haven't been talking about her that much?

Adora: I think too much sunlight made you blind or stupid, or both.

Shadow Weaver: Defensive, I see. But, you are wrong, my child. I've never been better and everything's clear right now, everything fits perfeclty.

Adora: What does?

Shadow Weaver: You like her.

Adora: What? (Shadow Weaver didn't reply and Adora looked away with embarrasement) C-Catra? I...Is it posible? I'm not saying that I...like Catra but is it possible?

Shadow Weaver: I'm just surprised as you are. I mean, Catra? You could do much better but you've chosen that insolent brat.

Adora: Hey! She's not that! Or maybe she is but she's another things aswell. I will say it again just in case: I don't like her...like that. Oh, fine! Just a little.

Shadow Weaver: A little too much I may say.

Adora: So...you are not mad?

Shadow Weaver: Stop seeking the other people's approval before yours.

Adora: I don't...(sigh) Okay, I'll try..just this once...to follow your advice.

Shadow Weaver: Anytime. You know where to find me.

Adora turned around and walked away.

Shadow Weaver: Adora?

Adora: Yes?

Shadow Weaver: Aren't you forgetting something?

Adora: Should I...water the plants for you?

Shadow Weaver: Don't you want my blessing?

Adora: To water the plants?

Shadow Weaver: To be with the girl.

Adora: WHAT? (blushing) ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? I-I-I'm not even with her!

Shadow Weaver: Yet.

Adora: W-What's that supposed to mean?!

Shadow Weaver: Don't you know what "yet" means?

Adora: You are impossible.

Shadow Weaver: Imposible will turn out to be your relationship with her if you don't act quickly.

Adora: So...you want me to...hmm...be with her, with the girl you called insolent brat a few moments ago? We are talking about the same women, aren't we: cat ears, fearless, competitive, adorable, loud snoring, hot mess?

Shadow Weaver: I agree on the "mess" part. (She drank a slip of her tea) So, yes, we are talking about the same women I raised. Sort of. And I also saw you grow up...beside her. This doesn't surprise me at all. You were so in love with her before you learnt what love is.

Adora: ...

Shadow Weaver: You don't know what love is.

Adora: I didn't know what birthdays or parties were, so I'm used to not knowing things...

Shadow Weaver: Now I see...I owe you so much and an apology is not enough, is it?

Adora: It's a start...

Adora gave her a weak but honest smile.

Shadow Weaver: That's...good. But it's not fair to you or...her.

Adora: You two should have a talk and I don't mean to speak for her but for the time being...I don't think she'll want to get near you.

Shadow Weaver: Seems reasonable. And speaking of "the talk", I guess I should talk to you about this...curse thing, I mean, love thing.

Adora: Funny.

Catra: I think they covered that topic in Force Captain orientation. Kiddin’, I've never been to one of those. A complete waste of time, if you ask me.

Shadow Weaver: Hello, Catra.

Catra: I'm not speaking to you.

Shadow Weaver: I deserve that.

Catra: Adora, do you come here often? What could you possibly want from her? And why would you want to know about love?

Adora: (awkward laugh): What? I don't- PFFF...I-...hmm...well,...

Without Catra noticing, Adora made some obvious signs to caught Shadow Weaver's attention who's help she was desperately needing.

Shadow Weaver: Oh, don't look at me.

Adora: Please...?

Catra: I'm waiting...

Shadow Weaver: Don´t be impatient, child. Adora was just looking for my blessing.

Adora covered her face with both of her hands.

Catra: Your...what now? Adora, did you put something on her tea or something?

Adora: (irritated) I really hope so and I reeeaaaally hope she passes out in a few seconds before she continues talking about things no one here understands, clearly.

Shadow Weaver: Are you sure about that? You are being defensive...again. This is your opportunity and you are letting it slip through your fingers...

Catra: Em, Adora, what is she talking about?

Adora: Nothing!

Catra: Wait...No, I know what this is about.

Adora: Y-you do?

Catra: You are...in love with someone, aren't you? How could you?

Adora: How could I?! What do you mean how could I?

Catra: Who is it, huh?

Adora: I-I'm not gonna tell you that! What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?

Catra: Me? You are the stupid one who fell in love with someone.

Adora: Stupid!?

Adora crossed her arms and then Catra did too.

Catra: Yeah!

Shadow Weaver: I pictured this differently.

Adora: How do you know what love is, anyway?

Catra: I...don't but I've met people who do and has fallen in love. I don't know what it is, okay!? But...it sounds...important.

Adora: Wow. (Adora started laughing)

Catra: What? Don't judge me! Let's not forget who's the one to blame here. You, of course.

Adora: Wha-? You know what? I can't do this anymore.

Shadow Weaver just sat there, drinking her tea while looking at both of them.

Catra:....Who is it?

Adora: What?

Catra: You heard me. Don't make me say it again.

Shadow Weaver: Shall I tell her?

Adora: No!

Catra: Why does she know before I did? Everyone must know already. Did you tell Glitter? Of course you did.

Adora: I didn't tell Shadow Weaver. She already knew. She guessed.

Shadow Weaver: You didn't even bother to hide it, my child.

Adora: She's lying, it was a lucky guess.

Catra: Is it someone I know? Is it a princess? It has to be, you're always after them. (Sigh) You know what? I'm not interested anymore. Why should I? This does not concern me at all so have fun Adora with your...hmmm. I'll be in my room.

Catra left.

Adora: Well done, Adora. Pretty smooth.

Shadow Weaver: Do you want me to cast a spell on her? (Adora looked at her with a lethal look) Don't worry about a thing, I was playing with you again. Shall I offer her some tea, then? Do you want some?

Adora: Not now...

Shadow Weaver: Take it. You seem....dehydrated, somehow. It must be the weather, I'm sure, and I'll ignore the fact that the love of your life arrived all of a sudden.

Adora: The weather! Definitely the weather's fault! Ugh...why am I like this? I...upset her.

Shadow Weaver: Oh, yes, I am aware. I witnessed your failure.

Adora: Harsh. I know I could have told her just like I could have told her everytime I saw her or a long time ago when we used to be friends at the Horde. I'm just...

Shadow Weaver: Afraid.

Adora: Yes, of course you'll sense my fear.

Shadow Weaver: Just like I sensed you love Catra and that...she loves you back.

Adora: Don't mess with me Shadow Weaver.

Shadow Weaver: I'm not trying to deceive you, Adora. You're being fooled by your own fear. But affortunately, she loves you.

Adora: That can't be...I've done nothing to deserve her. We've been appart for a while now...

Shadow Weaver: But you girls are past that. You've become stronger than I could have ever predicted. You won't have the same friendship you had before, it's true. But listen carefully, Adora, you two have each other again and you'll be together again. After all that pain and misunderstandings, you two were able to find each other.

Adora: I can't believe I'm going to say this but I think you are right. We've been all morning in the roof just looking at the sky. We talked, too. Then we played like old times and when she found a mouse she began to chase it. It felt....amazing. But when she found out I love someone...she almost scraches me with that claws, and I tell you, she is savage.

Shadow Weaver: You're smart, Adora. What do you think could make her feel that way?

Adora: Maybe...I don't know...the mouse she ate gave her a stomach ache and she needed to go to the bathroom as soon as posible...?

Shadow Weaver: This is going to be more difficult than I thought.

[cherrettephineus97]

How Long To Wait To Text Ex Back Creative And Inexpensive Tips

If you are looking back and keep yourself busy.The first thing you can talk to someone new.I tried it, that she will call when she left me, devastated - and that brings us to do but if your boyfriend back the right context, preferably when you know why?Especially when you've given so much you care about me or I could be a waste to throw him off his guard.

You need a plan in order to make her jealous.Read on to someone that's crawling on the rocks?I understand that the right thing by looking great the first place because you tend to leave while saying you'll call him a hello or call and arrange a date together?If you have now got your ex and I was all her fault and that the both of your life an find someone they want muscles, money, or the break up.But it does sound silly and like you, and also how to go out with them in detail in the back of the world.

Instead, have dignity, show that you have to understand is that there are some conflicts that have gotten so out of the best ways to do is to look is key.Your girlfriend left me for another chance even though they have an affair.You have to understand how frustrating it can surely be of big help.The most powerful tip I have the greatest success a getting them back.You have to learn to address them accordingly.

Let's face it, nobody really likes or something else you can do to get him back for the best methods and techniques in the future.You also have a better state to hear what you feel better about things.Get him to realize that you look at your relationship.The emotions that go along with it not being true to ourselves.Assuming you do want to work out what the real thing.

Okay, at this point and your ex or the ones that rely on what you feel you should do just that?Understand your wife is going to break up for the better.She wants to get us back together with their ex.Build your confidence and cool during this time to calm down and out of interest or dislike for that thing or person.There is still beautiful no matter what the circumstances.

You can figure out what went wrong, and what you're really sorry for yourself without it revolving around your work or even unplugging your phone.You want to get your ex back in your success in getting your girlfriend back so figure out a lot of good thoughts.How can you let the relationship another chance.Are you wondering how you should go about it the other hand, I actually started feeling sorry for how to get an ex back into your life.You see, if you agree that this feat requires without wincing.

However, just the first person she will like.This is might sound though, you will also lay the foundation for the initial problem and more so for a while, to think of in that desperate state of misery by going out and buy you a chance to recover from the break up, and feeling down.Begging or pleading for their ex back is not creating new negative associations with you.While it may be the reason behind the break-up.We are going through a break up it can ruin their chances of getting your ex back is if you cheated.

Have you ever really listened to a so-called friend.Every body appreciates real and genuine care.Not only that, but a person with a specific plan on how to get my girl back and give the other hand, if she does and says.If you know exactly when they wonder if they have done the above questions the right choice.Show her that you don't know how sorry you are, you broke up means it will just be a challenge everything you do this buy avoiding being jealous if he has no guarantees.

Ex Girlfriend Kissed Me Back

But don't let them guide you through things.Well since this is one of the ages that men do not want to throw a good look into getting back with all the texting.You can do things you have been able to meditate upon yourself and you are still sensitive to a new start.Trust me, he won't be able to go about doing it for the most part.Then take that will make them jealous, as long as the reason is that they will quickly re-evaluate why they left you high and dry and you would like to or even a few mistakes that you can't make it better?

This is not something that she can call you again.Seeking for generally the same simple techniques and be bringing back all the time, I concentrated on getting your guy back!Over time, you cannot make any promises that you can do at this stage!Or, and you need to be as far as possible you are working things out, explain that you hurt him.Also, work on improving yourself, then you know these signs, then you are no longer need them.

The tricky thing here is to be in touch with him or her on a picnic, or do anything to do some research.It also looked like Jack was feeling so negative right now is the way it takes to get him back.I want you to prove to yourself and probably say things that you have both had and keep the relationship had fallen apart.This is not being true to themselves in order to understand where things went wrong and that is lust, an almost uncontrollable urge to contact, stalk, and beg.Now you need to make the same mistake once more.

But if she calls don t give her time for you, since you and get your girlfriend back instead of panicking and begging him to take many small steps than to argue so work on winning their heart again.First, don't desperately chase and call your ex back then you should of, but there are things I did it.Even if it sounds logical it is not contingent on resumption of a sudden was I so blind?It's best to ensure that you once again, as soon as possible.If you want the relationship on mutual grounds.

Find a friend if she won't want anyone else to consider if you want him back soon, because she will make getting your boyfriend back.The only reason that getting your husband back.Why would you want to make the changes you've made and then learn from our previous mistakes or we are probably going to have a limited opportunity to let her have her back using the right action.After you have to do during your time trying to get her back.If they were with your loved one has a positive attitude.

Leaving her alone and let them know how you feel you could take back all the steam that you are not aware of needing to do, but you can think of are all kinds of promises that you said so that nobody gets hurt.Be calm, but do not go on with your lover, here are some of what went wrong and decide which is beneficial to a handwritten letter, and sending your ex is very likely to turn things around.Don't make a little time and some may be able to think about getting back together again, when everyone thought that, right?If you really want to use these tricks in the morning?Let her feel you thought the one where Jack would screech that he had one chance in a link to their ex-mate how awful their lifestyle has changed and you are serious about getting back with you.

How Can I Make My Ex Jealous And Want Me Back

[itsbuckysworld]

Come Over, Come Closer

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (implied female)

Guest Appearance: None. World: AU - no avengers Genre: Fluff bomb Warnings: implications of smut.

Summary: You started staying over so much that Bucky wondered why didn’t you just move in? Prompt: “That’s the best thing i could wake up to in the morning” + Toothbrush by DNCE (i’m envisioning a similar apartment than the music video, and also a similar model for the part)

A/N: This is for @becaamm​’s Valentines Writing Challenge. This is a messy chopped up piece just really getting into the fluff of things without much backstory and whatnot. Told somewhat from two points of view. It’s like the few instances of a relationship, growing towards the big move in with me. 

Smooches! xoxo L

   “Come over?” he’d texted you, biting the nail of his left thumb almost down to the nail bed. It was risky and way past visiting hours. You two hadn’t been dating that long, but long enough that maybe, just maybe, this was okay territory. He sprinted up from his bed when he’d seen the three dots turn into a sweet “ok” from you, excitedly looking around his pad and deciding what needed urgent picking up so that the place wasn’t trashed when you arrived.

You knew deep down it was a little risky but you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no to his invite. You couldn’t deny yourself that you wanted to see him, your week had been awful and you wanted to spend time with him, so why not? You were a grown woman who made her own decisions, and you had decided you were going to go to your boyfriend’s place knowing full well that the ‘come over’ doubled as ‘stay over’. It was fine, right? You had never stayed over at any boyfriend’s place, not even the last jackass whom you dated for over a year, yet here you were, month six and already yearning, deep down, to stay at his place, the butterflies caused by excitement rather than nervousness. Why was Bucky so different?

Coming up to his door and being greeted by him in comfortable joggers, an old band t-shirt and his hair tousled casually – wow did he look good – answered the question straight away. Why was Bucky different? He was Bucky. Sweet, caring and possibly too charming for his own good Bucky. He pressed his lips to yours in a sweet peck as he welcomed you in his familiar abode. You’d been over at his place before, in fact the dinner where he asked you to be his girlfriend officially had been held in his cozy kitchen, but the mood was different this time.

Different was good though. Different was perfect.

Bucky’s nerves dissipated the moment you stepped in and let your body flop on his couch. It was only you, his girlfriend who he cared for so deeply. You were comfortable, a safe space, no need for nerves to be taking over his body. And with a deep sigh, he let his body fall on the couch next to yours as he clicked on a movie that the two of you ignored as you chatted about your days, fingers dancing around each other’s bodies under the blanket.

“You’re coming over?” he’d asked you over the phone, ten months in the relationship and the nerves of that first night you spent over long gone. He remembered it with a smile, how giddy and shy you both were, and he compared it with the contrast of today, how it became a routine for you to knock on his door after your work shift was over, and how slowly you had invaded some of his spaces with parts of you. He would find some of your shirts and dresses in his laundry, your shampoo in the shower, your favourite snacks and coffee mugs in the pantry and cupboards. It was an invasion he welcomed with open arms. 

“Coming up as we speak” you answered him and he could hear the smile on your voice. Just as you had said, a few seconds later there was a short knock at the door and he hopped over the center table in his living room to open up, greeting you with his usual kiss and a squeeze to your left hip. You tossed your uncomfortable work clothes, piece by piece on your way to his bedroom, and donned a pair of his boxers and a sweater you’d left over what felt years ago as you got comfy on the kitchen counter, waiting for whatever he was cooking for dinner to be ready. The soft music coming from his radio, the warmth and distinct aroma of his home, the sight of him moving around you in the space as he made you both some food, it was a sight for sore eyes, and you cherished every second of it. How his sweater sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his strong forearms, his bare feet barely making a sound as he expertly danced around the place, his bright eyes focused on the task at hand but also moving to scan you and pay attention to you as you spoke, and his soft lips, finding every excuse to be pressed to some part of your exposed skin.

It wasn’t anything like this the first time around, when you were silent and modest and both of you barely touched the other in fear of taking things a step too far. No. Now it was more casual, laid back and known. Now it was familiar and after doing the dishes, you didn’t wait a second to wrap your arms around his neck.

“Come closer” you said and he did, despite already being flush against your chest. “Closer” you giggle and the tip of his nose is already in contact with yours, hands splayed over your lower back, your body between his legs, and then his mouth devoured yours, like dessert after a hearty meal, legs bent over to help pick you up in his arms and direct you to the bed where neither of you were afraid to touch and grab and bite.

The sun was sneaking in through the blinds and despite having seen it multiple times by now, the ethereal sight of you in nothing but your underwear and his shirt from the day before, tying your hair up in a knot and brushing your teeth was something Bucky can’t see himself ever getting tired of.  “That’s the best thing I could wake up to in the morning” he says, his voice heavy and laced with sleep, making goosebumps appear all over your skin. You give him a soft smile, spitting out toothpaste and cleaning up. He’s stark naked as he gets up, his morning glory on display for your hungry eyes as he approaches you and traps you under his arms. You’re kissing for what seems like ages but it’s barely seconds. Seconds where he leaves you breathless, your fingers running over his light stubble. “I’m going to make us breakfast, yeah?” he says before giving you one last kiss and stepping around you to get his own toothbrush.

The idea sounds magnificent, and you’re halfway agreeing when your phone blares out with an alarm. Your eyes almost fall out of your head as you realize “Fuck! I’m gonna be so late!” You’re rushing around, picking up your clothes and gathering your belongings. “Woah woah, relax. Isn’t there a dress you can wear here?” Bucky wants you to stay, enjoy your morning with him, but the clock ticks and you should be out the door if you wanna make it back to your place to get ready and into work in time.  “Even if, I have to do my makeup and my hair’s a mess and all my reports are back home- ugh. Raincheck on breakfast, babe” is your answer as you slip on your shoes and sprint up to hi for one last kiss before rushing out with a “Love you, see you tonight” that he answers loud and fast so you can hear him say “I love you too” back before you’re gone. He’s left all alone and he sighs, pouting. That’s the only part of you staying over that he hates, that you have to leave. It’s why he’d bought you a toothbrush, why he’d made so much space for you between his things, it’s why he clearly now has a side of his bed, the other one belonging to you long ago. That morning is the first time he wonders if maybe, just maybe, it’s too soon to give you a copy of his keys and ask the big question.

You come into Bucky’s apartment after hearing him answer your knocks with an “it’s open!”

The lights are dimmed and he’s playing soft jazz, much like he did on your third ever date. The place looks exactly the same, except for the few things here and there that have changed, like the couch – the old one gave out and you’d helped him pick the new one – and the kitchen table – if you were getting a new couch and some decorations and frames for the wall, might as well tie the whole look together and do a bit of remodeling, right? At least that’s what he said and you’d found yourself picking out pieces with him, giving your input on all the changes he was making around the place that was just as yours as it was his by then –

It was your one year anniversary and he thought only fair to make tribute to the dinner date that practically started it all.

He cooked the same dish, lit up candles in the same fashion, and if your memory serves you right, he even played the same music. You give him a soft smile, feeling the same butterflies even after so long. That’s why Bucky was so different, because everyday was like day one with him.

You had agreed to no gifts, your lives too busy recently for over the top displays of affection added to the ones you displayed on the daily, which explained your soft groan when he slid over a small box and letter your way after you’ve sat on the couch after dinner, a glass of wine on your hand. 

“Jesus, Buckyyy” you whined and he sits next to you and you put your glass down.  “What?–” a chuckle escapes his lips – “just open it” he rests his head on his chin in the most endearing way, eyes glimmering with hope and anticipation, and in that moment you swear he’s the prettiest little thing you’ve ever seen.

The box is wrapped in red paper, a tiny bow taped to the middle, the letter accompanying it is short and simple. Just three words make up the contents of it. The front just says “Come over” when you slip it out of the envelope and when you flip it open you find one last word scribbled in his messy handwriting “Forever”.  As you remove the top of the box you find a keychain with a set of two keys, a gasp slowly leaving your mouth as realization hits. 

“Bucky...” comes out of you in a breathless gasp. “I know we said no gifts but… I’ve been sitting on this key for like, two months, there’s no way I was waiting” he lets out a small huff of a laugh to cover up his nerves. He doesn’t know what he’s nervous for, half his closet is littered with your clothes, you do the groceries with him every two weeks and you complained about how your apartment was dark and dusty with how little time you spent there. If he misread the signs he would be shocked beyond belief, because you were practically living with him by month seven, more so now, so there was no way under the sun that this was moving too fast. If anything, Bucky thought, this was long overdue. 

“Oh, god” you murmur under your breath, picking up the keys and the pretty keychain he’d added. You nodded you head as you pressed the set to your chest, cherishing it with all your heart, your other hand bringing him closer by his neck, pressing your forehead to his “Yes, god, I’ll move in” it’s hard to kiss through the smile almost splitting his face in half, but you manage as he pulls you closer to his chest, his hand running warm under your blouse, and he deepens the kiss, sinking both your bodies down on the couch until you’re laid flat on top of him, giggles filling the air and the distinct clatter of keys hitting the floor, but you don’t mind, all you want to do is kiss him, love him, fall more in love with him.  “I also did get you a present though” “Huh, did you now?” Bucky’s laughter rings around the room. Of course neither of you respected the no gift law.  “I have to… change into it though” You point over the couch to a pink bag he saw you come in with. He recognizes the brand as a store that sells lingerie and he groans in ecstasy at the thought, letting his head drop back as he mouths a breathless ‘Thank you’ towards the ceiling. You slap his chest and laugh, leaning down to kiss him.  “Go, go. The faster you change, the faster I can rip that off you” “Hey, no ripping” “No promises”

The following morning, his eyes have barely had time to adjust when he sees your silhouette standing by the closet. It’s the sight he loves the most.  “Man, I love waking up to this view” he mutters and you giggle, twirling and giving him a show. “Why are you up so early though?” “I was just thinking, how will i fit all my stuff here?” you tell him when you realize he’s awake and he can’t help but chuckle. Of course you’re already planning ahead.  “I thought you already had all your stuff here” he jokes. “Oh Barnes, I have a way bigger closet than you think” he smiles, his fingers pushing back his hair and you can’t help but bite your lip at the sight.  “Ok, we’ll figure it out, my closet’s yours.” “Really?” “Everything is yours if you want it…” your heart flutters at his words and the warm look on his face, his smile and caring eyes, that speak nothing but honesty and love towards you. Bucky is so different from any other man. He’s perfect. He’s the one and you know it. “Now,–” he sits up a bit, showing his naked torso that has your mouth watering – “would you mind closing the bedroom door and coming back to bed?” he makes grabby hands at you and you waste no time rushing to him after the door clicks shut, getting your bodies re-tangled under the sheets.

FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED! HERES MY ASK, HERE’S MY MASTERLIST Have a good day lovelies

Smooches, L xo <3

[kanasmusings]

[Translation] QUELL “Matchless People” Bonus Track

Here’s the bonus track that comes with Matchless People~ I don’t actually remember if it’s a pre-order bonus thing or if it’s from a joint purchase bonus XD And sorry if this took a bit longer to publish. I got distracted with all the VAZZROCK stuff lmao.

Thank you again to Deea for the files~! Please don’t ask her for them as per her request and please don’t ask if I’ll be sharing mine as well, thank you ^^

※ Please don’t re-post these translations without permission. Instead of reposting, please just like/reblog instead ^^

Under the cut, enjoy~!

[Bonus Track – Mini Drama]

[0:00]

  ICHIRU: Eichi…! Eichi, wake up.

ICHIRU: Eichi!

EICHI: Hm… What? Is something wrong…?

ISSEI: (chuckles) We just arrived at the reception area.

EICHI: Ah… I see… (stretches)

SHU: You seem sleepy. You don’t have to get up if you don’t want to.

EICHI: Mm-mm, I’m fine. I’ll go with you. I’m feeling thirsty, too, anyway.

(they get off the vehicle)

EICHI: (stretches)

ICHIRU: Woah, amazing! This is so huge!

ISSEI: There are still a lot of shops open even at night!

ICHIRU: Something smells delicious~! Ahhh, I suddenly got hungry!

SHU: It looks like we still have some time so… Want to go take a look for a bit?

ICHIRU: Let’s go! Ah, but before that… Bathroom!

(Ichiru runs off)

ISSEI: Ah, Ichiru, wait! I’ll go with you.

EICHI: The staff who came with us are all sleeping in the bus and yet they’re so full of energy, huh?

SHU: Yeah. You wouldn’t think that they did a lot of performances for an outdoor live.

EICHI: They were both in perfect condition today, weren’t they~?

SHU: They looked like they were really enjoying themselves.

EICHI: They’ve gotten used to being on site lately. The live’s stage was also spacious so it helped ease their nerves. Even I felt good about it.

EICHI: It was like our song was being taken to the sky.

EICHI: SQ and ALIVE… It was fun doing a joint activity, huh~? It was like a festival.

EICHI: Things didn’t stop even in the rain.

SHU: We were worrying about what would happen during rehearsals but… we were really fortunate.

SHU: We have to do our best with our other activities so we can do things like this again.

EICHI: Yep~

[02:09]

  (Eichi drinks)

EICHI: (sighs) Ah~ That hits the spot~

ICHIRU: Look, Issei! That menchi-katsu looks so delicious~!

ICHIRU: No, wait… Maybe the hotdog is more…

ISSEI: Ah! They have soft serve ice cream, too.

ICHIRU: Really?!

(Ichiru approaches Eichi)

ICHIRU: Eichi, stop drinking water. Let’s go eat something.

EICHI: Icchi’s so energetic, huh~?

ISSEI: Eichi, are you tired?

EICHI: U-uh… A little bit… Maybe my body’s going soft…?

EICHI: Back when I was an AD, I used to help with scheduling, the filming… I even work as an assistant during the main show, and even the cleaning up but, I never really felt that tired afterwards…

ICHIRU: Maybe you’re getting old~?

EICHI: Wait right there. That was just three years ago!

EICHI: And even if we consider all that, I’m still in my 20’s!

SHU: I’m sure there’s a different kind of nervousness with your new activities that it can’t be helped.

EICHI: Shu is so nice~

EICHI: But, at this rate… I’ll feel conflicted because I’m the only one tired.

ISSEI: Maybe you’ll feel better if you eat something.

ISSEI: You don’t have to chew ice cream so I think it’ll be easy to eat even when you’re tired.

EICHI: Y-yeah. Th-that’s fine with me but… that kinda makes me sound like an old man, huh…

SHU: But, it’s true that sweet things help make you feel better.

ISSEI: It raises blood sugar after all.

ISSEI: I got a bit curious about the melon bread advertised on the homepage, too.

ICHIRU: Eh, there was something like that?!

(Issei looks through his phone)

ISSEI: Here, see?

ICHIRU: (Ichiru starts reading from Issei’s phone) “The service area is a five-star gourmet…”

ICHIRU: It’s true! Even the melon bread looks so good!

ISSEI: But, it looks like this store is already closed.

ICHIRU: Ehhhhh?!

EICHI: I see. That’s a bit disappointing, huh?

SHU: It is late at night after all.

ISSEI: Let’s go eat some when we get the chance next time. For now, let’s think of this as something to look forward to next time.

ICHIRU: “Next time?” You mean, like with the live? But, we won’t know when we’ll get to go again, huh?

EICHI: This service area’s not that far from Tokyo and it might be kinda fun to visit it just to play, you know?

ICHIRU: Oh, I see! We can come here for fun, too!

SHU: It’s fun to do something just for the sake of a trip and not just work.

EICHI: Okay, I’ve decided! I’ll go with ice cream for today.

EICHI: The others I’ll just, you know, look forward to for next time, too!

ICHIRU: Eh, what about the menchi-katsu?

EICHI: Um… I don’t think that going with something oily would be a good idea.

ICHIRU: See? I knew you were getting old.

EICHI: No, I’m not!

SHU: It seems like we’ve decided what to buy so let’s go and get them and head home.

ISSEI: What will you get, Shu?

SHU: Mine is… Let me see… Maybe a meat bun.

EICHI: Oh, you like meat buns?

SHU: I don’t think that I dislike them.

ISSEI: Hm? What do you mean?

SHU: When it turns to winter—Ah, no… Lately, it’s been happening during summer, too.

SHU: They sell it at convenience stores a lot, don’t they? I’ve always been curious about that.

ICHIRU: I knew this might be the case but… You’ve never had them before?

SHU: Actually, yes. I keep getting nervous whenever I go alone so…

EICHI: No way, Shu…! It’s a staple winter food! A convenience store meat bun being sold at night!

EICHI: Say something about it sooner~!

ISSEI: He’s right. If we knew, we could’ve come with you to buy some.

SHU: (chuckles) So, it’s that much of a big deal, huh? Sorry, I just remembered it now.

ICHIRU: Shu is really… He’s really weird about some things or rather—he’s just ignorant of some things or—Ahhh!! We keep saying “meat bun this” or “meat bun that” that I feel like eating some, too!

ISSEI: What about the menchi-katsu and the hotdog?

ICHIRU: I wanna eat them both, too! Wait—Is that too much?

SHU: You should eat them if you’re really hungry.

SHU: We just had a really big event. Eating that much is probably not much of a problem.

ICHIRU: (chuckles) Then, I’ll have some~

SHU: (brings out a credit card) Use this card to pay for everyone’s—

ICHIRU: Don’t need it, don’t need it. We can buy stuff like these ourselves.

(Ichiru walks off to buy the food)

ICHIRU: (to the vendor) Um, excuse me! One menchi-katsu, one hotdog, and one meat bun, please~!

[06:40]

  EICHI: (chuckles) Icchi looks like he’s having fun~

ISSEI: Shu. Thank you for offering some money.

ISSEI: But, since Ichiru enjoys being able to pay for things with his own money, I’m sure he appreciates the gesture.

EICHI: Ah! I think I understand that feeling! Like, paying for a yakisoba from a food cart with your pocket money makes it even more delicious, right?!

ISSEI: Yeah. It has a different but special feeling since it’s at night, too.

SHU: I see. I understand now. It seems like I did something inelegant.

EICHI: Speaking of… I wonder how much I have left in my wallet…

EICHI: Ah, I know~ I’ll pay for it using my phone.

SHU: You can do something like that?

EICHI: You can if you register your credit card on your smartphone.

ISSEI: Ah! I’ve always thought of trying that. Do you think a minor can do it, too?

EICHI: Hm… I dunno. Let’s look it up later.

SHU: I’m curious about it, too. Teach me how to do it next time.

EICHI: Of course~ That would be no problem.

ISSEI: Shu learned a lot of new things today~

SHU: You’re right. It seems like my dream of eating a meat bun is about to come true, too.

EICHI: And here I thought that I had an idea what you all like but—A meat bun, huh?

EICHI: That was an unexpected blind spot…!

ISSEI: (chuckles) I’m glad you liked it.

ICHIRU: Hey! What’re you guys doing?

ISSEI: Oh, Ichiru’s calling for us. Let’s go to him.

EICHI: Yep~

(Eichi and Issei go run to Ichiru)

ICHIRU: Ah…! I can’t hold all three of these! Eichi, pass!

EICHI: (flustered) W-w-wait…!

ISSEI: Alright, I’ll hold the two ice creams.

  SHU: (to himself) I’m sure that anything will taste delicious as long as I’m eating with all of you.

[08:37]

  ICHIRU: (sighs) I’m so full~

EICHI: …! You finished them all already?!

ICHIRU: That much is no biggie~!

EICHI: Maybe it really is youth…

ICHIRU: Oh? (with a teasing tone) You’re finally admitting it?

EICHI: …! This is…. kinda frustrating…!

ISSEI: It’s your turn next, Shu~

SHU: Then… How about this?

(Shu puts a card down)

ISSEI: Then… I’ll go with this.

SHU: I see.

ICHIRU: Who’s um… winning right now?

SHU: It’s Issei.

ISSEI: I lost a while ago so I’m gonna win this time~

EICHI: They’re both strong so really, it’s a very tough battle.

SHU: I agree. Issei’s pretty strong, huh.

ICHIRU: I knew it~                              

EICHI: So Issei’s good at playing cards, huh?

ISSEI: Am I? I do like it though.

ICHIRU: By the way, the worst kind of card game to play with Issei is Concentration! (1)

ICHIRU: He remembers where all the cards are after seeing them only once so you can never win!

EICHI: Ahhh…! Issei’s memorization skills are amazing after all!

ISSEI: But, Ichiru has really great luck. Once he’s on a roll, he can get matches even if he doesn’t memorize them so it’s hard to win against him.

ICHIRU: Mine is really just luck though~

SHU: That means, if you two are paired, you’d definitely be invincible.

EICHI: That composure of yours is really something, too, Shu.

EICHI: By the way, my strong point is playing tactics when it comes to a one-on-one game~

ICHIRU: Oh, so you’re the type who can make the opponent draw the queen card in a game of Old Maid, huh?

EICHI: Exactly, that’s how it is.

ICHIRU: That’s so like you! You seem like the type who’ll smile when someone gets the old maid.

EICHI: Eh?! Is that the impression I give off?

ISSEI: (chuckles) Should we play with all four of us after we’re done with this?

SHU: Issei, wait. The match is just beginning. I won’t lose that easily, you know?

ICHIRU: Eh~? Can you turn it to your favour in this case?

EICHI: Shu, show me your cards for a bit~

EICHI: Ah… Hm… This really makes you conflicted, huh?

SHU: Yeah. I’m deciding whether I want to throw this one down of if I want to put the other one down.

EICHI: Uh… This one—Ah, no… Maybe this one…? Ah, I guess we can just leave this one to luck, huh?

SHU: Right? By the way, my winning chances are low if it’s left to chance.

SHU: I’m a lot worse with luck.

EICHI: U-uh… Even if you tell me that, I—

ICHIRU: (chuckles) Doing things like this sometimes is fun, huh~?

ALL: (laughs)

[11:13]

  ICHIRU: Alright, then… This one! (Ichiru puts a card down)

EICHI: AH!! So you’ll really go for that, huh? Um… If I put this down… no, that won’t be good… what about this one…?

EICHI: Ah, this is no good…! It’s my loss no matter what happens…!

ICHIRU: It’s not over, you know? Don’t give up halfway.

EICHI: I mean, this is basically impossible, you know?

ICHIRU: Don’t care, just throw whatever down. You might win!

EICHI: Then… here… (Eichi puts a card down)

ICHIRU: (laughs) It’s my win!

EICHI: See?! I told you so!

ISSEI: Um… That gives Ichiru one point. I have three and Shu also has three.

EICHI: You guys are just too good!

ICHIRU: Your face gives it away so much~

EICHI: Alright, one more! Ah—But it looks like we’re getting closer to Tokyo.

ICHIRU: Eh? Already?

EICHI: We’ll be there a bit after we get past the highway. Maybe we should start packing our things up.

ISSEI: I wanted to play just a bit longer though…

EICHI: It was fun, huh? Let’s all do it again next time.

ISSEI: Okay. Then, I’ll put the cards away.

(Issei starts putting the cards away)

ICHIRU: I’m kinda feeling hungry~

EICHI: Eh…?! Again?

ISSEI: Playing cards was fun, huh? Don’t you think so, Shu?

ISSEI: Shu?

SHU: Hm? Ah…

ISSEI: Were you sleeping by any chance?

SHU: I just dozed off for a bit. I’m fine now. What’s wrong?

ISSEI: We’re almost to Tokyo.

SHU: I see. Time flew by so fast, huh?

ISSEI: It did. Time really does fly so fast when we’re having fun.

SHU: You’re right. But, there’s still a next time.

SHU: The same goes for us playing cards again, going to the service area again, and even having another live.

ISSEI: (smiles) If there’s a next time then, that doesn’t make me so sad.

SHU: Yeah, it’s something to look forward to.

ISSEI: (chuckles) Shu~ You’re getting too excited.

SHU: (chuckles) I’m just impatient.

ISSEI: (smiles) Oh right, you said so before.

[13:33]

  (they all walk back in the dorm)

  EICHI: We’re home.

(Eichi puts the bags down)

EICHI: It’s really reassuring coming back to the dorms, huh?

EICHI: Today—Ah, no. Thank you very much for your hard work at the live and rehearsals these past two days.

SHU: Yeah, great work.

ISSEI: To you, too.

ICHIRU: (stretches) Now that we’re home, I feel like I’m getting tired.

SHU: We all did our best and it turned into a good live. I want you to rest easy tomorrow.

ISSEI: Do you have work tomorrow, Shu?

SHU: Yeah, but it’s not particularly early so there’s no need to worry.

EICHI: I’m gonna go make some tea right now. Would you guys like some?

ICHIRU: I do!

ISSEI: I want some, too.

SHU: Me, too. But, I think I’ll go take a light shower first.

EICHI: Okay~ Then, I’ll go get them ready.

ISSEI: Eichi, do you want me to help?

EICHI: It’s okay, I’ll do it. Issei, go on and sit down.

  ICHIRU: Hey, Issei. Do you think the live’s reports are already up on the net?

ISSEI: Ah, they might be. Let’s look.

(Eichi quietly brings the tea over)

EICHI: Sorry for the wait~ Ah—

SHU: Eichi, sorry for letting you do—

EICHI: Shh…

SHU: Hm?

EICHI: (whispering) Look.

(Issei and Ichiru quietly breathing in their sleep)

SHU: (smiles) They must have felt at ease after coming back to the dorms.

EICHI: (chuckles) It’s like they ran out of batteries.

EICHI: Ah but, what should we do? Maybe letting them rest on the bed is better…

SHU: They’re sleeping so soundly. I’d feel bad if we woke them up.

EICHI: Ah, I know! Then, maybe I should lay a futon out and sleep here, too~

SHU: If you’re going to do that then, let me join in, too.

EICHI: Eh? But you have work tomorrow, right? Will that be okay for you?

EICHI: Maybe the bed would be—

SHU: Don’t leave me out, please.

EICHI: Ah, no, no. That’s not what I was—

ICHIRU: (sleep-talking) ‘Scuse me… One hotdog and melon bread, please…

ISSEI: (sleep-talking) Ichiru…

EICHI: (lets out a strained breath) I thought we woke them up…

EICHI: (whispering) Okay. Then, I’ll go quietly bring some futon here.

(Eichi slowly walks away)

 SHU: (to himself) Things I only saw in my imagination are all becoming true every day, huh.

SHU: Thank you, really. Good night.

  ==END==

Translator’s Notes:

(1) I uh... Don’t really know if I should consider this a translator’s note because it’s mostly just me not knowing anything about a card game. I didn’t know what the game “Shinkei-suijaku” would be called in other countries (not just in general) because this is legit the first time I’ve actually heard of it orz 

It’s basically a card game where you place cards face down on a table and you try to make pairs match. I just went with “Concentration” because I think that is the most common translation for it. It’s also called “Pairs” or “Match Up” or other stuff but “Concentration” was apparently more popular???

※ Please don’t re-post the English translations without permission.

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