#maybe the vendors are all friendly

[the-boy-branithar]

Literally why am I thinking up ideas for a Fallout: Stardew Valley mod?

[somethingaboutvampires]

Forced to go to a work conference. My boss' boss' boss told me that I was repping our company, not myself, and I was required to go to the expo, shake hands with our 3rd party vendors and thank them for a great job.

My position at this company is so low that it's laughable they sent me here.

So I do this and the vendors were like: "Uh. Okay? Thanks I guess?" Some eyerolled. Also, I was offered zero swag when I did this. Swag sitting right there. Right there on the table.

So, ya. Eyeroll a 'great job we love your services' from an almost trillion dollar company and a single person reaching out to you thru the ether. Cheers.

[wanderingcritter]

Friendly reminder to never EVER let losers on the internet convince you that alterhumanity is wrong or will never be accepted by general society.

I went to my city's local renaissance faire earlier this week and I had genuinely such an incredible experience. I went with my tail, theta delta necklace, and mask (which I may post here once Im fully done with it lol) gear and received so many compliments. Not only that but I saw and talked to quite a few other alterhumans, like at least 10 and that was after only being there for 1 of the 2 days for less than 2 hours. Also please keep in mind that this was by no means a large ren faire (at least compared to others in the region) and the area I live in is very mixed in terms of progressiveness. But at one point I was walking past some vendors and an older lady running one of the booths exclaimed how much she liked my mask and asked to take a picture of it, and explained how her granddaughter was just starting to learn how to make some of her own. And then told me that the booth next to hers was "selling some therian masks" (yes she actually used the word therian completely unprompted!) and sure enough the couple in there were selling some masks made by their 11 year old daughter (which were absolutely gorgeous btw). Afterwards, as I was out near the parking lot waiting for my ride so that I could leave, I was practicing quadrobics and some 5-6 year old kids walked past me with their parents and looked absolutely awestruck. Shortly after another woman approached me and told me that her young granddaughter was completely overjoyed when she saw me me running around and had wanted to come play with me, and had said "Ive never seen a creature play like that before!!"

Not only was the ren faire itself super fun and cool to be at (I can't wait for next year omg), but it was unexpectedly the most positive alterhuman related experiences Ive had maybe ever.

There is a future where we are normal, where others see us as who we truly are and where we don't have to conceal ourselves to avoid judgement. The road isn't always going to be smooth, especially as we grow in numbers, in fact I fully expect things to get a whole lot worse for us in the years and decades to come. But one day, maybe even in our lifetimes, you will walk through a pride parade and see someone enthusiastically waving a massive theta delta flag through the crowd. You will hear strangers casually use species neutral language like it's the most normal thing in the world. You will sit down with your family to watch the newest popular tv show that includes a character who has received species affirming medical care. You will walk past a cozy locally owned business that has an "all species welcomed!" sticker on their window next to their lgbtq+ and poc welcoming signs.

We are everywhere, and we're not going away. There will always be those who refuse to understand us, but there will be more who choose to love and accept us in our entirety, I have absolutely no doubt about that <3

[coralinnii]

Hello Coral~~💖💖✨✨ Congrats on your 2.7k Milestone 💐🎂✨ Like many others, I love your villainess au and happy that many people is supporting it ✨✨ For the event request, I have some brain rots about Sebek Silver Malleus being in a friendly culture (maybe theyre visiting Yuu's hometown and its really welcoming like the people from Kalim's Hometown)!! they refer to them as like their family, gifts them foods the very moment they visited, and not bothered that theyre faes since they know theyre just creatures who protects nature~ i think its a nice culture shock for them considering how secluded and proper briar valley is ✨

‧₊˚✧ It Takes a Village‧₊˚✧ 

↳ Getting Culture Shock from Your Hometown

feat: Sebek ❋ Silver ❋ Malleus genre: fluff, note: no pronouns were used for reader, established relationships, set before Book 7 (mostly because I haven’t finished it yet),

A lot of the scenarios are inspired and modeled after my experiences growing up, which is very Southeast Asia-coded. So, I apologise if this is not actually how you envision. Hope you still enjoy, though. 

similar post: Getting Culture Shock from your Friendly Family (Sebek, Silver, Malleus)

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You’d be absolutely evil if you didn’t even try to warn your uptight boyfriend. I’d love you for that  

Sebek has finally found his match as his own voice gets drowned out by the boisterous market vendors and customers, but he’s more surprised by the forward way everyone seems to address each other. 

“Sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m-” 

“Sebek, he’s not really my uncle. We call everyone that.” 

You would have to keep Sebek on tight hold because he’s a gullible green bean. The freshman burns in embarrassment at every “handsome boy” or “strong guy” comment calling out for his attention. He won’t lie, his ego is inflated quite a bit but it’s still strange to hear someone other than you call him that. 

On the other hand, he’s not too sure how to feel when vendors of all ages were calling out to you the same way. You may be used to it but Sebek isn’t, especially if he’s not used to calling you beautiful or cute himself yet. 

But, he could take this as a challenge to improve himself. For every compliment they give, he’ll give you tenfold. This he swears!

To your luck, it seems that the market the two of you were visiting was hosting a mini concert as music and lights filled a well-known open space near the market. 

Visitors and locals young and old surrounded the space, either resting while eating their confections or grooving to the catchy tune of the music blasting through the speakers. 

Then, a particularly famous song began to play, and Sebek flinched as the crowd suddenly burst in excited cheers and laughter, you included. Many women and men jumped to their feet, with some confidently running to the center of the space. You jumped to your feet as they did, but you chose to stand close to your confused boyfriend. 

Sebek’s expression was a comedic masterpiece as he watched you and many others start this synchronized sequence of silly movement, identical to the minor beat. Those who didn’t join were still clapping in unison while joyously laughing. 

What sort of local ritual was this? 

The synchronous dance was short lived, and soon people were divided into those who resumed their previous activity or continued swaying to the melody. 

You fell into the latter category, even reaching to Sebek hoping to persuade him to join you. 

Sebek was shocked and a little offended. He was a man of great honor and pride. He’d rather be caught dead than to devolve himself to this undignified manner of dance, if you could even call it so. No, he would never stoop so low, even if the string lights gave off this tempting glow around you, your soft hand still reaching out to him while you looked at him so lovingly… 

Well, the knight-in-training thought he could allow such exceptions once in a while, especially when you smiled so beautifully when he joined you on the dance floor. 

Don’t let Sebek know, but he became sort of a local online sensation as someone slyly took a video of him smiling so softly at you after putting on such a grumpy persona. 

Every reshare of this video was always paired with the caption, “Scary man turns into puppy for his lover”  

See, you can’t tell if your community is being especially friendly, or maybe it’s just that the beautiful young man next to you is just too irresistible to ignore. 

All the chatty aunties were cooing over Silver and even the laid-back uncles sitting around were praising the cut of Silver’s muscular figure. 

But, you won’t say anything because you just wanted Silver to smile and bask in the well-deserved praises. 

“The locals here are quite friendly to strangers like me, even offering small treats.” 

“Mhm, they sure are.” 

Silver is amazed by the seamless blend of close bonds and community from what he sees. Customers casually chatting with workers as children run around without worries in this homely environment. 

In comparison to them, Silver felt a little inadequate as he couldn’t express himself as openly as the locals do so easily. 

But maybe because they’re so open with everyone, he feels this sense of safety to try. 

“So you’re not from around here, are you?” The kind woman asked the silver-haired man as her fingers deftly package and wrap some snacks you two picked out to share with others back in NRC. 

“No, I’m actually from Briar Valley.” 

“Hmm, that’s the fae kingdom, right?” The woman’s curiosity peaked. “Are you fae, then? I couldn’t tell.” 

“Well no, I’m human. I was adopted by my father who’s from Briar Valley.” 

“Just him? No one else?” The store owner asked without looking at Silver once, instead moving back and forth to get things done behind the counter, but her attention was still locked on him.

“There were a few others I grew up with, but my father was the one who raised me” 

It was only then when the busy woman slowed down a smidge, pausing for a moment before untying the bag that held your snacks. You watched her tossed a few more small packets of snacks near her counter. 

“These are very popular, share them with your father.” She looked sternly into your boyfriend’s iridescent eyes, the first time in a while since you’ve been in the store. “Make sure to visit him, okay?” 

Silver wanted to protest, to correct the misunderstanding. The snacks the two of you picked out already included some for Lilia and he couldn’t possibly ask for more without paying. 

It was up to you to intervene. “Just give up, Silver. You can’t change a woman’s mind.” 

The store owner nodded. “Listen to the smart one. Just take it, I insist.” 

With a sliver of guilt but a lot of warmth, Silver eventually accepted the kind woman’s offering before leaving the establishment. 

What Silver didn’t see however, was you sneaking a few snacks and a drink onto the counter with adequate fare tucked underneath. You shared a look with the store owner before leaving, playfully staring her down to not to refuse your offering. 

The store owner let out a laugh, thinking what a cute couple you were. 

Regardless of wherever he goes, Malleus sticks out like a sore thumb, a very intimidating sore thumb. 

Eyes naturally glance at him with curiosity throughout the market, amazed by the regal figure walking around, like a celebrity strolling around the local areas. 

If your hometown speaks another language, some of the market vendors would tell you not-so sneakily how attractive your lover was while Malleus was none the wiser.

But, as curious as the humans were, they were quick to accept him as is, which shocked the fair-skinned fae. It wasn’t as though he was being avoided or judged, but rather the community took him and his inhuman appearance as typical. Undaunted by anything, the nosy sellers would joke and compliment him like any other walking around here. 

“What a handsome fae you are, you can be a model!” “And tall! He can reach the top of our tent, haha!”

Malleus can tell his horns and ears are eye-catching to say the least, but everyone was quick to grow accustomed to his features, even warning him to watch his head should he bump into anything in this crowded alley. 

“Are those with my features a common prevalence in your homeland?” 

“No, you’re a rarity around here. But that doesn't mean you don’t belong here any less.” 

“Ah, so this is how a beautiful soul is cultivated,” Malleus thought, gazing softly as you and a kind merchant searched around the store for a shirt that could fit the future king.

The day was setting, and you and Malleus decided to rest at a popular park that was famous for its view of the town. You weren’t alone as both locals and visitors filled the space, either resting or making memories with their friends and families. 

Then, you heard a whisper from a timid voice behind the two of you. 

“Um, mister.” You turned around to see some local children looking curiously at Malleus. 

“Are you fae?” The eldest boy spoke first, nervously clutching his jacket. 

When Malleus calmly responded in affirmation, the other children lit up with excited smiles. 

“You’re super tall, taller than my dad!” Another child exclaimed, “Are all fae tall like you?” 

Malleus smirked rather haughtily. “Very few others, fae or otherwise, stand on par to myself.”

”I’m the tallest in my class!” The eldest boy blurted out, even puffing his chest and slightly leaning on his toes. “It’s because I drink my milk everyday. Do you drink milk?” 

You abruptly nudged your lover before intervening. “Yes he does, which is why you need to drink milk and other healthy food to keep growing.” 

A little girl, hidden behind the first two children, spoke out. “How long is your hair? My hair is really long too!” 

She pushed her long braided hair to the front, comparing her neatly combed hair to Malleus’s direction. 

“Your hair is quite long indeed, perhaps matching mine in length at first glance.” Malleus commented back, amused by the children’s competitive nature. 

After sharing all of their thoughts, the curious children finally left when their guardians called them back, waving at the two of you before running out of sight. Now free, Malleus looked to you with curiosity of his own gleaming in his striking green eyes. 

“The offspring of this land are inquisitive as they are fearless,” Malleus smiled in your direction. “I wonder if all children hailed from here shared these traits.” 

Were you like them as a child? 

You picked up on his unspoken question and replied with a cheeky expression. “Wouldn’t you like to know~” 

Would he? Would he like to know if you were the type to run around so carefree and see the world with such interest and curiosity. If your future children would be like those endearing little ones just now…

Yes, he would.

[littlefireball]

ʜᴊ|ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ (ᴍ)

ᴘɪʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜰᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ, ʀᴏʙʙᴇʀʏ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ꜱᴇx|ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ(?)|ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.9ᴋ

Summary: The tranquil existence was shattered today by the merciless pirates. You surrendered to the overwhelming tide of despair, letting it engulf you. Yet, in that moment of darkness, a figure emerged to rescue you. But is this hero a beacon of hope or a harbinger of doom?

The golden rays of the morning sun filter through the window, warming your face as you rise. Just like every other day, you gather your belongings and step outside, exchanging friendly greetings with the neighbors before unlocking the door to the café right on schedule.

All is as it should be.

"Good morning, Y/N!" called out a familiar voice. It was a middle-aged man, a loyal customer who always ordered the same sandwich without fail.

"Morning!" you replied, already moving with practiced ease to prepare his breakfast.

"How're you doing?" 

"Fine I guess." 

"It's good to hear." He sighed. "Did you hear the news? Pirates have been causing quite a stir lately.

"Yeah… all we can do is hope they steer clear of our town."

"Let's hope so." He smirked helplessly. "Maybe I should just pack up and find a new place."

"Pack up? Where?"

"I'm not sure, just anywhere that feels safe." He shrugged. "What about you? Aren't you thinking of moving?"

"I wish I could. But, you know… my funds are pretty tight."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Here's your sandwich."

"Thanks." He settled the bill and walked out, leaving you alone in the café.

Just as you turned around to tidy up the table, a loud shock caught you off guard. 

"Run!!" The once tranquil town erupted into chaos, and you peered out the window, heart racing with dread. Tons of men wielding a machete swung their weapons menacingly, demanding that the terrified residents surrender their belongings. The air was filled with desperate cries and frantic screams as people scattered in every direction. 

Without a moment's hesitation, you dashed to the door, but just as you reached for the lock, a group of men burst in, kicking the door wide open. You stumbled to the floor, mortified, and before you could regain your footing to fight back, one of the men seized you roughly.

"Let go of me, you scoundrel!" you shouted, thrashing against his grip, but the pirate's hand clamped down on your wrist like a vice.  

"Shut your mouth, you wench!" he barked. The ship rocked violently beneath you as you were dragged onto the deck, your struggles futile against the chains that bound you. The laughter of the pirates echoed around you as they shoved you aside. Helpless, you watched in horror as the small shop you had poured your heart into was ransacked, the townsfolk fleeing in terror, and the once vibrant community fell into an eerie stillness.

"Hey, see this baby girl~how cute you are!" " "Leave me alone, you filthy scum!" Your voice quivered with a mix of fear and defiance as you glared at the pirate who had captured you. 

One of them, should be the captain, a cruel smirk playing on his lips, approached you with a lecherous gleam in his eyes. "A feisty one, aren't you? We'll see how long that lasts," he sneered, his breath reeking of rum and malice. "Set sail!"  

As the boat glides farther into the distance, the town gradually fades from view. The lively chatter of vendors hawking their wares in the bustling market is replaced by the lingering echoes of laughter that grate on your nerves.The salty sea air stung your eyes as you struggled against the chains that bound you to the wooden post. 

Tsk…

The crashing waves echoed around you, a constant reminder of your precarious situation. 

Frantic escape ideas raced through your mind. Yet, you were a land dweller, and diving into the ocean means dying. What options do you have? Can you really call out for someone to rescue you? Here you are, in the heart of the sea—who could—

"Turn left!!!!!It's ATEEZ's ship!!" A loud cry jolted you from your thoughts. Just as you were about to grasp the situation, everything unfolded before your eyes. A deafening roar erupted from the left side of the ship, causing it to lurch violently and sending terror through the crew. The sturdy vessel splintered, hurling pirates overboard, and you tumbled into the frigid sea.

The icy water enveloped you, and you fought to break the surface, but the ocean constricted your breath and drained your strength. As despair set in, you surrendered to the darkness. Just then, strong arms seized you, pulling you upward. Your vision blurred, obscuring your savior's identity, and consciousness slipped away.

—---

Coughing violently, you expelled the salty seawater that had filled your mouth. Your breaths came in rapid gasps, a primal instinct driving you to inhale as if the very air might slip away. As clarity returned, you realized that you were still aboard the vessel... but the faces of the crew surrounding you seemed unfamiliar.

"Are you awake?" A gentle voice broke through the haze, and you turned to see a man clad in a flowing white robe, his expression warm and reassuring.  

"Where... am I?" you managed to whisper, your voice barely above a breath.  

"A ship, obviously," Yunho replied. "You fell into the sea and Jongho saved you." 

The vivid image of the recent attack flickered on the screen, and a wave of dread washed over you as you gazed at the man standing before you. ATEEZ, you recalled, infamous for their ruthless piracy. What would they do? Would they end your life? But then again, why would they bother to rescue you?

"It's perfectly normal to feel a bit disoriented right now. It's a common reaction after being submerged in water..." The man's voice, surprisingly calm, began to ease the tension in your chest. Perhaps they weren't as terrifying as the tales suggested? Still, you knew better than to let your guard down.

"Is she alright?" At that moment, Hongjoong gently knocked and opened the door. His striking features made your heart race. Despite your reluctance to admit it, he was undeniably handsome, far from the "demon" the stories painted him to be.

"Yah, she is just a bit frightened," Yunho said as he rose to his feet, and Hongjoong nodded, his gaze remained fixed on you.

"What's your name, lady?"

"Y/N..."

"I'm Hongjoong, the captain. This is Yunho, our doctor." You nodded as he continued, "I'm sorry for your fall into the sea. It was indeed our attack that caused the ship you were on to sink."

"No... I owe you my gratitude. You were the ones who saved me."

He shrugged with a warm smile. "Just take some time to rest, and we'll arrange for you to be taken to the nearest town."

You nodded, and they stepped out, leaving you to gather your thoughts. You stumbled out of bed, your feet heavy as you made your way to the door, only to be met with the murmur of several men outside.

You stumbled out of bed, your feet heavy as you made your way to the door, only to be met with the murmur of several men outside.

"What is the captain thinking? Bringing a woman aboard?"

"Exactly! This is bound to bring us misfortune!"

"Or maybe he plans to trade her? She's not too shabby, after all..."

"But I heard she's being sent to other towns."

"Is it really that straightforward?"

You clamped a hand over your mouth, panic rising within you, tears welling in your eyes as your heart raced. They were clearly not good men. But what could you do? Escape? That was out of the question. How could you prove to them that you wouldn't bring them bad luck? It was easy to say, but how could you actually do it? Just as your mind spiraled into chaos, loud voices broke through your thoughts.

"Why are we having abura soba again?" Hongjoong grumbled.

"Because they're delicious," Yunho replied.

"That's excessive, don't you think?" Hongjoong shot back. "I eat abura soba five days a week!"

"Is that a problem? The crew loves it," Wooyoung chimed in as he knocked on your door. When you opened it, he stood there with a steaming bowl of noodles.

"Hey there, Y/N, right? Here, if you don't mind, I made this for you," Wooyoung said, placing the bowl on your table. "I'm Wooyoung, by the way."

"Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Though you were wary of possible poison, your hunger overpowered your caution. You took a bite, and to your surprise, it was delicious. Before long, the bowl was empty, and you watched as the others busied themselves with cleaning up.

"Hey, Y/N," Wooyoung approached you, balancing several bowls in his hands. "Are you done? You can hand the bowl back to me."

"Oh, it's fine. Let me help you. You look a bit worn out."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." You joined him in gathering bowls and chopsticks, following him to the kitchen. As you walked, you took in your surroundings, contemplating your next move... perhaps earning their trust was the best strategy for survival, at least for now.

As you stepped into the kitchen, you noticed Hongjoong frantically working on something, clearly in a rush.

"Hey, hyung. Just try not to shatter the bowl again," Wooyoung remarked, already scrubbing the dishes.

"I won't," Hongjoong replied, but his next words nearly sent the bowl tumbling.

"Um… are you going to lend him a hand?" you whispered to Wooyoung.

"Nope. I'm busy. Maybe you should go see what he's up to."  

With that, you approached Hongjoong cautiously. This could be a perfect chance to earn his trust.

"Hongjoong?"

"Yah?"

"Do you need any help?" You glanced at the mess on the table, where he was clumsily beating eggs.

"No, I'm good. Oh no!"

You quickly caught the bowls and chopsticks as they teetered, relieved they didn't break.

"Hmm… if you're okay with it, I could cook something up for you."

"Really?"

"I actually work as a cook."

"Ah, so you're just like Wooyoung."

"I guess so. What do you feel like eating?"

"Just not abura soba, please." You grinned and nodded. "And I'm not a fan of vegetables."

"Got it."

You set to work with the ingredients spread out on the table, whipping up the dishes you know best while ensuring the table remains neat. Before long, your masterpiece was complete. You entered the dining hall, cradling a bowl of fragrant soup. Hongjoong stood tall, his eyes widening at the sight of you.

"Oh wow! That smells so good!" he exclaimed, quickly blowing on the noodles before digging in. "This is absolutely delicious!" A sense of pride swelled within you as you witnessed his joy, a reminder of why you chose the culinary path.

"Perhaps you should be my personal chef," he joked, a playful smirk on his lips. You smile back, taking his words lightly, fully aware that you won't be staying long here. 

Hongjoong seemed to relax a bit, his shoulders dropping slightly as he savored each bite, his eyes closed in blissful contentment.

"I can't believe I've never had anything like this before," he said, opening his eyes to meet yours with a newfound appreciation. "You really are talented."

You blushed slightly, grateful for the compliment. "Thank you, Hongjoong. It's just something I enjoy doing."

As you sat down across from him, Wooyoung wandered in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, what's going on here? Did I miss the party?"

"Just having a nice meal," Hongjoong replied, gesturing to the now half-empty bowl in front of him.

Wooyoung's expression softened, a hint of surprise crossing his face. "Can I have a taste?"

"Nope. That's mine." 

Hongjoong immediately finished them all, not letting Wooyoung eat. 

"Yah!Hyung!" "Who told you not to help me?" 

You chuckled, watching them quarreling playfully. It appeared that this was part of their everyday life. From this viewpoint, they were completely disconnected from any notion of evil. 

In the days that followed, it felt as if you had stepped into the role of Hongjoong's personal chef. Initially, he continued to enjoy Wooyoung's meals, but he would occasionally drop hints that your cooking was just as delightful. Eventually, you took the plunge and prepared a dish just for him, hoping to win his trust. The joy on his face was infectious; he began to request your cook regularly, and soon, even some of the crew members were intrigued by your skills. 

Cooking for them brought you immense joy, as their satisfaction filled you with happiness. Over time, your initial apprehension faded, and the thought of leaving began to slip from your mind. The idea of visiting the nearby town seemed to vanish. Yet, in recent days, Hongjoong's demeanor shifted, making you reconsider your plans.

Did you do something to upset him? How could you make up for him? You worried about whether you would be killed for this? No. What you were concerned about was what if Hongjoong didn't like you?

He had grown somewhat distant, his warmth replaced by a chill that left you unsettled. This was especially evident when you were in the kitchen with Wooyoung; his coldness bordered on anger. Today was no different.

"Are you alright, Y/N? You look a bit pale," Wooyoung asked, concern etched on his face.

"Just feeling a little under the weather..." you replied with a bittersweet smile, though the cramping in your abdomen made it hard to stand. You suspected the long days at sea and the cold had taken a toll on your body. "Hiss..."

"Maybe you should take a break?" "But I want to make some food for Hongjoong…" You winced, wanting to refuse and continue helping in the kitchen, but the pain rendered your limbs weak, making cooking impossible.

"Nah. You should go back to your room." 

"But what if he didn't like me?" 

"Huh?"

"I mean…he may hate me if I don't cook for him." 

"He wouldn't think so.

"But…"

"No. Just go take a rest, okay? I can handle." Wooyoung stopped you. "Can you walk?"

"I think so?" In reality, each step felt like a monumental challenge.  

"Let me help you." Wooyoung took your hand and supported your shoulders, a moment that caught Hongjoong's eye.

"What are you doing?" he approached, anger flashing in his eyes, but as he noticed the pain etched on your face, his expression shifted. "What's wrong? Are you okay, Y/N?"

"She's sick." Wooyoung said. 

"I'm not asking you." 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes playfully, knowing Hongjoong was jealous. 

"So now I will send her to her room." 

"No." Hongjoong pulled you to his arms carefully. "I will send her and you cook." 

"Okay, okay." 

—----

"Do you need any medicine?" Hongjoong inquired as he gently laid you down on the bed. "Or should I call Yunho for assistance?"

"Actually..." you winced, the pain making your words slow. "It's just period cramps."

"Oh... umm... would something warm help? Maybe hot water?"

You nodded, and he quickly dashed out to fetch a cup of steaming water.

"Here, be careful." He supported your back as you sat up, handing you the warm cup.

"Thank you." You took a sip, feeling the soothing warmth spread through you. It wasn't just the hot water; it was Hongjoong's tender care that made your heart flutter. You couldn't deny the twinge of sadness when he seemed distant. You longed for his smile and the sweet words he used to share. Unbeknownst to you, your feelings for him were already blossoming.

"Do you need more?" As you lifted your gaze, you noticed how close he was, causing a blush to creep onto your cheeks. "No, it's okay."

Hongjoong smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he noticed your embarrassment. "Alright, but let me know if you need anything else. I'm here for you." 

"Thank you," you replied with a nod. "But Wooyoung really needs to step up; he's in charge of everyone's lunch."

Hongjoong feigned a cough as he plopped down beside you, irritation evident in his voice. "It's no big deal; he's used to it. You shouldn't worry about him." You stifled a laugh—wasn't he just a tad envious?

"Nope. Everyone seems to be eating a lot more these days," you teased, enjoying the playful banter as his jealousy was unmistakable.

"Why are you so concerned about him? Do you have a crush on him?" His question took you by surprise, and it seemed to catch him off guard too. "Ugh, forget it."

"Does it bother you who I like?" You asked. His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he quickly averted his gaze.

"No, it's not that," Hongjoong stammered, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "It's just…I didn't expect you to be interested in him. He's always been so…carefree and unpredictable." 

I once had a crush, but it wasn't on Wooyoung. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as a warm sensation blossomed in your chest. After inhaling deeply, you were prepared to share your truth. "Hongjoong�� there's something special about what I feel… when you're near, my heart starts to race. I think I might be falling for you."

"Seriously?" Your confession surprised him, and a shy yet joyful smile spread across his face. "Were you just teasing me?"

"Not at all. I would never lie about how I feel."

He leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of jest. The sincerity in your tone echoed through the room, and the tension between you seemed to dissolve. Hongjoong's hand, which had been resting on the bedsheets, gently brushed against yours, and you didn't pull away.

"I never thought... I mean, I've always been there for you, but I never expected..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.

"Expected what?" You prompted, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.

Hongjoong looked down, his fingers entwining with yours. "I never imagined that you would see me as more than just a friend. I've always admired you, from afar, but I never dared to dream that you felt the same way."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you leaned in, closing the small gap between you. 

"I think I like you, too." Hongjoong's expression softened, and he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. It was a gentle, comforting embrace that spoke volumes of the feelings he had been holding back.

"Thank you," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "I've been waiting for this moment for so long. I'm glad you feel the same way."

Smiling, you gave him a nod after a gazing. Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, catching you by surprise, but you quickly melted into the kiss. 

As you lay back on the bed, he hovered over you, the kiss unbroken. He was tender and cautious, as if he feared making you uneasy.

"I have a good way to reduce the period pain." He settled your hand on his cheek, giving a peck on that. "Do you wanna give it a try?"

You knew what he meant and what he wanted to do. Of course, you wanted to, too. 

"Please." 

"Wait for a while." He pecked at you after leaving for a towel and condom. Placing the towel under your thighs, he then lifted up your dress to slide down your panties. 

"I love you, y/n." He towered you, pulling out his cock from his panties. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the contours of your cheek, as if committing your beauty to memory. You closed your eyes, a soft sigh escaping your lips, inviting him closer.

Their lips met in a kiss that was at once tender and passionate, filled with a longing that had been building for what felt like an eternity. He guided his member to your entrance, which was already wrapped up in a condom, then slowly eased into you. 

You moaned out as you broke the kiss, the sensation of being filled up was weird you could say. Hongjoong, same as you, felt a little bit uneasy because of your sticky blood. 

"It hurts…" A deep frown creased your forehead as the familiar grip of menstrual pain returned. Watching you suffer, Hongjoong's heart ached with sorrow. He lingered, allowing your pain to fade gradually, before he began to move in and out. His rhythm matched the tenderness of his kisses, a blend of softness and intensity.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper. His cock could easily reach your sensitive spot thanks to your blood. Settling your legs around his waist, he rolled his hips at a steady pace. 

"Shit, it feels good." "Hongjoong…" "It's okay, love." His head landed in your neck, dropping a broken kiss on that. It began with a gentle brush of lips against the warm, smooth skin, a tentative exploration that sent shivers down your spine. He deepened his kiss as he started to rush, his lips lingering softly on the curve of the neck as well as his thick cock─grazing your hot wall deliciously as he moved back and forth. 

"Joong…it's…fuck…"His hard tip suddenly hit your sweet spot, making you whole body squirm and let out a shy moan. "Here?" He hit it again, you couldn't help but tighten your wall. The wave of excitement rushed throughout your body each time he collided with it. You loved it. 

"Please, joong. I need more." "As you wish,  baby girl." He lifted up his hips, withdrawing his cock until only his tip inside you, then shoving back with a great force. You arched your back, opening your mouth for better breathing. The crash he made caused you to run out of oxygen. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He fucked you so fast and hit the same spot dead on. All the heat gathered in your lower core and formed a knot. Pain?It was already faded away and instead by your climax. Your wall clenched his cock, urging him to bring you to the edge. He picked up his pace, panting heavily and letting out a throaty moan. 

Your legs were placed on his shoulder, oh, he went so deep. He sat up straight, grabbing your knees and pushed into your wetness. The noise from outside faded away, leaving only the rapid thumping of your heart and the skin slapping sound, drowning out the chaos beyond. His ball hit your ass each time his tip reached the deepest, making you groan without care. 

His hand found his way to your collar, pulling it down to explode your fine chest. He pushed up your bra, squeezing your breast hard while teasing your nipple, earning a shy chuckle from your lips. "Gotta taste you." He leaned down to suck your nipple, his tongue licked everywhere he could reach. 

The double excitement made you spin. There was nothing left but only the kissing sound and the skin slapping sound bouncing off the wall. 

"I'm so close." He huffed, his thrust lost its rhythm as he found the way to peak. You, too. After a few thrust and a long throaty moan, both of you came. "Goodness." Your embrace tightened as you two didn't want to leave. Catching his breath, he pecked at your cheek before removing. 

"Am I right?Does it hurt now?" He asked, a grin played on his lips. 

"No." You shook your head. "Thank you." You gazed into each other's eyes, their faces flushed with the aftermath of their intimacy.

"Hey, I made lunch." Wooyoung suddenly knocked on your door, giving you two shocks. "But I think you two are full now?"

"No…ugh…we'll eat later." Hongjoong stammered. 

"Alright. You two will be hungry for sure especially after an intense team sport!" Wooyoung teased. 

"Shut up!Wooyoung!Leave!" 

"Okay, okay~Call me if you need more condoms." 

"I'll just kill you, you asshole!" 

Ah…it was so embarrassing.

tag list:@angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615

[libingan]

im literally writing this in the middle of an online meeting LMFAO your bitch is in college, yall!!!!!!! and i'll be on this laptop until 8:30PM hahaha..... anw this is abt reader who wants kyle to be rougher in bed so she deliberately riles him up by getting him jealous there is no sex sorry guys

sex with kyle has always been good—better than good, in fact. he’s gentle, considerate, and utterly devoted to making sure you unravel with pleasure under his touch. every time, he focuses on you, putting your needs above his, ensuring you’re satisfied before he even considers his own desires. it’s sweet, thoughtful, and exactly what you’ve always wanted. but sometimes… sometimes, you crave something different.

you can’t help but fantasize about kyle taking what he wants from you, losing control, fucking into you like you’re just a toy for him to use. you want him to be rough and domineering, to show you a side of him you’ve never seen in the bedroom. you’ve tried everything—being bratty, sassing him out, sometimes even deliberately annoying him in hopes of pushing him over the edge. but it never works. he always brushes you off with a patient smile, calm as ever, as if he’s completely immune to your provocations.

that’s when you get the idea to flirt with another man during one of your shopping trips.

the market is bustling with activity, people moving around, chatting, haggling with vendors. kyle had just excused himself to the restroom, leaving you alone to browse. it’s then that you see your opportunity.

a man about your age, maybe a bit older, with a friendly smile and an easygoing manner, starts a conversation with you as you look over a display of fresh produce.

“hey there,” he says, giving you a once-over before focusing on the vegetables in front of you. “you new around here? don’t think i’ve seen you before.”

you smile back, trying to put just enough charm into it. “yeah, just passing through with a friend. figured we’d stop by and pick up a few things.”

he nods, leaning a little closer. “well, you’re in for a treat. this market has the best stuff. need any recommendations?”

you tilt your head, pretending to consider it. “i wouldn’t mind some suggestions. maybe you could help me find something good?”

the man grins, clearly pleased with the attention. “sure thing. name’s mike, by the way.”

you introduce yourself, and the two of you chat for a bit longer. he’s friendly, flirty in a harmless kind of way, but you notice the way he keeps inching closer, his eyes lingering on you. it’s exactly what you were hoping for.

then kyle returns. you spot him out of the corner of your eye, and for a moment, you feel a pang of guilt. but you push it aside, determined to see this through. mike suddenly wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer in a way that’s casual but undeniably possessive.

kyle’s expression shifts as he watches, his brows furrowing in confusion, then anger when you do nothing to stop the man’s touch. you can see it in the way his jaw tightens, his posture stiffening as he approaches.

“hey, love,” kyle says as he comes up to you both, his voice cool but with an edge to it.

you look up at him with a smile, but before you can introduce him, mike speaks first. “oh, hey there. you must be the friend they mentioned.”

kyle’s eyes flicker with something dark, and you can practically feel the tension radiating off him. “friend?” he echoes, his voice a low rumble.

you nod, trying to keep the situation light. “yeah, this is kyle. we’re just out doing some shopping.”

kyle’s gaze locks onto yours, his eyes narrowing slightly. “right. just shopping.”

there’s a moment of silence, the air between the three of you heavy with unspoken tension. mike, seemingly oblivious, starts talking again, but you barely register his words. all you can focus on is kyle, the way his usually warm eyes have gone cold.

“let’s go,” kyle finally says, cutting mike off mid-sentence. his hand wraps around your wrist, not harshly but with enough force to make it clear he’s done playing along.

you barely manage a goodbye to mike as kyle pulls you away, his grip on your wrist firm as he leads you out of the market and towards home. the silence between you is deafening, and your heart pounds in your chest, but it’s not the thrill of anticipation you’d been hoping for. it’s something else—something almost like fear.

when you finally reach the apartment, kyle lets go of your wrist, taking a step back as he runs a hand over his face. but he says nothing. he doesn’t even look at you, just stands there, his back to you, the silence hanging heavy in the air.

“kyle…” you begin, your voice trembling as you take a step toward him. “say something, please.”

but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t turn around. the stillness is unbearable, his silence so intense it’s like a physical presence in the room. you feel your heart pounding in your chest, your stomach twisting into knots as you wait for him to react in some way—any way.

“kyle,” you try again, desperation creeping into your voice. “please, talk to me.”

still, nothing. he’s like a statue, immobile and eerily silent, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched at his sides. tears prick at your eyes as the guilt and fear overwhelm you. this isn’t how it was supposed to go. you wanted to push him, to see a different side of him, but now… now you just want him to speak, to tell you everything’s going to be okay.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you move closer to him. “i’m so, so sorry.”

finally, kyle turns to face you, his expression unreadable, his eyes dark and troubled. he’s still silent, his gaze piercing as he looks at you, waiting.

you can’t take it anymore. the words tumble out of you in a rush, your voice shaky and filled with regret. “i just wanted to rile you up. i wanted you to be rougher in bed, and i didn’t know how else to tell you. i thought if i pushed you, maybe you’d… i don’t know… take control or something.”

for a long moment, he just stares at you, and you feel yourself crumbling under the weight of his silence. then, finally, he speaks, his voice calm but laced with frustration. “you should’ve told me that. communicated instead of pulling this little stunt.”

his words cut through you, the calmness of his tone almost worse than if he’d yelled at you. there’s no anger, no shouting, just a quiet, controlled disappointment that makes you feel small.

“kyle, i didn’t—” you start, but he cuts you off with a shake of his head.

“you didn’t think,” he finishes for you, his voice still infuriatingly calm. “i get it, i do. but this? what you did? it wasn’t the way to go about it.”

you bite your lip, tears slipping down your cheeks. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean for it to go this far. i just didn’t know how to ask for what i wanted.”

he sighs, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his emotions in check. “you could’ve just asked,” he says softly. “i would’ve listened. i’m willing to try it for you, but not like this. not when you’re trying to push me into something i’m not prepared for.”

you nod, wiping at your eyes, feeling utterly ashamed of yourself. “i know. i was stupid, and i’m so, so sorry.”

kyle steps closer, his hands gentle as he cups your face, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “we’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, the tension easing slightly from his frame. “but you have to talk to me. no more games, alright?”

“alright,” you whisper, leaning into his touch, relieved beyond words that he’s still here, still willing to work through this with you.

he presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “i love you,” he says quietly, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice, the emotional toll this has taken on him.

“i love you too,” you reply, your voice thick with emotion as you cling to him, vowing to never put him—or yourself—through something like this again.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Acceptance

Sometimes, accepting that your past is yours is the hardest thing to do.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, this one's a little heavy, Hurt and comfort

Length: uuuuh 3k-ish.

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Considering he knew that you'd figure it out sooner rather than later, he's honestly a little surprised how much this is bothering him. Even years after everything happened, after all the work he's put into becoming more than just his past, it's still haunting him everywhere he goes.

Jungkook wanted to stay alone by pure choice. He doesn't want to give into some primal urges and get lost in it, to the point of morals and worth being thrown out the window. He knows that his kind- or at least, the kind his father cursed upon him with his partial genes- doesn't value emotional connections as much as other beings of the galaxy do. But still.

What that man did was unforgivable.

Jungkook doesn't remember his mother. He's sure he never met her- or maybe only as an infant, making him forget what she looked like. What he does know is that feeling of coldness he always received from his father- someone who should've raised him, or at least let the rest of the crew raise him. But that man would not let anyone care for him- Jungkook had to basically fight for his place, a place that wasn't even existing in the first place.

Nothing he could do would ever prove his worth to that man, because that man saw him as nothing but an accident. Something that should not have happened.

She was a great mother. Still is, even if Jungkook doesn't visit her much. She respects him, and his personal decisions- and that's more than he could ever ask for.

So, at the age of barely fourteen, he left the ship- with a bag of clothes and a bit of money from a crewmember, left alone on a planet near Cryon, where he met Seokjin and his mother. The young hybrid had instantly taken a liking to him, and after his mother learned of Jungkook's situation, she took him in- and willingly took on the role of a parental figure, no matter how much people looked at her oddly for her now two children that looked nothing like her.

But she cared for him.

For a long time, Jungkook had found comfort in his lifestyle. He wouldn't hurt anyone ever like he'd been hurt before, because he never attached himself to anyone or anything past friendliness. Jimin was an exception- but even he doesn't really get past his shell, never able to catch a glimpse of his heart.

And then came you.

You're nothing special. Just like his mother, you're a simple human being, cast aside with nowhere to go. And maybe that's why he wanted to shoot you so badly when he first saw you- because he took so much pity on you, that he felt like he'd be a worse person to let you live instead of giving you an end to your suffering. Humans are seen as nothing but greedy little parasites- they take and take and take and fight for nothing but their own self-worth.

And then you opened up. Every day you spent with him seemed to fuel your soul once more, charging up your will to live as you stopped trying to make him discard you at any given chance. And suddenly, he no longer saw the same victim as his mother once was in you- he saw someone. You're no longer just a being worth pity- you're you.

And he started to actually enjoy your company.

Especially after doing something like you did back with the vendor- you've proven yourself as someone that can and will decide what she wants to do. You didn't have to do this for him, and you know it, he knows that you know it. And he also knows that you didn't do it for him anyways, even if you think you did. Because you're basically defending your place in his life- on his ship.

And that's what scares him. That's what made him react like he did, yesterday.

You're not so easy to push around any longer. You're no longer someone who will just do as he says, and he wants that for you- you deserve your autonomy, you deserve to be able to make these decisions. But those things always come with a price.

And yes- maybe he's scared of you.

Because the longer you stay, the closer you get, the more it'll bug him or even hurt when you decide to move on from him. For years, Jungkook has feared hurting others- when in reality, he just got tired of being the one getting hurt. And now, with you in his life, it's already happening- because just sneaking a small glimpse at the security camera of your room shows you just quietly sitting on your bed, hugging your knees, waiting, thinking. And it hurts. He doesn't want you to be locked up like that. He wants you here, where he can see you, where you can talk, and where he can watch you knit your stupid little ball-shaped animals that you've hung everywhere at this point.

He likes them. Because they prove that you're actually here, that you're alive with him, and that you're not just wishful thinking.

His thumb runs over the little crooked horn of the goat you've knitted, that he's taken for himself now as it's attached to his keychain. He's been unkind and most of all unreasonable- but he doesn't know what to do now. You clearly want to stay, and it's also pretty obvious that you've found somewhat of an interest in him- and that terrifies him.

Because what if he does end up like him? What if he does fall into the same habits and behaviors as he did?

And how can he not, when you're already infesting his mind, without even doing anything at all?

He's forever branded as the 'accidental' son of a slave trader, a mistake that shouldn't have happened to begin with, and cost someone their life. He's no one you should associate with, let alone get involved with. You don't know who he is, what he is, and what kind of stigma he carries around. You've got no idea who you're currently traveling with, and maybe he needs to force you to face it.

Maybe if he shows you who he really is, you'll finally let him go.

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You're not too sure why you're so unable to just wait things out. He's clearly gotten upset yesterday, after you mentioned that you knew that he was partially human- but why?

There's no way he despises the entire human race- because he has been quite kind to you, even though he didn't have to be. Even his proposal of letting you stay with Seokjin instead of having to 'wait out' his whole… situation, was one of kindness. He could've just told you to stay in your room, but instead, he thought of a more comfortable alternative for you, despite the trouble of traveling and time cost.

So why did that rub him so wrongly when you mentioned it?

There's not much time to think about that however, as the door hisses open- causing you to hide under the blanket you previously had over your shoulders in a panic, the reaction almost instinctual. You can only feel the bed dip a little under his weight as he sits down on the edge of it, and when you peek out, you can see that he's not even looking at you. Instead, his hands are holding his keychain with your knitted little goat attached- fingers playing around with it in a nervous manner.

"My mother was a prostitute." He starts, voice low and without much emotion to it. "My father… enjoyed her services so much, that he bought her." He explains, and you slowly sit up, blanket falling from your head to rest on your shoulders instead. "Chances of.. pregnancy were low- considering she was human, and my father was not." Jungkook says, while you just watch him, not moving much.

"But it happened anyways."

You're watching him, staying right where you are- his back still turned towards you, while he continues to occupy himself with the little yarn toy you made. "I don't remember her. I only know that she died, at some point." He shrugs to himself. "Not like it matters. Neither of them thought of me as something other than an accident." He scoffs, and you feel the need to comfort him-

but you don't know how.

"So.. that's why you hate your human side?" You wonder, but he shakes his head.

"I don't hate it." He denies. "I just.. hate being reminded of what I am, I guess." Jungkook tries to explain. "I'm known as the son of a guy who knocked up a human prostitute. I'm a bastard who never lived up to his father's expectations." He growls mostly. "I'm nothing but a joke to most people who know my father. And you'll be nothing but a joke either, if you continue to travel with me." He turns towards you, looking over his shoulder at your knees- unable to quite face you fully.

"You're Jungkook." You say, and he freezes- before he slowly let's his eyes travel upwards to your face, eyes swirling colors, emotions unsure.

"..what?" He breathes out, genuinely unsure. He knows who he is. What the hell do you mean by that?

"You're Jungkook." You repeat, shrugging. "You're a shipcaptain. A vendor. Traveler." You start to count, and his irises start to change- slowly seemingly settling into a soft, warm hazel- timid, but appreciative almost.

Looking up the meanings of colors in your free time is really starting to pay off.

"You're not your father. Or your mother." You shake your head. "Neither will you be like your children, if you ever have some. I'm not like my parents either, and neither is anyone else." You explain. "We're all just in control of ourselves. The only life I have any control over is my own, and the only life you have control over is yours." You tell him, slowly moving a bit closer as he leans his head down to look at the floor again. "You can't change your past. You can't erase it either."

"So I'm just cursed with it." He scoffs at no one.

"Just as long as you don't accept it." You shrug next to him, your legs now dangling off the edge of the bed, bare feet swinging back and forth next to his boots which are firmly planted on the floor. "The moment you accept that that's a part of you, you can move on. Because you maybe can't change your past-" You say, bumping your shoulder into his side to lift the mood a little. "-but you can control your future."

"What's the point if no one cares about anything but that?" He argues, eyes a grim grey color. "It doesn't matter. I don't want you to be stuck with.. a label like that too." He shakes his head.

"I'm not like you though." You huff, crossing your arms, making him look at you. "I don't care."

"You don't care that people will think I'm just doing the same thing he did?" He challenges, looking at you with a fiery gaze. This is not going according to his plan. "You're telling me you don't give a shit about the fact that everyone who knows him, will see you and immediately think of you as nothing but a sex slave?" he argues, standing up to instead stand in front of you, hands pushing into the mattress right next to your thighs, face only inches from yours. "You don't get to lie to me and say that you don't care about that." He growls. "I don't accept you sitting here, trying to convince me that you won't mind being known as the human plaything of the bastard who couldn't even earn his spot in the crew of a slave trader." He growls.

"I don't mind." You answer, summoning all of your confidence not to flinch, even with his angry red gaze on you, noses almost touching.

"Why." He quietly sneers, clearly agitated. "How can you not care?!" He barks at you, and you do lean back a tiny bit at that- heart beating a bit faster from the sheer force of his emotions.

"If a tree falls down in the woods and no one's around to hear it, does it make a sound?" you ask, and it's almost comical how his eyes flash a surprised white, entire body flinching back in confusion. "It's a saying on earth." You explain. "If you don't take a picture of a sunset, was it really as pretty as you remember?" You ask, and he seems entirely caught off guard.

"I don't.. understand." He admits. You giggle.

"Me calling you a bird doesn't make you one." You explain with a smile. And that, seems to click with him, as he looks at you with what you can only describe as genuine surprise. As if he's never really.. thought about it like that.

And then, you lean forward- arms pulling him closer, as you rest your head against his shoulder, holding him for a good moment.

Something he simply lets happen, because you're right.

He is in control of his life.

"I'm scared of you." He confesses, and you're a bit surprised, letting go of him as he stands upright again, arms crossed, eyes a pinkish hue.

"huh?" You ask, unsure what he's talking about.

"I.. enjoy your company." He admits. "I want you to stay. But at the same time, I want you to stay away from me." He tells you.

"..why?" You wonder, his words not making any sense.

"Because you can hurt me." He explains. "Maybe not physically- but emotionally."

"…oh." You realize what he's talking about, and now it's you who's looking away. "I mean.. uh.. I mean you're really handsome, don't get me wrong! But-" You stammer, a little bashful now. And the worst thing is that now, he seems oddly confident again- as if that was all he needed to connect the dots that you're not the only one developing deeper interest in the other.

"Handsome, huh?" He comments, arms crossed, gaze playfully pink.

"I uh- yeah? But uhm.. I mean, you know.. we're kind of just starting to really talk, so.." You mumble, looking away now. What the hell? Since when are you this shy? And how have you not noticed him not even wearing his usual uniform jacket? Those tattoos fill up his entire arm-

"That we do." He nods, feeling oddly light now that he's.. talked about this, to anyone. "And I'd.. like to continue to talk to you." He offers, making you look up at him again.

And somehow, you can read the message he's actually trying to tell you, between the lines of those words.

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You're putting a bag on the free spot near his control station, causing him to look at you with a questioning gaze.

You've both agreed on a few rules now that you're staying during his.. well, mating season issue. One of them is to keep physical contact to a minimum, and other general rules are to leave him alone if he asks you to, or to take some time to wake up before walking into the command central- though you're not sure what that one's about. It's all stuff you can follow easily though- especially if it makes him more comfortable being around you. "what's this?" He wonders, opening the bag, finding multiple, small yarn animals inside.

"I'm being productive!" You exclaim proudly. "Maybe we could sell them at our next stop? I'm sure someone has like.. maybe a currency or two left over to pay for one of them." You propose, but much to your surprise, he seems rather conflicted over it, pulling one out to inspect. It's a mouse, black bead eyes staring at him. "You don't think so?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"No, it's not that.." He mumbles. "But.. you don't have to earn money." He tells you.

"I know. But I want to." You explain yourself. "And, the ship is already full of them. We can sell those too-" You say, reaching for a short snake hanging from a screw slightly poking out the metal casing of the control screen, when he reaches out first, snatching it almost protectively away from you first.

"No-!" He barks, looking around with a sharp, cautiously yellow gaze. "…those can stay." He clears his throat, hanging the little knitted animal back where it was, adjusting it's position so it faces him. "We're not going to land anywhere within the next few weeks anyways. We'll fuel at outposts instead." He tries to justify.

"Jungkook.. we can't hoard all of them here." You giggle, and he looks to the side at that, clearly feeling called out.

"..I'm not hoarding them. I'm just saying you don't have to.. work, or anything like that." He argues back, trying to occupy himself with the control panel.

"I know. But, with the money I get from maybe selling them, I could buy more yarn or something." You shrug, sitting on one of the nearby server boxes.

"..what's wrong with me buying it for you?" He growls a bit offended, jaw clenched. You know this is probably just his hormones making him act like that, but it's still a little funny to tease him.

"Nothing!" You laugh. "I just wanna be independent. Earn my spot." You explain.

"You don't have to earn shit." He denies, tapping away on the touch panel in front of him. "...but I guess if you want to. Don't need my permission anyways." He huffs annoyed, making you laugh as you look at him almost pout to himself, trying to appear all busy when in reality, you know that the course he's flying is a safe route the autopilot has flown numerous times before.

"Hey Jungkook?" You ask, and he looks up at that, showing you his attention has been caught. "I like you." You say, and the look on his face is quite literally the most hilarious and wholesome thing you've ever seen -

Eyes wide open, round and filled with a shy blue, before it melts into pink, seconds until he closes them, and holds a hand in front of them to shield himself.

"Timeout, you demon!" He barks out, opening the main door for you. "Get out!" He yells, though it's clear that he doesn't mean it in an evil or genuinely upset manner.

Because even though you do as he says, laughing on your way to your room, he does later check in to make sure he's not actually mad at you- though it's rather sent as a text message on the control screen in your room, instead of spoken words.

Small steps, you think to yourself. Small steps.

[zapreportsblog]

↱ unexpected attractions ↰

➘ summary : pro hero hawks finds himself infatuated with a young woman he sees out when patrolling one day

➘ Hawks x reader, Bnha x reader, Keigo Takami x reader

The city of Musutafu bustled with activity, its streets illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights as dusk settled over the horizon. High above, the crimson feathers of the Pro Hero Hawks fluttered gracefully, his keen eyes scanning the cityscape for any signs of trouble. It was just another routine patrol for him, keeping the citizens safe and maintaining the peace.

As he glided through the skies, Hawks noticed a group of civilians huddled around a street vendor, their laughter and chatter drifting upward. Curiosity piqued, he descended with a graceful arc, landing near the bustling crowd. Peering down, his sharp gaze fell upon a young woman, her (h/c) hair caught in the gentle breeze as she conversed with the vendor.

"(Y/N)," the name slipped through the vendor's lips, and Hawks felt an inexplicable tug at his heartstrings. His red eyes lingered on her, captivated by her presence. She seemed to possess an air of innocence and warmth, drawing people to her effortlessly.

Unable to resist, Hawks cleared his throat and approached, his wings folding elegantly behind him. "(Y/N), huh?" he echoed, a charming smile curving his lips as he joined the conversation. The woman looked up at him, her (e/c) eyes meeting his fiery gaze.

"Oh, hi," she greeted, offering a friendly smile. "You must be a Pro Hero, right? I've heard about you. I'm (Y/N). Nice to meet you."

Hawks nodded, his heart racing slightly as he admired the way her smile lit up her face. "The pleasure's mine. Just Hawks will do." He extended a gloved hand towards her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"(Y/N)," she repeated, a soft blush coloring her cheeks as she shook his hand. "I've seen you on TV. Your wings are incredible."

He chuckled, an almost boyish excitement bubbling within him. "Thanks. They're handy, I guess."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, Hawks finding himself hanging onto her every word. He learned about her passions, her dreams, and her love for the city. The more he discovered, the deeper he found himself falling under her spell. There was something about her that ignited a fire within him, a desire to be near her, to protect her.

Time seemed to slip away unnoticed, the two of them engrossed in each other's company. Hawks laughed at her jokes, and she blushed at his compliments. The city's noises faded into the background as their connection deepened, creating a world of their own.

As the night wore on, Hawks realized he had never felt this way before. This wasn't just admiration for a fellow citizen; it was an infatuation, a longing that he couldn't explain. He couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to keep her close, to ensure her safety at all costs.

"I hate to cut our chat short," Hawks said reluctantly, his heart heavy at the thought of leaving her side. "But duty calls. I need to get back to patrolling."

(Y/N) nodded understandingly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Of course. Stay safe out there, Hawks."

He gave her a charming grin, his wings flexing instinctively as he prepared to take to the skies. "Don't worry about me. And hey, maybe we'll bump into each other again."

As Hawks soared back into the night sky, his thoughts were consumed by the young woman he had just met. He couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was more than just chance—it was the beginning of something inexplicable, a pull that he couldn't resist.

Little did he know, this chance meeting would mark the start of a profound and tumultuous journey, intertwining their fates in ways neither of them could have foreseen.

Days turned into weeks, and Hawks found himself patrolling the city more frequently than ever before, his eyes constantly scanning the crowds below for a glimpse of (Y/N). He couldn't deny the growing infatuation he felt for her, the way his heart quickened every time her name crossed his mind.

One evening, while perched atop a high-rise building, Hawks caught sight of (Y/N) once again. She was walking along the bustling streets, her presence seemingly radiant even in the midst of the city's chaos. Without hesitation, he spread his crimson wings and descended, landing gracefully before her.

"(Y/N)," he greeted with a warmth in his voice that he hadn't felt in years. His heart raced as her eyes met his, her surprise mirrored in the subtle widening of her (e/c) orbs.

"Hawks," she replied, a mixture of astonishment and delight evident in her tone. "Fancy running into you again."

He chuckled, a touch of nervousness dancing beneath his confident exterior. "It's funny how fate works sometimes."

As they chatted, Hawks discovered more about (Y/N)'s daily life—the way she worked tirelessly to support her family and the kindness she extended to strangers on the street. His admiration for her only grew, solidifying into something that was undeniably affectionate.

As the weeks turned into months, their encounters became more frequent, and Hawks found himself drawn to (Y/N) like a moth to a flame. He'd fly by her workplace, stopping for a quick chat, or they'd meet during his patrols. Their conversations deepened, revealing their hopes, fears, and dreams.

One evening, after rescuing civilians from a massive fire, Hawks landed near (Y/N)'s apartment building. Smoke still lingered in the air, and he was covered in soot and sweat. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to pay her a visit.

(Y/N) opened the door, her eyes widening at the sight of him in his disheveled state. "Hawks, you're... you're a mess."

He chuckled, a wry smile on his lips. "Yeah, well, saving lives doesn't always come with looking presentable."

She stepped aside, inviting him in. "Come on in. I'll get you some water."

As he sat in her living room, Hawks couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in her presence. Her apartment was cozy and welcoming, reflecting her personality perfectly. He watched as she bustled around the kitchen, his heart warming at the simple domesticity of the scene.

"(Y/N)," he began, his voice a bit more hesitant than usual. "I... I've really enjoyed spending time with you."

She turned to face him, handing him a glass of water. "Likewise, Hawks. You're not like other heroes I've met. You're different, in a good way."

Hawks felt a rush of emotions flood over him—gratitude, affection, and a hint of uncertainty. He knew that he was treading on dangerous territory, that his feelings for her were becoming stronger by the day. But he couldn't help himself; he was drawn to her in a way that he couldn't explain.

As the night wore on, the two of them shared stories and laughter, their connection deepening even further. Hawks found himself opening up about his life as a hero, the challenges he faced, and the expectations placed upon him. (Y/N) listened with empathy, offering a level of understanding that he had never encountered before.

As he left her apartment that night, Hawks realized that he was falling in love—a realization that both exhilarated and terrified him. He was a Pro Hero, someone who was supposed to be above such vulnerabilities. Yet, in (Y/N)'s presence, he felt human, and that was both a blessing and a curse.

Little did he know, his growing affection for (Y/N) would lead him down a path he never could have predicted, setting into motion events that would challenge his identity, his loyalties, and the very nature of his existence as a hero.

As the days went on and weeks came and go, Hawks found it increasingly difficult to control his emotions. (Y/N) had become a constant presence in his thoughts, a flickering flame that grew brighter with each passing moment. He couldn't ignore the growing obsession that consumed his mind, consuming him within its fiery grip.

Everything about (Y/N) became magnified in Hawks' eyes. Her every action, every word, and every smile held an unparalleled significance. He analyzed her every move, searching for hidden meanings and deciphering her thoughts. In his mind, she was no longer just a person; she was his mate, his one true connection in this chaotic world.

Hawks began to subtly alter his daily routine to ensure their paths crossed more often. He started tracking her movements, gathering information about her schedule, and arranging coincidental encounters. It was an orchestrated dance of obsession, with Hawks pulling the strings, and (Y/N) unknowingly dancing to his tune.

He meticulously collected mementos from their brief encounters: a fallen strand of hair, a discarded coffee cup, even a forgotten pencil. These mundane treasures held an inexplicable power over him, making his heart race with anticipation. They became his precious possessions, his connection to (Y/N), and his reassurance that their fates were intertwined.

In his quest to be closer to her, Hawks routes as (Y/N) and even went to the same places she would visit frequently. He seamlessly integrated himself into her world, earning her trust and admiration. But this was only the beginning. His obsession demanded more; it demanded absolute possession.

Hawks began to indulge in his darker desires, feeding the flames of his twisted infatuation. His urge to protect her turned into an insatiable need to control her every move. He meticulously hacked into her social media accounts, devoured the digital remnants of her life, and analyzed every interaction she had. Every notification, every message became evidence of her existence.

Late at night, in the cold depths of his secret room, Hawks poured over pictures and videos of (Y/N), his eyes shining with anticipation and possessiveness. It was a dangerous game he played, fueling his obsession with every glimpse of her smile, every hint of vulnerability she unknowingly revealed.

His obsession grew as he yearned for their worlds to merge entirely. He envisioned a future where (Y/N) belonged solely to him, where he could protect her from all harm and cherish her without judgment. In his delusional fantasies, he was the savior, the one who would provide the love and security she lacked.

However, deep down, Hawks sensed the fragile line he was treading. He understood the danger that lurked within his obsession, threatening to consume him completely. Yet, he couldn't resist the gravitational pull he felt towards (Y/N). His heart and mind were irreversibly entangled with hers, and he was unwilling to let go.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Hawks's love had transformed into something far more sinister. His obsession had become his reason for existence, fueling his every action and decision. It was a dark path he walked, driven by the overwhelming desire to possess what he believed was rightfully his.

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit Part Four on AO3

Contents

Bearshifter!Price x reader | explicit

John's eyes shift around the small distillery office, as if he somehow missed Simon lurking behind the door (he may have. Silent as the grave, that one) before he gives into the urge to tap the number at the top of his screen, letting his touch linger as he adds the contact. Even this - even just this - makes his tongue feel heavy in his mouth, his palms big and clumsy. He wants to lick his phone, is pissed when he can't smell her. It feels like snuffling for mushrooms and finding only arid dust and dirt. It is so much more than he had even just an hour ago, but it is not enough.

Note: a lot of this chapter is texting which I struggled to format on Tumblr's goddawful limited HTML. I've opted to display them as chats, but because Reader chapters are second person, I didn't want John's texts to appear as if they are coming from 'you.' So apparently he has himself saved on his phone as 'Price.' Bear with me. Do definitely recommend reading on AO3, it just looks a little better. okay anyway, hope you enjoy!

Unknown Number

Unknown number: Good morning. Thanks for last night, I had a lot of fun!

Unknown number: Also, wanted to ask, as a seasonal local and therefore, I assume, an expert in local fauna, would you say this bear is insanely big or is that normal?

John smirks at the attached photo of himself, docile and friendly as he stares blankly back at the camera; big stupid animal eyes deceptively sweet. It had been hard to behave in that form, but it had been a cold night and he'd wanted to be sure she wasn't frozen stiff in her pathetic little den. He was coming to hate that thing, simultaneously teasing him with its threateningly mobile nature and infuriatingly abysmal quality. He wanted to bring her back to his own den, bury her in thick, warm blankets. Maybe tie her to the posts so he could sleep easy knowing she wasn't going to slip away the moment he closed his eyes. But he couldn't (yet), so he stalks her in his animal form and tells himself it's for her own good and he's satisfied with that.

But now.

Now.

John's eyes shift around the small distillery office, as if he somehow missed Simon lurking behind the door (he may have. Silent as the grave, that one) before he gives into the urge to tap the number at the top of his screen, letting his touch linger as he adds the contact. Even this - even just this - makes his tongue feel heavy in his mouth, his palms big and clumsy. He wants to lick his phone, is pissed when he can't smell her. It feels like snuffling for mushrooms and finding only arid dust and dirt. It is so much more than he had even just an hour ago, but it is not enough.

Bunny: Also is it normal that it just chilled in the parking lot all morning, or should I maybe be worried it's rabid?

Price: Never seen a grizzly that close before so I'm not sure, but I think that's a big one! That's awesome.

Probably not rabid. Some of them have gotten a little too comfortable with humans. Good thing you were in your car, though!

And then, because he's greedy:

Price: Hiking this morning?

Bunny: Well, not anymore 😂

John is antsy, whole body restless. He wants to shift into his other form, or maybe pull a tooth out of his head. He's not hard, but the urge to stroke his cock is there regardless, an ingrained stress relief that won't help him here, he knows. Not without her, at least.

Bunny: What are you up to today?

He wants to spend all day deciding if he likes her better as a fleshlight or a chew toy. Unfortunately…

Price: Interviews all morning and then meeting with a potential vendor later. Boring shite.

Price: You?

Bunny: Probably just reading or something. Boring shit.

He imagines her cozied up in her cute little den: soft, worn quilts and a soft, warm girl. He wants to crawl in with her, change the chemical makeup of the very air until she has to breath him in, too; let her deal with the torture of his scent same as he's done for her. His fingers are heavy on his screen again. He hopes she's kept his coaster. He hopes he's tainting her phone. He hopes the aggression with which he's digging his big greedy claws into her life is enough to make her stay.

Price: Sounds lovely.

Price: Trade you?

Bunny: Haha! Sure, I can definitely handle vendor meetings. No problem.

Price: Cute thing like you, I'm sure you'd be a natural.

Bunny: Well if that's all it takes, I'm sure you'll do great 😉

John can't help the happy chuff that escapes him. It's not an entirely human sound but he doesn't particularly care if Simon is lurking right this moment.

Price: Thanks, honey.

Price: What are you doing tomorrow?

Bunny: Hmm. Don't know. You tell me?

Price: Let's square up, yeah? Get you that coffee.

Price: There's a place over on Nucleus that's pretty good.

Bunny: Sounds great! What time?

Price: Early okay? I'll have to be back to work by 1400

Bunny: Sure. 10?

Price: See you then, bunny.

He finds Simon in the brewery. John held off investing in the equipment for years, refusing to tank the 141 just because Americans thought IPAs were good beers. Blessedly, the last year or so had shown people coming to their senses, ordering porters, lagers, and shandies more often than not. Simon had been elated (or rather, quite stoic but the mask had raised about a half inch on his face which meant the cheeks underneath were slightly dimpled) and had been obsessively perfecting a house ale ever since.

"Need you to take the lunch shift tomorrow." John would feel bad for the last minute schedule change if it were anyone else, but Simon doesn't really have a life outside of work or the gym, so he can deal.

As predicted, Simon just nods in acceptance. "Coffee?"

"Affirm. Also want you to sit in on the barkeep interview."

That gets a rise. "Why?"

"Distracted," John shrugs.

Simon's sigh is a full body thing. "This better not become a normal thing."

"I'll keep it in mind. Thirteen hundred, corner booth reservation." John may take some small pleasure in the other man's grunt of acknowledgement.

***

John hires the first three interviewees on the spot. One's a wait staff vet who he's confident can handle her own on the floor. The other two are young but seem competent and need to start their careers somewhere. Between them and his returning staff, he feels confident in the floor team but with Gaz back in uni, he needs a new barkeep which could make or break their season. They'll get tourists either way, but John prides himself on being one of the few seasonal shops that attracts a fair amount of locals which he knows he owes to Gaz's amiable and experienced presence. Without him, John's anxious to pick a suitable replacement, especially if he'll be busy wooing a mate all season.

He's prescreened a fair few, but only scheduled two interviews. He's hoping he'll be able to call the other lady tonight to tell her no need. It's a dick move but he's busy. Besides, she's very professional and he's confident she'll get another position soon - she's just a little too serious for his place.

Simon comes in through the kitchen and slides into the booth ahead of schedule. John is still waiting by the entry to let the man in when he shows up. The two men nod in greeting.

"Wot's the bloke's name, then?" Simon asks after a few moments.

"John MacTavish. Said to call him Soap."

"That's stupid." A pause while Simon's fingers thud against his phone screen. "'e a Scott?"

John isn't sure how Simon can always find people's social media, given he doesn't have any of his own. "Problem?"

"Not so long as he speaks the King's. How'd you manage to find another Brit anyway?"

"At this point I think they're finding me."

As if on queue, John spots the man in question ambling down the sidewalk. He's larger than John had expected, not quite as tall as John himself but decently muscled. Sharp blue eyes and a confident, charming grin. And a fucking mohawk of all things. His first instinct, oddly, is to keep this man away from his bunny, but close on its heels is the urge to make Simon deal with this smarmy bastard every day and he can't quite fight the grin creeping onto his face as he unlocks the door for the man.

Thankfully, Soap seems to take it for a welcoming smile, which he returns brightly as he extends a hand in greeting. "Price, I assume? Good to meet ye."

"Likewise, always nice to put a face to a name." John locks the door behind them again and ushers Soap to the big booth with a practiced, 'Please, step into my office.'

Simon, predictably, does not rise to greet the interviewee, instead choosing to stare Soap down balefully without so much as a nod of acknowledgement.

"Soap, my head brewer, Simon. Simon, this is John MacTavish."

To John's surprise - and, apparently, more so to Simon's surprise (which is a whole new surprise in itself because Simon is never caught off guard) - Soap slides into the opposite booth and extends his hand to Simon in one smooth move, face the very image of 'I see what you're doing here but I'm not entertaining it so play nice.'

Simon continues to stare for a beat longer, two, before accepting Soap's hand in a singular, gruff, suitably manly shake. When they separate, Soap is grinning like an idiot as he informs Simon about his preferred nickname.

"Not calling you that."

Soap shrugs, completely unaffected. "Well, 'bout to get real confusin' in here, then," he smiles at John.

"No worries, he calls me captain."

"Only when you've earned it." Despite the words, the insult is clear enough that even Soap smirks conspiratorially, eager to be let in on the joke.

John allows some more banter. It's useful in that it draws both the other men out of their respective shells. Simon becomes ever so slightly more professional, while Soap becomes quite a bit less. It's good, though, to see him relaxed in this space. This is the side that John had wanted to see, considering this is the side the customers would be dealing with. It's a good fit, and he's already feeling confident in his choice when they move onto drink choices. He knows he's got his man when Simon nods exactly once at an answer regarding crawfish of all things.

There's more handshakes, promises to be in touch. John locks up behind Soap and turns to find Simon staring after the man. "Well?"

Simon shrugs. "'e'll do."

John nods, eyes his right hand man critically. He knows Simon well enough to spot the difference between natural and affected stoicism. "We planning on selling crawfish this year?"

Simon shrugs again. An obvious tell; the man doesn't make inefficient movements more than twice an hour. "Wanted to stump him." John waits for him to elaborate, a venture he would lose any other day but… "'e's solid."

Well. He'd hoped the Scott would rile Simon's temper, but this might be better.

"Settled, then. I'll have him start next week."

Whether or not this pleases Simon, he doesn't say, simply turns and walks back out through the kitchen. Sighing, John checks the time and is glad to find he's running right on schedule, but upset there are no text notifications. It's probably unreasonable considering she only just gave him her number this morning, but good mates check in on each other and the lack of questions about his interviews leaves him a bit bereft. Still, he follows her lead and pockets his phone without sending any prompts of his own. It's difficult to keep his human suit on whenever she's involved, but he doesn't want to scare her away so he'll behave, even if it makes him want to eat a whole beehive, stingers and all.

***

The trip out to Whitefish is easy enough. John drives the company van to look more professional, but the smell bothers him and he's slightly agitated the whole meeting. The woman doesn't seem to mind. He's fairly certain she's flirting. It would probably be in his best interest to return fire a bit, but the thought makes his stomach roll and his teeth clench. In the end it doesn't really matter. They set up a small supply and she asks if he'd be interested in them featuring one of the blends in a house special. Bourbon ginger with orange. Very basic but the blend she chooses for it isn't right and it's a struggle not to bite her head off over it. He gives his input and she accepts which appeases him, but as he's leaving she winks and asks if he'd like to stay and give the drink a taste test. The rumbling noise he makes at that is a growl, technically, but he plays it off like a groan. Which isn't much better, probably, but at least it's human.

"No thanks. Gotta make it back for the dinner rush."

"Your place, then?" She's smirking, proud of herself. She smells like cleaning supplies.

It's out before he can think about it, "Sure, if you'd like to meet the missus."

The vendor splutters, surreptitiously inspects his hand. "I - I'm so sorry, I didn't realize -."

"Unofficial," Price quickly recovers. "Still committed." Christ, they haven't even been on a date yet, he needs to get his bloody act together.

"Well. She's a very lucky woman," the vendor simpers and John tries not to snort as he collects his things. Yeah, lucky rabbit, caught in his jowls while he assesses exactly how hard he can squeeze without losing her.

Attempting a warm smile, John thanks her for her time and hurries out the door. In the van, he checks his phone and scowls when his rabbit still hasn't initiated a conversation. He can't help it this time, shoots her something about the meeting with the vendor going well but he'd still rather have traded places. He doesn't take it personally when she doesn't respond right away, and then very much does take it personally when she still hasn't responded by the time he returns to the bar. He's surprised to find it open, Simon scowling at him from behind the counter. "You're late," the man accuses and John just smirks at him.

"And you still opened on time?" Simon doesn't react. Unfortunately, the alone time seems to have done him good. Still, John tries a little harder because he's antsy and wants a rise out of someone. "Angling for a good review?"

Not even so much as a 'well someone has to care about this place.' Damn.

"You staying on in the kitchen or heading out?"

"Seen enough of this place," Simon grumbles and slips out the back.

John spends a long boring shift talking with a pair of locals about fishing. He doesn't really go fishing in this form, but he knows his fair share about where to find what fish. It's the quiet sort of night he would have savored even just a few weeks ago, but every hour that goes by without a response from his rabbit has him growing more and more restless. He's not worried about her deciding to hike even with that bear around, of course, but there are plenty of other fates that could have befallen her. Poor rabbit, alone in the woods. Even her den was a dangerous thing, prone to crashes and gas poisoning depending on how she kept it heated. Or worse, if she kept it heated. He swears to all that's holy if he ends up losing her to hypothermia even though he's big and furry and feverish and right bloody here, he's going to lose it.

It's late when she finally deigns to respond. Like, 2300 late. He can't decide if he's more relieved or annoyed so he chooses to be excited instead.

Bunny

Price: For the record, I did win over the vendor.

Price: Still wish I could've been doing boring shite like reading all day.

Bunny: I never doubted you

Bunny: Howd the interview go?

Price: Good. Got some new waitstaff. Happy with the bartender.

Price: How'd not-hiking go?

Bunny: Boring as predicted. Put a good dent in this blanket though!

She sends a photo of a beautiful crocheted blanket, the rows zigzagging in a strange psychedelic pattern which is toned down by the easy earthy tones she's chosen.

Good mate, staying warm. Now all she needs is someone to snuggle up with.

Price: You made that?

Price: That's brilliant.

Bunny: Thank you! 😁

Bunny: I'm about to go cuddle up under it though so goodnight! Glad everything went well today

Bunny: I'll see you tomorrow

Price: Sleep well honey.

Next>>

[jamiedc-they-them]

Good People - Part II: Do Unto Others (Platonic)

Part 1 is here!

NOTE: Once again, this series (maybe? if people like it and their dynamic?) will be shorter pieces around certain scenes rather than full episodes. Kind of like summaries with specific lil bits with the main focus being Lucy and Y/N's friendship. Enjoy!

Chapter Summary: You take Lucy to Filly. A gunfight ensues. Lucy surprises you with loyalty.

"I thought I'd have to marry my Cousin," Lucy tells you as you both start to leave the desert and enter a forest area.

"...Uh...Ok?" you say, not really sure how to react to the information your new friend has just given you.

"Is that not...is that now how things are done up here? What about the survival of the Human Race?"

You snort, helping her over a log, "Don't think that's the thing on a lot of people's minds."

"How so?" she asks, genuinley confused.

"More so just concerned about the whole, survival of the self, type thing."

"That's understandable. Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"I won't."

"No, I meant like, ask me. 'Sure, go ahead.'"

"Oh. Sorry. Still getting used to the lingo out here."

You snort again, "ain't too much to learn. And, you're fine, wasn't the worse miscommunication."

She nods, smile on her face, "okey dokey."

You keep walking on, passing two people. You move out of their way, but Lucy gives them a friendly greeting. Nothing comes of it, but you still find yourself leaning in close to her - and accidentally making her jump as she didn't see that you had stopped - and saying to her, "try not to do that in general when out, ok? In towns? Maybe, especially with your quest. But out here," you move your finger in a circular motion, "don't."

"Can I ask why? Nothing bad happened," you partly pity and find her innocence kind of endearing.

"Just...this time it didn't go bad. It might not next time."

"Sorry."

"Don't - don't be sorry," you say, finding your guard going down a bit at her genuine apology, "just...lessons learnt, right?"

She nods, enthusiastically, "yes. One hundo percento!"

You shake your head, "alrighty then. Onward to Filly."

Filly wasn't a bad town. It had all sorts of life in it, not all nice mind, and a certain charm with the environment it laid in. It was also what led you to realise that, for most of your time surviving, you had spent it wandering in circles essentially, with you almost always ending up back here and some point.

Lucy moves between two people, reaching out and grabbing your hand to make sure you don't get lost. She tightens it a bit as you look back at the two people as they look at Lucy, discussing to themselves about the Vault Dweller.

"Y/N, come on," she says, tugging on your hand, "no need to start a fight."

Your hand unfurls from the fist it was in.

You nod at her, she nods back.

A vendor tries to get her to try some meat; she tries to find information on her dad; the vendor just goes back to selling meat.

"Move on. Come on. Don't wanna get trapped here," you say, trying to usher Lucy along.

"But he might --" Lucy protests.

"Trust me?" you ask, attempting to just keep her moving.

Yet --

"I do," Lucy says.

It makes you both pause.

"What?" she asks, genuinley confused.

"That quick, huh?"

She nods, now moving of her own volition.

"Like I said, good judge of character."

She walks on a bit, as you stay put.

"Huh," you say. You'd never been told that before. A snake, sure. Or some other bad word. But never someone to be trusted. Sounded foreign to you.

Still, it made you have a slight spring in your step - or as much as you could, given your current predicament.

Lucy looks in wonder at the place, "Wow-wee!" she says.

"Not a bad looker, is it? End of the world really brings out the creativity in people."

"I didn't expect this, for sure," she admits. Maybe it's her honesty, the ability to have her guard almost always be down, that makes you admire her a bit more. She trusts easily. It shakes you a bit, how quickly she both did that and gave you her water. Things like that are worth gold out here. And yet she gave it to you freely.

She's the one with that dart gun, and yet you find yourself being more of the protector. She accidentally barges shoulder with someone, and apologises. The man, a towering figure, looks her up and down. You stand between them, until his friend hits him as well.

"They might have something for you," you say, nodding to the shop, "I'll stay with you until you find something here. Then, let you be on your way."

"Wait, you aren't coming with me to my dad?" she asks, saddened.

"I mean, I didn't think so? If she has something, then you know where to go. I told you the golden rule: don't fuck with people, and they won't with you. About all you need to know really. That, and you got that," you nod to her weapon, "so you should be ok."

"'Should'?"

You sigh, running a hand on your face. You feel off, "yeah. I mean, I know you said about your vault and all, but that life is too good for someone like me."

"That's not true," she says, hurt on your behalf.

You hold a hand up, "look, we'll talk after, ok? You just go in first, see if she knows anything, then go from there, ok?"

She nods, mood dampened a little. She goes in; you sit in a chair, coughing a few times as you do. You don't know if it's the heat, or what, but something is dragging you down. You just hope it's not this infection. That would be an embarrassing way to go.

Time ticks by, before she leaves, face looking depressed.

"What happened?" you ask. But you don't get an answer, instead, she pauses, looking to a man with glasses.

He warns her about going back to her vault. That it isn't safe here. You chuckle, a dry one but still, he's hit the nail on the head.

He then surprises you both, he tells her facts about her vault: their primary crop is corn; there is a telesonic projector in your farm; it loops images of the Nebraskan countryside; meritocracy - whatever that means - something about the right thing apparently.

You miss the rest, and jolt at a hand on your shoulder. It's Lucy, who is looking at you in concern. She says something, looks away from you, but the voices overlap until -

"It's ok," Lucy says, softly. You look, and see the man she was talking to, a doctor - round glasses, a kind smile on his aged face, "he's a doctor."

"I don't have many - or any tools," he says, looking apologetic.

You wave him off, "not like I have many - or any caps."

He chuckles, leaning down a bit to look at you, "I think, in your condition, I can make an exception," you chuckle a bit this time - it instantly goes into a cough, "let's have a look at you," he reaches out, and you recoil, "to help, I will need to touch."

You seem to forget Lucy had previously held your hand and you had felt nothing of it, but you flinch when even she touches you and puts a hand on your knee.

"Y/N, this is the only way to help you," she insists, "you helped me get here. And, to be honest, I don't really want to leave you in this condition."

You look at her pleading eyes. She's only known you for an hour, tops, and yet she wants the genuine best for you.

You've been looked at like that before, it didn't end well. Friendships never did.

Still, you find yourself nodding. The doctor is gentle with his touch, looking at your scratches.

"I believe it is this one," he says, gesturing to one on your torn trousers being exposed to everything.

"Someone urinated on it," Lucy says.

The doctor looks to you, you confirm it, "ah, then this is what may of caused the infection. Either that, or general exposure to wasteland itself. How long have you had this wound?"

"I honestly do not know."

The doctor nods, stands, and readjusts his glasses, "I will try find you a Stimpack inside, and see if that helps your pain."

The woman from inside the shop comes out, and helps the doctor 'Wilzig' inside. Lucy helps you up. However, before anything else can happen, a Ghoul stands up, calling out to him.

Wilzig's leg is blown off. There's a tense moment, before bullets start flying. A stray bullet catches you on the shoulder. You stumble into the store. You look for a weapon, anything to help keep yourself and Lucy alive as the gunshots keep flying.

"Y/N. Y/N!" Lucy says, making sure not to touch you, but close enough to catch you if you fall, "you can't fight like this! You need to hide!"

"I ain't hiding!" you say, memories of a previous failure flashing in your mind, "not with that monster outside."

"I'll deal with him."

"With that little piss shooter?!" you snap, adrenaline pushing you at this point. A couple more coughs leave you.

"Look, you can't help like this, ok?" she says, taking her weapon out. And, despite your own circumstances, you can see clearly that it's drugs loaded into the thing - it'll do nothing here, "I will solve this as peacefully as I can, ok."

"That really ain't a good idea -"

"Trust me, Y/N. Ok? Golden rule. I have mine and you have yours. Right now, I'm gonna use mine, but if it goes bad, I'll use yours and this."

You can't even stop her as she goes outside.

The Ghoul seems almost annoyed at this whole thing. But, before he can shoot Lucy, a Brotherhood member appears in a suit, and blocks shots aimed for Lucy as they both come through the wall.

With the distraction, you take your moment. You don't have a gone, but you may as well...help. The good doctor helped you after all.

With Lucy and the shop owner's help, you pull Wilzig inside. They sit him down on a seat, as your wounds get to you. You stumble.

Lucy, in an instant, catches you and puts you on your own seat.

"Holy moly," Lucy says, looking at your bleeding shoulder, "that is in deep.

"I know," you say, trying to find something to pull it out with. The shop owner seems to know this, and pushes a knife towards you. You take it, and take a few steadying breaths.

Your hand shakes, adrenaline not helping you here at all. You're scared too. Have whatever the hell is wrong with you plus your fear. Not a great combo.

Lucy, attempting to ignore the Wilzig having a robotic foot being shoved into him, looks at you and approaches you.

"Here," she says, taking your hand and taking the knife, "let me."

"You even know what you're doing?"

She shrugs, "steadier hand, somehow," she quips, holding out her hand and comparing it to yours, "and, no time like the present."

You suppose you have like no options, so you just nod.

"You wanna know my golden rule?" she asks, trying to distract you as she psyches herself up. You make a noise she assumes is 'ok' and continues, "'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.'" she says, "you helped me, I'll help you. That is how we rebuild."

"The hell you jump from me to rebui--" you are cut off when Lucy jabs the knife into your shoulder. A burning white flash hits your vision. You hear a plethora of 'sorry!' leave her, but you finally the pain start to fade a small bit when you feel the knife be removed along with the bullet casing.

"Done! Done!" Lucy says. You try and focus your breathing and mind, trying to escape the pain.

You feel a glass of something be put in your hand. You down it. You feel the burn of some alcoholic drink.

"Now," the shopkeeper says," that should keep your friend going for a little bit. At least, until they find a Stimpack. I'm sure you'll find one on your way to Moldaver. You feel her pat you - you don't flinch, too focused on being in the present and not spinning, "you alright, kid?"

You give a thumbs up.

She gives you another pat. You open your eyes. You don't feel amazing. But, you don't feel as worse, so in this world that's positively amazing.

"I'll sneak you three out back," the shopkeeper says.

She keeps her word. Once again, something rare here.

Lucy, yourself, and Wilzig walk through the wasteland. Lucy keeps checking her pip boy every so often.

He passes away, and Lucy looks to the blade she has been given. It startles her when it activates.

You come to a rest, and your day gets even better:

Wilzig has taken a cyanide pill, and you need to decapitate him to keep going and have something to give Moldaver.

"Okey dokey, Luce," she says to herself, "you can do this. You can do this. Just...think of it as a massive knife that...moves, and you'll be -"

It activates again and she drops it. She doesn't reach it first, however, you do.

"Look away, is all I'll say."

"No, Y/N. No, you don't have to do this --"

"'Do unto others', right?" You nod, preparing yourself for the grim task, "I got this, ok? Just, look away, please? It'll get real messy."

She stutters a few times; seemingly wanting to persist, thank you, and object all in one go. But, she turns around. You look back at the body.

"Here we go..." you tell yourself, before activating the blade.

Guess you're in this now...fully.

Part 3

[doreminimi]

lost in translation: fated encounters

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: Yuki Ishikawa x Exchange Student Reader 

₊˚⊹♡⋆ 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 9,286 (with epilogue)

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ 𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: An architectural exchange student from Japan finds herself in a bind when a service repairman arrives at her apartment in Perugia, Italy, but doesn’t speak a word of Italian. Amidst the chaos and miscommunication, her friendly neighbor, Yuki Ishikawa, steps in to help. His fluent Italian and kind demeanor break the ice, sparking an unexpected friendship between the two, maybe even leading to something more.

a/n: I might have added more to the story after that little teaser from a few days ago 🙈 but I hope you enjoy the story!

song playlist - daydream, ariana grande // perfect, one direction // stuck with you, ariana grande & justin bieber // angel baby, troye sivan // snooze, sza // 2002, anne-marie // enchanted, taylor swift // swap it out, justin bieber // late night talking, harry styles // written in the stars, wendy & john legend // fallin' all in you, shawn mendes // night changes, one direction // i like me better, lauv // count it, nayeon // dandelion, jaehyun // moonlit floor, lisa // saturn, sza (songs to listen to - doesn't have to be in any particular order)

One:

It’s another breezy autumn day in Tokyo, where life flows like a river through the bustling city streets. The air is crisp and invigorating, carrying the vibrant scents of street food — takoyaki sizzling on grills, the sweet aroma of taiyaki fresh from vendors, and the earthy fragrance of fallen leaves creating a rich collage of seasonal delights. As you navigate through the busy crowds of people, each absorbed in their own worlds, you find solace in the rhythm of the city, a comforting backdrop to your hectic life as a graduate student.

Rushing toward the University of Tokyo, you glance anxiously at your watch, a knot of worry tightening in your stomach. Today marks your weekly meeting with your supervisor, and the stakes feel especially high. You can’t afford to be late. Your heart races as you weave through groups of students, professionals, and tourists, each person wrapped in their own narrative, blissfully unaware of the internal chaos swirling within you.

Y/F/N Y/L/N. At 27, you’ve dedicated yourself to your Master’s degree in Architectural Conservation. For you, this isn’t just an academic pursuit; it’s a calling that intertwines with your passion for history and your desire to shape a better future. You envision a world where the stories of the past are honored and preserved, one building at a time. It’s a lofty ambition, but each day you draw closer to that goal, even if it feels like a long and winding road.

Finally, you reach the meeting room, taking a moment to collect yourself before stepping inside. The door swings open to reveal a space that feels like a sanctuary, walls lined with bookshelves crammed with tomes on architecture, history, and conservation, each volume whispering secrets of the past. Your supervisor, a seasoned professor with a welcoming demeanor and an infectious enthusiasm for his field, greets you with a smile that immediately eases some of your tension.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” he says, gesturing for you to take a seat at the polished wooden table strewn with papers and blueprints. “I’ve been looking forward to discussing your progress.”

As you dive into the intricacies of your research, examining the elegant curves of Baroque facades and the solemn lines of Gothic structures, emphasizing the vital importance of preservation, you can’t shake the feeling of anticipation bubbling just beneath the surface. The room feels charged, as if the air itself is holding its breath. After you lay out your findings, your supervisor leans back in his chair, his expression shifting to one of intrigue and excitement.

“Y/N, you’ve made remarkable progress. I’m genuinely impressed,” he begins, his tone growing serious. “I have a unique opportunity for you. The university has partnered with several prestigious institutions in Italy focused on architectural conservation, and we would like to offer you a short-term internship. It would involve further research at the University of Perugia.”

His words hang in the air, and for a moment, time seems to freeze. The prospect of Italy, a country steeped in architectural marvels and rich history, sends your mind racing. Images of ancient ruins, stunning cathedrals, and charming piazzas flood your thoughts, and you find yourself questioning the serendipity that has led to this moment. Ever since you were young, you have been captivated by the Italian lifestyle, the art, the culture, and the passion for beauty in every detail.

“Would you be interested?” he asks, his voice steady, grounding you in the moment.

Your heart leaps, a thrill of excitement surging through you. “Yes! Absolutely!” you reply, your voice filled with an enthusiasm that surprises even you.

His smile widens, radiating a mix of pride and encouragement that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “Fantastic. I’ll arrange the details. This could be a life-changing experience for you,” he assures you, his eyes twinkling with the promise of adventure and discovery.

As you leave the meeting, a renewed sense of purpose fills your veins. The bustling streets of Tokyo fade into the background, replaced by the vibrant, sun-drenched landscapes of Italy, where your dreams of conservation and culture are about to unfold.

Two:

Packing for Italy felt like a whirlwind, chaotic and exhilarating, with an undercurrent of anxiety gnawing at your excitement. Unlike your usual trips or holidays, this journey was more than just a vacation; it represented a chance to dive deep into your passion for architectural conservation. Each item you carefully folded and placed in your suitcase felt heavy with significance, as if you were curating a small part of your identity to bring along on this grand adventure.

You meticulously arranged your favorite sketchbooks, ensuring they were nestled safely between layers of clothing, their pages eager to capture the inspiration that awaited you. Your trusty set of pencils, worn from years of use, found their place alongside a few carefully chosen tokens from home: a small photograph of your family, a delicate charm bracelet from a friend, and a handmade postcard filled with messages of encouragement. Each item served as a reminder of the love and support that surrounded you, especially from those who had gathered for tearful goodbyes and heartfelt hugs. As you zipped up your suitcase, the reality of what lay ahead began to settle in, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Finally, the day of your departure arrived. The air buzzed with excitement as you boarded the plane, your heart racing at the thought of what awaited you in Italy. Tokyo faded beneath you, the sprawling metropolis giving way to the vast expanse of sky, filled with endless possibilities. You found solace in the thought of exploring Italy’s rich history and architectural treasures, even as nerves about the language barrier nibbled at the edges of your excitement.

Upon landing, Italy enveloped you like a warm embrace. Perugia welcomed you with its sun-drenched hills and terracotta rooftops, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the muted tones of Tokyo. The cobblestone streets wound like ancient rivers, guiding you through a city steeped in history. You could almost hear the whispers of those who walked these paths long before you, and a thrill of inspiration coursed through your veins. The air was rich with the scent of aged stone and blooming flowers, creating an intoxicating blend that made your heart swell with possibility.

After settling into your cozy off-campus apartment, characterized by its rustic wooden beams overhead and a small balcony overlooking the lively street below, you took a moment to breathe in the charm of your new surroundings. The view from your balcony offered a snapshot of everyday Italian life: locals chatting animatedly, children playing, and the distant sound of a street musician strumming a cheerful tune. Yet, a shadow of anxiety loomed over you; while you were fluent in Japanese, English, Korean, and even had a bit of Mandarin under your belt, Italian was a language you had never studied. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to embrace the challenge and immerse yourself in this new world.

The next day, you headed to the University of Perugia for your initial meeting with the faculty contacts regarding your internship. The campus was alive with students bustling between classes, the air buzzing with excitement and lively conversation. As you navigated through the maze of historical buildings, each with its own unique character, you finally found the office of your liaison, Dr. Conti. She was a warm and welcoming woman with an infectious smile that immediately put you at ease.

“Welcome, Y/N!” she greeted you, extending her hand enthusiastically. “We’re thrilled to have you here. I hope your journey was smooth?”

“It was wonderful, thank you!” you replied, feeling a swell of gratitude for her kindness.

Dr. Conti led you into a sunlit conference room adorned with images of historical sites, an inspiring backdrop for your discussion. The walls were lined with photos of breathtaking architecture, from the intricate details of Renaissance buildings to the stark beauty of medieval structures. You felt a surge of motivation as she began outlining the internship details, her enthusiasm palpable.

“We’re excited to facilitate your research on architectural conservation,” she explained, her eyes sparkling with energy. “You’ll have the chance to visit various historical sites across Italy.” As she spoke, she painted a vivid picture of what lay ahead: Florence with its iconic Duomo, Venice with its enchanting canals, and Rome, where history echoes in every corner. “We have partnerships with several institutions, and you’ll be collaborating with experts in the field. We’ll focus on preservation techniques and the history behind these magnificent structures.”

Your heart raced at the thought of exploring those iconic cities. Eagerly, you leaned in, absorbing every detail of your impending adventures. “What will my specific role be?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Dr. Conti smiled warmly. “You’ll assist in research and documentation at each site. This will involve taking notes, conducting analyses, and participating in discussions. It’s an incredible opportunity to learn and contribute to important projects.”

As she detailed the itinerary, a sense of purpose solidified within you. The language barrier still loomed like a specter, but the thought of working alongside passionate individuals filled you with hope and determination. The prospect of diving headfirst into your work ignited a fire in your belly.

After the meeting concluded, Dr. Conti extended an invitation to a small get-together dinner with your new colleagues that evening. “It’ll be a casual gathering, a chance for you to meet everyone and unwind after your travels. We want you to feel at home here,” she said, her tone warm and inviting.

“Thank you! I’d love to join,” you replied, your spirits lifting at the prospect of making connections.

Later that evening, you found yourself at a cozy trattoria, laughter and conversation enveloping you like a warm blanket. The air was filled with the enticing aroma of homemade pasta and rich sauces simmering on the stove. Colleagues welcomed you with open arms, sharing stories and anecdotes that made you feel instantly included. Their passion for their work was infectious, each person animatedly discussing architectural styles and preservation techniques, their love for Italy evident in every word.

You listened intently, contributing whenever you could, though you occasionally struggled with vocabulary. Their encouragement and patience made it easier to engage, each smile and nod reassuring you. The clinking of glasses and the warm glow of candlelight created an atmosphere of camaraderie, allowing you to relax and enjoy the evening.

As you sipped on a glass of local wine, the initial anxiety began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of belonging. Surrounded by friendly faces, you realized that you were not just in Italy to study; you were part of a vibrant community that shared your passion for history and conservation. With a heart full of hope and excitement for the journey ahead, you reveled in the moment, knowing that this was just the beginning of an incredible adventure.

Settling back into your apartment later that night, you reflected on the day’s events, the rich tapestry of history and culture surrounding you felt like a dream come true. With the promise of exploration and discovery ahead, you drifted off to sleep, a smile on your face and a sense of belonging warming your heart.

Three:

The days flew by, each one brimming with new experiences and challenges that filled your senses with wonder. Your routine quickly settled into a rhythm that felt both invigorating and comforting: mornings filled with engaging lectures on architectural conservation, afternoons dedicated to sketching the breathtaking landscapes around you and diving into research, and evenings devoted to practicing basic Italian phrases and vocabulary. As the days passed, the vibrant city of Perugia slowly began to feel like home.

Every day at the University of Perugia unveiled something new, like peeling back the layers of a complex painting. The professors were not only knowledgeable; they were passionate, eager to share their insights and foster discussions that ignited your curiosity. Each lecture was a journey, leading you deeper into the intricacies of Italy’s architectural heritage. You spent hours in the university library, poring over texts that chronicled centuries of design and innovation, planning visits to historical sites that made your heart race with excitement. With every new detail you uncovered, your understanding of the country’s storied past grew, and you felt a deeper connection to the very stones and bricks that had shaped its cities.

Yet, despite the thrill of discovery, the language barrier continued to present formidable hurdles. Simple tasks, such as ordering a cappuccino or asking for directions, often morphed into frustrating battles. You found yourself relying heavily on gestures, fumbling for words, and chuckling at the miscommunications that inevitably arose. At times, it felt isolating, and the weight of loneliness pressed heavily on your chest. The café you frequented before classes buzzed with animated conversations in rapid Italian, laughter spilling over like the foamy milk of the cappuccinos being served. You often wondered if you would ever feel fully woven into the vibrant life in this enchanting city.

One particularly chilly afternoon, disaster struck. You returned to your apartment after a long day of lectures, only to discover that the heating had failed. A sense of dread washed over you as you realized the implications; the temperature was plummeting, and you needed to address the problem quickly before the cold seeped into your bones. You recalled seeing a number for a repair service posted in the hallway and decided to take action.

You rushed to your phone, your heart pounding in your chest as you dialed the number. The sound of the ringing filled the silence, amplifying your anxiety. When a voice finally answered, relief washed over you, but it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of panic. “Um, non funziona,” you stammered, realizing that your command of Italian was far from sufficient to communicate your urgent issue.

The voice on the other end responded rapidly in Italian, the words flowing like a rushing river. You frowned, trying desperately to catch snippets of meaning, but it was overwhelming. Desperation gripped you as you gestured helplessly, wishing you could convey your problem more clearly.

Just then, you heard a knock on your apartment door. You opened it to find a service man standing there, clipboard in hand, ready to assess the situation. His expression was friendly, but as he spoke, you quickly realized he was speaking in rapid Italian.

“Non capisco!” you exclaimed, feeling the panic rise within you. In a moment of inspiration, you dashed to the kitchen and grabbed your translation device, hoping it could bridge the gap. With a deep breath, you pressed the button and spoke into it, “The heating is not working.”

You held it out toward the service man, who glanced at it with a raised eyebrow. As he listened to the translated message, you could see a flicker of understanding cross his face, but he quickly replied with a string of technical terms that left you even more bewildered. Your heart sank as you struggled to keep up, the situation feeling increasingly hopeless.

Just as you were about to hang your head in defeat, a figure appeared in the hallway.

“Hey, is everything okay?” a young man asking in Japanese, stepping into your view. His dark hair fell just above his eyes, and he radiated a casual confidence that made you feel instantly at ease.

Yet, you blinked in surprise at his presence, not expecting someone to help you especially in a language that feels like home to you. “You speak Japanese?” you asked, a glimmer of hope igniting within you.

“Yes, I’m Yuki, your neighbor,” he replied with a friendly smile that melted away some of your anxiety. “Let me help.”

Relief flooded through you as he turned to the service man and began translating smoothly, effortlessly switching between Italian and Japanese. You watched in awe as he conveyed your issue, the service man nodding along, clearly understanding for the first time. The tension in your chest began to loosen, and you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you.

In mere minutes, Yuki had communicated the problem effectively, and the service man responded with assurance, gesturing for you to follow him to the heating unit. With Yuki translating the technical details, you learned about the issue at hand and the steps needed for repairs. His presence transformed the intimidating situation into something manageable, and you found yourself smiling as you listened.

After the service man left, you turned to Yuki, gratitude spilling from your lips in Japanese. “Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I have to run now, or I’ll be late to my meeting!”

As you scurried off, Yuki watched you leave, a mix of admiration and intrigue in his eyes. “She’s something else,” he thought, already pondering how to get to know you better. The warmth of human connection began to replace the earlier chill, leaving you with a sense of hope as you stepped out into the bustling streets of Perugia once more.

Four:

Days turned into a week, and you continued to navigate life in Perugia, where its rich culture began to unfold before you. The city slowly revealed its beauty, sun-drenched piazzas, charming cafes, and stunning vistas, but the language barrier persisted, creating a constant challenge. One serene afternoon, you found yourself in the garden of your apartment block, sketchbook in hand. The golden leaves danced in the autumn breeze, swirling gently to the ground, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to forget the struggles that lingered in the back of your mind.

Yuki had just returned to the apartment complex after a particularly intensive volleyball training session. He felt invigorated yet exhausted, the fresh air revitalizing him as he inhaled the sweet scent of blooming flowers wafting from the small garden shared by the residents. Deciding to take a moment to unwind, he stepped into the garden, his eyes scanning the peaceful scene before him.

To his delight, he spotted you sitting on a bench beneath a large olive tree, deeply engrossed in your sketching. Your pencil moved fluidly across the page, capturing the delicate play of light and shadow. A rush of warmth spread through him at the sight; there was something undeniably captivating about watching you in your element, completely absorbed in your passion.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps approaching. You looked up to see Yuki, relaxed in a simple t-shirt and joggers, a friendly smile on his face. “Hey, enjoying the garden?” he asked, his voice breaking the serene atmosphere.

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you. “It’s beautiful here. I’ve always dreamed of coming to Italy, but… I’m struggling with the language.”

Yuki quickly took a seat beside you on the bench, considering your words thoughtfully. “I can help you with that. How about I teach you Italian, and you teach me English?”

Your heart leaped at the idea. “That sounds perfect! I’d love that!”

From that moment, you began your weekly meetups, gathering in each other’s apartments, surrounded by textbooks, notes, and the occasional stray sketch. The air was filled with laughter and the gentle hum of learning, punctuated by the occasional frustration as you fumbled through phrases. Each lesson felt like a dance, with Yuki patiently correcting your pronunciation while you helped him navigate the subtleties of slang.

“What’s the Italian word for ‘dream’?” you asked one evening, jotting it down in your notebook.

“‘Sogno.’ It’s a beautiful word, don’t you think?” he replied, a soft smile lighting up his face. “It holds a sense of longing, of hope.”

As the weeks passed, your conversations deepened, exploring not only language but also the stories that shaped you both. One evening, sitting on your balcony under the silvery glow of the moon, you turned to Yuki and said, “You know, I’ve always wanted to travel and see the world. But coming here… it’s more than I imagined. It’s like I’m not just discovering a new place; I’m discovering parts of myself I didn’t know were missing.”

Yuki leaned closer, intrigued. “What do you mean? What have you discovered about yourself?”

You hesitated, the weight of your thoughts grounding you. “I’ve always been the one to follow the rules, to stay in the lines. But here, I feel free to explore, to create. The architecture, the history,it speaks to me in a way I’ve never experienced before. It’s like I can finally breathe.”

His expression softened, and he nodded thoughtfully. “It’s amazing how a place can unlock something within us. What about your studies? Why did you choose architectural conservation?”

You took a deep breath, reflecting on the journey that had led you here. “I’ve always been captivated by the stories buildings tell. Every crack, every faded paint color,it's like they hold memories of the lives that came before. I want to preserve that history, to honor it. In a world that often pushes for the new and shiny, I believe there’s beauty in what’s old and worn. It deserves to be seen, to be understood.”

Yuki listened intently, his eyes bright with curiosity. “I can see how passionate you are about this. But why Italy? What draws you here specifically?”

You smiled, the memories flooding back. “As a child, I was entranced by Italian art and architecture. I’d spend hours in museums, dreaming of standing in front of a Renaissance painting or wandering through ancient ruins. Italy isn’t just a backdrop for my studies; it’s a living, breathing piece of art itself. It felt like destiny to come here.”

He leaned back, contemplating your words. “You have such a deep appreciation for history. But isn’t it intimidating to think about preserving something so grand and significant?”

You nodded, acknowledging the weight of the responsibility. “It is. But it also feels like a calling. I want to learn from the past to create a better future, even if it’s just one building at a time. It’s about connecting with people through these structures, sharing their stories.”

A moment of silence settled between you, the moonlight casting a serene glow. Yuki felt a newfound respect for you, captivated by your passion and depth. “That’s beautiful. You’re not just studying architecture; you’re crafting a narrative that will resonate long after you’re gone.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “Thank you, Yuki. That means a lot coming from you.”

As you spoke, the boundaries between you began to dissolve. You were no longer just a stranger in a foreign land; you were two souls intertwined in a shared journey of discovery. Your laughter filled the night air, each moment bringing you closer together. You realized that by opening up to each other, you had started to build a friendship that not only reflected the rich histories you both cherished but was also blossoming into something deeper — a relationship full of promise and connection.

Five:

As the weeks rolled on, the anticipation of your next nightly meeting with Yuki lingers in the back of your mind like a sweet melody. Classes were engaging, and you found yourself diving deeper into your research, but there was a lightness in your heart that made even the most tedious tasks feel enjoyable. The bond you were forming with Yuki. had brought a spark to your days, and you couldn’t wait to see where it might lead.

One evening, after a long day of lectures, you decided to unwind by scrolling through TikTok. As the videos flitted by, one caught your attention: a clip of a volleyball match featuring a player who moved with incredible agility and grace. You couldn’t help but stop, mesmerized by the power and finesse on display. The comment section was flooded with admiration for the athlete, and as you watched, a familiar face appeared on screen, Yuki.

Your jaw dropped as you recognized him, the same easy smile and familiar dark hair. You quickly scrolled through the comments, realizing he was the captain for the Japanese national team and a star player in the Italian league. The hours go by as you continually scroll through the app to learn more about your recently neighbour-turned-friend. Your mind raced, filled with questions. How had you not known? 

The next time you met Yuki in the garden, you could hardly contain your excitement. “Yuki, you didn’t tell me you were a famous volleyball player! I saw a video on TikTok of you playing! You’re amazing!” you exclaimed, your eyes wide with astonishment.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck with a shy smile. “I didn’t think you would find out this way.”

“I can’t believe you’re a national team player! Why didn’t you tell me?” you pressed, still buzzing with disbelief.

“I guess I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” he replied, a hint of modesty in his tone. “I just love the sport. My older sister introduced me to volleyball when I was young, and I’ve been hooked ever since.”

“That’s amazing! What made you stick with it?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Yuki leaned back against the bench, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “It was more than just the game for me. It was a way to challenge myself, to grow both as an individual and as a player. When the opportunity came to play in Italy during my college years, I couldn’t resist. It felt like a chance to expand my horizons, experience a new culture, and improve my skills.”

You nodded, impressed by his journey. “So, how’s the league here compared to Japan?”

“It’s different, for sure,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he spoke about the sport. “The style of play, the atmosphere in the arenas, it's all unique. I’ve learned so much from my teammates here, and it’s been a rewarding experience.”

“What’s the biggest difference you’ve noticed?” you asked, leaning in, eager to hear more.

Yuki thought for a moment, then smiled. “In Japan, there’s a strong emphasis on precision and teamwork. Here, the players tend to be more individualistic, which creates a different kind of excitement. The energy in the stadiums is electric; the fans really get into it. It makes every match feel like an event.”

You could see the passion in his eyes, and it made you want to know more. “Do you have a favorite match or moment that stands out to you?”

His expression turned nostalgic. “Definitely. One match during the volleyball nations league finals in 2023 was unforgettable, it was the first time Japan won a medal in the VNLs. The game went into five sets, and the atmosphere was just insane. I remember making a crucial spike that turned the tide and closed the game. The roar of the crowd was deafening, it felt like everything I had trained for had come to fruition in that moment.”

“Wow, I can only imagine how exhilarating that must have been! Do you ever get nervous before a big game?” you asked, intrigued.

He laughed lightly, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. “All the time. But I’ve learned to channel that nervous energy into focus. It’s like a dance, you have to find your rhythm, or you’ll get lost in your head. Plus, having my teammates around helps. We support each other, and that bond is really special.”

You smiled, appreciating his perspective. “It sounds like you’ve built a great team dynamic. It’s so important to have that kind of support.”

“I’d love to see you play,” you said without thinking, your excitement bubbling over. “Do you have any upcoming games?”

Yuki’s expression brightened. “Actually, yes. We have a home game this Saturday. Would you like to come? It would mean a lot to me to have someone there supporting me.”

Your heart raced at the invitation. “I’d love to! What time is the game?”

“Starts at six. I can get you a ticket,” he offered, his enthusiasm palpable.

“You don’t have to go out of your way to do that for me, I can try to get the ticket myself. But thank you for the offer. Regardless I can’t wait to see you play live!” you thanked him, your excitement blending with a hint of nervousness. 

As the conversation flowed, you both discussed the logistics of the game, and you found yourself getting caught up in his passion for volleyball. It was a side of him that felt so vibrant and alive, and you felt lucky to be included in this part of his life.

When the day of the game finally arrived, you found yourself buzzing with anticipation. You dressed in comfortable clothes, deciding to wear a simple oversized jersey tucked neatly into the seams of your jeans. As you made your way to the arena, a mix of excitement and nerves fluttered in your stomach. This was a chance to see a different side of Yuki, and you were eager to experience it.

Upon arriving at the venue, you were greeted by the energetic atmosphere, the sounds of fans cheering, and the smell of popcorn wafting through the air. You spotted Yuki warming up on the court with his teammates, and your heart swelled with pride as you watched him move with such intensity and focus. 

As the match progressed, you found yourself completely immersed in the game, cheering along with the crowd. Every time Yuki scored a point, you erupted with joy, your excitement matching the energy of the fans around you. It was exhilarating, and you felt a newfound appreciation for the sport and for Yuki himself.

When the final whistle blew and the team celebrated their victory, you couldn’t help but join in their excitement. Yuki spotted you in the stands, a radiant smile breaking across his face as he jogged over, still glistening with sweat from the game. 

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked, breathless but beaming.

“It was incredible! You played so well!” you exclaimed, still riding the high of the match.

“Thanks! I’m glad you came. It means a lot to have your support,” he said, his expression warm and sincere. 

In that moment, surrounded by the buzz of victory and the vibrant energy of the arena, you realized just how deeply your feelings for him were growing. It was more than just friendship; there was something special blossoming between you, and you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

Six:

As spring blossomed in Perugia, the city transformed into a vibrant display of colors. Flowers burst into bloom, filling the air with their sweet fragrance and the promise of new beginnings. It had been several months since you first arrived in Italy, and as your internship at the University of Perugia neared its end, you found yourself reflecting on the incredible journey you had taken, not just in your studies, but in your relationship with Yuki.

The bond between you had deepened remarkably over the months. What had started as a friendship rooted in shared experiences and language lessons had evolved into something much more profound. You spent countless hours together exploring the charming streets of Perugia, visiting museums, sipping coffee at quaint cafés, and enjoying late-night dinners at local restaurants. Each outing felt like a new adventure, a chance to learn more about each other and the world around you.

One sunny afternoon, you found yourselves at the farmers’ market on a rare day off together, the lively atmosphere filled with laughter and chatter. Yuki walked beside you, calm and collected, a gentle smile playing on his lips as you bounced from stall to stall, your excitement palpable.

“Look at this!” you exclaimed, holding up a plump tomato. “These beauties are going to be the star for our sauce-off next pasta night!” You turned to him, beaming.

Yuki chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “They certainly have potential,” he replied, his voice steady yet warm. “Just promise not to underestimate the power of love when cooking in the kitchen.”

You nudged him playfully. “Only if you promise not to use it as your secret ingredient!” His laughter felt like a soothing balm, easing the joy swirling around you.

As you wandered through the market, picking out ripe strawberries and fragrant basil, you marveled at how far you had come together. From art galleries filled with Renaissance masterpieces to lazy Sunday mornings sampling fresh produce and local delicacies, each shared moment deepened your bond. You even braved the bustling Christmas markets, bundled up in warm coats, exchanging playful banter as you browsed stalls filled with handmade crafts and seasonal treats.

With each shared experience, your feelings for Yuki grew stronger. His kindness, passion for volleyball, and genuine curiosity about the world drew you in like a moth to a flame. You admired how he balanced his athletic commitments, and his dedication inspired you to push harder in your own work. In turn, he found your determination and enthusiasm infectious, and the way you embraced every moment made him appreciate life in Italy even more.

Eventually, you made your way to the artisan corner of the market, where the air buzzed with creativity and the scents of handmade goods mingled with fresh produce. Colorful stalls displayed everything from intricate pottery to handwoven textiles, each one a testament to local craftsmanship. The vibrant atmosphere was alive with laughter and chatter, drawing you in like a warm embrace.

You spotted a vibrant scarf draped elegantly over one of the tables. Picking it up, you wrapped it around your shoulders and looked at Yuki expectantly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. “You look like a fashionable grape,” he teased, his tone light and playful.

“Very funny!” you rolled your eyes at him, but a smile tugged at your lips despite your best efforts to feign annoyance. You were having too much fun to take him seriously. “What about these earrings?” you asked, holding up a pair of colorful dangling pieces that caught the light just right, their hues reflecting your excitement.

Yuki took a moment to consider them, his expression thoughtful. “Those might be a bit too bold,” he finally said, his voice steady. “You need a hat to balance it out. Something to bring the whole look together.”

“Alright, fashion critic,” you laughed, a challenge dancing in your eyes. You scanned the nearby stall and spotted a wide-brimmed hat perched jauntily on a display. Without hesitation, you picked it up and plopped it onto your head, striking a dramatic pose as if you were on a runway.

Yuki’s laughter filled the air, rich and soothing, wrapping around you like a warm hug. The sound was infectious, drawing smiles from passersby and making your heart race a little faster. In that moment, something shifted; the playful teasing felt charged with a new warmth. You exchanged glances, and a flicker of understanding passed between you, as if you were both aware of the deeper connection growing in the space between your playful banter.

This wasn’t just a day at the market; it was a moment full of potential, like the scarf and hat you wore, colors blending together that hinted at the beautiful growth of your relationship. Surrounded by the lively buzz of the market and the promise of what lay ahead, you felt a thrilling sense of possibility lingering in the air.

As you both finished exploring the artisan corner, your bags filled with vibrant finds, you glanced at Yuki, who was quietly admiring a delicate glass ornament he had picked up. “I think we’ve officially completed our market adventure,” you said, grinning.

“Agreed,” he replied, a calm smile on his face. “But I think we deserve a reward for our hard work. How about a stop at that café we saw on the way in? I hear they have the best pastries in town.”

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. “That sounds perfect! I need something sweet after all that shopping.”

With the market behind you, the two of you strolled toward the cozy café, the air still buzzing. Yuki walked beside you, his presence steady and reassuring as you chattered excitedly about all the finds of the day. As you entered the café, the warm scent of freshly baked goods enveloped you, making your stomach rumble in anticipation. The café was charming, with rustic wooden tables and twinkling fairy lights that added to the inviting atmosphere.

You approached the counter, scanning the display of decadent desserts. “Look at all these choices!” you exclaimed, pointing to a beautifully layered cake that seemed to call your name. “I have to try that!”

Yuki nodded, his gaze calm and focused. “That looks good, and we can’t leave without getting their famous hot chocolate.”

After placing your order, two steaming mugs of rich hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and a selection of pastries, including the layered cake and some tiramisu, you found a cozy corner table by the window. You settled in, the warmth of the café enveloping you as you watched the world outside, where the lights danced against the evening sky.

As you sipped your hot chocolate, you couldn’t help but smile at Yuki. “This is the best way to end our day. Just look at everything we’ve accomplished!”

He took a sip of his drink, nodding appreciatively. “Absolutely. And we still have dessert to look forward to.” 

You shared the desserts, each bite sweeter than the last, and the conversation flowed effortlessly between you. Laughter filled the air as you exchanged stories and silly banter, both of you completely absorbed in the moment. Yuki listened intently, responding with a soft chuckle or a thoughtful nod, his calm demeanor providing a comforting balance to your excitement.

With each shared smile and gentle touch, the bond between you felt even stronger, creating a collection of memories that you knew would last far beyond this magical day. As you prepared to head home, a sense of contentment settled in, the possibilities of what lay ahead blooming in your heart like the vibrant colors of the market. You knew this was just the beginning of many more adventures together.

Later that evening, back at your apartment after a long day, you lounged on the couch, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the room. You turned to Yuki, recalling how every moment spent together had brought you closer, solidifying your bond.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Yuki asked, leaning back with a nostalgic smile. “I was nervous about helping you with the repairman.”

You chuckled, recalling how flustered you had been that day. “Really? I didn’t even know! I was panicking, thinking I’d never figure anything out without your help. I can’t believe how far we’ve come since then.”

“Yeah, it’s like we’ve become a team,” he said, his gaze steady on you. “I can’t imagine my time here without you.”

The weight of his words settled in the air, and for a moment, silence enveloped you both. You felt a flutter of something, a shared understanding that your friendship had shifted into deeper territory. The thought of returning to Japan in a few weeks loomed over you, casting a shadow of uncertainty.

“What are you thinking?” Yuki asked gently, sensing your contemplation.

You took a deep breath, heart racing as you chose your words carefully. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our friendship… and what’s going to happen when I go back to Japan. I’m excited to finish my thesis, but I’m really going to miss this. I’m going to miss us.”

He nodded, his expression turning serious. “I’ve been feeling the same way. This place, the experiences we’ve shared,they’ve meant so much to me. I didn’t expect to form such a close bond with you.”

As he spoke, your heart pounded in your chest. The air crackled with tension, and you could feel the shift in the dynamic between you. You both had been dancing around your feelings for weeks, and now it seemed the moment had finally arrived.

“I think what we have is special,” you admitted, looking into his eyes. “But I’m scared. I don’t know what it looks like when I go back. I don’t want to lose what we’ve built here.”

Yuki leaned forward, his gaze intense. “You won’t lose it. We can figure it out together. I want to keep this connection alive, no matter the distance.”

Your breath caught at his words, a sense of hope blooming within you. “Really? You mean that?”

“Of course. I’d like to explore what this could be,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle. “I don’t want to put pressure on you, but I feel something more here. And I want to see where it leads.”

The warmth of his words enveloped you, and you felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over you. You both leaned in closer, the space between you charged with possibility. The idea of a romance blossoming felt thrilling yet daunting, but you couldn’t ignore the connection that had grown between you.

“So what does that look like for us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the reality of the situation settling in.

He paused, contemplating. “Well, for starters, we can make a plan to visit each other. I can come to Japan during my off-season, and you can come back here when you can. Plus, we can always video chat and keep texting.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you said, nodding, but a thought nagged at you. “But what if things change? What if we grow apart?”

“Change is inevitable,” he replied, his sincerity shining through. “But I believe we can adapt. We’ve both grown so much during our time here, and we can keep growing together. Our experiences shape us, but they can also strengthen our connection if we let them.”

You felt comforted by his words. “You’re right. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it scares me. But it also feels right.”

Yuki smiled softly, his expression tender. “Me too. I want to be there for you, even from afar. I’ll support you with your thesis and all your future plans. And I want you to be there for me when I have games and tournaments.”

A playful smile crept across your face. “You mean I’ll have to learn how to cheer for you in Italian now? That’s going to be a challenge!”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm. “I’ll help you with that! But honestly, I just want you in the stands, cheering me on. It would mean the world to have you there.”

“Deal,” you replied, your heart swelling at the thought of supporting him.

“But beyond just cheering,” he continued, his voice growing serious, “I want you to be part of my life, to understand the things that are important to me, just like I want to understand yours. It’s more than just distance; it’s about really sharing our lives.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed. “I want to know everything, your daily routines, your training, even your favorite post-game meals. And you’ll have to tell me all about your family and life back in Japan. I want to understand the real you.”

Yuki nodded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “And I want you to show me your world, too. I want to visit your favorite places in Japan and meet your friends. I want to know more about you, just like you will learn more about me.”

As the evening wore on, you both continued to talk, sharing hopes and dreams, crafting a vision of a future filled with adventures together. The laughter and warmth that filled the room made it feel like anything was possible.

With a newfound resolve, you both made a silent agreement to embrace whatever came next. For now, you were here together in this beautiful moment, ready to see where your journey would take you. The possibilities stretched out before you like the blooming flowers of spring, and you felt a renewed sense of excitement for what lay ahead.

Seven:

Returning to Japan was a bittersweet experience. The familiar sights and sounds of Tokyo enveloped you, yet they felt strangely different, transformed by your time abroad. The bustling streets, the scent of street food wafting through the air, and the vibrant energy of the city reminded you of home, but they also brought back memories of Italy - the warmth of the sun on your skin, the laughter shared over meals, and the enchanting cobblestone streets of Perugia. You had left as a passionate student and returned as someone shaped by profound experiences, both academic and personal, particularly your blossoming relationship with Yuki.

As graduation day approached, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. The University of Tokyo, renowned for its rigorous academic programs, was a place of pride, and the excitement of the upcoming ceremony filled the air. Friends and family gathered, and you felt a mixture of nerves and pride at the thought of standing before everyone as the valedictorian. It was an honor you had never anticipated, and the weight of that responsibility felt both thrilling and daunting.

On the day of the ceremony, you slipped into your cap and gown, your heart racing with both pride and anxiety. You took a moment to look in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric and adjusting your cap. You thought of how much you had grown over the past few years and how much you had learned about yourself. The thought of Yuki filled your mind, and a bittersweet smile crept onto your face wishing he would be here to celebrate your special day together.

As you arrived at the university hall, the grand space was filled with graduates in their caps and gowns, family members taking pictures, and the chatter of anticipation echoing off the walls. The sight of your friends, who had supported you through countless late-night study sessions and group projects, made you feel grateful. They had been your rock, and now you were about to embark on a new chapter of your life, one that included Yuki in a way you had never expected.

When it was time for your speech, you took a deep breath, stepping up to the podium. The audience was filled with familiar faces - your friends, family, and faculty members who had guided you through your studies. You glanced around, and there, amid the sea of graduates and supporters, you spotted Yuki sitting proudly beside your friends. His presence shocked you as you were not expecting him to be there, and yet you felt a surge of happiness at his presence. 

“Good afternoon, esteemed faculty, family, friends, and fellow graduates,” you began, your voice steady and clear as you looked out at the crowd. “Today marks a significant milestone in our lives, a celebration of our hard work and perseverance. As I stand here, I am reminded of the incredible journey that brought me to this moment.”

You spoke about your experiences at the University of Tokyo, recounting the late nights spent in the library, the professors who inspired you, and the challenges that shaped your academic path. “I was fortunate enough to be presented with a unique opportunity to study architectural conservation in Italy. This experience was not only about expanding my knowledge but also about discovering who I am.”

As you shared stories of the people you met and the places you explored, your gaze drifted back to Yuki. He was leaning forward, a warm smile on his face, his eyes shining with pride. The sight filled you with warmth and strength as you continued, recounting how your time in Italy had broadened your horizons, enriched your life, and ultimately led to a profound connection with someone who had become a crucial part of your journey.

“During my time abroad, I learned that the world is vast and filled with opportunities for growth,” you said, your voice gaining momentum. “But more importantly, I discovered the value of connection. The friendships I forged and the love I found have made all the difference.”

You looked out at the audience, your heart swelling with emotion. “I remember feeling lost in a new city, struggling to communicate, yet I found a neighbor who became a friend, a mentor, and something even more special. The bond we formed taught me that sometimes, the people we least expect to touch our lives can change everything.”

The crowd erupted into applause, and you could feel the support wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You noticed your family beaming with pride, and your friends were clapping enthusiastically, but it was Yuki’s unwavering gaze that kept you grounded. He was your rock, your partner in this journey, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the love that had blossomed between you.

As you concluded your speech, you felt a rush of adrenaline. “Today, as we celebrate our achievements, let us remember that we are not just graduates. We are explorers, dreamers, and builders of our futures. And no matter where life takes us, the connections we make will always guide us forward.”

With that, you stepped back from the podium, applause crashing over you like waves. You took a moment to soak in the atmosphere, feeling exhilarated and relieved. The ceremony felt surreal, and you spotted Yuki standing, clapping enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with pride. Your heart swelled as you realized just how far you had come, from strangers to neighbors, from friends to a couple deeply supporting each other.

After the ceremony, you stepped off the stage, a mixture of relief and joy washing over you. Friends and family surrounded you, offering hugs and congratulations, but all you could think about was Yuki. You made your way through the crowd, your heart racing with anticipation.

Finally, you spotted him waiting for you, his face lighting up as your eyes met. He stepped forward, enveloping you in a warm embrace that felt like coming home. “You were incredible. I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

“Thank you! I couldn’t have done it without your support,” you replied, pulling back to look into his eyes. “It means so much to me that you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You’ve achieved so much, and I’m honored to be part of your journey.”

You stood there, the noise of the crowd fading into the background, lost in the moment. It felt surreal to have him by your side after all that had happened. You had grown together, navigating challenges and triumphs hand in hand.

As the festivities continued around you, he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s next for us?” 

You smiled, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Well, we have so many places to explore together! I’ve been wanting to go to this cute otter cafe in Harajuku but I didn’t want to go alone. But now that you’re here, I finally have a reason to go!” you excitedly tell him, while holding his hand and ushering him along to finally meet your family. 

With laughter and shared stories, you both stepped back into the bustling crowd, ready to celebrate not just your accomplishments, but the journey ahead together. The day felt like the beginning of everything, a promise of more adventures, love, and support as you embraced the future together.

Epilogue:

The next weekend, after the whirlwind of graduation festivities, you and Yuki decided to treat yourselves to a day of fun. The thought of visiting the otter cafe in Harajuku filled you with excitement, and you could hardly contain your giggles as you made your way there.

When you arrived, the cafe was a cozy little haven filled with the soft sounds of water splashing and playful chirps from the otters. The friendly staff led you to a designated area where you could interact with the otters, and you could already see them swimming gracefully in their enclosure.

As you settled in, the otters began to take notice of Yuki. At 192 cm, he was an imposing figure, and it didn’t take long for a particularly adventurous otter to swim up to him. Without hesitation, it scrambled onto Yuki's shoulder.

“Uh, hello there,” Yuki said, trying to maintain his composure as the otter settled in. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Look at you! You’ve got an otter on your shoulder!” you teased, grabbing your phone to capture the moment. 

“I didn’t sign up for this,” he replied, trying to gently nudge the otter off. But before he could, another otter climbed up his other arm, causing him to squirm slightly. “They’re really persistent!”

You were doubled over with laughter now, holding your phone up to record as one particularly bold otter made its way onto Yuki’s head. “Oh my gosh, this is the best!” you exclaimed, barely able to catch your breath.

“Please tell me this isn’t going to be on social media,” Yuki groaned, a mix of exasperation and humor in his voice as the otters seemed to make him their personal jungle gym. 

You couldn’t resist. “I’m sending this to your sisters! They need to see their ‘tall otter’ brother in action!”

“Not my sisters! They’ll never let me live this down!” he protested, but the playful glint in his eyes betrayed how much he was enjoying the moment, even if he would never admit it.

“Look at them! They love you!” you laughed, your phone capturing every second of Yuki's predicament as the otters scampered up and down his arms, occasionally pausing to peer at him curiously. One even made itself comfortable on his head, causing him to tilt sideways in an attempt to balance.

“Why are they so drawn to me?” Yuki asked, feigning exasperation. “Am I some kind of otter magnet?”

You shook your head, tears of laughter forming in your eyes. “Maybe they think you’re a giant otter! Just look at that one on your head! You’ve become their throne!”

Yuki finally managed to free himself of one of the otters, only for another to take its place. “This is a nightmare!” he said dramatically, though you could see the hint of a smile lurking on his lips.

“More like a dream for me!” you replied, continuing to film. “Your sisters are going to love this!”

“Please, no more videos,” he pleaded, but you could see he was secretly amused, the way his shoulders relaxed even amidst the chaos.

As the hour went by, you enjoyed every second of Yuki's playful misery. The otters eventually climbed down, allowing him to regain his composure, but you couldn’t shake the laughter that had filled the space.

When it was finally time to leave the cafe, Yuki looked at you, shaking his head with a mock-serious expression. “You’re so mean, laughing at my plight. I’m going to hear about this for ages.”

You leaned closer, your heart full of warmth. “But you have to admit it was worth it. Besides, you looked adorable!”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Only you could make me enjoy being a human playground for otters.”

As you walked through the bustling streets of Harajuku, hand in hand, you felt a sense of joy radiating between you. The laughter, the shared moments, and even Yuki's good-natured misery made everything feel alive with possibilities. With every adventure, big or small, you knew that your bond was growing deeper, and you couldn’t wait for what lay ahead together.

Hi guys! I hope you guys enjoyed this writing, definitely longer than my first one but will definitely not be the last. If you guys have any suggestions or requests for stories, let me know! I am quite interested in writing stories for the other members, as well as people in the k-pop scene ♡ Don't forget to like and comment if you enjoyed reading this story!

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Love Thy Frenemy + Ch. 10

(Frenemies/Tenderness AU)

TEN: Let the Sleeper Awake

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FRENEMY FEM READER

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Summary: Simon returns in time for the May Day celebration, wanting to surprise his doll, but watching her perform has him viewing her in a very different light.

Warnings/Tags: Profanity, Spice- just a pinch, Mention of masturbation, Fluff & Feels, Simon checks out doll, Doll checks out Simon, Idiots in love lust, the 141 have a chat sesh, No use of Y/N

(Notes: Beltane (a.k.a. May Eve/May Day) is a fire and... ahem!... fertility festival. So, I thought, what better time for Simon and his doll to finally realize that there's a little more than friendly feelings between them. Let the sleepers awake. 😏)

Word Count: 2.9K

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Chapter 10

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“Beltane magick here we sing

Chant the rune and dance the ring

Joy and blessing shall it bring 

Let the sleeper awake!”

― Doreene Valiente, Beltane Chant

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The village green was a hive of activity, preparations for the May Day celebration in full swing.

Booths, tents and stalls lined the streets, vendors setting up their wares and stocking up for the large crowds expected for the two-day celebration. An abundance of flowers, real and fake, decorated the whole of the village’s heart, garlands and wreaths attached to every available surface, every shop window sporting bright floral displays.

The maypole had been raised at the back of the green, its brightly colored ribbons fluttering in the warm breeze. The volunteers performing this year were gathered off to the side taking a break from their practice, you and Fiona among them.

The two of you had been roped into volunteering, so you both had to learn the performances from scratch. Fi especially was struggling with the interweaving moves, cursing under her breath every time she made a misstep.

“If I’d known it was goin’ t’be this big of a pain in me arse, I would’a hid in the loo when I saw Margie comin’,” she groused, wiping a forearm across her brow. She turned up her bottled water and took a large gulp as she glared at Margie Bartleby, proud owner of the Tea Room and the entertainment director of the festivities this year. “All tha’ woman needs is a bloody whip t’crack over our heads.”

You sniffed in amusement, not bothering to comment. You knew Fi was just venting her frustration and didn’t mean a word of what she said. You and she both adored the older woman, though you had to admit that Margie could be a right task master when she wanted to be.

You sipped at your water as you pulled your cell from your back pocket to check your notifications, drifting under the shade of a tent to see the screen better. You were hoping to see a message from Riley, but you were again disappointed.

He’d been gone since the last week of March, only a week and half after you had moved in with him. There had been no word from him save for a single text around mid-April to tell you if all went according to plan, he might be home by the end of the month. You had really been hoping he would make it back in time for the May Day celebration, but it didn't look like that was going to happen. He always seemed to be deployed during holidays.

“Still no word?” Fi asked, joining you.

You sighed and slipped the phone back in your pocket. “No.”

She nudged your shoulder. “Maybe ye’ll get a May Day miracle an’ he’ll show up dressed like Jack o' the Green.” Her grin turned lewd. “Can’t ya just picture it? Riley wearin’ nothin’ but a patch o’ moss over his dangly bits with oak leaves stuck all in his mask?”

“Fi-ona!” Heat crept up your neck to your cheeks, yet the image she created popped unbidden into your head.

Your face grew hotter as you imagined him dressed as Fi had described, the mental pictures in your head far from chaste. Riley was built like a Norse god, and even with the mask he earned his fair share of appreciative glances. You couldn't help but look, too; you were his friend, but that didn't make you immune to him.

When you heard Fi laughing at you, you blinked out of your daydream and narrowed your eyes. “Shut up,” you hissed at her, but couldn’t hide your wry smirk.

“Come along, lovies! Break's over!” Margie called to the group. “Let’s get back to it. We need to practice the bonfire procession and dance next!”

Fiona groaned, scowling. “God, I’ll be glad when we’re done with this. Never again,” she vowed as the two of you trudged back out to the green together.

-

Simon sat back in his seat, eyes focused out the window of the plane, half-listening to Soap and Gaz arguing about how they were going to spend their first night on leave. His cell phone was in his hand, your last text open. It was an image of the green decorated for May Day.

“Oi, Ghost! Ya should come with us t'night. We’re goin’ to that new pub in Hereford,” Gaz invited.

Simon slanted a glance his way, dark eyes glinting inside his skull mask. “Can’t. Got plans.”

“Ah, c’mon, mate. Readin' in your bunk isn’t plans,” Gaz replied, scoffing.

“Did ye ferget?” Soap spoke up, a mischievous smirk on his face as he bumped the other sergeant's arm. “Ghost has t’get’ home t’see his doll dance. Ain't tha' right, LT?”

Simon scowled at him. The nosy bastard had overheard him tell Price about you performing in the May Day festival, after the captain had asked him how "his doll" was doing. So, of course, Johnny hadn’t shut up about it since, pestering him for intel about his ‘wee doll’.

“Oh, that’s right,” Gaz drawled, his smile spreading wide. “Maybe we should go home with Ghost, then. You can introduce us to your doll.”

“Not happenin',” Simon gruffed. “Ya lot ain’t gettin’ anywhere near ‘er.”

Soap chuckled, puffing out his chest. “Worried I’ll nick yer lass, LT?” He smoothed his hand over his mohawk, flexing his bicep with a cheeky grin. “Canna blame ye. There’s a lot here t’tempt her away,” he teased, making his pecs jump beneath his tight tee. Gaz cackled.

Simon stuck his phone back in his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest, tipping his chin down at the sergeant. “Ain't worried. Dee knows a wanker when she sees one."

"Oh-ho!" Soap crowed. "So, it's Dee, is it? Slipped up an' said her name, LT." He winked at Gaz as Simon muttered a curse. "Dee an' Johnny. Got a nice ring to it, aye?"

“Enough, lads,” Price called from behind his laptop, not even bothering to look up. The two immediately shut their gobs.

As soon as the plane touched down, Simon was up and heading down the ramp as it lowered. Grinning like a devil, Soap was ready to head after him when Price grabbed him by the back of his tac vest and hauled him back. 

“Bloody hell, lad, give it a rest,” he uttered lowly.

Gaz came abreast of them and leaned into whisper, “We just wanna know about her, Cap. I mean— it's Ghost. Kinda hard to imagine him havin' a bird. Has he told ya anything about her? Have ya seen a picture of her?"

Price scrubbed at his beard. “Never met the lass. Ya lads know he likes to keep his personal life private. Now, both of ya, leave it alone.”

“Canna believe yer no' a wee bit curious, sir,” Soap persisted. “Would ye no' like t’meet the lass tha’ caught the Ghost?”

Price wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t curious, but more than anything, he was just glad to see his lieutenant at ease, for a change. He was still a right broody cunt, but his attitude had definitely improved. “Lads, as long as she makes him happy, that’s all I care 'bout. Now, mind yer bloody business an' leave him alone, yeah?”

“Think he’d show us a picture of her if we asked nice?” Soap wondered aloud, undeterred. "I bet she's a right bonnie lass, aye? Have t'be t'get the LT all hot an' bothered." He waggled his eyebrows.

Price dragged a hand over his face and groaned.

-

Simon ended up parking behind the Dog when he finally made into to the village. Coming through the alley, he could see the crowd milling about the green and vendor booths, the smell of fried food and sweets wafting down the ginnel on the breeze. His stomach growled and he cursed himself for not eating something before leaving the base, but he'd been in a hurry to get home.

He usually stayed on base if he wasn't deployed when events like this were going on in Banfield. He hated dealing with the extra traffic and large crowds that descended on the village, but he could suck it up and deal with it just this once, since it was for you.

Apparently, he'd made it back just in time. Most of the crowd had gathered near the back of the green around the maypole, Margie's familiar voice loud and clear over the PA system as she announced that the maypole dance was about to begin.

Simon pressed through the throng of people, ignoring the looks and startled gasps as they shuffled out of his way. His eyes scanned over the dancers, searching for you, his eyes going a little wide when he spotted you standing with your back to him.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but he felt like he'd been poleaxed, his dazed eyes roving over your figure. You were dressed like the other dancers, wearing a pastel satin undress covered in layers of wispy, see-through tulle, but the underdress clung to your breasts and hips, the swell of your bum accentuated by the slippery material. When you shifted your weight to pose in the starting position, a split in the underdress revealed the length of your thigh, the layered tulle separating to expose it.

Simon's mouth fell open under his surgical mask, eyes avid as the music began to play. He watched with rapt attention as you skipped and dipped and twirled, weaving in and out with the other dancers to braid the colored ribbons around the pole. Your hair had been left loose, a crown of flowers on your head, makeup done to give your features an ethereal cast. You looked like a fairy, flitting around, he mused. A really curvaceous, sultry, sexy fairy...

A familiar feeling tingled low in his abdomen and the front of jeans were suddenly too tight. He shook his head, grunting at his base reaction, but now that he'd seen you this way, he knew there was no denying it. You were stunning, the prettiest bird he'd ever seen. His pretty doll. Possessive pride welled up in his chest, straightening his spine and lifting his chin. That was his beautiful doll out there dancing; his.

When the dance ended, all the performers took a bow and then the crowd surrounded them. Simon hung back, waiting, wanting to see your expression when you finally spotted him.

So worth the wait.

It was Fiona that saw him first, nudging your shoulder and whispering at your ear as she pointed him out. The slight frown of confusion on your face transformed into a look of joyous surprise, your smile wide and beaming as you rushed to meet him, crying out, "Oh, my God! Ri!" as you leapt up to wrap your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

It stunned him at first, being greeted that way. Anyone else would have found themselves thrown to the ground with a knee in their back, but you? You he caught up in his arms and held on tight, breathing you in as his hands molded to your back and waist like he had done this a thousand times. It was instinctive and felt so right.

You pulled back to gaze into his eyes, your smile becoming something softer, more intimate. "I'm so glad you made it, Ri. Can't believe you're finally home. I've missed you."

His chest went tight, a pleased flush warming his face. He pressed his forehead to yours. "Missed ya, too, doll. 'S good t'be home."

He had a sudden, intense urge to pull down his mask and kiss you. His fingers twitched on your back, muscles spasming in his arms. He couldn't recall the last time he'd kissed a woman on the lips, but damn if he wasn't gaggin' to bloody do it now. From the soft, hazy look in your eyes, he didn't think you would mind it, either, which only made the temptation worse.

You both turned your heads, startled, when Fiona giggled. She was already lowering her cellphone to look at the pic she had just taken. Simon tensed, his first instinct being to bark at her to delete the photo, but then another idea popped into his head.

He lowered you to the ground, stepping behind you before planting his hands firmly on your hips and pulling you back against his chest. "Take another one, Fi. Want t'send one t'my team."

She dutifully took the picture, smiling as she stepped forward to show you both how well it had turned out. "That one's a keeper."

Simon stared down at the picture, liking the way the two of you looked together. A rush of heat coursed through his veins at the sight of his hands on your hips, your hands covering his. He glanced over at your face as you studied the photo, and he could only describe your expression as incandescent; you were bloody glowing.

His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you into his side as his eyes met yours. "Yeah," he murmured. "Definitely a keeper."

-

Simon ended up with dozens of photos saved on his phone by the time the festival was over. His favorite was the one Fiona had first taken, the one where he was holding you up in his arms, your heads together. He set that one as his screensaver.

However, the one he viewed the most was the one he took at the bonfire the last night of the festival.

He took it during the bonfire dance, you and the other dancers circling the high flames as you swayed and undulated in a jaw-dropping, frenzied dance that had wrecked his world. His heart had been beating as hard as the drums, his eyes fixated on you with a predatory intensity.

Then you had looked at him.

You had seen him in the crowd, a teasing, open-mouthed smile directed his way as your arms lifted over your head and you rolled your hips in a move that punched the air out of his lungs. He had lifted his phone and snapped the photo, capturing the moment.

He captured your sultry smile, that hooded gaze that was meant just for him. Your body's curves stood out in stark relief against the dark, your silken skin aglow from the flames. Every time he looked at it, he ended up in the loo with his cock in his hand, choking back his groans as he desperately fisted himself to completion.

It was bloody torture watching you disappear into your own bedroom later that night, every cell of his body on fire with the need to follow you. He didn't, but he wanted to. It was the fear of losing you that finally had him shuffling off to his own room, settling for your photo and his calloused hand.

It was on Sunday afternoon that he got a notification that the team was in their private group chat. You and Fi were gone to the shops, and he was sitting on the patio, drinking a Stella and enjoying the garden. Might as well join in, he thought; he had nothing better to do at the moment.

As soon as he entered the chat, Soap and Gaz started asking for details about the festival and, of course, you. Feeling a bit sadistic, the first photos he shared were of the green, the bonfire, the pub.

[SOAP]: Come on LT. U ken what we want! Show us a pic of ur doll. 😏 [GHOST]: No [GAZ]: Pleeeeaaaase!!! 🙏🏿🥺 [PRICE]: Bloody hell. Ignore them, lad. [GAZ]: We just want to see her Cap... [SOAP]: Is she ugly? I bet shes ugly. [PRICE]: SOAP! [GHOST]: Far from it johnny [SOAP]: Ur killn us LT! Just 1 pic pls pls pls!!! [PRICE]: Stand down, Sgts! Jesus Christ!

Simon couldn't help himself. He wanted to show you off. There was a smug smile on his face when he forwarded them the photos of you in a zip file.

There was a minute of inactivity, then the messages began to ping in rapid fire succession.

[GAZ]: That's ur doll?! She's bloody gorgeous, m8! 👍🏿 [SOAP]: sTEAMn fUKnJESUS!!!! [SOAP]: Insta-chub 👀🍆 [PRICE]: Well done, lad! She's a beauty. [SOAP]: Shes ded bonnie. U should introduce me 😈 [GAZ]: When can we meet her??? Is her friend single? 😏 [PRICE]: Behave, lads...

Simon huffed in amusement, feeling rather cocky as he began typing.

[GHOST]: Thx cap. [GHOST]: Her friend is single gaz. [GHOST]: U can suck it johnny. She's MY doll [GAZ]: Yeah. Suck it Soap! 😅 [SOAP]: Fair enough but... [SOAP]: Can I keep the pic of her @ the bonfire? [PRICE]: Christ. I need bloody a drink. Congrats, Simon. *(PRICE has left the chat.) [GHOST]: Hm. Just the one pic? [SOAP]: 🙏🥺 PLS??? [GHOST]: LOL [GHOST]: Hell NO [SOAP]: 😭 [GAZ]: 🤣🤣🤣

-

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@stillinracooncity @cumikering @cutiecusp @deadbranch @ghostlythots @thetiredtoad0-0 @glitterypirateduck @gothgirl6-6-6 @sofasoap @cathnoneofyourbusiness @shuttlelauncher81 @luminousbeings-crudematter @crunchlite @delilah-grimes @bobochacha @igotmajordaddyissues

-

[crowdeerdire]

Incredibly stupid Our Life AU - Ribfest

Background: Where I live there's an event going on called "Ribfest" where a ton of vendors come out, selling, as you can guess: ribs! It's really good! But... to get people interested in their stalls, they have 'conventionally attractive' people standing out front, wearing tank tops and shorts and handing out samples (mostly BBQ sauce to get you interested in their products). Because I'm a silly little goose, my mind went to: 'what if the OLBA boys were those conventionally attractive people standing out front to get people to try their BBQ'... Synopise: OLBA boys volunteer their time to help a friend in a rib competition by attracting customers to their stands with samples. (would take place in Step 4 after all the events for the sake of y'all being friends!)

Cove

Would be generally comfortable in the outfit (reminder: tank tops and shorts because it's hot af outside, but also designed to attract the customers ;) ), but trying to persuade passer-bys to try the sample would be hard at first

We know he can do that kind of stuff because he volunteers for ORCA and he's done it in the past for the funraising event

BUT

this time he knows the concept around why he was choosen and is dressed up like this

he's eye candy to get people to try BBQ

If he got to do it with someone else (i.e. Derek or MC) I think he would relax a bit more and maybe get into it, especially by Step 4 I see him a lot more comfortable in his own skin

If he was working with Baxter, I think he would still be awkward af (you'll see in a minute)

but if he's left on the front lines all by himself, he would be blushing and awkwardly standing there as people check him out and the booth he's working at

might be sweating bullets

get this man some WATER before he passes out

but since he did volunteer he would try his best and be geninuely friendly, I think? 'No pressure if you don't wanna try! But you should!! It's really good!!' *smiles*

btw would go 10x as red and be 10x as awkward if MC whistles and cat calls him (as a joke)

in the end he would try his best!

Baxter

Step 4 Baxter would get into it

Maybe a little embarrassed by the concept at first, knowing why he was choosen as eye candy to get people to try BBQ, but it wouldn't take him long to get into it

he understands a good business opportunity when he sees one

I think he would really get into it

like giving people a sly wink and a smirk

urging them to come over with his nice voice, almost purring

like I think this man is smooth when he's just playing

when he's not and genuinly likes someone, he's awkward af (but that's another story)

I think he would also be really good at remembering repeat customers??

like he would know why they're coming back, but would still play with them and be like 'Oh, how wonderful~ You came back for more?' with a smirk and a wink

making people giggle and blush

If he's working with the others I think he would play off them well, even try to help someone as nervous as Cove to relax a bit (or a nervous MC)

In the end I would think he would somehow find himself in the back, running the show rather then being up front. Somehow - even if he doesn't really know the friend he's helping. He just has good business sense

Derek

Derek is mister sunshine

If he's been asked to help, even if it's from a distant friend, he's putting 110% effort into it

Embarrassed by the concept of why he's dressed that way/put on display... BUT!!

he still tries REALLY hard

I think he would be the type that's kind of loud - cheering and getting people's attention?

But if that was getting a bad reaction (depending on the crowd) he would be calm and super nice, like Cove. Not wanting to pressure you into trying the BBQ, but SUPER excited when you do

If he got a sale because of his samples, he would high five who ever he's working with - or maybe a random stranger lol

he's just such a happy go lucky guy on the outside (although we all know the truth... but shush...)

working with others he would get really pumped up - especially with Cove and MC

Might be awkward with Baxter at first but I honestly see them getting along???

tbh Derek will just be a great sales person

big hype man

a/n: Hi, this is dumb but I couldn't get this out of my head and being really into Our Life lately has gotten me wanting to write again.. :))) Maybe I'll write more? Also I apologize if any of the characters seem OOC or anything. I was really trying to get them down right, but idk :))))

dividers by: @/cafekitsune

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

(waves happily) Just me again. What do you think is the most meaningful present any of the Holbrook characters have ever received?

Steve Murphy: Javi got him a pair of colorful socks for Christmas! They’re wool, and actually handwoven, but he just bought them last minute from a vendor near the embassy - there wasn’t much thought behind them aside from “huh, might wanna get Steve a Christmas gift”. Steve was SO touched that Javi thought of him. He didn’t need to! He’s not obligated like Connie is! He played it cool at the office, but he thinks of them as his lucky socks and wears them on raids.

Donald Pierce: Oh I’m totally HC’ing that the gold ring he wears the whole movie (on his left ring finger!) was a gift from Gabby and one of his most precious belongings. Maybe it’s not quite a wedding ring, but it signifies *something*, and sometimes when he was stressed she used to playfully kiss the ring. He rubs it a lot when he’s anxious.

Cap Hatfield: Oh absolutely the gun Jim gave him! It’s his most treasured possession! And it’s from his favorite relative! Win-win!

Clement Mansell: Aw, I think Sweetie gave him vinyl copies of his music, and he was so touched he actually got real choked up. He played it for Sandy once and got kind of annoyed she didn’t seem as impressed as she should’ve been.

The Corinthian: Ooh I HC that the knives he has are made by Dream, and they get swapped out every generation or so to keep up with the times. He adores all of them, but his absolute favorite was the vicious pair of katar knives he sported in the 16th century.

Eli Klaber: He had a brief stint working as a switchboard operator, and was friendly with one of the girls in the steno pool. He complimented the perfume she always wore, and on his last day she gave him a small bottle.

Ty Shaw: When he was in his early thirties Abby led all their siblings in a joint effort to make him a quilt! The stitches are a little wonky, and it’s definitely not the prettiest thing in the world, but they were all so proud to present it to him, and he absolutely cried when he saw it! He keeps it on his bed at all times, but is so careful with it too.

Quinn McKenna: His wife was kind enough to present him with the divorce papers herself! All he had to do was sign! Sure he lost custody of the kid and Emily kept the house, but it’s not like he was really using either of those much anyway!

[captn-trex]

technical devotion, part eight: playing the part

content warnings: minor description of panic around crowds

last chapter | next chapter | master list | join the taglist

“What the-”

Kan jumped as she reached the bottom of the stairs and looked at the droid that was sat lazily at the kitchen table. She then realised it was not a droid at all.

“Echo, you scared me” She laughed slightly, and Echo flipped up the mask of his disguise.

“Pretty convincing right?”

“Yeah, maybe if you weren't sat like a man” She smirked at his distinctly human posture and he chuckled. “I've gotta say, when you said you had a disguise this is not what I was expecting”

“Well maybe that bodes well for my disguise then” He smirked a little, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yep” Kan smiled, grabbing her bag, “Let's get going”

Kan and Echo ventured into town, having heard there was a market in the square today. They were yet to really meet anyone here, and Echo had decided it was easier for him to walk around as a ‘droid’, going unnoticed, instead of trying to explain to people why he was more machine than man, as he often put it.

The square was bursting with life. It was wonderfully decorated with banners and plants, and the large fountain in the middle served as a place of rest for parents and a play area for their kids. There were vendors selling an assortment of things, from food to spare parts and clothes, and it was positively a melting pot of people from all over the galaxy. There was not one presiding race, and Kan was thankful, her olive green Mirialan skin not making her stand out for once.

Despite the cheerful cast of characters in the square, it was lined by men in white plastoid armour, the only ones who managed to stand out in this environment. Stormtroopers.

“You should get talking to some people” Echo said quietly, his voice modulated by his mask. Kan almost didn't realise it was him talking to her.

“Yeah alright, give me a minute” Kan looked around, a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things going on. She figured she'd start at a food vendor, somewhere they could actually do with visiting.

“Hello there ma'am, how are you today?” The Weequay vendor smiled warmly.

“I'm well, how are you?” Kan replied.

Echo couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes as Kan got into a conversation with the vendor that could not be described as short. She asked about her life, how she had ended up on this planet and about her family. Though it was sweet how much she truly cared about other people and wanted to connect with them, this really wasn't the time for it.

As they walked away from the stand with a paper bag full of vegetables, Kan got distracted by another stand selling food, and Echo grabbed her arm subtlely to stop her.

“We’re not just here to chat and buy food, start talking to some of the locals” He said quietly.

Kan huffed, “Alright, fine”

“I'm gonna take a walk around, see what I can hear” Echo said, walking off to her right before she got the chance to reply.

Kan looked around the square, and decided to just take the plunge. She approached a friendly looking Zabrak woman who was sat by herself at the fountain, smiling at the children playing in the water.

“Excuse me, I'm sorry to disturb you” Kan began, and the woman looked to her with an openness that made her continue, “I'm new to town, could you possibly tell me a little bit about what goes on around here?”

“Of course” She smiled, and patted the place next to her.

Kan took the seat, and they fell into conversation about the customs of the town, market on every second and fourth day of the week, and a communal celebration every few weeks on the fifth day, which included mostly food stands and dancing, among other festivities. The Zabrak, who had since introduced herself as Rhidi, told her about the mayor, pointing them out amongst the crowd of small children that they were playing with.

“It's lovely here, the community seems to be really thriving” Kan said, looking back to Rhidi to see her hesitancy before speaking.

“It is, I must admit it has been different lately” She said, a twinge of indignance in her tone.

“How so?” Kan asked, feigning innocence.

“There's just… a lot more of an imperial presence here nowadays” She began, trying to gauge Kan's opinion on the matter, “Which is fine! of course, it's just… different”

“Oh right…” Kan said, looking around at the stormtroopers patrolling the square, “When did they get here?”

“Around two standard months ago, there was suddenly double the troops, then triple, it happened so quickly” Rhidi said, keeping her voice hushed.

“Something important must be going on then” Kan prompted her.

“They've set up some kind of base for experimentation, technological I think, but that's all I know about it” She said, then sat up straighter, “But anyway, that's pretty much there is to know around here”

Kan understood and followed suit, “Thank you so much Rhidi, it was a pleasure to meet you”

“And you…”

“Oh! I'm uh- Ech-a” Kan immediately cursed her stupid mouth for speaking before she could think properly about what she was saying. “Short for Gekavi” She tried to salvage her blunder with the reasonably common Mirialan name.

“Well, I hope to see around again Eka” Rhidi said with a smile, standing up and brushing off her skirt as Kan cringed at the use of the name.

“Me too” She managed to smile before Rhidi walked away.

Kan stood and looked around the square for someone who seemed like they might know something more about the imperial presence here. That's when she noticed a man in an imperial officer's clothing watching her, a subtle smirk on his lips. She tore her eyes away and made her way around the outside of the square, and then back towards the man, bumping into him with her shoulder a little too harshly.

“Oh! I'm so sorry, forgive me” She looked up at him with widened eyes and all the innocence she could.

“It's no worry miss” He smiled at her warmly, readjusting his uniform, “You're new around here aren't you?”

“Oh dear, is it that obvious?” She said, her hand on her cheek out of fake embarrassment.

The officer chuckled, “I just don't remember seeing you before”

“Ah well, I've just moved in. I'm Gekavi” She doubled down on the name while holding out her hand and he took it in a soft grasp.

“Captain Levy” He gave his own name. He was truthfully quite a handsome man, dark curly hair that fell over his forehead neatly, dark blue eyes, and a pleasant smile.

“Captain huh? That's impressive” Kan smiled up at him disarmingly.

“Should be Commander soon” The Captain smirked at her a little, and Kan could tell he was all too happy to show off to her. This is too easy.

“Woah, how come?” She asked innocently, a small smile quirking the corner of her mouth.

“Cant tell you that I’m afraid Miss, top secret” He said with a little wink.

“Aw, that’s too bad”

Echo looked around the square from the corner, trying to keep his appearance distinctly droid-like. He finally found Kan, but his breath caught as he saw her fluttering her eyelashes up at a man - an Imperial officer - and touching his arm gently. He couldn't help the feeling of jealousy and borderline anger that bubbled up in his gut, and he made his way towards them slowly.

Kan caught the sight of Echo over Captain Levy's shoulder and felt the need to wrap up the conversation.

“Well I should be getting home, it was nice to meet you Captain, almost Commander” She smirked up at him.

“It’s Drass, but it was nice to meet you too Gekavi” He replied with a charming smile, and Kan waved goodbye before she heard him calling out to her again, “Will you be attending the festivities tomorrow?”

“I'm not sure, I still have a lot of settling in to be doing” She replied a little nervously to invite him to try and convince her.

“Well, I hope to see you there nonetheless” He smiled.

She batted her eyelashes at him for a moment, chewing on her lip, “I'll think about it”. She smiled at him and then left, noting him watching her walk away. Echo came to walk beside her as she rounded the corner to their dwelling, and she jumped a little at his sudden presence.

“That was great” She grinned at him, and his heart sunk just a little.

“It was?” He looked at her, jaw grinding when she nodded, “We're not here to just flirt with Imperials you know”

“I wasn't really flirting” Kan screwed up her face at the accusation, placing down the grocery bag on the kitchen table, “But that man is one compliment away from spilling everything. I think we should go to these ‘festivities’ tomorrow”

“So you can flirt with this man some more?” Echo asked, and Kan looked at him with disbelief and apprehension to his strange line of questioning.

“Fake flirting, there's nothing attractive about being with the empire” She pointed out, “I think he's a good first try in any case, and if we go to this thing tomorrow we might find other opportunities”

Echo conceded with a grunt, “Okay, if you say so”

Kan frowned as Echo walked into his room and shut the door. She was getting a little tired of the way he would suddenly act different around her, and she couldn't help but feel that she had done something wrong, once again. She didn't like the way his mood affected her own thoughts, and didn’t understand why she would let it happen. Had it not been the right thing to do to get the attention of an Imperial Captain? Or soon to be Commander, if he was to be believed - that seemed like a good connection to have made.

“Echo, are you coming this thing tonight?” Kan asked from outside his bedroom door.

Echo had taken to staying in his room any time that he wasn't eating or out walking around town and listening in on conversations. That was the way he had found out where their main base of operations was earlier on in the day.

He opened the door, the crease in his brow softening as he looked down at Kan. She wore a short white sleeveless dress, a red waistcoat with the top button done up, and a pair of brown leather boots. Her collarbones were adorned by a small golden necklace, and her hair tied into two pigtails with white ribbons. She looked positively breath taking, and Echo's breath had certainly been taken.

“Uh- I, um- I might stay here” He stuttered out, rubbing his neck as he looked away from her.

“Oh, okay” She said, her shoulders slumping a little.

He noted her deflated tone, “Did you want me to come?”

“I mean… yes. I'm a little nervous about talking to this officer again… and people in general really. It might just be reassuring if you were there, I don't know” She spoke, looking down at her feet, “It's okay if you don't wa-”

“No, I'll come” He replied quickly, “Let me just get changed quickly”

“Okay” Kan smiled as he closed the door, and she sat down at the kitchen table waiting for him. Within a few minutes, the door opened again and Echo stepped out in his droid disguise. Kan desperately wanted to ask him why he had chosen to disguise himself as a droid for this mission, but she decided that another time would be better.

The pair left their dwelling, into the darkness of the night, and made their way to the park just around the corner, where the event was taking place. Echo noted the way that Kan's hands tightened into fists as she looked around the festivities nervously.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” He asked quietly.

“No, I mean- maybe stay close by, but you don't need to be right here if you don't want to. I- I'll be fine, uh- being by myself, um, if you're nearby” She replied, her brain scattered by the amount of people around.

“Hey” Echo said, pulling her around the corner and out of the view of everyone else. He flipped up his mask to talk to her, “If you're uncomfortable, we can go back, you're under no obligation to get information this way”

Kan looked up into his eyes as he leaned his hand on the wall next to her. She found them entirely captivating, a soft brown colour that was different from any of the other clones she had encountered. The intensity of his gaze calmed her from her previous worries, but his proximity had her heart racing.

“No, it's okay. I just- crowds can be a little much for me, but it's fine”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Yes, It'll be fine” She assured him. and he stepped back, flipping his mask down.

“Okay, let's do it” He said, gesturing for her to re-join the celebration.

Feeling emboldened by his actions, and having a need to feel safe, Kan grabbed ahold of Echo's hand, and pulled him gently through the crowd.

Echo felt as if his body had been set alight by the simple touch, and he knew that his cheeks must be bright red under his mask. His knees felt weak just from such a small gesture, but he kept his form rigid, continuing his droid-like appearance. He looked down at their hands and smiled to himself. Kan's hand was so different from his own. It was smaller, with slender fingers, but that made it fit so perfectly into his.

As they emerged from the crowd, they noticed that they were at the edge of a dance floor. Couples danced around giddily, some old, some young. With Echo's hand grounding her in the uncomfortable situation, Kan looked around and truly appreciated the beauty of the moment.

Echo felt Kan slip her fingers between his, and he looked over to her to see her looking around the festival with a smile on her face. His heart lurched at the sight. The orange glow of the warm lights scattered around the park lit her face so perfectly, bringing out each curve and dimple there was to see. For the first time, he noticed a thin scar that ran along the back of her jaw, stretching towards her ear. The urge to reach out and trace his finger along it almost overtook him, but his thoughts were interrupted as someone approached them and Kan took her hand from his.

“Eka! It's good to see you” Rhidi approached Kan with a wide smile, who in turn cringed at the fake name.

“Rhidi, you too” She smiled politely.

“I'm just on the way to find my wife, but I'll see you later!” She waved as she made her way past them, and Kan waved back, though Rhidi wouldn't have seen it.

“Eka huh?” Echo said tauntingly from beside her and Kan rolled her eyes, “Sounds awfully like someone I know…”

“Ugh, I panicked okay?” She looked at the clone, “From now on, if anyone asks my name is Gek-”

“Gekavi! You came”

Kan turned and her eyes landed on Captain Levy, making his way towards her with a wide grin. She plastered a similar expression on her own face as she greeted him.

“Captain Levy, how lovely to see you”

“Please, just Drass is fine” He insisted, “And I must say, you look absolutely gorgeous tonight”

“Oh, thank you Drass” Kan replied shyly, “You look pretty handsome yourself”

Echo felt like throwing up.

“Thank you my dear” Drass held out his hand, “May I have this dance?”

“Oh” Kan said, genuinely surprised, and hooked her pinky finger with Echo's for a moment. The Captain had not acknowledged him at all, and still didn't as he slipped the rest of his fingers into Kan's and gave her hand a firm squeeze - a quick reminder that she didn't have to do this.

“Okay then” She said, and took his hand with her free one. She looked back to Echo as she did, her hand lingering in his as she let herself be dragged away by the other man.

Echo hated the sight of it with a burning passion. His hand dropping from hers and her walking away with another man. His infatuation with Kan was admittedly rather new, but the sight in front of him just felt wrong, and his jaw tightened with indignance. He watched as the man, perfect in all ways as far as Echo could understand, swept Kan off her feet figuratively, and then literally, as the dance called for it. He tried to reassure himself that Kan was just pretending, but either she was a really good actor, or she was genuinely enjoying herself.

Self-conscious thoughts crept into Echo's mind from the dark corners of his brain, clawing their way out from hiding. I could never dance with her like that. Even if she wanted to, I don't have a hand to offer her. She looks much happier with this man, and he's an imperial of all people. And the worst thought of them all, she would never want someone like me.

Echo's breathing became shallow and he struggled to keep his rigid exterior. Kan danced with Captain Levy for a few songs, and Echo just tried to focus on the music, the band playing instruments he had never seen before. If he wasn't so distracted he'd be interested in finding out what they were. It seemed that the pair were talking about something in depth, swapping thoughts on a subject.

Then, it was time for a slow number. Kan looked hesitant, but the Captain seemingly convinced her, and they took up a more intimate position, swaying to the music together. They appeared to still be conversing a lot as they did so, Kan asking lots of questions, as was her inquisitive nature.

Echo was so vividly jealous that he started feeling dizzy.

Luckily, the song ended, and Kan said goodbye to the Captain and made her way back over to Echo. She grabbed his hand and said firmly, “We're leaving”

The feel of Kan's hand in his once more dissipated the rage that his jealousy had caused. She gripped him tightly as she wove her way through the crowd and out the other side. She didn’t relent in her grip until they were back in their dwelling, and she was pacing back and forth.

“What happened? It looked like you were enjoying yourself” Echo noted, and Kan whirled on him, pointing a finger to his chest.

“I was not. That man is nothing if not vile. He-” She said angrily, and Echo was taken aback. He had never seen her be angry at all, let alone so fiercely like this.

“He what?”

“He was- It doesn't matter” She shook her head, “He let slip the nature of what's going on here, among other things”

“Oh wow, you work fast” Echo tried to ease the tension with a small joke, and she did chuckle a little before her face fell.

“It's some kind of weapon, something that can be fitted to one-man fighters, or used on the ground. He didn't say exactly what it did, but he definitely used the word ‘destruction’ more than once” She spoke solemnly.

“Oh kriff” Was all Echo could say.

“Yeah” Kan sighed, and slumped into a kitchen chair. She pulled her knees to her chest as she often did.

“Why didn't you enjoy yourself? What did he do?” Echo asked, taking a step towards her.

“He-” She huffed, “He was just saying some really nasty stuff” She looked away from him, and Echo knelt on the floor in front of her.

“About you?”

“No, about… clones” She admitted.

Echo sighed, “Well, that's to be expected maybe, he is an imper-”

“That's not the point. The clones- you're a person Echo, and people just talk about you like you're a piece of dirt on their shoe. It's disgusting that people can be so cruel”

Echo found his heart melting at Kan's words for the millionth time. Her anger on his behalf was admirable.

“It’s okay Kan, that's just how it is”

“Well it shouldn’t be” She pouted, crossing her arms over her knees. Echo couldn’t help but smirk at her childlike actions as he stood again. “You're laughing at me”

“I'm not laughing” Echo smiled wider, a small laugh escaping.

“Yeah yeah, and I'm the queen of Naboo” Kan rolled her eyes and stood from her seat, making her way towards the stairs.

“Kan” Echo called after her, and she turned to look at him. He hesitated a little before he spoke, “Look, that man may have been an idiot in the end, but… he was right, you look really nice”

Kan smiled broadly at the compliment, her cheeks darkening, “Thanks Echo”

He just smiled at her, “No problem, I'll see you tomorrow” He walked over to the door to his room and disappeared inside.

Kan stayed stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment longer, her blush only growing deeper. Though she would not admit it, she truly had Echo in mind when she dressed herself for the night's festivities, and despite the devastating news of this weapon the imperials were building, she felt elated that he had acknowledged her appearance, and even complimented it. Maybe I'm getting somewhere with him…

[jennaispunk]

Gift of a Friend

Summary: An unlikely meeting leads to something unexpected.

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Talia)

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none. This is just fluff (sorry not sorry). A “This is how they met” story. It’s just two people who could use a friend finding each other. Maybe it might lead to more…..

Notes: I wrote this for the @swiftiscruff friendship exchange. This is for you @sawymredfox!!! I hope you like this. Thank you for being brave and reaching out to me. Look at us, two introverts making a connection lol. You are too sweet and my world would be a little less bright without you in it. Love you. 💜💜

The title is from a Demi Levato song.

Thank you @fallingforthearch for being my beta.

graphics and support banners by the amazing @saradika-graphics

The sounds of the bazaar filled her ears: children laughing… vendors calling out sometimes in their native tongue and sometimes in basic, peddling their fruits and vegetables or homemade goods. The sun beat down on the dirt as she made her way through the bustle and cacophony, looking for a few things to make up her dinner for the evening.

Another long shift at the hospital had come and gone, mainly assisting with patching up drunken patrons from the cantina whose mouths had earned them a fist to the jaw or the nose.

Gathering the last things she needed, she headed to her small home, ready to finally relax and maybe start the new book she’d been dying to read. The sound of babbling behind her caught her attention. She looked down to see a small green creature looking up at her. His big dark eyes looked up at her curiously, almost as if he knew her. He babbled again and reached his arms out to her.

“Hey, little buddy…. Are you all alone? Where’s your mama?”

Her eyes darted, searching the crowd. He was an unusual looking creature. Not a species she had ever seen before, but so adorable. Surely, someone must be looking for him.

His ears twitched, and he made a sound that sounded almost like a whine. He instantly lifted his arms again, and she scooped him up. The little creature babbled happily in her arms. She stared at him, feeling a sense of comfort and peace with this little guy she hadn’t felt in a long time. She felt he was trying to communicate with her, even though all his sounds were only gibberish.

“Do you speak Basic?” Talia asked. “Can you tell me where your parents are?”

The little green creature babbled again, tilting his head. His little hand reached out to touch her face. She softly gasped at the unexpected contact but relaxed as she felt the warmth and comfort wash over her.

“There you are…”

Her eyes shot up to behold a broad man clad in armor and a helmet. She recognized his armor immediately; he was a Mandalorian. She blinked rapidly at him, her tongue briefly peeking out to wet her lips.

“He's yours?”

“Yes…he belongs to me.” His voice was devoid of emotion through the modulator. He stood rigid and tall, an unmoving statue. The sun created an almost halo-like ring around him, making him look like some ancient god she’d read about in a novel.  

“Friendly little guy, isn’t he?”

“He doesn’t usually like a lot of people.” His response was short and to the point.

A puff of air escaped her lips as the little green creature babbled in her arms. This mysterious Mandalorian was so hard to read and apparently not one for conversation.

“Come on, Grogu. It’s time to go home.”

Her brow ticked skyward. It was an interesting name. The little guy completely ignored him, continuing to coo and play with strands of her blonde hair swirling in the gentle breeze.

He exhaled loudly, his right knee jutting out slightly as his hands went to his hips.

“Grogu…”

The tone of his voice made Grogu’s ears droop slightly and he pouted for just a moment before leaping from her arms and returning to his Mandalorian.

He scooped Grogu into his arms and turned away without another word. She huffed. Was he just going to walk away without a word? She opened her mouth to insult him, but Grogu’s high-pitched noises stopped her. The Mandalorian stopped as well, keeping his back to her but turning his head to the side.

“Thank you…for looking out for him.”

She called out to his retreating form, her arms crossed tight across her chest. “You’re welcome.”

“Mudscuffer.” she added under her breath.

Din walked away with Grogu babbling in his arms, reaching back toward Talia. Din shook his head, a strange feeling in his chest. Something about that girl intrigued him. Maybe it was how sweet she was with Grogu. Perhaps it was the way she called him a Mudscuffer when she thought he couldn’t hear. She had spunk, and he found himself wanting to see her again.

Halfway through the bazaar, she realized her mistake. The shopkeeper offered his son to carry the packages home for her, but she refused, her pride overruling common sense. She’d been saving for months to buy this easel and canvases, and she didn’t want another set of hands all over it. Besides, she’d made it this long on her own, and she could do this too.

“Dank Farrik!”  she groaned, adjusting the packages in her hands, determined to make it back home without dropping them.

Din watched her from a distance as she struggled, silently chuckling to himself. She was a stubborn one, too damn prideful to ask for help. His heart stirred at the sight.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

Taking the packages into his arms with little effort, he looked down at her, his helmet hiding his smirk.

She stared at him, opening her mouth to speak then closing it again. She hadn’t expected to see him again, although he had managed to find a way into her thoughts over the last few days.

 Before she could speak, Grogu took the opportunity to jump into her arms.

“Hello, little friend.” She laughed as she booped his nose.

“Which way?” he asked. The glint of his armor caught her eye as he shifted his weight.

“Oh, uh…. this way.” Her hand jutted out in the direction of her place.

An awkward silence fell over them like a heavy fog as they walked toward her house, neither one willing to break the tension. His boots softly scuffed the dirt in a steady rhythm, lulling her into a strange sense of comfortability.

“Do you have a name?” Her voice cut through the silence. “Or should I just call you Mando?”

One of his shoulders raised slightly.

“I figured you’d just call me Mudscuffer.” His chuckle was like a soft whisper through the modulator.

She swallowed hard and fixed her eyes on the road. She couldn’t believe he’d heard her say that. She thought he was out of earshot when she let that slip.

“My name is Din.”  

“Talia,” she offered before he even had a chance to ask. His head turned slightly toward her, giving her an almost imperceptible nod.

He sat the package down in her living room and straightened, admiring the small space. It was sparsely decorated but cozy—like a home. A worn bookshelf stood tall in the corner, filled with books and a few small trinkets. He wondered what sort of books lined those shelves and if she imagined herself in those worlds as she read them.

She watched him standing in her living room, the sun beaming in and reflecting off his Beskar armor. She found herself wanting to know more about him…. anything about him, really.

“Thanks for your help.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. Grogu shuffled around on the floor, fascinated by the space.  His coos filled the air, punctuating the uneasiness between them.

“You’re welcome.”

She opened her packages and set up her easel by the window, adjusting it a few times to find the perfect angle to catch the light. The canvases were stacked neatly into the corner under the small shelving holding a small assortment of paints and brushes.

“You paint?”

Din could almost imagine her sitting by this window; tiny speckles of paint freckled across her cheek, her brow furrowed in concentration as she worked. The sunlight streaming down, illuminating her golden locks, would have been breathtaking.

“I’m getting back into it again. I had to save for a while before I could afford a new easel and a few pieces of canvas.”

He quietly cleared his throat, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to talking to people. He couldn’t remember the last time he had an actual conversation with someone. Talking to her was…nice. His cheeks flushed under his armor, and he was grateful she couldn’t see his face. He was a bounty hunter and a trained warrior, not some little boy with a crush.

“Would you and Grogu like to stay and have dinner with me? It’d be nice to have some company for a change.” Her cheeks burned with heat as she asked the question. Her heartbeat quickened with every moment he was silent.

“Thank you for the offer, but Grogu and I should be going.”  He didn’t know how to explain to her that his creed forbade him from revealing his face to anyone but his riduur. That was a conversation for another time. He’d broken that vow once and endured too much to redeem himself to risk it again.

Her chin briefly tilted toward the floor before she returned her gaze to his helmet with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

 “Sure…. maybe another time.”

His chest tightened as he collected Grogu. This feeling was strange to him—this feeling of wanting to connect with someone. He’d spent his whole life without any real attachment to anyone until Grogu. Now, he found himself wanting to be in her presence, wanting something with her that he always longed for but denied himself: a friend…and maybe something more.

Without thinking, he stopped in the doorway and turned back to her.

“Our home is just outside the city. If you’re ever interested, there’s plenty of good lighting and landscape to paint.”

The words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them.

“I’m sure Grogu would like it if you came to visit sometime when you’re free. He seems to like you.”

Her smile could have lit up the deepest mines of Mandalore. This mysterious stranger had her completely captivated. She’d realized how much she missed having someone to just be with… someone to fill that void of loneliness she tried to ignore for so long.

“I’d like to visit Grogu sometime, too.”