#they always want to support the tourist over the local

[alolapokemon]

Okay. Here is the tea.

I got to the market early to set up my stand (magicarp jerky, dried seaweed, and some art projects by me). Usually at these events, Prima is the main draw to the stall, she always makes sure I decorate her with her best ornaments. This week, I decided to bring the Jangmo-o for his first market. He's (about) four years old now and socialization is so important for dragons.

Well, it start off great! It's the off-season so I didn't expect many tourists, and the Jangmo-o already knows how to behave around the locals. Prima is always willing to stare him down if he tries anything. He ended up just falling asleep, a bit overwhelmed.

However, then the tourists descended.

It apparently was a holiday weekend in Kanto, because the market was crowded with Kantoian tourists. (At least I was making a lot of sales.)

Well this couple comes up with their kid. And the kid is SO excited to try the jerky. I'm happy, easy sale, you gotta keep the kids happy on vacation. Well.

I did not notice that the kid had a gyrados shirt on. Very important detail.

As the kid is chomping away at the jerky, his dad decides this is a great time to mention that magicarp are the pre-evolution TO gyrados.

Who is this kids favorite pokemon.

Silence.

And the kid just starts bawling in front of the stand. The mother starts yelling at the dad. And the Jangmo-o wakes up in an overwhelmed panic. And he starts attacking everything.

So now we have a screaming child, a panicking Jangmo-o, and my poor stand in the middle of it all, all eyes on me.

Prima and I managed to calm down Jangmo-o with mild damage, and I put him in his pokeball to rest. Great. Everything is going well. The parents drag the kid away without asking for a refund. Yes. Going well.

Tourists come. Tourists go. I let Jangmo-o back out. He's much more excitable now, and I watch him greet tourists. Finally, social interactions! I am a successful dragon trainer.

And then this Karenskhan comes. You know the stereotype. She is all up in my face with questions, tries to touch Jangmo-o without asking, the like. Whatever, I deal with this all the time. Standard Karenskhan stuff. She buys a pack of jerky and leave

An hour later she comes back demanding a refund because and I quote, "You hurt my sunflora's belly!"

Sunflora. Are not carnivorous. They are not even omnivorous. They eat plants and plants alone. The poor sunflora looked incredibly ill.

"You should not be feeding meat to a sunflora," I told her.

That set her off. "Don't tell me what to do! I know how to take care of my pokemon!" Everything you hear.

And then she knocked over my table. And all my product goes everywhere. Completely ruining weeks of work. I just.

Jangmo-o, at least, is distracted by this. He begins tearing through the entire pile and making a huge show of himself. Tourists are taking pictures, the Karenskhan is yelling, I just want to be on my boat.

Then, this idiot comes up in the middle of this shouting, and says, "Wow! A jangmo-o! I thought they were illegal to own!"

I kid you not that the Karenskhan had the nastiest smile on her face for a moment.

And she accused me. Me. Of poaching a jangmo-o.

Jangmo-o, one of the most highly protected species in Alola. Only allowed to be owned by trainers who have completely finished their Island Trials and even then with special permits.

I don't want to repeat what I said. It got the police running to the scene, at least.

Of course, the Karenskhan tells them her sob story while I'm sitting there, holding Jangmo-o. And one of the police ask me to give them Jangmo-o, "until we figure out what is going on."

That was not happening. Prima knew it. I knew it. I hope Jangmo-o knows it too.

The tapus don't fully hate me, because who shows up but Olivia herself to vouch for me. She talks to the officers and the tourist is taken away from my booth, but.

I was so scared for a moment, of them taking the Jangmo-o away.

I packed up after that. I will be back in a few weeks, but I am so done with people.

[merakiui]

RABU.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, brief nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied murder/death, implied cannibalism, pregnancy, obsession note - i chatted with @heyyy11 and we discussed noodle shop owner jade!! :D this fic is the result of our thoughts. additionally, it's inspired by maretu's "binomi" and lyrics featured are from mitski's "me and my husband."

i. i steal a few breaths from the world for a minute. and then i’ll be nothing forever. and all of my memories and all of the things i have seen will be gone. with my eyes, with my body, with me.

There’s a pot of perpetual stew sitting on the stove.

It fills the small shop with savory scents, enthralling all who catch its delicious aroma on the air. Your husband of twenty years tends to it every now and then, lifting the lid to stir through its contents with a large wooden spoon. Regulars stop by for a fix of his food and comment much the same thing each time: “That husband of yours sure loves his stew.”

“Oh, he can’t get enough,” you would always reply, giggling at their observations.

You would then scrawl their usual orders in your notepad and they’d give you a knowing look. Still so infatuated even though two decades have passed—aren’t you the sweetest? But you can’t help it. Your husband is everything: affectionate, attentive, a masterful chef…

His forever single twin brother often groused that Jade got all the good fortune. “Y’know, if you’re ever tired of Jade, I’m here for ya,” he’d say, leaning over the counter with a sleazy smirk. “Shrimpy’s free to visit whenever she wants. My arms are always open.”

And Jade would smile tightly at him, brush him away with his broom, all while saying, “I’m afraid the shop’s closed now. You’ll have to come back tomorrow, Floyd.”

He acts in jest. Mostly.

Shortly after your wedding, on your first night as newlyweds, the two of you made a compromise. Jade wanted a family; you weren’t ready to start one. And so, in order to work through this dispute, you came to an agreement: He would be in charge of the prep work for the noodle shop he intended to open—a metaphorical child more than anything. In return, you would take orders and chat with customers. A fair deal, one you thought was attractive in its own right. Jade, ever so patient and understanding, lounged beside you in bed, gesturing towards the ceiling as if attempting to spell out the vision before your very eyes. He spoke so eagerly of his dreams. It warmed your heart.

Naturally, just as passionately, you would support him in his every endeavor.

“What do you think of this name? Rabu Rabu Ramen.”

You rolled over on your side, snuggling closer. You couldn’t snuff the overwhelming elation and tenderness that wrapped itself around you whenever you looked at him. And he was all yours—your husband to love forever, to grow old with, to experience life’s highs and lows together. Your wedding night was just the beginning of what would surely be a riveting romance.

“It’s silly.”

“It’s lovey-dovey.”

“If you like it, I like it.”

“Truly?”

You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Absolutely.”

It wasn’t long before fantasy bled into reality. The both of you found a quaint spot in a quiet neighborhood. It was more hole-in-the-wall than you would’ve liked, but Jade didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes tourists stumbled in, commenting that they would’ve missed it had they not ventured down the narrow path. Jade liked that aspect. It was secretive, peaceful, off the beaten track…

By the end of your first year running the shop, plenty of praise had spread throughout the neighborhood. You learned the locals’ names and faces quickly, committing each to your memory as if there might be an exam later on. They thought you were the cutest, the way you’d take charge of the front while your husband worked diligently in the back. Grandmothers adored you, and they made sure to point out the obvious at every opportunity. 

“Omago-san, it’s too quiet in here! You’re still so young. Plenty of time for a family. Tell that husband of yours to get busy!”

You could only offer an awkward smile. “Maybe one day.”

When that ‘one day’ would be, you couldn’t say.

It’s become something of a widely-held belief that Jade can’t make a single bad dish. Everything on the menu is scrumptious. From the homemade noodles to the variety of broths to the additional ingredients, each prepared by Jade’s adroit hand, it’s a feast for the ravenous. 

Sometimes customers ask for recommendations, and if you aren’t careful you’ll end up fawning over every dish.

“It’s all so amazing, but I like my ramen with bone broth. My husband makes it better than I do.”

It was true. You couldn’t possibly replicate Jade’s skill in the kitchen. At the very least, when it comes to tea, you’re on an even playing field.

“Just what’s his secret anyway?”

To that question, you could only offer a shrug. “Maybe it’s love?”

Jade told you it was a family recipe—a cherished secret passed through the generations. You thought he’d confess at some point now that you’ve been part of the family for so long, but he’s yet to do so. It hurt at first. You’re married! Family! Jade is smooth about the entire thing, promising to tell you one day, easing all of your worries with sugared sentiments. You’re impatient and oh-so-curious, but you force yourself to wait for his sake.

It must be a special secret.

The pot on the stove is an heirloom. It’s old, yet reliable and sturdy. Jade’s mother gifted it to him in the wake of your engagement. Sometimes you think he treasures it more than anything. He’s always hovering near it, having forbidden you from lifting the lid, lest you unintentionally tamper with whatever it is he’s cooking. It smells hearty like meat stew most days, and according to Jade the process is long.

You linger near the stove. A tiny taste wouldn’t hurt, right? After all, Jade cooks things in excess to cure what appears to be an interminable hunger.

But then someone pokes their head inside the shop, calling out a greeting. You move to the front just as Jade returns from the storage room, carrying a crate of vegetables. That taste will have to wait.

Detective Azul Ashengrotto lowers onto a stool at the counter and heaves an exhausted sigh.

“If it isn’t Azul! What brings you here? Tired of the big city?”

Weary hues flick over your face. He manages a smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, (Name). You’re still as energetic as ever.”

“You know it. Every day’s sunny over here.” You rest your elbows on the counter and hum. “Although it’s been awfully slow today.”

“I envy you.” He lifts his hat off of his head to card a hand through tousled hair. Now that you’re looking at him, he seems to have lost some weight. His face is thinner. His eye sockets appear hollow, heavy with shadows. “They’re running me ragged over there. Too many cases. Not enough answers.”

“You ought to take better care of your health.”

“I am—will. I plan to as soon as I wrap up this current case.”

“What’s it about? If you can tell me, that is.”

“A young man went missing near the port. They think he might’ve fallen in and drowned. His wallet was brought up from the seabed, but they haven’t recovered his body yet.”

“How unfortunate… I’m sure his family’s distraught.”

Azul drags a hand down his face and sighs again. “A mess.”

“My, my. It’s been some time since I’ve heard that familiar sigh.”

Lowering his arm, Azul fixes him with a sardonic grin. “How kind of you to join us. I was starting to wonder where you were hiding.”

Jade hums and adjusts his bandana. “Forever confined to the kitchen. My wife is eating for two now.”

A minute ticks by before the realization flashes on Azul’s face. He looks between the both of you, stunned.

“Oh, you’ve—wow. I wasn’t expecting… Ahem. Congratulations.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s talking about his stomach. I’m not pregnant.”

Azul’s countenance shifts through a catalogue of emotions before landing on a scowl. “To think I actually believed you for a moment. I rescind my congratulations.”

“My poor hara, endlessly empty without your sweet sentiments to fill it.”

“And my hara is telling me that you’re going to starve our guest if you keep being silly.” Clicking your tongue at him, you turn your much softer stare on Azul. “The usual, right?”

“Oh, thank you, but I ate before I came. I only intended to stop in and say hello since I was in the area. I really should be leaving now that—”

“Nonsense! You’re already here and Jade has nothing better to do. You should go back on a full stomach.”

“Indeed. A delicious bowl of tonkotsu ramen has your name on it,” Jade adds from his place in the kitchen. “And I do so love busying these idle hands of mine. Should they remain idle, I fear the devil may just find work for them…”

“I really shouldn’t…”

“You look so withered, Zuzu. You’ll feel better after a hot meal. I promise!”

The platonic affection twined through the nickname catches him by surprise. Huffing, his cheeks colored pink, he stuffs his hat on his head to veil the darkening blush. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt…”

“Yay!” You clap your hands together. “I’ll get started on tea.”

You weren’t going to give him much of a choice. Azul probably knows this by now, well-acquainted with your proclivity to play caretaker.

“This winter is particularly brutal,” he comments after you’ve fetched him a cup. It’s more of a change in subject than an observation. He shudders and burrows further into the warmth provided by his coat. “The worst time to die.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Winter is full of mistakes. Drunken mishaps at night, in which the victim slips on ice and falls into the sea… Sometimes we miss them, and so they aren’t found or retrieved until they start to float to the surface after everything thaws. I can’t begin to imagine how painful that must be—to not know where your loved one has disappeared to, only to find them just as the winter frost melts away to usher in spring.”

“Oh, that’s horrible!” You set the kettle down, and Azul watches steamy tendrils curl up towards the ceiling. “Does it ever scare you—the things you find?”

“I’ve seen so much it’s difficult to know what real fear even is.”

“Ah.” You glance over your shoulder at Jade as he opens the lid on the pot of stew. Your eyes drift over towards Azul once more. “You work hard. You deserve a break after your next case.”

“I could sleep forever when that day comes.”

“Retirement isn’t too far, is it, Ojiisan?”

Azul chokes around his breath. “Do I really look so old? Oh, my heart… If these sleepless nights don’t kill me, that assumption certainly will.”

You giggle. “Sorry, sorry. I meant to say you look as spry as ever.”

“You’re too happy to hammer nails into my coffin.”

“I do it with love. It’s our secret ingredient, you know!”

“So I’ve heard.”

The rest of your conversation stalls out. You wipe the counter with a fresh rag in hopes of giving yourself something to do while Azul reads through the newspaper and sips at his tea. You watch him in your peripheral vision. Is he taking care of himself? It doesn’t look like it, but you’ve known Azul long enough to be familiar with his level of responsible efficiency. Maybe this particular case has him in the trenches.

Just how hard are they working him over there?

As his friend you worry. In fact, you worry yourself sick. Every time he visits he’s in poor shape. Though he masks it with confidence, you can see the toll life is taking on him.

“Have you ever wanted to get married, Azul?”

“If I find the right person, sure.”

“But?”

“But, seeing as that has yet to happen, I have no interest in pursuing something that might waste my time and money. Emotions are exhausting, even more so when invested in something like romance. It’s better to put them towards something that will yield solid results. Like work, for example.”

“That outlook is so frigid! Don’t you wanna fall in love?”

“Love isn’t going to crack these cases,” he grumbles at the paper.

Jade appears at the little window cut into the wall. “Someone sounds like a love killer.”

“I’m only being realistic.” Azul scoffs. “Besides, you have no right to speak as a married man.”

“Envy is a wicked vice. I’ll gladly help you overcome it.”

You take the bowl of tonkotsu ramen from Jade and set it in front of Azul. “Okay, enough of that. Let him enjoy his meal in peace.”

“But I haven’t yet had my fill of fun.”

You reach through the horizontal window to gently tug on Jade’s ear. He rumbles with laughter. “Don’t bully the guests.”

“Why, I would never, my dearest.”

Azul watches this back-and-forth with a forlorn longing in his pale blues. Wordlessly, he sinks his soup spoon into the broth and lifts the noodles between his chopsticks. He eats with such zest it makes you wonder if this is his first meal of the day. Sensing your stare, he attempts to pace himself.

You smile sadly. He looks like he needs this.

“As always, it’s delicious,” he says once he’s made a sizable dent in the portion.

Jade basks in the praise. “I’m pleased you enjoy it.”

“But… Well.” The ghost of a frown settles on his weathered features. “The broth tastes different. You must’ve used a new seasoning. Or perhaps this is an expensive cut of pork? Whatever it is, it’s different. Not bad, mind you. I’m sure if it were anyone else it would’ve been difficult to catch.”

“Is this the impressive power of Detective Ashengrotto’s taste buds at work?” you joke, to which Azul flashes you a proud grin that’s more teeth than lip.

“Well, I have been using ingredients with better qualities as of late… I’m not very fond of serving cheap products to honored guests.”

“Isn’t my Jade so considerate? He’s too cute.” You stand up on your toes to kiss his cheek. “He even grows some of the vegetables himself. Green onions and mushrooms and the like.”

“Ah, of course. How could I forget that dubious green thumb of yours?” Azul muses, recalling the time in which Jade served him a new dish in exchange for valid critique. He had conveniently neglected to inform Azul that it contained mushrooms, something he has eaten plenty of in the time that he’s known you and Jade. So many that all varieties have been spoiled for him. “In any case, what’s the secret ingredient? Imported pork? Some sort of flavor that’s seeped in when left to simmer? No, not that… It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t place it!”

Jade chuckles. “There is no secret. It’s just love.”

Azul pokes around the bowl with his chopsticks, his eyes narrowed with an intense scrutiny. “I can recognize every other flavor. The meat, the green onions, the egg, the noodles… And I can parse the broth well enough. There’s just something else—a hint of something I’ve never tasted before. This profile is missing from my gastronomic lexicon.”

You tilt your head, puzzled. “Well, it’s the same broth, isn’t it?”

The both of you turn to Jade for his input. He nods. “My recipe and method haven’t changed.”

“So it’s still the same as before?” Azul’s nose wrinkles. “Strange. I was certain there was a taste of something more…”

Before he can dwell on it any longer, the radio at his hip crackles to life: “Sir, you’re needed at the port. We’ve got something you should see. Over.”

Azul detaches it from his belt and lifts it to his mouth. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t touch anything if you can help it. Out.” Releasing the button, he deflates briefly and then addresses you and Jade next. “It was wonderful seeing you again, but I’m afraid I must cut my visit short.”

“Then we won’t keep you.”

He moves to pull money from his wallet, but you stop him.

“On the house. You deserve it.”

Despite your generous offer, he still places the exact amount on the counter. “You won’t make profit if you’re giving food away for free.”

“Wha—but you’re a friend!”

“That makes it even worse. It’s not very fair to favor me to this extent.”

“Azuuul, don’t be so stubborn! You did this last time, too.”

“I surmise it will be much the same next time he graces us with his presence,” Jade says, eyeing you sympathetically.

��Ugh. Really… If you won’t let us treat you, at least promise you’ll take better care of yourself. No more skipping meals. Get a full eight hours. Prioritize yourself, too, okay?”

Azul starts for the door, so you miss the way he flusters up to his ears. They’re all very valid concerns, of course, but then he’s never been able to swallow the embarrassment that accompanies being unduly fussed over.

“I’ll do what I can,” he says instead and steps outside into the snowy afternoon.

You fold your arms over your chest and huff noisily. “What are we going to do with him? He’s in bad health and he still insists on being difficult. Must he faint before he realizes it?”

Jade emerges from the kitchen, sliding easily behind the counter where you stand. An amused glint shimmers in two-toned eyes. “I suppose we can only hope he’ll fix his bad habits sooner rather than later.”

“If only there were two of me… That way one could tend to the shop alongside you and the other could help him with his work.”

Jade embraces you firmly. With a giggle, you crane your neck to look at him.

“Two is much too troublesome.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have you all to myself.” His lips curve into a practiced pout. “What if (Name) Number Two finds Detective Ashengrotto more desirable than her own husband?”

You reach up to pinch his cheek in light scolding. “You know that would never happen.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“I would never. If I did, that wouldn’t be the real me. I love you too much.” You twirl out of his arms to collect the dirty dishes. “Hey, since he’s no longer here, what was really in Azul’s ramen?”

“I haven’t the faintest inkling, my dear. I used the same ingredients I always do. Perhaps he was tasting something that wasn’t actually there?”

“Maybe… He looked pretty tired, Jade.” You peer at your reflection in the broth. “I wonder if he’ll be okay.”

“I’m sure he will.” Jade follows you into the tiny, compact kitchen. “You do know his penchant for smoking has worsened. I fear his sense of taste may be compromised from so many cigarettes. That, and age. Oh, but these are merely my own theories. He might have caught flavors of a love he’s never known before on those ruined taste buds of his.”

“Ah, right. Because everything you make is filled with love.”

“Not everything. There’s still something I’ve yet to fill with my love.”

He presses himself against you, his hands settling on your waist. You roll your eyes at his very obvious flirting.

“I’m assuming that something is actually a someone?”

“Indeed. And she’s standing right in front of me.”

His arms snake around your front so that you’re effectively trapped between him and the countertop. His hands close around your breasts to grope you through your shirt. You shiver against him when his fingers brush against the precise area of where your nipples are. It’s when he pinches both between his thumb and index that you finally shut the faucet off, surrendering to his touch instead of the dishes piled in the basin.

“At least close the front. What if someone walks in?”

“Unlikely,” he murmurs, his lips hot on your neck. His fingers slip under your shirt to undo the clasp of your bra. “It’s slow today. We can manage.”

You brace yourself at the sink and gasp when he grinds against your ass. “T-Ten minutes.”

“Only ten?”

“Would you prefer five? Your mouth is so smart today.”

“My love, I need only seconds to unravel you. You’re quite easy.”

You bark out a sharp laugh. “I’m not the one with the hard-on, my darling.”

“You’re too alluring, even in uniform. So beautiful, always and forever, my sweet wife.”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you out of dirty dish duty.”

“How cold… You rival the snow outside.”

You shift slightly to face him, offering him an impish grin. “I’d hate for my Jade to freeze. Let’s warm up together, all right?”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

And all the while, your voices filling the kitchen in unison, bodies pressed close, the pot continues to simmer on the stove.

ii. and i am the idiot with the painted face. in the corner, taking up space. but when he walks in, i am loved, i am loved.

“Can I ask you something, Floyd?”

“What’s up?” he answers around a mouthful of udon. A few strands hang out from between his lips, and he slurps them up in a motion so fluid it leaves you impressed. As for the mess he makes… Not so much.

“What’s the secret thing that’s been passed through your family?”

Floyd blinks at you, lost. “The secret thing?”

“It’s some ingredient or flavor or…whatever that Jade says is a family secret. I have no idea what it is. He won’t tell me no matter how many times I ask.”

“Ohhh, you’re talkin’ about Mama’s pot, right? That thing’s been in our family forever. She gave it to Jade cuz I didn’t want it.” Floyd points with his chopsticks, playfully accusatory. “What? You into cookware now? I can getcha somethin’ if ya want.”

“What’s this about cookware?” Jade asks, poking his head inside. He looks warm and comfortable in his nagagi and haori, a pleasant sight for your eyes, but the broom clutched in his hands tells a threatening tale. 

Ignoring the fact that he so clearly eavesdropped, you wave him forwards so that you can straighten his scarf. Jade props the broom against the doorway before striding closer. He leans into your touch with a smug smile, which is shamelessly directed at his brother.

“Oh, you’re freezing! Let me fix you a cup of tea. You’ll catch your death if you spend any longer sweeping out there.”

“Thank you, my dear. I fear the chill is rather paralyzing…”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “He’s fine. Nothin’ he can’t handle.”

“I might just die.”

His dramatics don’t faze Floyd, but they do draw a chuckle from you. “We can’t have that.” You duck into the kitchen and return minutes later with a warm cup of chai. “Floyd was just telling me about your mother’s pot.”

“Was he now?”

“Only cuz Shrimpy asked.”

Jade blows at the steamy beverage to cool it before bringing it to his lips for a sampling. He hums his approval. “It’s quite special.”

Floyd slumps against the counter. “Whatever. It’s boring!”

“I suppose there isn’t much to discuss regarding an old pot.”

“Nothing we haven’t already mentioned.”

“Speaking of that… You thinkin’ about closin’ up the shop for the holidays? Pops’s been on my ass. He and Mama want you to visit.”

Jade gazes at you, but you’re already looking at him. “Should we?” you ask. “I’m not opposed. I just know you like running things here.”

“Not like you’re gonna get crazy business on Christmas.”

“No, but there are a fair amount of regulars who might stop by.”

“We should visit your parents, Jade. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, listen to Shrimpy. Mama’s been missin’ ya.” Floyd shovels more noodles in his mouth. “And afterwards we can all do somethin’ fun on New Year’s Eve.”

“That sounds great! Let’s do it!”

“S’no fun spendin’ the holidays workin’ yourself into the ground.”

“Exactly. Your brother makes a good point. What do you say, Jade? We’ll make the trip to see your parents and then come back in time for New Year’s Eve.”

Jade smiles, approving of the idea. “In that case, I should call Mother so she knows when to expect us.” Taking a final sip from his tea, he rises from his seat and disappears into the kitchen. Seconds later, you hear soft footfalls on the floor above.

“You really don’t know?”

Floyd shrugs. “No idea. The only thing that kinda fits the whole secret ingredient vibe is Mama’s pot. That’s been passed through the family. Other than that? I’ve got nothing.”

“Well… Yeah, that’s true. Maybe it really is nothing.”

Floyd laughs. “This sure means a lot to ya.”

“Of course it does! We’ve been married for two decades and I still don’t know what this ‘family secret’ is. Decades, Floyd! Surely he would’ve told me by now.”

“Is it really that important?”

“It is to me.” You gaze sidelong at the broom and inhale a steadying breath. “It feels like I’m not a part of the family if he won’t tell me something as simple as this. You’d think twenty years qualifies you as—”

“Hey, you’re always gonna be family to me.” Floyd’s hand reaches to cover yours. He hesitates and instead grabs another napkin. “Jade’s just bein’ a hard-ass. Gets it from our old man.”

“Do you think this ‘family secret’ is real?”

“Who knows? I’m sure he’ll fess up once he gets tired of playing this game.”

“Yeah, that sounds like my Jade. He’s really too much sometimes.” You shake your head and sigh. “Thanks for saying that, though. That part about me being family. It… It means a lot.”

“It’s the truth.” Floyd sets his chopsticks and chirirenge down, lifting the bowl to drink what’s left of the broth. He whistles, supremely satisfied, and slouches on the stool. “You ever need anything—doesn’t matter what it is or how much trouble you think it might be—just gimme a call. I’ll be there to help.”

“Thanks. A-Again. Truly.”

Floyd flashes you a toothy smile. “Don’t mention it.”

You collect his bowl, intending to bring it to the sink, but Floyd’s next words stop you in your tracks.

“Hey, Jade’s got that pot on, yeah?”

“The pot? Oh, yes, the pot! What about it?”

“Has it been stirred lately? You gotta do that once in a while, right?”

Your nerves, which had previously been pulled taut, smooth out. He’s referring to cooking. Nothing else. Just cooking.

“I’ll do that. Thanks for the reminder.”

“Mhm! Smells yummy, by the way.”

“Doesn’t it? Jade’s food is amazing.”

“Mine’s pretty killer, too. You gotta come over and try some.”

“If you’re cooking for me, you’ll have to cook for Jade as well.” You giggle to yourself as you cross into the kitchen, only for the laughter to stick in your throat.

Jade stands at the stove. He lowers the lid onto the pot and sets the wooden spoon aside. He was so quiet you hardly noticed him. How long has he been there? When did he return from upstairs?

“Oh, good timing! Floyd and I were just saying the pot needed to be stirred.”

Jade smiles and takes Floyd’s empty bowl from you. “Did we all have a collective thought just now?”

“Ooh, like telepathy?”

“Wouldn’t that be shocking? Three-way telepathy.”

You watch Jade set the bowl beside the others in need of washing. “That would be so noisy! Three times as many thoughts… I wouldn’t be able to hear myself think.”

“It’d be like watchin’ a show about the two of you,” Floyd pipes up from the front.

“Thankfully, that will never happen.” Jade guides you back out. You peer over your shoulder at the pot. “What a relief our minds aren’t connected. I don’t think I’d enjoy a stray listening in on our private affairs.”

You slap his arm gently. “Floyd’s not a stray!”

“Might as well be since it feels like he’s kickin’ me to the curb. So mean.”

“Not at all. I’m just making a distinction clear.” Jade’s smile is razored, his words catty. “You’re always welcome to visit so long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hands off the Shrimpy. I gotcha.” Floyd pops up from his seat and stretches. It seems as if all of Jade’s remarks, each born from petty possessiveness, roll off his shoulders. “I’m not gonna steal her from you if that’s what’s got you so worked up.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried.”

Floyd’s once easygoing expression sours. “You’re beggin’ for cement shoes, ain’tcha?”

Jade feigns offense, placing his hands over your ears even though it’s a pointless gesture. “For my own blood to threaten me in front of my sweet pearl… It brings tears to my eyes.”

“All right, all right! I’m goin.’ Geez.” Floyd struts out the door, not wanting to be manually shooed out by Jade and his beloved broom. “And don’t forget about New Year’s Eve!”

You wave farewell until he’s vanished out of sight. Only then do you turn to address your husband. “You ought to be nicer to him. He’s your brother.”

“I was. Very nice, in fact.”

“Really? How?”

“I didn’t charge him for the meal.”

iii. me and my husband, we’re doing better. it’s always been just him and me together. so i bet all i have on that furrowed brow. and at least in this lifetime we’re sticking together. me and my husband, we’re sticking together.

Everyone thought the odds were significantly slimmer than that of younger women—impossible by your standards—but somehow you’re pregnant at forty-four. You suspected it when you missed your period and then, just days prior, woke up with a terrible bout of morning sickness.

Standing in the bathroom, staring at the positive test like it’s a relic from Atlantis, you pinch yourself. Hard. It stings, and with this your disbelief mellows into something astonished.

Pregnant. You’re pregnant.

And this time you’re ready for a family. You’re ready to raise a child. Somewhat. Amidst every positive emotion there's anxiety and fear, and they reign so tyrannical that you almost forget you’re meant to be excited. Tamping down insecurity, you turn the test over in your hands.

I’ve got to tell Jade.

But before that you think back on the timeline in an effort to pinpoint the fateful day. After mapping it out for a brief while, you arrive at what’s possibly the least romantic way to conceive a child. Going at it raw and reckless in the kitchen, bent over a sink filled with dirty dishes and pressed against the wall… At least it was in a place both of you treasure.

Not the worst place, you think. I guess it doesn’t have to be a typical rose-petals-on-the-floor situation.

You’re practically vibrating out of your skin when you tiptoe out of the bathroom. Jade’s already downstairs. You can hear him humming as he works to open the shop. Hastily, you change into your work clothes and stuff the test in your pocket.

Jade’s notorious for his surprises, but it’s never been easy to return the favor. You mull over this facet of his character as you skip down the stairs. How can you shock him with this good news when he makes it so difficult? It’s as if he’s always two steps ahead, expecting the unexpected before it can even happen.

Jade brightens when you walk into the kitchen. He meets you halfway, lifting your hand to his lips. “Good morning. How did you sleep, my pearl?”

You squeeze his hand. “Like the dead.”

He chuckles. “I’m pleased it was so restful.”

You glance at the pot then and an idea sprouts. “Is there anything else that needs to get done? Is the front opened?”

“Just about. I need to prep a few more things here and then—”

“I can do it! It’s just stocking up on what’s low, right? That’s not very hard.”

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” You claim the spot he had once been standing in. He was in the process of filling a container with chopped green onions before you came down. “Go on and open the front. I’ve got things handled here.”

“I do so adore you.”

“I adore you more.”

“I adore you most.” He beams and stalks off through the doorway. 

Now left to your own devices, you move to the sink and turn on the water to wash your hands. If all goes according to plan, you’ll open the lid, pretend something’s wrong with its contents, and when Jade comes over to investigate you’ll act as if you’ve pulled the positive test from the pot. It’s a harmless surprise. You’re sure he won’t be expecting it, especially since he’s the one who does all of the cooking.

After confirming Jade’s still busy with the front, you creep over to the stove. That infamous pot awaits. You slide your hand into an oven mitt and grab hold of the lid, lifting it slowly. You’re immediately hit with the delicious scent of bone broth, so fragrant it almost has you salivating.

Focus! I can eat after the big reveal.

You open your mouth to call Jade over and then pause.

Has he stirred it yet? It looks a little… No, it’s definitely murky. Is bone broth supposed to be this dark? Maybe I just need to stir it.

You lower the wooden spoon into the broth and, scraping along the sides and bottom, mix expertly. The bones knock into each other from the disturbance, and you inhale deeply. It reminds you of the tonkotsu ramen Azul fancies so much. You could go for a bowl right now.

You’re about to take the spoon out and cover the pot when something floats to the surface. Without meaning to, you recall Azul’s words from last month: Sometimes we miss them, and so they aren’t found or retrieved until they start to float to the surface after everything thaws. Curiously, you scoop the object up onto the spoon. Broth spills over into the pot and then you see it.

A finger.

A human finger.

What the fuck is a finger doing in Jade’s pot?

The nail has been plucked off and the skin is sagging away, turned to pliable mush from sitting in the pot for so long, but it is undoubtedly a finger.

A very real, very human finger.

Bile slithers up your throat with thick, acidic fingers.

Fingers.

There’s another one and then another. Three fingers. You poke around in the broth, dreading what else you might see. You don’t want to find a full set of ten. Anything but that. You count five and that’s all you can stomach before you’re shakily covering the pot with the lid. You set the spoon and oven mitt down next, your mind reeling.

You want to vomit.

You’re about to vomit.

You’re going to—

“(Name)?”

You whirl to look at him. Your husband. He stands in the doorway, a dark look on his face. You can’t describe the emotion, or lack thereof. It’s more of a shadow. An oppressive shadow. An intimidating shadow. A shadow that seems to say: You’ve seen too much.

“J-Jade!” How long has he been standing there? How much does he know? “Sorry. I… I felt sick just now. I think I should…rest a bit more.”

The gloom fades away into perfect placidity. “My, my. That’s not good.” He takes a step towards you and pauses when you jerk away. “Is everything all right?”

“Y-Yes, of course! I’m just…not feeling it today…or something.”

“I suppose it can’t be helped.” His eyes slide towards the stovetop. “I do so dislike getting into disagreements with you. So to avoid that I’ll ask once and only once. What did you see in the pot?”

Your spine stiffens, straight and still as a board, and you hang your head guiltily. “I… I’m sorry. I saw… W-Well, I don’t want to believe it. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding or a mistake of some kind. It’s just that—um… I… I saw…”

Fingers. Human fingers!

“I saw what I think is y-your secret ingredient. The thing—” your voice cracks, and you swallow thickly to push rising bile back— “Azul tasted that day…” “And that secret ingredient is…”

Tears brim and spill over in silent, horror-struck waterfalls. You risk a glance at your husband, and a wobbly smile pulls your lips apart.

“Love.”

[82mitsu]

{18Trip} <CHAPTER 001 SIDE-A: Sun will R1ze!> 001-A05 First Strategy Meeting

A translation of 18TRIP's CHAPTER 001 SIDE-A by 82mitsu. ENG proofreading by sasaranurude.

Kafka: Mhm, all the founding employees being assembled really makes you feel like the reality of it all has kicked in.

Kafka: However, what we’re doing here isn’t some get together for friends. Bringing proper results is our goal. For the time being I want to explain the restoration plan I came up with though, is that okay?

Yachiyo: …Um, uhm…

Yachiyo: That special tourism ward thingie mentioned in the documents… What uh, is …it?

Kafka: ………

Sakujiro: I cannot believe we have to start from there.

Yachiyo: Sosososososorry!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kaede: (Living in JPN in this day and age, and not knowing about special tourism wards… Maybe Yachiyo-kun is some sheltered boy?)

Kafka: Sakujiro, you know what to do.

Sakujiro: Of course, President. Fuefuki-kun, please look this way. It’s an educational video aimed at children titled “Tourism For Beginners”. 

Kaede: (That video…! It’s the one I saw while I was in preschool…!)

Mister Rabbit: “Hello all good boys and girls! Today Mister Rabbit and-”

Little Miss Lion: “Little Miss Lion~!”

Mister Rabbit & Little Miss Lion: “-Will be learning all about the tourism industry~!”

Little Miss Lion: “Hey hey Mister, why do people call JPN the nashion of toorism?”

Mister Rabbit: “Good question, Little Lion! You see, JPN isn’t the only “nation of tourism” out there, since many countries all over the world are the same as JPN!”

Mister Rabbit: “People from the past worked very hard and made many machines. Thanks to the power of science, everyone’s got lots and lots of free time! Which is why traveling became a very popular way of playing!”

Little Miss Lion: “People from all over the woreld are trafeling!?”

Mister Rabbit: “Yes they are! A lot of effort was put into creating a “Ministry of Tourism” so everyone can have lots of fun, even in JPN!

Mister Rabbit: “In particular, the places where lots of tourists go to play are called “special tourism wards”, and support is provided in all sorts of ways throughout the whole country so everyone can have fun!”

Little Miss Lion: “Waaah~! Does that mean taxes becoming cheaper too~!?”

Mister Rabbit: “Yes, you bet! Among other things, in a “special tourism ward”, there’s the official position of “0th Ward Mayor”, someone with a loooot of powerful authority!

Little Miss Lion: Little Lion love love loves authoreety~! What can I do if I become the 0th Ward Mayor? Can I destroy the entire neighborhood~?”

Mister Rabbit: “Ahaha! Little Miss Lion makes some funny jokes! But, maybe you can? wink”

Mister Rabbit: “The 0th Ward Mayor can advertise tourism, choose who gets to be a Ward Mayor and decide on what the local tourism should be about!”

Mister Rabbit: “Whether it's killing or reviving the neighborhood, that all depends on the 0th Ward Mayor and the other mayors!”

Little Miss Lion: “Waaauw, when I grow up Little Miss Lion will definitely become the 0th ward mayor and obtain all the authoreety in the world~!”

Kaede: (... Did this video always have such a dark twist to it…?)

Yachiyo: Tremble tremble tremble… The 0th Ward Mayor is an authoritarian figure……………!

Daniel: Hweh~ I see now, uh-huh~ That’s what special tourism wards and 0th Ward Mayors were all about, huh.

Kaede: (Hold on, what do you mean Daniel-san didn’t know about this!? The previous company he worked at WAS a travel agency…!)

Kafka: So, the mentioned 0th Ward Mayor is what I am, basically…

Yachiyo: Hieh, you’re gonna destroy the neighborhood…!?

Kafka: Well, whether the ward sinks or swims all depends on the Ward Mayor themself. In fact, my own father is the one who almost killed HAMA, so…

Kaede: (Kafka, your smile is creepy…)

Kafka: It wasn’t mentioned in the video, but special tourism wards also have their disadvantages.

Kafka: Instead of receiving support from the country, they’re put under surveillance by the 23 wards of Tokyo connected to the government. Our own supervisory authority is in the hands of Tokyo’s 8th Ward Mayor.

Kaede: Shigematsu Hakkei-san who was at the inauguration… right?

Kafka: Yes. Ward Mayors like him frequently come sightseeing without prior notice. So if the hospitality level is low, a negative review will be drafted up immediately—think of them like some kind of menace of a sister-in-law. 

Nayuki: However, you cut all financial support from the capital, right? Then in that case, the 8th Ward of Tokyo must not have the right to interfere with tourism policies anymore. 

Kafka: Exactly that♪ I’ll be taking bold, drastic measures with our tourism policies this year.

Kafka: If we don’t reach the quota of required tourists in a year, HAMA will lose its status as a special tourism ward and my role will disappear too. 

Kaede: We just gotta get over that hurdle of drawing in tourists, right…

Kafka: So that’s all to say, in order to revive HAMA I put a plan together under the name of “NEO18Wards”.

Nayuki: According to the documents… the benchmark is the 9 wards of KOBE? 

Yachiyo: Marking benches?

Sakujiro: A blueprint, an example, the goal we’re aiming for. That’s the meaning of it, Fuefuki-kun.

Yachiyo: Muh! Memo, memo…!

Kaede: Why KOBE-9 though, if you don’t mind telling us?

Kafka: The reason is simple. KOBE and HAMA are both port cities, making them rivals that've been getting compared for as long as they've existed. Though, KOBE is crushing the competition at the moment.

Nayuki: If I remember correctly, KOBE did a large-scale reformation on their approach to tourism a few years back, and established a plan for the Ward Mayors to be directly involved with hospitality.

Kafka: Exactly. To begin with, what people are trying to find by traveling is a fresh, personal human connection that they cannot experience on a daily basis due to the mechanization and automation of the modern age. 

Kafka: Such an element cannot be easily replicated by technology.

Kaede: (That’s true…)

Kafka: HAMA’s failure is attributed to the surplus of tourism policies attracting way too many tourists for its own good, and in turn this lowered the quality of hospitality to each individual as a whole.

Kafka: To get us out of this situation, it’s necessary to give tourists the experience of courteous hospitality just like in KOBE. 

Nayuki: A simple but a very reliable method, if I had to say. Nonetheless, what do we do about the policies to increase tourism?

Kafka: That’s the Nayuki I know, always quick on the uptake♪

Kafka: First, we’ll narrow it down to domestic affairs… When thinking about the population of JPN, there are only so many people that travel on a regular basis, after all.

Kafka: It’s a situation where every city wants a piece of the pie. Keeping that in mind, the only way to increase tourism is by increasing the amount of repeat tourists. 

Kafka: Not just touring all the famous spots as people have been until now, but transforming all of HAMA into a tourist attraction and establishing a fanbase is what’s essential here. Which is why… I intend to increase the number of Ward Mayors for exactly this reason. 

Kaede: More Ward Mayors…?

Kafka: Currently, there are three Ward Mayors left in HAMA. The plan is to appoint a Ward Mayor to all 18 wards in due time.

Nayuki: It’s the 0th Ward Mayor’s job to lead the other mayors, right. Wouldn’t management be a heavy burden with such a large number of people?

Kafka: It’s me, remember? Think I can’t pull it off?

Nayuki: … You have a point.

Kafka: Though, first we start bolstering what we have with the current Ward Mayors. Sakujiro, you know what to do.

Sakujiro: Yes, President. Click click, as you asked.

Kaede: …Splitting up the 18 wards into four areas? By morning, noon, evening and night…?

Kafka: That’s right. By the way, the intention behind the name is along the lines of “Enjoy your trip to HAMA from morning till night”♪

Kafka: Which leads us to the following. Yachiyo, Sakujiro, Nayuki and Daniel. All of you will be providing full-time support to each squad respectively. As for the role itself—I’ll simply call you “conductors”.

Yachiyo: Eh, eeeh…!? Such, such an important task, me!?

Kaede: (For Yachiyo-kun this is definitely too much… W-wonder if this is okay.)

Kafka: No worries. Yachiyo is in charge of Morning Squad, which includes me. Chief-chan, you’ll be keeping an eye on all squads, okay?

Kaede: G-got it.

Kaede: (I feel the pressure, but… I said I’ll face anything that comes at me. Gonna give it my all…!)

Nayuki: Dividing into groups and establishing squads, I can understand. However, what is the meaning behind going through the trouble of dividing?

Kafka: The fact that we’ll get the Ward Mayors of each squad to coordinate and create a superior touring plan. There's a limit on how much our tourism resources can be fortified when our time is restricted to one year. 

Kaede: (That’s true… Right now we’re unable to sit down and create new facilities, and increasing what sights to see isn’t an easy task.) 

Kafka: But, we do have something we can use immediately. What do you think that is?

Yachiyo: Eh……, eh………

Kaede: Can use immediately…?

Daniel: Our amazing Bossman’s money? Gahah, just joshing!

Nayuki: …I see, that’s what it is.

Kafka: It’s none other than human resources. 

Kaede: (Ah…!)

Kafka: I’ve said it before, right? What people look for on travels is something that cannot be replicated by technology. 

Kafka: Extremely hard to quantify that the numbers may as well be random. An existence whose pattern is indecipherable to the whole word. That’s what “humans” are.

Kafka: I’m wagering on the “human” potential of Ward Mayors. A meeting between people—there’s no personal experience more intense than that. 

Nayuki: If this is the President’s plan of action, I will provide my support.

Nayuki: Though, will the current Ward Mayors give their endorsements? All wards had been operating independently up until now. 

Kafka: I’m the 0th Ward Mayor, remember?

Kafka: Just sit back and watch how I’ll make them say yes.

<<previous chapter / next chapter>>

chapter 001 side A directory: TBA upon completion

[divinehedons]

nothing good.

navigation: masterlist

pairing: javier peña x foreign journalist!afab!reader

word count: ~3k

summary: javier peña recounts a tumultuous affair with you, one that while all-consuming, occured only within the span of three meetings.

warnings: this fic contains explicit sex, minors DO NOT interact! p-in-v sex, canon-typical corruption and javi's morbid consumption of cigarettes, angst angst angsty angst.

note: this is a self-indulgent fic written with getaway car on repeat in the background. because of that, i've started singing it as, "javi in the getaway car." i hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the influx of support! reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

"Do you remember how we met, cariño?" he whispers, quickly followed by the sound of a long exhale. A motion so familiar, you could swear you smell the menthols he always smoked; lounged in bed, in the office, after a long day, on the walks you both took.

It was that train of thought that pulls you back to the day you yourself remembered well. The threshold of you and Javi. It was a humid evening, like any other humid evenings you had in Bogota. The racuous night life, ruled mostly by hijinks and crime, and the smell of electricity in the air. You remember the dress you wore that evening. You remember feeling sort-of-nice about yourself.

His version: he was on the lookout for a tip about a syndicate in the city, some loose connection to Escobar with a few boys. You, the helpless, lost, and lovely little lamb who happened to knock on his car window asking if he can help you find your hotel. That he looked like a cop, anyway, so you thought you'd ask. He's met enough of the lost tourists every now and then, although none as pretty or as goddamn fuckable as you were. So of course he drove you back; he flirted tooth and nail to get in your bed, too. He didn't get the collar for the arrest when their target did eventually show up. But he didn't mind it one bit.

Your version of the story varied in some aspects.

Your version: Escobar had lured enough attention to fly you out to Columbia- you, the pretty face that could get through places your colleagues couldn't go to. You got close that evening, even meeting with a local dealer with your bashful eyes and a few drinks at the local watering hole. But the moment he feels up your skirt, you knew you had to get away. So you pretend to go to the restroom, using the nearest payphone to call in a tip, and then climbing up the bathroom window and into the back alley where you slipped away. Five minutes later, you see the typical undercover cop, not as undercover as he thinks he is.

So you decided to save him, knocking on his window with the flirtiest smile on your face. It's easy to know what he wants, with his eyes sneaking glances at the valley of your chest, the curves of your body. It's easy when you lean over to kiss his cheek as thanks.

"I'm Javier, what's your name?" You look over with a small smile and reply with your own.

"Nice to meet you, Javier."

The decision is right there, so you take it. You fuck a cop so you can hide the inklings of suggestions that can expose your doing.

"We fucked that night, didn't we?" You hear him laugh at the other end, your crass wording summarizing the excitement of that evening.

But you did fuck. His moustache nuzzling against the crook of your neck as his cock drives you wide open, your legs on his shoulders, your moans forever echoing within the receses of his brain even when he left you, satiated and reporting back to process the paperwork of the arrest he didn't get to make.

Sometime before that, though, you find out he's more agent than cop. It turns out, men are much more willing to talk when they're fresh post-coitus. He speaks about the American South momentarily, evidently guarded. He cups his hand over the match you lit up, chasing the flame to light a cigarette as he makes his first awkward excuse to get out of your room. You laugh at him, turning over to call for room service as he dresses himself.

"See you never, cowboy."

He thinks of your warm cunt on the long night that follows after. The taste of your wetness would remain in his memory even after the next time he fucked a different girl; an ambitious lady of the night he wanted to recruit as his spy. You'd haunt him as your laughter emanates when the nights are too quiet, trailing before those four words he mutters under his breath when memory hits him too strongly.

See you never, cowboy.

—

From the other end of the line, he mutters something in Spanish, knowing you understand very little. "Fuckin' haunted me like a ghost, baby." Another deep breath, this time followed by the swig of whisky. "Funny thing was, the next time I saw you, you were coming outta prison."

"To be fair, Peña, I was recovering a stolen camera." You laugh too. "And it was a police station."

Ah, that stolen camera. Javier remember the day when he would have knelt before that camera of yours in complete submission for bringing him back in your life.

He had been checking in on Carrillo, a week or so after, planning out the fragments of their next plan of action when he sees you, fuck eyes and all, right at the front desk of the station, flipping frantically through a Spanish-English dictionary in an attempt to try and understand the procedure you were supposed to be doing.

He leaned against the doorway for a moment, finishing the last of his cigarette before chuckling as he exhaled the smoke. "She said you're supposed to fill out the form," he finally said, watching your head turn and recognize his voice as he tips his head slightly. "Did you get into trouble or somethin'?"

It takes a moment for you to collect the form and make your way to him while the officer disappears to retrieve your belongings, a moment before you settle down into the nearest seat beside him with a breathy thanks, searching your bag for a pen. "No, no trouble... My camera got snatched while I was exploring the city. It was empty, but I'm glad it turned up again."

When you finish filling up and handing over the form, he stands beside you, easily translating between you and the officer. An affair that had been going on for half an hour, over and done with barely fifteen minutes since Javi saw you.

He takes the chance before you slip between his fingers again.

"At the risk of being painful turned down by a pretty woman, d'you maybe want to go out tonight?"

You look to him, and he barely catches the glint of hope, maybe even mischief, in your eyes. But you play it along, tilting your head to the side as if weighing your own options. It was a foregone conclusion. You've been thinking about him, too.

"C'mon. I'll show you around like a true local."

You sigh, smiling lightly as you reach for his hand, scribbling the hotel you were at now and the room number.

"Tonight at 8, Javier. I'll be waiting."

Admittedly, you had your own reasons for involving yourself with the agent. Because, in the week beforehand leading up to the robbery of your camera, you knew you were being followed by unsavory company. You knew too much. You talked to too many people. You linked too many powerful people to a much bigger conspiracy.

You understood, most of all, that these men were capitalizing on troubled people battling their own addictions.

You had to get out of the country. You had to get out fast. And when you did, you had to make sure the incriminating photos you had taken were in the hands of someone who wouldn't destroy them.

The evening rolls around and you dress up well, applying the finishing touches of your lipstick when you hear the knock on the door. It's the image of him, leaning against the doorway, with his leather jacket and combed hair, reeking of menthols. It's how you'll always remember him.

"Ready to go, sweetheart?"

You smile at him, slipping on your cardigan while you fiddled with the prints in your pocket. The folded up collection of evidence that could very much have you killed.

"Born ready, agent."

The evening he planned was conventional, albeit the order different. The stereotypical dinner and a movie for him became a movie and then dinner. The reason was logical enough. "Well, that way, I'm sure we have something to talk about over dinner and it's not awkward." You laugh, but you eventually remark it as a smart move.

He takes you to see Indiana Jones, and he flirts hard. He plays off slipping his arm around your shoulder. He plays off pulling you close to him. He plays off sneaking popcorn from your tub. You play it off too. You play off the fact that you could've caught him staring at you for half of the movie. You play off the fact that you eventually lean your head on his shoulder. You even play off the way you hold the hand from the arm he had wrapped around you, pretending you didn't see the way it produced a shit-eating grin to his face.

Javi takes you for empanadas after. letting you talk about how much you enjoyed it, how you crushed on Harrison Ford (He's so smart, isn't he?), and even how you'd never survive such scenarios.

"You worry your head too much, pretty baby."

Somehow, between empanadas and the late night haze, you end up tugging Javier back to your hotel room, giggling like a teenager as you kiss him again, his mouth, where skin was uncovered by his moustache, had turned rouge from your lipstick and the way you kissed each other so hungrily.

He pushes you into the room just as you giggle and tear your cardigan off. "Hm, thank you for tonight, agent," you whisper, pulling him close for another kiss as he shuts the door behind him. He chuckles deeply, thick fingers trapping themselves in your hair as he tugs, forcing you to tilt your head back so he can attack the expanse of your neck.

"So respectful, pretty lady. It's why you're such a good fuck—"

You laugh, fingers reaching blindly to unbutton his shirt, to free him fast enough of his clothes. He's not so patient. He simply grabs and tears your clothes open, a brute show of strength that leaves your head spinning and your knees weak. All of it, happening so fast, until he was fucking you from behind, your hands gripping the headboard as the torrent of desire overtakes you both.

"I'm starting to think you love this cunt, Javier," you moan out, earning a growl from him as he wraps his large left hand around your neck, pulling you back so you arch your back for him. It makes you squeal, moaning into the warm, humid air of the Colombian evening.

"Maybe I do, corazon. What'ya gonna do about it?"

Just then, he thrusts the hardest, spearing you wide open. The sound that comes from you is so heavenly he almost thinks he just heard an angel sing to him.

"That's it. Take it like a good girl..."

It is the image of your face, features induced by an orgasm that he almost started believing again. He, who left a woman on the altar, the eternal betrayer. He, who had fucked his way through the prostitutes of Bogota. He, who looked at every woman from head to toe. He, the eternal womanizer, brought to his knees just by you.

Perhaps that was why fate had brought you into his life. To teach him a lesson he'll never forget.

That time around, he's not tripping over himself to get out of your room, completely basking in the way you look, chest heaving as he retrieves the packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. It's that brief distraction that you use, not only to slip the folded up prints in the pocket of his pants in the other end of the room, but to get the camera you just got back, loaded with new film as you take a picture of him with a fresh cigarette between his lips.

The flash that goes off reveals your intentions. "Now, now, you didn't ask if you could do that, pretty baby," he says smoothly, puffing out smoke, letting the tension build between you. You smile cheekily at him, winding the reel forward. It takes a moment, but you recognized it in his eye.

Just as easily, he pounced at you with the renewed beastly strength of a panther, pinning you down and smirking at the sound of your giggling, hair sprawled beneath you as he grabs the same camera, taking a photo of you, laughing and smiling so brightly he would've thought you were the sun.

When your laughter fades, it's when you speak to him. It's as if you could never trick him as you planned to beforehand. "I... I left a few prints in the pocket of your pants."

He pauses, cigarette now halfway done as he raises his brow.

You think, retrospectively, that you recognized the moment the palatable magic between the two of you fades into nothing. That you recognized the moment the dream ended and reality set in.

He stands, smudging out his cigarette as he inspects his pockets. And there it was, the pictures you never meant to see, the pictures that you knew would greatly help the manhunt against Escobar. The path that would lead Peña to fulfill his duty.

"Where—"

"I don't think it matters."

He sends you a glare, turning over to the next print. And then the next, and then the next. "You lost the fuckin' right to tell what does or does not matter." Then, methodically, he folds them up and sets them down on the ruined sheets. "Are you some fuckin' snitch?"

It was your turn to glare, sitting up from where you lay on the floor, hands propping you up behind. "No—" you began, "I do this for a living, Javi."

Perhaps that was when he knew that it was over. He tries not to show it: the sweet shock as sharp as a gunshot wound.

Again and again and again, the same words you said when he first met you echoes in his ears. A warning, he now sees, that he should have listened to when he had the chance.

See you never, cowboy.

—

From then on, it became an administrative affair. You never saw him— but they spent agent after agent organizing your escape from the country without your head getting blown off.

The last time you saw Javier Peña, it was the night the Embassy was driving you to the airport, guised under a different name. Left alone in a small office space, he looks to you like a wounded puppy, betrayed and barely hiding his hurt.

"Is it such a mystery?" you ask him, turning away to pretend to fix your hair in a mirror. Really, all you wanted to do was to stop seeing his puppy-eyed face. Because, you knew too, that one word from him would be enough to make you stay, safety be damned. "You know the place where you first met me. I was always going to leave first."

He scoffs, standing up and walking away.

There were two versions of the last meeting:

Your version: the last thing you saw of him in Bogota was his wide shoulders, turned away from you, walking away and shutting the door to give you some so-called privacy. You grit your teeth, clenching your fists around the letter you wished to give him before you left. You turn around, dropping it into the nearest bin. The conclusion of an affair marked for a messy end. "See you never, cowboy."

His version: you, disappearing into the backseat of an unmarked car. In the early evening, he sees the silhouette of your frame, calmly seated as the car started, driving away into the dark Columbian evening. The shadow of you, riding away in a getaway car. He puffs the last smoke out of his cigarette, dropping it in the ashtray to allow the last embers to burn through whatever was left. Then he turns around, going back to his work without another word said.

He should've known. Nothing good starts in a getaway car.

—

He called you, now months later, when he received an envelope containing only two prints, shipped all the way from another land. The prints made it evident from who he receive the package.

It was the two pictures the second time he fucked you. Moments before everything fell apart and set you flying away like shrapnel.

Bogota, to you, had become a distant memory. A job you did some time ago. If it wasn't for Javier, you would have never remembered the name of the city. Not when the rest of the world was brimming with stories.

Bogota, to him, now only existed with the shadow of you. He catches himself, every now and then, thinking about how you'd enjoy the new movie they released over the weekend. How you'd hold on to his arm and talk his ear off about the things he found interesting. How the beds he found himself laying on contained the ghost of your perfume.

So he buried himself in work. And then slowly, he fucked other people just to find traces of you in their willing bodies and dark rooms. It was never the same. And he's starting to think it'll never be the same.

Having recounted everything, the two of you listen to each other's breaths, not caring for how expensive such a call was going to be.

"So..." you tried to start, clearing your throat. "Why did you call?"

He thinks about it himself for a moment. He swallows once. Then another time.

"You know, if you asked, I would have shared my life with you."

[thebearer]

Ok but we need a part two of The Feeling where Richie and Alicia double date and y/n and carmy for kareoke

linking the feeling here for those of you who haven't read it :) it was my first work on here so i'm very attached to it lol. but here is a blurb of their date.

"She always like this?" Richie asked loudly over the music, head ducked towards Alicia's.

Alicia's eyes cut to you, on stage, singing your heart out to Like A Prayer all while pointing at Carmen suggestively. He would give a small smirk, blush when you crouched down on your knees and winked at him. The crowd loved it, the owners too, loved it when you gave the tourists and wannabe locals the energy they wanted from a karaoke place. The drunks loved it too, your biggest supporters, you'd call them with a grin.

"Oh, yeah," Alicia muttered, shaking her head at you. "You should be glad her friend Maddy isn't here. When those two get up there... it's somethin' else."

Richie snorted lightly, shaking his head. "I can't even imagine."

The crowd clapped for you, your dramatic bow making them go even wilder. You skipped over to the table, arms wrapped around Carmen's neck. "Good job, baby." Carmen muttered, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You turned your head, kissing him sweetly, fully on his mouth. He could taste the tequila from your drink. "Thanks, Carmy." You hummed, a little tipsy and wobbly, his hands on your waist to keep you from tilting. "You're my muse, baby. That one was for you."

Carmen laughed, shaking his head at you. "Good job. You're a natural, kid. Gonna go real far." Richie teased.

"I'm a starrrrr." You sighed dramatically. "What can I say? I'm just a natural born performer."

Alicia rolled her eyes at you, sipping her drink. "And now, let's have Richie come to the stage. Richie J, come to the stage."

Richie's face fell turning to you and Carmen. "Cousin, the fuck?"

"Wasn't me." Carmen lifted his heads, looking over at you.

"It's a song you know." You gave him a shy smile.

"What- no. No. I'm not-" Richie stuttered, shaking his head.

"Oh, please, Richie. It's fun!" You whined.

"I'm not good-"

"-That's the point!" You countered, slapping your hand on the table. "Trust me, they'll love it."

Alicia looked at him, eyes batting sweetly. "I think you should go up there." She muttered with a small smile. "Give Broadway Baby a run for her money."

You cackled, leaning against Carmen. Richie huffed, his heart hammering while he downed the rest of his beer, standing while you all cheered for him.

The crowd applauded, the announcer welcoming him on stage. "Alright, let's hear it for Richie singing Shake It Off."

Richie's eyes cut to you, glaring while you cackled.

"Oh, no way." Alicia laughed. "He's a Swiftie?"

"Total Swiftie." You grinned, leaning towards her. "Told you, you'd like him." You muttered.

Alicia blushed, shaking her head at you, turning to watch Richie while the music started up.

Carmen's hand snuck around your waist, pulling you closer. "Richie's gonna kill you."

"Nah, they're gonna love him." You quipped. "Besides, if it gets him laid tonight, he won't kill me."

Carmen rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to your head, pulling out his phone to record. No way he wasn't sending this in the group chat, especially when Richie hit the bridge high notes and the crowd went insane.

[neonravengames]

Romance Options - Lunarflatts

⏾ Lex Morgan - She/Her - 27

Lex is a wolf of few words, but every one of them carries weight. As Dante’s second-in-command, she’s fiercely protective of the pack and its territory, always watching, always planning for the worst-case scenario. While Clare might poke fun at her for being so serious, Lex never lets her guard down—not after everything she’s been through.

Born in Massachusetts to a nomadic pack that roamed the East Coast, Lex’s early years were spent constantly on the move. Her pack was her world, but that world came crashing down when they crossed paths with the Vampire Court of Orlando. Betrayed to the local Hunters Guild, Lex’s pack was systematically hunted, until she was one of the few survivors. By the time she was seven, she was completely alone, running westward with nothing but the instincts that kept her alive.

It was Dante who first found her, but it was his father, the Alpha at the time, who gave her sanctuary and a place in his family. Over the years, she grew from a scarred, silent child into one of the pack’s most respected leaders, taking up the role of second when Dante became Alpha. Cold, calculating, and deeply loyal, Lex has dedicated her life to protecting the pack from any threat that comes their way. While her stoic nature might make her seem distant, those who know her best understand the depth of her loyalty—and her willingness to do whatever it takes to keep the pack safe.

Lex doesn’t take risks lightly, and her trust is hard-earned. But once you have it, you’ll never find a more reliable ally. Just be prepared for her to always be two steps ahead, ready for the worst—even if it never comes.

⏾ Clare Devine - She/They - 18

When Clare walks into a room, you know it. Maybe it’s the confident swagger, the loud laugh that bounces off the walls, or the way her rebellious streak shines through everything she does. Born during a rare eclipse, Clare is no ordinary werewolf. Her wolf form is a fearsome two-legged hybrid, a bridge between the human world and the wild spirit of the wolf. With her unique connection to the Hunting Grounds—the sacred realm where wolf spirits go after death—Clare is as much a part of the pack as she is a mystery to it.

Clare’s father has always wanted her to live as human a life as possible, pushing her to focus on school, tour colleges, and avoid the madness that plagues most wolves. And Clare could have that life—Eclipses like her are born with an almost unnerving control over their wolf side. But she’s never been one to follow orders, least of all her father’s. She doesn’t want to hide her wolf. She wants to lead the pack, to be the next alpha.

It’s on one of her college tours that she finds you—alone, scared, newly turned. Clare doesn’t hesitate. She saves your life and offers you a new one in return, bringing you to Lunarflatts. Maybe she sees something in you, or maybe she’s just tired of feeling like the outsider in her own family. Either way, she’s taken you under her wing, and with Clare, you’ll never be bored. Loud, wild, and fiercely protective, Clare’s got a heart of gold, even if she doesn’t always show it. Just don’t expect her to play by the rules—because Clare Devine? She makes her own.

☀ D'Nato Devine - He/Him - 24

D'Nato has spent his whole life on the outside looking in. Born during the New Moon, he doesn’t have a wolf form like the rest of the pack. Instead, he’s human through and through—something that’s left him with a permanent chip on his shoulder. As the local mechanic, D’Nato keeps the ranger vehicles running and gathers intel from tourists and travelers passing through Lunarflatts, quietly supporting the pack in his own way. But don’t expect him to be friendly about it. His gruff, grumpy attitude is his armor, and he wields it like a weapon.

Most of the pack steers clear of him, and he prefers it that way. D'Nato’s resentment toward his wolf-less existence runs deep, especially since his father abandoned the pack without him years ago. It’s a wound he carries alone, and any hint of pity—or worse, condescension—from the pack will set him off. He’s quick to lash out if he thinks someone is looking down on him for being a New Moon, and most people would rather avoid his temper than risk getting close.

The only two people D'Nato really lets in are his uncle, Dante, and his cousin Clare. Dante loves him fiercely, always treating him as a full member of the family, despite his lack of a wolf. And Clare? Well, she refuses to leave him alone, no matter how much he growls about it. Despite his constant protests, Clare’s the closest thing D’Nato has to a real friend—and while he’ll never admit it, he’s secretly grateful for her stubborn loyalty.

D’Nato’s a man torn between two worlds: part of the pack, but never truly one of them. His anger and isolation are his way of surviving, but underneath it all is a heart that’s still searching for a place to belong. Just don’t expect him to let you in easily—it’s going to take more than a friendly word to break through his walls.

⏾ Citran Keller - They/Them - 25

Citran Keller walks the delicate line between the living and the dead. As the pack’s newly appointed Speaker, they have a unique bond with the Hunting Grounds—the spiritual realm where wolves go when they die. At every quarter moon moot, Citran communes with the ancestors, listening to their wisdom and bringing their guidance to the pack. But while Citran is the voice of the spirits, they often struggle with the world of the living.

Having recently stepped into the role after their mother retired to become an elder, Citran is still finding their footing. They are most at peace in their wolf form, surrounded by nature and the quiet whispers of the spirits, far from the noise and confusion of everyday pack life. Living people are a puzzle to them, and the intricacies of pack dynamics often leave them feeling out of place. They much prefer the company of the past, where the voices of the ancestors are clear, steady, and wise.

Despite this disconnect, Citran is deeply committed to their role as Speaker. They may not understand their packmates’ emotions or struggles, but they are determined to be someone Dante can rely on. Underneath their distant, almost otherworldly demeanor, Citran is driven by a fierce loyalty to the pack and a desire to fulfill their duty, even if that means stepping out of their comfort zone and engaging with the living world more than they’d like.

In Citran’s eyes, the ancestors hold all the answers, and they see themselves as a bridge between those long gone and the pack’s future. They are a mystery to most, but for those patient enough to look deeper, Citran’s connection to the spirit world might just be the key to saving the pack from the darkness threatening its land.

⏾ Naomi Doe - She/Her - 29

Naomi is a gentle soul caught in a whirlwind of uncertainty. Heavily pregnant and haunted by the scars of her past, she fled her previous pack. Only Dante knows the full story, and though the pack has welcomed her as one of their own, Naomi carries the quiet fear that she doesn’t truly belong. To her, every kind gesture from the pack is a debt she feels she must repay.

Motherly to her core, Naomi has taken it upon herself to care for the pack in every way she can. Whether it's preparing meals, tending to wounds, or offering a listening ear, she is always there, quietly supporting those around her. But in her eagerness to care for others, she often forgets to care for herself. Her own needs—physical, emotional, and mental—are pushed to the side as she buries her anxiety and exhaustion under a mask of calm.

Though her nurturing nature endears her to the pack, Naomi’s greatest fear is what comes next. The thought of becoming a mother terrifies her, not only because of the trauma she’s endured, but because she fears she won’t be strong enough to protect her child. The nagging dread of being cast out, of being alone again, never quite leaves her.

Naomi is the heart of the pack in many ways, but her own heart is fragile. She’s fiercely loyal, endlessly giving, and desperately afraid of being a burden. But beneath her fear is a strength she’s yet to fully realize—a strength she’ll need to tap into if she’s to face the challenges ahead and find peace for herself and her unborn child.

☀ Dr. Lake Ransley - They/Them - 35

Lake Ransley is the local doctor in Lunarflatts, always calm, always compassionate. With an easy smile and a gentle touch, they have become the go-to healer for the pack, stepping in when the werewolves’ impressive natural healing abilities need a little extra help. Broken bones that risk healing wrong, infections that linger, and illnesses that don’t fade as quickly as they should—Lake handles it all with precision, care, and most importantly discretion.

Though Lake's kindness and skill are undeniable, the pack remains wary of them. There’s something about Lake that doesn’t quite fit in with the pack’s world, and only a select few know why. Dante, Lex, and Citran are the only ones privy to the full truth, and they’ve kept it a closely guarded secret. Lake, however, has never given the pack a reason to doubt their loyalty.

Despite the unspoken tension, Lake is always ready to help, whether it’s stitching up a wound or offering quiet counsel to anyone in need, human or wolf. Their gentle nature and genuine desire to heal make them an invaluable asset to the pack, even if not everyone fully trusts them. Lake knows that every time they offer aid, they’re walking a delicate line between acceptance and suspicion, but they’ve long since made peace with that reality.

For now, Lake remains an odd but vital presence in the pack’s world, offering a steady hand in times of need while always keeping a respectful distance. Whether they will ever fully earn the trust of the pack remains to be seen, but Lake is content to continue their work, helping wherever they can and waiting for the day the pack might finally see them as something other than an outsider.

[h3rmess]

WHERE OUR BLUE IS

Written by @h3rmess ✰

Masterlist

S3 : Chapter 5 - Doom's Day ☆☆☆☆☆

༄ ༄ ༄

October 22nd 2018. I was in Megumi's dorm, waiting for him to come back with food. We had ordered ramen from a local restaurant, and Megumi volunteered to go and collect it.

I was sprawled across his bed, scoffing at the text messages I had received from that idiot. He really knew how to get on my nerves. As much as he annoyed me, I wondered when I would be able to see him again. He was my best friend, after all. He would always look out for me when no one else was there to do so. Truly my one and only.

I placed my hands over my face, taking in a deep breath before closing my eyes. We had been training relentlessly for October 31st. All of the students who received recommendations from the sister school exchange event were able to have their evaluation on that day.

Halloween gets particularly dangerous in places like Shibuya and Itaewon in South Korea. These areas are known tourist attractions. So, people from abroad, as well as people from outside of the regions, would typically come here to enjoy the environment, although it was usually anything but pleasing.

As a jujustu sorcerer, I have decided that my motive is to protect the weak or those who can't protect themselves. Due to my prior traumatic experiences, I am set on this goal more than anyone else. I always move to protect those who find themselves in vulnerable situations where they can't defend themselves. Both Yuuji and I are of the same mind : exorcise and support. That's our only goal. We will both avoid killing at all costs, which is what makes our bond so strong. We can confide in each other, both knowing the meaning behind our actions no matter what happens.

Megumi thinks slightly differently to us. Although he is also set on saving the weak, he will not hesitate to kill people if needs be. I have understood where he was coming from, but I did not agree with this way of thinking. Although, something he said on one of our first missions has always stuck with me:

'Who's to say that someone you save won't kill someone in the future?'

His words plagued my mind since that day. If I really had no choice, would I be able to kill someone? And if I couldn't do it, would I be able to live knowing I could have prevented more deaths by not saving that one life?

I was unsure of my standing in the grand scheme of things, how I fit into the works of jujustu society. I was unsure of the role I played in the world. How helpful was I really? If I couldn't kill someone because I had to, could I really be deemed as someone capable of saving lives? Should I really have this role as a sorcerer, where the lives of others were literally the foundation of my career?

The varied feelings confused me massively, my mind taking turns into 'what if's' and 'maybes', each branch of questions endless. I was stuck within a rendezvous, my morality being the central point of it. In some ways, it was immoral to kill no matter who it was, but in other ways, it wasn't right to allow someone who would kill to live. If I have the power to stop it, I should use it accordingly.

"Seiko?" A voice chimed, causing me to sit up abruptly.

Megumi had returned, food in hand as he stood at the doorway, his jaw heavy and his mouth open. He looked as if he wanted to speak. He placed the food on the table nearest to us and walked towards me, taking my hand that was still on my face as he sat on the bed. He removed my hand from my face, observing my visage.

"What's wrong?" He placed my hand on his lap, smoothing it with his soft touch.

I looked away from his gaze before I spoke. "It's nothing, really... I was just thinking about the evaluation."

"Are you stressed about it?"

"It's not that..." I removed my hand from his, sending a panicked look to his face.

I played with my thumbs as I looked down at my lap.

"You have to talk to me, love." His voice was quiet, and his words flustered me nevertheless. "What is this about?"

I inhaled, ready to confess what had been on my mind.

"It's just... something that you said before." I heard a low gasp come from Megumi, his body becoming tense and full of fear as he looked it me. I looked up, my eyes glossy as his lips quivered in terror.

"W-wh... what did I-I say? Did I do something wrong? I-I promise I didn't mean to hurt you! I just.. I can't bear to think that I've made you upset." He spoke frantically, scared that he had done something to harm me.

"Megs! Don't worry, you didn't do anything." I reassured him before continuing. "Do you remember our mission at the detention centre?" I asked him.

"Yes... That was your first mission with us, right?" He made reply.

"Right. When Yuuji went to save that man, you said,'Who's to say that someone you save won't kill someone in the future'." Megumi was stunned by my ability to quote him word for word.

I looked into his eyes.

"Yuuji and I are of the same mind when it comes to our intentions as sorcerers. If anything, I wanted to save that man just as much as he did. It just made me think..." My eyes found their way to the open window by his bed. "If it came down to it and I had to kill someone, I don't think I would be able to do it."

Megumi sighed, taking my hand. "Seiko, don't downplay your abilities because of something like that. What I said may have made you think about things you may not have, which is good. Still, just because your values aren't exactly the same as mine doesn't make you any weaker or less capable than I am. We both have different stories and different paths we took to get to where we are today. And yet, here we are, sitting next to each other and dating. Our differences make us stronger. They can help to empower us and push us to new lengths. So don't ever think for a second that you're weak because we both know that you are much stronger than me and everyone else here. I mean, I'm not the one who's been recommended for special grade, am I?"

My eyes glistened at his speech, filling with water as I began to cry into his arms. I sobbed for a while before composing myself and sitting up, all the while Megumi stroked my hair and whispered reassuring words to me.

"It's hard not knowing my purpose in all of this. I sometimes wonder why I even became a sorcerer. I guess I just have to keep pushing and be resolute in what I believe. I need to make myself comfortable in this maze, and everything else will fall into place gradually." I sniffled, still hugging Megumi.

"That's my girl. You don't need to figure it all out just yet. We're still kids. It'll all come in due time." I hit his arm at his words, causing him to utter a surprised."What?"

"You can't just say that! First 'love' and now..." My words trailed off as he gave me a playful smirk.

"Now what?"

"That's my girl. Seriously?" I laughed a little bit as he smiled softly at me.

"I was just trying to lift your spirits, that's all. It seems to have worked." Megumi felt accomplished seeing the smile that graced my face.

"I love you, Seiko." Megumi spoked quickly, turning his head away from me as he did. My heart skipped a beat, my eyes widened, and my jaw slackened.

Megumi... loves me?

"I- I love you too, Megumi..." I grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him closer to me so that there were only a few inches between our faces.

I stared into his eyes, purely infatuated. I loved him. I loved him so much it hurt. Every second without him was like I had been stabbed one thousand times over. I couldn't bear not being by his side.

Love.

It's so true and serene. Desirable and seductive. It infects your heart like an incurable disease. It haunts you, makes you act in manners you would have never thought possible.

Love.

The most twisted curse of all.

༄ ༄ ༄

-> Megumi's so sweet I'm sobbing

-> I hate angst (it's only ok when I write it 🥰)

-> prepare yourselves... that's all I'm saying

-> TIME FOR INTERLUDES WOOHOO MAKE SOME NOISE !!!!!!

-> see you soon babies, love you!!!!

༄ ༄ ༄

TAGS~

@nyxlai @inlovewithlondonn @sad-darksoul @eternalalmondd @httpstoyosi @vivi-loves-penguins @samutoru @lysaray @maya-maya-56

[thewritergx]

Masked Stranger: Mandalorian x F!Reader

Summary: Rui works in her family’s shop helping tourist and local member of her community. One day, a strange man covered head to toe in Baskar walks in.

Warnings: Talks about hunting animals: Catching fish. SMUT containing: Fingering, Oral sex (male receiving), Unprotected sex, Lowkey breeding kink, Pet names (Sir, Baby, Little girl, Good girl).

Word Count: 6K

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me

The sun hits my face in the morning, making me squint my eyes and turn in my bed covers. I do not want to go out today, and I regret my sheer curtains. I glance at the clock on my bedside table, 6:27 AM. I think about staying in bed an extra hour, but I know my father will be pissed if I am late to the shop today. You would think he would give me a day or two off every once in a while, seeing as how I run the entire place. 

The planet of Sesid may offer beautiful beaches, but it comes with the awful tourists and ‘too cool’ locals. 

Our shop sits on the cusp of tourist’s and mainlander’s attractions. Everyday, I see out-of-planet visitors, Draedans, and other local species. The tourists are usually rude, too loud, and let their children break everything. Many are rich members of organizations I do not care to know anything about, always bringing young women who rarely speak but often offer soft smiles. Sadly, they are also our best customers, often buying extra beach towels, paying for surfing lessons, tipping the cashiers. The Draedans are also rude and loud, but they respect our business and always tip. A few help around in the shop too. Trenk is my favorite. He works with me the most and is in charge of catching our live fish and crab. He keeps our fish business afloat, but has had trouble out fishing major stores around us.

My father opened the shop when he was a young boy, promising to make a living that would support him and his mother, my avó. Most species I see in the shop speak basic, but my father has kept his mother’s language, Kenari, alive in our small family.

I finally role over in my bed, throwing my blankets off and exposing my body. The moist air hits my skin. I rub the sleep out of my eyes then make my way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and undressing. Under the water I feel my body wake from the shock of the cold drops hitting me. 

I throw on my bathing suit top, two black triangles tried around my neck, one small string keeping it in place. I wear a simple black bottom, the elastic material immediately digging into my ass cheeks. Over my swimsuit, I wear a pink sundress, easily removable but giving me more modest coverage for my walk to the shop. I imagine the tide will be perfect for a midday swim. The shop is a 5 minute walk from my small but comfortable apartment.

7:50AM, I step inside the shop. My pai (father) is already folding towels on the checkout counter. “Ten minutes early meu amor. Very good. Now come help me finish this batch,” my pai often greets me this way, working on a task and without looking up to see if it is actually me. I chuckle at him. 

“I am often early, pai. You must start trusting me to do more around the shop”, a conversation we are often having. My father does not like to admit that he is aging, that he needs help. I do not like to admit that this fact scares me. Instead I joke, calling him an old man. This time my father chuckles. “You are a funny young lady, you can’t run merda.”

Several hours pass. I feel my stomach growl. My pai has been gone the last 45 minués, leaving me in charge and without a lunch break. Trenk brought in a beautiful trout he caught this morning. Descaled and on ice, it waits to be grilled. “Hello?” I hear from the counter in front of me.  I stop fantasizing about the fresh fish and snap back to the reality for job.

“Alrighty, that will be 12 credits, please,” I say to the sticky child whose face is covered in a red, sweet slush. I hear the doorbell ding as another customer walks in. I let out a deep sigh. I look up expecting the usual customer, only to be greeted by a stranger in an important looking uniform. It is a thick black material that looks protective yet silky. On the most vulnerable parts of the body, rusty silver metal sits. The stranger is covered head to toe, a heavy helmet concealing their face. In the back, a long cape drapes down. I have never seen anyone dressed like him before, especially not with the intent to go to the beach. 

“H-how can I help you…sir?” I sound nervous when I speak, something I usually never experience as the man…at least I think he is a man, stares at me intensely. 

He cocks his head to the side, I assume in a confused manner. After a moment he lets out a small chuckle. “Yes, I hear from the locals that your shop sells the finest fish available. I am looking to buy enough to last four, maybe five days.” 

I smile. I am glad my pai’s shop is holding a standard the locals set. “Um y-yes, we have a small selection today. Not many bites this week. We have three tuna and one sea bass available right now, but they will not last that long without a cooling system,” I explain. 

“I will take the sea bass,” the man states plainly. 

“Okay, I will just need a name for the order.” I began to fill out the information needed to complete the sale. 

The man lets out another chuckle. I do not understand what is funny this time. “You do not know my people?” He asks. 

This time, I let out an awkward laugh. “Am I s-supposed to?” Now my head is cocked in confusion.

“I suppose not… I just thought with the shop so popular you would have seen one of my people before. I am a Mandalorian, Mando.” I notice now that his voice is too deep and vibrates my entire being “at least that is what my friends call me.” 

I write Mando on the form, trying not to look too interested in the man in front of me. “Okay, we have a few services available. We descale, debone, season, and cook the bass to your liking, you pick it up before the end of the day. Or you take it as is,” I smile, trying to remain casual. “The services are 20 credits, ‘as is’ will be 6 credits.”

“I will take the services.” The man reaches into a small bag, pulling out the credits and playing them in my hand. I notice the orange tips of his gloved hand as it brushes against mine. 

For a moment I am stuck admiring the man. I force myself out of my illusions and explain that the fish will be done in two to three hours, the last of the fish cooked before we close. 

The rest of the day is filled with me standing at the counter ringing up the customers, offering promotional deals, and denying the obvious flirts coming from the married rich men. It is around 6:00 PM. I flip the sign reading “open” that sits in the shops window. 

I head back to the “employees only” door, ready to be back in my apartment. I feel my shoulders relax as I am finally alone in the store. Trenk sometimes stays to help me close, but with the lack of bites, he is forced to go out at dawn. The perfect casting time.

In the quiet of the shop, I hear the main door ding open. “Sorry, we’ve closed,” I yell across the shop. I hear no response and decide to walk back to the counter. I guess this asshole thinks their money is more important than my time. 

As I get back behind the counter I am treated again by my mystery man from earlier in the day. “Oh, s-sorry. I am usually very good at remembering who is coming to pick up”. Although I was pissed a moment ago about the late customer, I feel a tingle of excitement at the man in front of me. 

“It is okay, um.” he stands motionless in front of me. I wonder what he is thinking. After a moment he finally lets out another soft chuckle. “Your name, I did not get it”. 

“Oh uh, my n-name is Rui,” I mumble. It is a name carried down by many women in my family. 

“Rui, very pretty.” Again, the man and I remain motionless. I feel a shifting start in our energy. 

“It is my avó’s name… t-thank you.” I feel my skin tingle and suddenly I become aware of my messy hair and sweaty forehead. 

“My fish?” The man finally asks and I startle back to my job.“Oh, yes I-I am sorry sir.” I hurry to our warmer in the back, grabbing the sea bass wrapped in reusable wax paper. It is warm and smells amazing. A flavor only Trenk can achieve. 

“Mando,” he responds back, “just call me Mando.”

Back behind the counter, I hand him the fish. This time, I see his hands are exposed. His skin is a golden color, like the sunrise on Sesid. “Okay, Mando. You are all set. Is there anything else I can do for you?” My customer service voice is back on. 

“Eat with me?” He responds, “I know you must be hungry from working.” His hands still press against mine, staying in limbo as we pass over the fish. 

“Oh uh, um.. I can do that.” Usually, I would never allow myself to be this comfortable around a stranger, much less one that does not show any part of their body to the world. “W-would you, uh, like to go to my a-apartment? I live only a block away.” 

He breaks his hands away from mine. I weirdly miss the feeling. I am not sure the sensation my body is feeling. “Yes, sounds nice,” he answers with confidence. Not once have I heard this breathe change patterns or his voice stutter. 

Mando and I close up the shop. I place the sea bass in a paper sack and slip it around my shoulder. We walk side by side the five minutes of alleyways it takes to my front door. His hand brushes up against mine a few times. I wonder if it is purposeful and how far I will allow it to go. 

“I do not have people over often, so don’t judge my place too hard.” I suddenly feel nervous as we get to the door. I wonder if I am feeling regret or embarrassment at inviting a stranger into my home. 

“I live on an old metal ship with a tiny green savage. Your place beats mine.” As we enter I feel him place his ungloved hand against the small of my back. I decide I like the feeling and I let him keep it there. 

We walk inside and I place the fish inside my oven, keeping it warm while I make arroz, a white rice. Mando sits at my counter, watching as I plate the rice and remove the fish from the warm oven. I cut the fish in two halves, giving him the bigger piece and place them on top of the rice. Over the fish and rice I drizzle a homemade sauce, one my dad has been making since he was my age. Mano looks at me with his head cocked to the side again. That confused face again. “Is something wrong,” I ask. I wonder if my voice sounds as concerned as I truly am.

“You really do not know my people, huh? I am a mandalorian. You have heard of us?” He faces me now, turning his body toward me as we sit on the small stools in my kitchen.

“I’m sorry, I tend to keep to myself most days. I have really never heard of a mandalorian. What do you do?” I notice at that moment I have many questions about the man and his culture. 

He brushes my hair behind my ear and I smile. “So innocent”. I feel my face heat up and my body start to shiver. He softly clears his throat and for a moment pauses. He removes his hand and sits a bit more upright. 

“Um, my people are bounty hunters. I am on the planet looking for a Draedan.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a picture. A Draedan with a huge scar that goes from the top of his forehead to his neck, looks plainly in the camera. “We do not show our faces, ever, to anyone. We do not tell people our names.” 

I probably looked shocked for a moment. Once I process the information I let my face relax. “That sounds lonely.” I say softly, placing my hand on the side of his helmet. I feel the cold metal press against my hand. 

After a moment of quiet, I chuckle lightly. “How do you eat then?”

He laughs a real, deep, laugh this time. “I will turn away from you and you will turn away from me. I am trusting you though, not to look.” Suddenly his voice is serious and pleading at the same time. 

“Okay, I understand.” I turn around slowly, holding the plate of food in my lap. I feel him shifting and hear a heavy metal being placed on my counter beside him. The moment feels strangely intimate, and I am scared I will turn around. Scared I’ll break his trust. For a moment I think about it. I would like to see his hair. I wonder if he has a big nose, if his face is scared like the  Draedan in the picture. 

“I will be back to buy more fish. The locals did not lie, it is amazing.” For a moment I do not recognize who is talking. His voice is more gentle, less raspy. For some reason, I feel a fire in me igniting at the sound of it. 

For a while, we eat in silence. I feel his back press against mine. Even in this position, I feel the weight of the cold metal. “So um, I…Can people see you body or is that off limits too?” I immediately feel stupid for asking. 

“You can see my body…if you would like.” Finally I hear his breathing change patterns. I know mine has too. I feel a shiver run down my body, right to my most sensitive areas. “Would you.. like to, Rui?” He asks slowly.I feel unable to speak. I swallow and try to gain the words. My back is still pressed against his, and I am happy he cannot see how flushed my face has become. “Y-yes, sir.” It comes out a whisper, hardly heard by the Mandalorian. 

“Just Mando,” he states. Again, his voice is back to the confident normalcy I have grown to. 

“Yes, Mando.” I hesitantly reply. “W-would uh, you l-like to see mine?” 

Mando says nothing back. I feel him moving around and his plate cling gently on the counter. I know he is standing behind me now because he places his hand against my cheek brushing the soft skin. I hear his boots take a few steps and he is now standing in front of me, pushing my legs apart to stand in between them. He takes the plate from my lap, sitting it next to his. He grazes my cheek again, running his hand down to my shoulder. His fingers reach the straps of my dress and play with the thin string. 

“I like this outfit. Do you wear dresses often?” His hand moves down lower, hovering just above my breast. 

“Only on days I am expecting to teach suffering lessons.” I answer too matter-of-factly. I wonder if I’ve ruined his flirty vibe. 

Mando laughs. I decide I love the sound of it. Helmet or not. “May I take it off?” He asks.

“Y-yes, Mando.” My body begins to shake, and my voice is a higher pitch than usual. 

Gently, he picks me up off the stool and places my feet on the wooden floorboards. He stands in front of me and wraps his hands around my shoulders, pulling my dress softly to the floor. Immediately, I feel my body exposed to the air. 

“Shit. You are so pretty, Rui. May I touch you?” His hands are by his side now and remain motionless. 

“Yes, sir…Mando. Please.” I can’t believe I am begging for this man already. It has been too long since I have been with anyone else. Longer than I care to admit. 

“If you keep calling me sir, I might not be able to stop.” Even with the helmet on, I swear I feel his hot breath against me. Gently, he moves his hands down to my breast, cupping a handful and messaging. 

“You like when I call you that? Sir?” I look at him, where I believe his eyes would be.

He lets out a groan and begins to untie the small strap keeping my bikini top up. 

“I have a feeling I would like any name that comes out of your mouth.” He places my nipples between two fingers, playing and tugging on them gently. I let out a soft moan, and bring my hands to his wrist, holding on as he continues.

“Fuck Mando, please. I-I think I need more.” My voice is desperate and already tired. “Can I please take this off?” I point to the metal plate on his chest, wanting to grab something, anything that is truly him. 

“Soon baby girl, right now I want to make you feel good.”

I lead Mando to my bedroom, a soft lighting from the lamp in the corner filling the room. Mando places me gently on the bed. He stands in front of me and lifts my ass off the bed just enough to pull down my bottoms. I bring my legs together, unsure of my body at this moment. 

Mando brings two fingers to my mouth, “Get these real wet, baby” he instructs. Immediately I began to suck, bobbing my head, twisting my tongue around them, and gathering as much salvia as my mouth will allow. 

“That’s so good, little girl.” Mando softly begins to spread my legs, exposing my pussy to the cool air. I push back against him, making him use more force. 

“Are you gonna make me get rough with you?” He says in a tone that I swear I see a crooked smile. 

“No, sir” I say around his fingers. I wonder how rough he would get, if I allow him to.

“Good, Rui. Now let me see you.” He uses a demanding tone, but I feel safe. Like if I truly didn’t want to, he would stop and apologize.

I decide not to test him anymore, and slowly I spread my legs farther, giving him a real view. I trace my finger down my body and began to spread the lips of my pussy. I hear Mando let out a quite “fuck”. It sends shivers down my body.

Finally, Mando removes his finger from my mouth, satisfied with the amount of spit coating them. He brings them to my clit, lightly forming small circles. It is agonizing slow but melting my body.

“Oh shit, Mando. That feels good,” I breathe in between moans. His name rolls off of my tongue too gently, too satisfying. 

“Such a sensitive little girl. How long has it been since this pussy was touched?” I feel his fingers speed up a bit, and he starts to approach my entrance. 

“Two, no…three years.” I answer honestly but I feel embarrassed to admit it to him. There really had been no reason I waited so long to be intimate with anyone, other than the fact that every man on this watery planet seems to disgust and annoy me. Plus, I use my own toys. Although I admit it will never feel as good as another person, it keeps me from needing anyone else’s pleasure. 

Mando’s fingers slow, almost to a stop. He looks at me and caresses my face.“I will take my time, then. Just relax, Rui.” He starts to speed up his fingers again, costing small moans out of me.

I feel him begin to insert one finger, and I let out a dazed gasp. Slowly, he inserts his index finger to his knuckle. He leaves it there for a moment before he begins to pull it out and pump it back in. I feel my pussy squeeze around it, sucking it farther inside me. 

His other hand travels to my neck gently applying soft pressure. “T-that’s so tight,” Mando whispers, his voice dark and needy. I only let out a moan in response, too nervous to speak.

A few minutes pass of his finger pumping in and out before I start to feel him forming a “come here” motion, hitting my g spot. 

“May I add another?” Mando releases his hand from my neck, slowly crassesing it down my body. 

I breathe deeply, nodding my head. 

“Let me hear you say it, little girl.” I feel him remove his finger entirely, waiting for my response.

“Yes, Mando. Please, add another. It feels so good”. My voice is shaky, almost a whimper. 

“Good little girl.” He adds his fingers back in and immediately I feel a change in the tightness, an extra pressure added. This time, he curls his finger with more strength. Each motion he makes presses against my g spot with light force, making me more wet by the second. 

“Oh fuck, I might come like that,” I plead. Mando responses with a groan, and I see him begin to palm himself throughout his jeans. 

His pace grows steadily and I feel the pressure grow inside me. 

“Fuck, yes baby. Cum on my fingers.” I hear him finally unzip his pants, removing his dick from the pressure of clothes. 

I do as I’m told and feel myself tighten even more around his fingers. The pressure inside me finally breaks and I release all the stress my body has held throughout the day. 

“Mmh, good girl. Look at the mess you made. Look so pretty cumming on my fingers.” He removes his fringers from inside me. I see the slick, hot wetness left on them and lick my lips. I wonder for a moment what I taste like but my thought it cut short when I feel him shove his fingers in my mouth again. It tastes hot, sticky. I moan and lick my wetness away, craving a different taste. 

I sit up, placing my hands on his clothed thighs, finally paying more attention to the thick length of the man in front of me. He is big, bigger than any ex I’ve been with. I notice the tan, pink tip and the thickness. I hope it will fit in my mouth. “C-Can I um, suck it?” I ask nervously. 

“Would you like to?” I hear a sense of hesitation in his voice. 

“Yes, I would really like to.” I look up, making as much eye contact with him as the helmet will allow. I see myself in his vizer. I admire the shape of my ass, the roundness of my boobs. 

I began to slowly lower his jeans, unveiling his balls and the golden skin of his thighs. I began to slowly kiss the skin around his member. I feel him place his hand on my head, lightly gripping my hair. Suddenly, I start to feel nervous. It has been centuries since I took anyone else in my mouth, and I feel my throat start to dry. 

Before I start to doubt myself anymore, I decide to go for it and take the tip in my mouth. I open my mouth wide, careful not to hit him with my teeth. 

“Oh shit, that’s it. Good little girl.” I look up and see Mano’s head is already tilted back, his grip in my hair tightening. I start to bob my head, making sure not to move pass the tip. I swirl my tongue, tasting the precum that has leaked out considerably. There is a hint of salt and sweat under the taste of warm vanilla. I hear Mondo’s groans grow louder and more frequently. I take it as a sign of success and move my mouth farther down his length. I allow him to hit the back of throat and let out a deep gag. I feel my split pile up and release him from my mouth before settling the spit on his tip. I begin pumping my hand down his member before returning it to my mouth. 

“Fuck. Rui, you are doing so good.” I feel my heart flutter with content, my doubt slowly leaving my thoughts. Mando abruptly applies pressure to my head, forcing me down further. “Twist your hand while you're pumping me,” he demands. 

I do as I’m told, wanting to please him as much as I can. I let out a “yes, Mando” as much as my full throat will allow me to. 

Mando countines to use my mouth and push me down further. I try my hardest to keep my mouth open and breathe through my nose. After a few minutes he begins slowing his pace and losses his grip in my hair. 

“If you keep letting me do that, I’m gonna cum before I even get a chance to feel you wrapped around me.” His beating is deep. I see his chest rising and falling under his gear.

“You liked it?” I ask with a glimmer of hope, whipping away the spit from my mouth and hands on the blanket under me.

“Your mouth is a paradise. I could stay inside it for days if you allowed me to.” Mando straightened up my hair, removing any mess his fingers may have made. I try not to let his statement go to my head and instead let out a polite thank you. 

In this moment, I want so badly to kiss him, to suck a mark on his neck. Instead, I place a kiss on the cold metal of his chest. Silently, he teasingly removes the material cover his chest and the boots blocking his pants until he is left standing in only his helmet. 

I feel excitement run throughout my body. I try to keep from shaking as I run my hands down his chest. I notice a few big scars scattered around his chest, stomach, a few on his arms. I kiss each of them, paying extra attention to one justt under his concealed neck. I wonder for a moment how he got each of them. Did they hurt? Are there any he wishes were gone? Does he enjoy having a badge of honor from his bounties? I notice one that's pinker than the rest, more fresh and angry looking. I run my finger over it lightly, taking in every detail of his body he will allow me. 

Mando steps closer, cupping my chin in his hand. I nuzzle in his grip, feeling the rough calluses of his palm brush against me. Mando lays me down flat on the bed, my legs bent at the knees. He brings his body forward, starting to hover over me. He places his palms at the side of my head, lining up his pelvis with mine. I feel his cock lightly brush against the outside of my thigh and I shiver. I am unable to control by breathing anymore and I shake nervously. 

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He says, his covered face just over mine. 

“Yes, sir,” I nod, and spread my legs to give him easier access.

Mando starts to align the tip of his cock to my entrance. I grip one of his arms, preparing for the sensation of pressure as the first inch or two enter me. I let out a gasp, feeling him stretch me more than I ever have been. I feel my climax build already. 

“Oh fuck, Mando.” I try to calm myself down and relax my body, “You’re so big”. I try not to moan too loud as I feel him finally press all the way in. He hits my cervix softly, causing more moans to leave my mouth. Mando waits for a moment, making sure I am ready for him to start moving. 

I nod at his hesitantly. Gently, he moves his hips out. I feel his tip still inside before he moves back in again. He is so thick, I feel my walls almost reject him. He brushes again me g-spot, and I try not to wiggle away from him.

“So tight, so wet for me,” Mando whispers. I feel the vibration from the voice changer in the air. Manos bends his arms, his forearms now resting next to my head. His body is closer now, the full weight of him presses against me. His helmet rests at the side of my head, and I hear every groan and breath he makes. I wrap my legs around him, sinking him in further.

His trust get a bit faster and he hits my g-spot with more force. I can hear his skin slapping against mine and the sound of our wetness mixing. My moans become more of a cry as my body begs for more pressure. More of him. My hands travel down to his back and I try not to dig my nails too deep. Although from the sight of his scars, I’m sure he can take it.

“Fuck Mando, please.” I can hardly form words any longer. 

“Please What, Rui? What do you need from me, little girl?

“Please, a little harder,” I say through gasps of air. Immediately he snaps his hips harder against me. I almost see stars before the pressure builds in me even more. “Yes, just like that. I’m about to cum.” After a few thrust he is pushing me over the edge and my legs are shaking around him. My walls grip him tighten and I swear my juices are leaking from my entrance. 

“Good girl, cum all over this dick.” Mando speeds up even more, each thrust hammering my g-spot. Before I’m able to recover, I’m pushed over the edge again. This time my body is unable to prepare, and I let out a small scream. 

I feel Mando’s thrust get messy, loosing his rhythm . His breath gets hotter, thicker and he is whispering dirty pet names in my ear. 

“Fuck, baby. So so tight. Where should I finish?” It takes me a moment to process his question. Once I understand, I contemplate begging him to fill me up, drip down my thighs, and make me his. I try to throw the thought away and tell him to cum anywhere else, but I can’t force myself to stop thinking of the warm sensation. 

“J-just wherever you want, anywhere.” It comes high pitched and needy. 

“Tell me where, Rui. Where do you want it?” I hear the struggle in his voice, each word dragged out an extra syllable. 

I let out a quite, unintelligible “I-inside me, please”. 

“Good little girl, so sweet to me.” His hips hit me with a force I have never experienced, hitting my cervix so hard I swear it will leave a bruise. My nails are undeniably digging in his back, leaving marks that will last for days. I try not to scream anymore and bite down on Mando’s fingers he’s brought back inside my mouth. I feel small tears gather in the corners of my eyes.

After a few thrust, I hear Mando let out a string of curses. His fluid mixes with mine, and I feel a warm thick substance spill out of the side around Mando’s cock. He slows his hips and stays motionless inside me. After and a few moments, he gently pulls out and I whine form the lost of him.

He lays next to me as I try to stop my breathing and keeps moans from falling out of my mouth. My legs are still shaking and I feel unable to move. Mando notices my struggle, and brings me up to chest, laying on top of him. 

“Shh little girl, I got you. You did so good for me.” Mando slowly rubs my back letting out more small “shh” sounds. After a few minutes, my breathing is relaxed and the shaking is less intense. I feel my eyes getting heavy as I relax into his warm body and before I can keep myself from the temptation, I am falling asleep in his arms.

[phoenix-manga]

Perrine Bousquet

CV: Takada Yuuki

Biographical Information

Gender: Female

Age: 17

Birthday: December 25

Starsign: Capricorn

Height: 164 cm

Eye Color: Hemlock

Hair Color: Old Gold

Professional Status

Dorm: Lagniappe

School Year: 2nd Year

Class: 2-E | Student no. 7

Occupation: Student | Dorm Leader

Club: Roleplay Game Club

Best Subject: Party Hosting

Fun Facts

Favorite Food: Beignets

Least Favorite Food: Frog legs

Dislikes: Occult activity

Hobby: Jazz music

Talents: Quick cooking

Idol Stats

Performance: Strong vocals that is fit for singing musicals or jazz

Choreography: Mostly knows jazz footwork with a small dose of street dancing

Styling Jewel Outfits: Classical | Quirky | Cool

Perrine is a cheerful young lady who views the world in a “glass is half-full” mindset. Her nature is warm and welcoming, able to ease even the coldest and sternest of hearts to an extent. Though she mostly wins them over with the food she makes.

She is diligent but knows how to make her tasks fun so as not to get bored. Perrine also likes to make organized planners with cute aesthetics. This helps her keep focused and not feel like the tasks are such a chore. Though this can be a double-edged sword, while she is seen as reliable and hard-working, she can end up biting more than she can chew.

Perrine is open to support and praise almost anything her friends are into even if she doesn’t understand it. Even if others see it as weird or outlandish, if it makes her friends happy then she thinks it can’t be all bad.

Perrine may look like a pushover with how much favors she does for everyone but she can stop a fight as quickly as it starts. It always ends with both sides making a compromise or outright apologizing for the ruckus they caused.

She is quite skilled with handling people with such unlikable attitudes, though she doesn’t force her friendship onto them. She merely just provides them a little bit of company for them to become somewhat nicer to others.

Hometown: Marshland Port

Family Life

Perrine and her family lived in the Marshland Port, but back then it wasn’t as lively as it was today. It was dull and the swamp area made it unbearable for non-locals to visit. Only a handful of families lived in that land and managed to set up a small community there.

Perrine was told that their great grandparents invested in making the marshland a port and so they worked hard and foraged for anything that would be of value. Much to their surprise there was an abundant source of produce there, not to mention that the fireflies that come out at night was so beautiful that they decided to advertise it as a tourist attraction.

It wasn’t long before the port became a town and many tourists were coming in to see the sights and the try the food there. A majority of the houses in that place have built-in shops on the first floor while the second floor is their housing area.

The house shops have become a symbol of their community that it wouldn’t be the same if they were removed.

Perrine’s family runs a restaurant, the place is a family-run business which would explain how Perrine was very quick on her feet and dexterous despite having so much to do. She learned how to cook at a young age because she wanted to help out more.

Things were going great until a rich family built a restaurant across the street and was a bit obnoxious in competing against the small businesses around it. The other families were also bothered by the way these elites tend to take customers away from them for the sake of profit. The families simply wanted to run a business because they feel close as a community like that.

Childhood Memories

Perrine remembered how happy her family and neighbors were when she made her first dish all on her own. They celebrated by sharing it amongst others and some adults even brought alcohol to pair it with. That’s one of the moments that sparked Perrine’s love for cooking but it was really to see others smile and get along while enjoying good food.

Her parents gave her the family’s cooking pot as a present for her birthday after making that dish. Perrine takes good care of it and uses it for personal cooking, she felt like it gave her inspiration whenever she felt like experimenting.

Though there were times that her enthusiasm made her produce some… questionable combinations and her father and big brother didn’t have the guts to criticize it. Her Mawmaw did though and Perrine wasn’t even offended, she was more offended by her father and her brother being dishonest to spare her feelings.

But when the new restaurant owned by rich folk from some faraway kingdom wanted to topple the family-owned businesses, Perrine felt dread at the thought of losing what she considered a sacred place. No more merriment and chatter amongst neighbors and relatives, the warmth of the community gone and replaced with staff you barely know and won’t interact with you unless it’s about product.

The made her realize that she wanted to keep this place as it was! It became her goal to work hard to show those elites that fancy products and luxurious buildings don’t express the closeness of their small community.

Perrine was ecstatic to be chosen to go to such a prestigious academy and her enthusiasm made her a welcome sight amongst the see of nervous freshmen students.

Her personality and way of life made other students get together like a family and thus she was appointed as dorm leader soon after. Perrine was quite surprised but she ended up taking in her new role with pride.

She was very pleased to find out that the dorm had a restaurant built in along with a smaller boat that serves as a travelling food truck.

Though it was tough for a while to balance dorm work and school work, the students took initiative to help her out and give her a breather. Perrine isn’t used to sitting still as she feels the need to do something, but she appreciates their help and it felt nice to have her hard work recognized and repaid.

In academics, she is mostly getting B grades with the occasional A at times she feels pumped. But of course her skills in culinary and handicraft is obviously exceptional.

Perrine didn’t struggle as much because she often joined study groups to learn more about the subjects better, I guess it also helped that she allowed them to bring snacks to keep them from being fatigued too.

School Relationships

Perrine usually gets along with a lot of the students though there are a few that she would consider to be a part of her friend group.

Allison is her kitchen friend, she and her get together to create new and exciting dishes. Though Allison likes to add a bit of surprise to her food, such as candy that makes your hair change color or cupcakes that bounce around when you try to eat them. She gives her a lot of ideas for a new dish!

Cerule piqued Perrine’s interest when she realized she was a mermaid. She was curious to know what kind of foods she ate and how did they cook under the sea if they had no fire. Needless to say, Cerule is basically gambling her taste buds if she is picked to sample Perrine’s new dish.

Most of the time it’s very good but there are times that she is weirded out by the combinations humans come up with.

Vidya took a liking to Perrine, which made the girl grab the opportunity to sample some authentic cuisine from the oasis kingdom. Vidya was also like a big sister to her, always giving her advice and reminding her that she has her own capabilities as well.

Jinlong and Elu’s sense of smell is much more sensitive compared to humans and thus they were enticed by the scent of spices wafting off Perrine. She can tell that they are curious and maybe a little bit hungry so one day she approached them with food in hand and an acquaintanceship started from there.

Of course, she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to learn more of their culture through food. Though they don’t have to tell her, Perrine can see through their manners and facial expressions that they have problems regarding family.

Perrine has lived in a tight knit neighborhood, so she would pick up on certain mannerisms.

One struggles with a family’s opposition for her ambitions while the other struggles to brave the unknown for the sake of her family. Perrine doesn’t say it upfront though, it was none of her business but she wants them to realize that the academy can be a second home to them and the students as their second family.

Lillie is the party-loving socialite in the dorm, she livens up parties just by being there. Her form is based on Perrine’s love for her community. They celebrate holidays and birthdays together, the joy and laughter of those memories are what keep her motivated.

However, Lillie isn’t always about parties, she lends an ear and gives words of encouragement to those who need it most. There were times that Perrine forgets to take care of herself, Lillie is there to remind her all the time to take care of herself. Fun shouldn’t be at the cost of one’s health

Big Tom

He is a tomato frog, but he is unusually big for something so small. His size is close to a bradley tomato more. He loves anything red and will eat them a lot but of course he loves tomatoes the most.

Big Tom can be seen snacking on all kind of tomatoes, Perrine jokingly put him in a tomato basket when he was passed out on a food coma. It was kind of cute so Perrine takes pictures every time she does this.

Big Tom has an odd sprout on the top of his head, Perrine has no idea why it’s there but she suspects that because he stays in one place for a long-time greenery tends to grow on the skin. He really does look like a tomato with that sprout.

Big Tooth

He is an alligator that is often mistaken as a swamp monster with how much greenery is on his back due to staying in one place for too long. Big Tooth is not owned by Perrine, he’s just so fond of her that he might as well be adopted by her.

Though he is a wild animal, he has taken a liking to Perrine since she came to check on him once after hearing he had a toothache. After that, he always waits for her at the dorm to greet her and even wags his tail.

Big Tom likes to sunbathe on his head sometimes and Big Tooth doesn’t mind at all. Perrine is the one who named him, “Big Tooth” because he was the largest alligator in the entire dorm.

Her unique magic is called, “Golden Spice”, she can see the properties of spices whether it be in the use of cooking or alchemy, she can immediately tell what their purpose is. Though not useful for offensive combat, it can be utilized for quality check as well as learning more about spices.

Perrine lucked out with her unique magic, so she keeps a notebook detailing the various uses and experiments she did on spices.

Perrine isn’t good in magift but she puts her unique magic to use even a little by distracting opponents with an enticing smell. She could conjure a scent spell relating to the spice she studied.

Plus, the spice can have different effects once it invades the sense of smell such as feeling drowsy or feeling riled up. Perfect for a distraction.

Other than that, she is also skilled in using fire and ice magic but once again, they are mostly used for cooking.

Elva Bousquet

The headstrong mother of the household and an excellent cook. She and her family used to be in poverty until she and her husband decided to start catering to small parties within their community. Word of their delicious food got so popular that they managed to start a restaurant and it inspired others to start businesses too.

So, their community became a popular tourist spot because of the shops and restaurants that are a part of the houses. She is one tough mama bear, her motto is always “No work, no eat!” she made sure her children know that slacking off doesn’t produce results.

Jeremiah Bousquet

The father of the household who always has wise words to give. He knows hard work is important but reminds his children that if they work too hard then they’ll have no one to share their proud moments with.

He helped set up a catering business and the recipes used were from his mama who he remembered as a sassy old lady but with a golden heart that gives. He sometimes sings when he’s feeling happy that day, his children can hear him scat singing in the kitchen.

He’s a doting father to his children to the point he won’t comment if his children made a mistake in cooking and he’s too worried about their feelings to be truthful, his mother and wife shake their heads at him every time.

Grandma Hattie

Jeremiah’s mother who still loves to spoil her grandchildren and sit outside the porch. The customers are fond of her motherly nature and even laugh at her witty jokes, everyone affectionately calls her “Mawmaw”.

Even though she’s a sweet grandma, she can’t stand people who harass her family, she was about to take her walking stick and smack that rival restaurant owner who wanted to buy their house. She definitely dislikes those kinds of people, arrogant and puts their value on wealth.

Theodore Bousquet (23)

The eldest who now owns the family restaurant after his parents retired, his dad still cooks but he has other employees who do the majority of the cooking. He’s a big guy with a scary-looking face but he is very nice and friendly with the customers.

Lately, he’s having trouble with the restaurant across the street that is owned by a rich company from abroad that looks down on them. But as the eldest, he needs to be strong, so he endures for their sake.

Ida Bousquet (13)

The second youngest of the family who is mute but can read lips easily and has her own sign language that only the family can understand. She is a sweet girl who loves to make dolls and play puppets with them with the other kids on the street.

Though she isn’t afraid to speak her mind and the rest of the family are wide-eyed at the words she would sign at someone she doesn’t like, such brutal honesty.

Dixie Bousquet (8)

The youngest of the family who is quite spunky and energetic, always running around the marshland to catch frogs. Her momma always tells her to let it go and she can’t keep it, so she just borrows her dad’s camera to take pictures instead, though she still tries to catch them again but doesn’t bring them home this time.

The character’s name, “Perrine”, means “rock, stone”, while her last name, “Bousquet” comes from the old French word “bois” meaning “the woods”. The last name just sounded fitting so there was no other thought behind the selection other than aesthetic.

Perrine was tricky to work with since her previous personality was almost a copy-paste of Tiana. The artist decided to just make her a culinary artist who can make something delicious or absurd as one of her personality traits to separate her from her counterpart.

The artist was a bit at odds with the character designs considering the time period and working with the darker skin tone is a bit different. But this would also be a good practice on working with skin tones.

[artist-kreating-stuff]

I made these two a while ago and figured it was probably time to give them their own OC sheet!

Meet Shōrai and Kako Yogensuru, the Yin-Yang Sisters! Around the time I made them, I was fascinated with the concept of conjoined twins - two people who literally share a body, yet are individuals in their own ways. The MHA universe is kind of quirky and cool like that, so I thought “Hey - why don’t I make my own conjoined twins?”

The twins were born in a small town in the Japanese countryside. Their birth was a surprise, as their parents were expecting only one baby. In fact, their father was so shocked, he exclaimed, “You gave birth to a monster!” and ran out of the hospital room. Neither the twins nor their mother would ever see him again.

Raising conjoined twins wasn’t easy, but their mother owned a small bookstore, so she was able to make enough money to support all three of them. The twins literally grew up in the bookstore, surrounded by authors of all genres. Whenever a new book or series came out, they were the first ones in town to read it.

Despite being surrounded by books most of their lives, their mother still wanted them to have a normal childhood, so she enrolled them in the local school. Their conjoined body made it hard for them to make friends, and they were teased often. “Freak”, “Ogre”, and “Two Head” were common nicknames, but the few friends they were able to make helped them through it.

When they were in their senior year of high school, their mother’s health started to slip and she was unable to keep up with the demands of the bookstore anymore. The doctor told her that an early retirement was best. The store was the twins’ home, though. They assured their mother that they would take care of the store while she rested. Their mother tried to protest, saying that they still had college to think about, but the twins had already decided between themselves that they wouldn’t go to college. So their mother was moved to a retirement home while the twins took over the bookstore.

True to their name, the twins are polar opposites:

- Shōrai likes bright colors while Kako prefers darker colors.

- Shōrai likes to dress comfortably while Kako thinks dressing for business is best. They alternate each day who chooses their clothing and who chooses their shoes. Shōrai will choose a sweater and sweatpants one day and slip ons the next; Kako will choose a full on business suit one day and heels the next.

- Shōrai enjoys reading fiction and fantasy stories while Kako likes dark poetry and thrillers.

- They only have one stomach, so they eat just about as much as a normal person per meal. Shōrai likes to experiment with different foods while Kako likes to keep it simple and traditional.

Their Quirk is Double Vision. When Shōrai and Kako make physical contact with a person, Kako can see up to 10 years into that person’s past while Shōrai can see up to 10 years into that person’s future. They can’t go any farther than 10 years in either direction, and over use leads to extreme headaches and dry eyes.

This Quirk often got them into trouble in the past, as people in town and school would often ask them to touch them so that they could either get the scoop on something in their future, or remember something important from their past. It happened so often that they started to charge money for the readings, which earned them a small fortune. But people kept asking them for readings despite the fee, which started to take a toll on their mental health, and their mother finally noticed and pulled the plug on the operation.

Their Quirk was mostly why they decided not to go to college in the city. They didn’t want even more people asking them for readings, and they especially didn’t want the details of their Quirk to reach the wrong ears. Word always finds a way of getting out, though. Sometimes a tourist or a passing Hero will come into the bookstore and ask for a reading, to which the twins can either comply or refuse. Shōrai enjoys the visits, saying that their store has become kind of like a side quest in a novel. Kako couldn’t care less about the visits and is just happy if the visitors don’t obstruct their business.

Gotta say, it’s kind of fun making MHA OCs! I have a couple more in mind…

[slasher-fucker-and-sucker]

Echoes of Laughter - Arthur Fleck Drabble [1]

London, 2024

The bustling streets of London were a stark contrast to the chaotic, dark corners of Gotham. Tourists mingled with locals, and the hum of conversation filled the air. Ambrose strolled through Trafalgar Square, his thoughts elsewhere. It had been years since he'd left Gotham, escaping the painful memories that haunted him.

His mind wandered back to those days, to the man he once knew as Arthur Fleck. Their relationship had ended disastrously, a maelstrom of misunderstandings and emotional turmoil. Arthur had always been different, his struggles with mental health often overwhelming him. Ambrose tried to support him, but the weight became too much. His parting words were harsh, cutting deep into the fragile fabric of their bond.

Ambrose shook off the memories, focusing on the present. He had built a new life here in London, far removed from the shadows of his past. But fate had a cruel sense of humor.

As he turned a corner, he froze. There, standing in front of a small coffee shop, was Arthur Fleck. He looked different, yet the same—his eyes still held that haunting depth, but there was something more controlled, more dangerous, about him now.

Arthur's gaze met Ambrose's, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The world around them faded, leaving only the two of them, bound by an invisible thread of shared history and unresolved emotions.

Arthur's lips curled into a semblance of a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Ambrose," he said, his voice a soft, almost mocking whisper. "Long time, no see."

Ambrose swallowed hard, memories flooding back with a force that nearly took his breath away. "Arthur… I didn't expect to see you here."

"Neither did I," he replied, his tone carrying an edge that made Ambrose shiver. "Life has a way of bringing us back to where we least expect, doesn't it?"

Flashback to Gotham, 2019

The small apartment felt suffocating as Ambrose and Arthur stood on opposite sides of the room, their argument echoing off the walls. Arthur's face was a mask of pain and confusion, his laughter bubbling up uncontrollably as he tried to articulate his feelings.

"I can't do this anymore, Arthur," Ambrose had said, tears streaming down his face. "I love you, but I can't be the one holding you together. I can't be the one you lean on when the world is too much."

Arthur's laughter turned into sobs, his hands clutching his head. "Don't leave me, Ambrose. Please, I need you."

But Ambrose had made up his mind. He left, the sound of Arthur's heartbroken laughter following him out the door.

Back to London, 2024

Standing in front of Arthur now, Ambrose felt a wave of guilt and sorrow wash over him. "Arthur, I… I'm sorry for how things ended between us. I never wanted to hurt you."

Arthur's expression softened, but only slightly. "It's in the past, Ambrose. We can't change what happened. But I've changed. I'm not the same man you knew back then."

"I can see that," Ambrose replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "You seem… different."

Arthur's smile widened, this time with genuine warmth. "Life has a way of shaping us, for better or worse. I've found a new path, a new purpose."

Ambrose nodded, unsure of what to say. The silence stretched between them, filled with unspoken words and lingering regrets.

Finally, Arthur broke the silence. "Would you like to catch up? Maybe we can find some closure, or at least understand each other better."

Ambrose hesitated, then nodded. "I'd like that."

They walked into the coffee shop, side by side, two souls bound by a shared past, seeking solace and perhaps a chance at redemption. As they sat down and began to talk, the echoes of their laughter and tears slowly faded into the background, replaced by the possibility of healing and new beginnings.

[ritualofcirice]

Don’t Know Where the Flow Will Go, but if It’s His Show You Know I’m in Tow (DK West x Reader)

🐑 ♡ Thank you darling Sycamore for taking the time to beta this story ♡ 🐑

Rumour has it, DK West is in your area. You would love to meet him, and as it turns out, fate has got you covered!

Teen and Up Audiences, No Warnings, F/M, M/M, Other/M, Tag(s): Oneshot, Flirting, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Worldbuilding, Gender Ambiguous Reader, POV Second Person

Find it on ao3 ♡ WC: 1,654

Record Coast spanned more than a ten kilometre strip of blue lagoons, sea breeze shores, and sweet serenades on golden sands. Resorts dotted the land between palm trees. Tourists flocked in droves when the sun shone. At the centre of it all, a stage known as Melegakan. The location lent itself to the mixing pot, and music from all over the world seemed to seek solace in the embrace of the establishment. Many vendors owed their business to it. Without it, you were sure the seafront would slow. You saw it slow when the rain would come. It always did, during those quieter periods when you relied on local support rather than international. Yet summer boomed and Record Coast avoided a rundown retirement.

Despite this all, you lived on the outskirts of the coastal region, where you commuted to Melegakan nightly to work at the bar. Free shows paid your soul, and the drinks you served paid for your apartment. Adagio was the name of the sleepy town. Tourism didn't quite reach you, and so you enjoyed the vibrancy of the resorts, in contrast to the boarded windows of some residences near you. It wasn't all bad, but you loved the life of the party. You loved your town too, but you knew where your heart lay. That was why you carried it all deep within you, and you shared it with all the energy you could spare. If you could exude an aura of colour, you would shimmer like a rainbow. That was how you brightened up an otherwise dimmed town. That's how the others who lived there did it too. It was the people that made it.

At least, that was your opinion.

Someone new had made waves through the alleyways and streets of Adagio, however. It started as a ripple, a mention of a name from the mouth of one to the ear of another. Record Coast had heard the name, and so had you. DK West. When your neighbour asked if you had seen him at work, you knew he was big. He was a rapper, popular with many, and he had been performing along Record Coast. Excitement buzzed at the prospect that he would come to Adagio, and you felt it in your bones. As Melegakan pulsed with a similar affliction of joy, you danced behind the counter. Your audience was the bottles lined on the shelves, and each one drenched you in a unique colour with every hand flick, hip sway, or footstep. Your colleague was also a witness, a fan you would say. She cheered you on from the sidelines.

The saxophone riff carried you in its arms, and the beat of the drums controlled your feet. Each instrument offered its own dance that begged for dominance in the routine, but the biggest lure was that of the customer. Your act was cut short whenever you had to serve, albeit the crowd of familiar faces usually wanted to have a chat or dance at the other side of the counter.

Most did not call out to you though when they approached.

“Hey sunshine! Those moves are sweet, sweet,” a voice boomed. “Real smooth.” There was no confusion as to who the voice belonged to. The stranger carried the 'smooth' with a lilt and a wave like the word lapped on the shore. The rest of his body was slouched into a stool, broad shoulders decorated by ginger locks. With your attention, he reclined, finger guns trained on you.

"Amacam, sunshine!" Your colleague had stumbled into your side and clung onto your arm. It left you confused as she tried to tug you away, but you didn't budge. When you didn't, she hurriedly informed you of what she had to say in a hushed breath.

"That's DK West," she told you. The DK West. The one that had caused such a ruckus in the Coast and its towns.

"The one and only! Ewah!" DK West exclaimed, arms wide in his excellence. It was as if he asked you to bask in it.

"Well then! DK West, meet Farah. Farah, this is West," you chimed. The introduction amused you to no end. You revelled in Farah's sudden timidness, opposed to their supportive, courageous self moments ago. Dk West acquainted himself with her, then turned back to you. He tilted his head with a curious look to an otherwise playful expression. One that hadn't dropped that smile from the moment you looked at him.

"And you, what do I call you, hm?" he questioned. You told him and he said it once, then twice. He rolled it on his tongue like sugar.

"A human name," he then added. Everything told you to bite onto that statement, from the way he had leant forwards once more, to the glint in his eye. The absurdity of the statement alone begged you to query.

"A human name?" you repeated, now relaxed against the bar behind you.

"Ya, human for a deity of dance! That's you sunshine." When you couldn't help but smile at his statement, it seemed his confidence grew. He had charm, even if it came across strong. You worked with that.

"Deity of drinks too," you corrected him. "Can I get you anything, or are you here for a chat?"

"To relax. To chat. To drink. I am here for everything. Now, you too,” DK West informed you, a hand brushed along his hair. He ordered barley juice after that, and you fixed it up for him. All the while, he chatted with Farah, and served the conversation back to you. The odd person would pass by and greet DK West too, often with a fist bump or high five. When you asked him why he wasn’t on stage, he stopped dead. He motioned to himself, then the stage, eyebrows raised.

“Nah nah nah, I said I’m here to relax. Besides, I’ve shared my music with the people on the streets,” he sang. Something amused him, and his sides shook with a deep laughter that enraptured you. What had led him to fall about himself, you didn’t know, but you appreciated the genuine enjoyment that radiated off of him. If he was any more animated with himself though, you feared he would fall from his seat.

“Nah,” DK West repeated, “I would steal all their fans if I stood there.” Your attention was guided to the stage where the band continued to play. From what you had heard, DK West was good, and you took him at his word.

The bar continued to fluctuate with tourists coming to get their drinks and locals enjoying the band, yet DK West remained with you. Farah had gone to serve someone at the far end of the counter, and you finished serving another customer yourself. All the while, you flitted between small talk with your favourite of the night. When you slipped out of the conversation, gestures and glances spoke between you both. You mixed a cocktail, and he applauded your theatrics with the bottles. When you glanced his way, he returned your stolen looks. When you existed in the same space as him, you both seemed to find interest in everything the other did.

It was like a current, one that swept you under unprepared and left you opposite him while he leant across the countertop. No customers bothered you, and he sat with his chin heavy in his palm. Meanwhile, you leant closer. Your arms were folded beneath your chest, and your weight positioned on one shoulder. A glass separated you by an handful of inches.

“Tell me more about you, sunshine,” his voice was hushed in contrast to what it had previously been. “Where did you learn to dance so good?” Caught in the privacy of your talk, you felt as though you had him all to yourself. A welcome heat had flushed your face, and you were aware of the allure that perfumed the air.

“I felt it, never learnt. When the music tells you to dance, you don’t have time to learn. You just have to go with the flow, you know?” you explained. Head rolled from one shoulder to the other as you spoke, you demonstrated said flow. West mimicked the motion in his own style, one that drew out the move to emphasise the enjoyment of the moment. It partnered well with the grin he wore.

"I like it," he buzzed. "Going with the flow is all my style. You're a person truly after my heart." Farah called for you at that moment, and West closed himself off with folded arms. Likewise, you straightened and responded to the plea. Before you left West to himself, you dropped him a wink, unable to help the smile that claimed you. Oh you felt good. You hadn't gotten to speak to him much, but you liked the way he carried himself. The blatant flirting too.

Something about the unapologetic way he seemed to exist as himself, and only himself, reeled you in tight. That, and the rugged looks of a man who took care of himself just enough to edge that free, wild look without being unkempt.

His voice too. You could listen to him talk, rap, whatever came out of that mouth was as sweet as ambrosia. You didn’t need to be asked twice by that mouth for a napkin. You just provided and went on your way. He flourished a pen on the sidelines, but what he wrote while you worked was a mystery to you.

Then, in a blink, he was gone.

You hadn’t seen him leave. However, you did get to look at the napkin. On it, was a crude drawing of himself with a thumbs up and the exact date, time, and location of his next show. Finally, there was a heart, with a message to let you know how much he wanted you there.

[lacefuneral]

I was thinking that I would like to go to Aotearoa someday but because the flight to get there would be so grueling that it would have to be a situation where like. I would be crashing at someone's house for a few weeks or something. because the idea of having to spend like an entire day in the air and then landing and then having the time zones be like an entire day off and then you know expecting to habituate to that within a very short span and then be doing things and then get on a plane and do the reverse like that sounds awful

and then I'm also like thinking like what the logistics of that would be like. Because I take 1 million medication's because I'm disabled so it's like. How do I get all of that over there and also like do I have to make sure because like the United States is like weirdly lax about like what chemicals go in our products like. Do I have to make sure that the conditioner that I use can be like legally brought into the country you know? 



and then I'm also thinking about stupid things like I use a weighted blanket sometimes. There's no way in hell I'm gonna try to like take a weighted blanket with me. like that just sounds like a fucking nightmare

oh and also like the electric situation. Because several years ago I was in Ireland for a few days. Like literally three days. And I had an adapter but it failed or something and like smoke came out of it. So that's not good. And like I think I would be very scared to plug anything in because it's like. Historically I have not done so well with adapters. I don't wanna like accidentally start a fire because I tried to plug my ancient MacBook in

but I do think like. I would like to go. and do my best to not to be an annoying tourist. like especially if I was gonna be there for a couple of weeks I would wanna like talk to the local trans community and see you know if there's anyway that I can help out or we could just hang out or whatever. and also like  supporting small businesses is super important to me so I'd make sure I went out of my way to you know support artists and coffee store owners and stuff

but this is a hypothetical situation for future Jay who does not have a concussion and has money and isn't scared of flying that far of a distance and has all of their ducks in a row and has someone that they can physically stay with during their time and also make sure that their friend is with them because I want my friend to go with me

but you know it's one of those like. Things that you think about and it's like. Life sucks a lot right now but maybe it will suck a little bit less at some point. like yeah I have a brain injury and I am on day 16 of a period that should've ended 11 days ago and  my startle reflex has never been so high in my life like literally everything is making me jump out of my skin. And you know just mental healthwise I've not been doing so good lots of body dysmorphia especially but! It will not always be that way. Like I think a lot to me when I was 18 and I was a freshman in college and I knew I was trans and I was really fucking scared about it because I thought that I was never gonna be able to transition and I remember like thinking that I was the lowest point in my life. And I also remember when I had pneumonia back to back and I was really scared that I was gonna die and I managed to pull through that and I was OK and also the time that I was hospitalized because I ate a fragment of a pecan and my EpiPen was expired so it wasn't doing enough to keep me alive. And I made it through that somehow. Like shit sucks until it doesn't. And you look forward for the doesn't

This has been my post 

[theclassiestcyberman]

What to do Today in Orono, MN Events & Festivals

Orono, Minnesota is a city that is known for its quaint charm and outdoor activities. Whether you are a local or a tourist, there is always something exciting to do in this city. From outdoor festivals to indoor exhibitions, there is a never-ending list of activities that can keep you entertained throughout the day.

Outdoor Festivals and Events

Orono Farmers Market

The Orono Farmers Market is an event that takes place every Saturday, from 9 am to 1 pm, in the Orono Village Green Park. You can explore a variety of local products, such as fruits and vegetables, honey, cheese, and baked goods. This is a great opportunity to buy fresh produce, support local farmers, and mingle with the community.

Art in the Park

Art in the Park is an outdoor festival that is held annually in July in the same location as the farmers market. This event showcases the works of local artists, including paintings, sculptures, and photography. You can also enjoy live music and food vendors.

Orono Oktoberfest

Orono Oktoberfest is a festival that takes place in September and celebrates German culture. You can sample authentic German food and beer, dance to live music, and participate in traditional games. This is a great way to experience German culture and traditions while enjoying a day out in Orono.

Indoor Exhibitions and Museums

Orono Historical Society Museum

The Orono Historical Society Museum is a must-visit for history buffs and anyone interested in learning about the history of Orono. This museum showcases artifacts and exhibits that date back to the city's founding in the 1800s. You can also learn about the city's growth and development over the years.

Lakeview Park Nature Reserve and Arboretum

The Lakeview Park Nature Reserve and Arboretum is a beautiful indoor and outdoor space that is home to a variety of plant species. This park is perfect for nature enthusiasts who want to explore the beauty of the outdoors. You can also attend guided tours and workshops to learn more about the different plant species and their importance.

Orono Art Center

The Orono Art Center is a gallery and museum that showcases the works of local artists. You can admire paintings, sculptures, and other works of art that reflect the creativity and talent of Orono's art community. This is a great place to take in some culture and inspiration.

Sporting Activities and Games

Orono Ice Arena

The Orono Ice Arena is a popular destination for ice hockey enthusiasts. You can watch a game, learn how to skate, or join a pick-up game. This is a great way to stay active and enjoy a day out in Orono.

Orono Park and Beach

The Orono Park and Beach is a popular destination for outdoor enthusiasts. You can swim, fish, boat, or simply relax by the lake. This is a great way to enjoy the beautiful scenery and natural beauty of Orono.

Orono Golf Course

The Orono Golf Course is a 9-hole golf course that is perfect for golfers of all skill levels. You can enjoy a round of golf, take lessons, or participate in a tournament. This is a great way to spend a day out in Orono while enjoying your favorite sport.

Orono, MN is a city that is full of activities and events that are suitable for everyone, regardless of age or interest. Whether you enjoy outdoor festivals, indoor exhibitions, sporting activities, or just a quiet day in nature, there is something for everyone in this city. Whether you are a local resident or a tourist, there is always something new and exciting to do in Orono, MN. So why not make the most of your day and explore all that this city has to offer?

So pack your bags, grab your family and friends, and get ready for a fun-filled day in Orono, MN. And if you're looking for a place to stay, there are many cozy bed and breakfast options and hotels that offer great amenities and services. Don't forget to bring your camera, as you will want to capture all the memories and moments that you will experience in this charming city.

In conclusion, Orono, MN is a city that offers a diverse range of activities and events, making it the perfect destination for a day trip or weekend getaway. Whether you're interested in art, history, nature, or sports, there is something for everyone in this city. So why wait? Plan your visit today and experience the best of Orono, MN!

[loetise]

character interview.  ˎˊ˗

what they smell like? always flowers, both because of the time she spends in the garden, her magic, and the products she uses are herbal/floral scent. it's also likely your muse will smell flowers wherever she's been, especially if she spends a lot of frequent time there. she wears a little perfume, but even when it is, it’s floral and fruity. she just really likes how flowers smell. but she doesn’t like heavy scents, they bother her nose.

how they sleep? she tries her best to sleep as little as she can, because she doesn't want to have nightmares, so she's usually exhausted enough to sleep well and long. her nightmares disrupt her sleeping, and she has them frequently when she sleeps alone. allie sleeps deep enough to be comfortable and not startled by something outside or quiet, but when someone is purposely waking her, it does not take much to wake her.

what music they enjoy? any music! probably upbeat and pop music the most, but she's not a real music girlie, she enjoys anything her loved ones enjoy. or can find something to enjoy about it. very loud music has a tendency to bother her ears, especially when inside a small closed space (car, room). however, at a concert or a club, it doesn't bother her. it's also just like, the environment. she's less likely to get overwhelmed by overstimulation at something like a club or a concert or a party because at that point she's seeking sensory overstimulation.

how much time they spend in the morning getting ready? allie takes time to get ready but not a lot. maybe a half hour if that, it's her kind of self care time but it's not lengthy. she's largely low maintenance and she'll be okay if she doesn't do her little things in the morning but. she does have some little things she likes to do to get ready. so she spends a little bit of time to get ready but it's negotiable and not always the same. if she gets distracted by sparkly makeup and fun colors (which she has been known to do) then it's a little more, a little less if she's just feeling simple. allie is also not immune to getting distracted in any regard, and she frequently gets lost talking to her animal friends that visit her in the morning, or talking to her plants. but, for the sake of the question, her '''''routine''''' (loose word because she really doesn't have routines, she's very spontaneous) doesn't take more than a half hour.

favorite thing to collect. plants :) she has a lot of weird Stuff and little things of all the varieties, but the thing she has the most of that one thing is plants. she has a crazy amount of plants in the house, there is not one space in the house that isn't nearly piled with plants. in addition, she has a garden full of them, with plants both magical and normal, from local environments and places far away. the magic in the garden keeps them alive for longer periods of time than they should, especially those that haven't been known to thrive in the climate that allie lives in, and still are healthy despite that. her garden has existed and remained since before allie was born, and she doesn't know exactly how much longer before that, but she can feel how old the plants are and how wise. her mother is part of her attachment to the garden, besides her love for the plants that live there. allie believes that her mother wouldn't be able to find her way back home without it.

left or right handed? left.

favorite sport. she did cheerleading in high school and adored it, but beyond that, she doesn't have a distinct interest in any sports. however, if someone she knew and loved was involved with a sport she would immediately become enthralled with it to support them &lt;33

favorite touristy thing to do while traveling? she kind of acts like a tourist everywhere. she's really good at getting lost, being in awe and so so excited over everything, and taking pictures. however, the least typical touristy thing she does while traveling is that she knows to respect nature, but she's still just as interested in it as she usually is and will spend a lot of time oohing and ahing over the simplest thing.

favorite kind of weather. she adores when it's sunny and bright outside, even when it's hot, but she also loves rain in any capacity. she used to have a fear of thunderstorms, but now it only bothers her when she's having an already tough time or especially scared. allie loved playing and dancing in rain and thunderstorms as well and often experiences a sudden burst of energy because of how the plants feel being hydrated. also also she loves to see the worms come out to play.

weird/obscure fear they have. if the large bodies of water thing is not obscure, nothing. she really isn't scared of anything that doesn't have to do with (or lead to) people being mad or upset with her or being alone.

the one carnival/arcade game they always win without fail. getting people to win her stuffed animals :).

what do your muse’s hands feel like?  soft and warm! holding hands with her is like a hug. for your hands. she's actually warm all over, not necessarily to a point that it's a discomfort for her, but she can and will warm you up if you hug her or let her hug you. she cannot play with slime for this reason because it melts and gets sticky on her hands and it breaks her little heart. 

what does your muse usually eat in a day?  .... not enough. allie has disordered eating and is not good at feeding herself when she's alone. she's an amazing cook and is capable, but it slips her mind frequently. she'll eat if she has visitors or is going to visit someone, because she loves cooking for people, and then there's also like set times to eat that she knows about.

does your muse have a good singing voice?  yes, not in a way that a professional singer or performer might sound, but she has the perfect soft, high toned kind of voice for lullabies. because of her fae magic, her voice is also unintentionally enchanting when she sings. do not be surprised if she sings to you and leads you into the forest successfully that you had no idea or want to enter :) sozz she does not mean any harm she just wants to show you all of the things &lt;33

does your muse have any bad habits or nervous tics?  the drinking, sex, and drugs as coping mechanisms are pretty bad habits of hers, as well as her tendency to not take care of herself and not make decisions that are best for her, putting everyone else's needs, wants, and opinions before her and her's. anyway. what i think this question was Actually for. yes, sometimes she'll dig her nails into her in an effort to keep herself from fidgeting, so much so that she squeezes and ends up hurting herself to keep still to a point that she thinks will ground her. she is also very much a fidgeter and has a hard time keeping still for anything.

what does your muse usually look like/wear?  she likes to look pretty, and often achieves the look in a sort of natural/effortless way, or even glowy? (she’s always has some sort of sparkle on her, but more than that) even though she likes to look nice, it’s more so ‘pretty’ nice instead of ‘clean’ nice, because she has a tendency to look unkempt, sticks and leaves in her hair, dirt on her cheeks, that sort of thing. she’s not filthy, but she often doesn’t notice if she’s a little bit untidy or messy.

is your muse affectionate? how much? how so?  very very very much so. everything she does is filled with affection. she is always telling others how much she loves them and everything she loves about them, just as easy as she breathes. it doesn't matter how much affection she receives back, she will continue acting the same to your muse. while it could also be seen as love-bombing, i think it's pretty easy to tell that she's being genuine? she's so very earnest, i think most people can see it in her eyes and her intentions very clearly. 

what position does your muse sleep in?  tiny and curled up on her side when alone :( sad cardboard box kitty :( when she's with someone, she'd honestly rather face the other person and hold each other than spoon, but she's more than happy to big spoon, she just doesn't like to face away from her partners or her platonic sleepy buddy. she loves loves loves cuddles of any capacity though so if the other person truly wants to spoon her she's down. 

could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?  maybe? it depends. like walking, probably not she has soft, light little footsteps idk but if she's talking to someone you will likely hear her laughter and her voice. 

tagged by;   @apricotheart, @songeurame​​​​​​​​​​  ♡♡ tagging;   you, steal this and say i tagged you!

[learningnewways]

Down Time

Over the last few days, the Destiny Rescue team have been away in Thailand at a conference, meaning we had a few days to ourselves to explore the city.

Q and I are both high achieving personalities who like to be busy, so when we realised we had a few days without the team and therefore without any work, we were frustrated. We didn’t know when we booked our flights that they were heading away, so of course lines like, “I paid x amount of money to be here to serve and learn, not to be a tourist!” went around in my head. Sure, a holiday is nice, but that’s not why I came here at all. But alas... The team was gone and we had no option, so we tried to enjoy it and learn more about their city and culture.

We spent a lot of time wandering the streets, eating out, finding markets and food stalls, and just generally exploring. As a foreigner, everywhere you go, people are calling out to you, “Lady, you wanna buy something?” “You come see my shop, I give you nice price...” “You want TukTuk?” In the markets, it seems like every shop sells the same things, so it’s hard to know who to buy from. I went into a few stalls and had a look around, ending up buying things I didn’t need... There were two times I was buying things and the ladies selling clothes said they hadn’t had any customers yet, that I’d be their first sale of the day. Of course that makes you want to buy because you feel sorry for them! But it’s hard to know if it’s true or not. It could be genuinely true, or it could be a sale tactic to pull on the foreigners heart strings. The further into the market you go, the more believable it is. On the street front, I think they would get many customers, whereas deep inside the market maze, I wonder how many people actually buy things.

Generally the people here are super kind and friendly, which is nice. I always chat with the hotel staff who know me by name. Q says I’m their favourite and he’s probably not wrong! I can’t imagine many people would take the time to get to know the hotel staff. But then most guests only stay for around three nights and we’re here for three weeks! So much more time to build relationships. I’m sure they’re confused as to why we’re here for so long and what we are doing. I ask them about their lives and make little jokes with them which they love. Whenever I walk past they say, “Hello Kimberly,” but they don’t say hello to Q, which I think is funny. They say hello, they just don’t call him by name, and I doubt they know many other hotel guests names. You get out what you put in I guess!

One day we found a line of street food stalls and got chatting to the lady who runs one. She was so lovely! I asked her about her business, lifestyle and family. She works very hard, working long hours and barely having time for her children, but she works hard to provide for them. She makes more money doing her own business than being employed my someone else, which she likes, as well as the independence and flexibility. Another day we went to a local cooking class which was so much fun. I love doing cooking classes overseas as you get to meet more people, you’re supporting local business, learning about their culture and food, and of course, you get to eat delicious goods! It was a bit of a drive out of the city, so it was nice to see the countryside too.

On Sunday we went to ICF church, which is a campus or church plant from the ICF movement, which started in Switzerland. It’s funded from Swiss donors and you can deeeefinitely tell! Swiss money goes a lot further overseas, particularly in poor places like this. Their facilities are next level crazy impressive. The main structure has a massive steel roof at about 15 metres high, 30 metres wide by 60 metres long, it is crazy big. The building is half open on all sides and half closed off. The closed off part is where they have church and when you walk in you feel like you’re in an American church with lights, cameras, smoke machines...etc. Their evening adults service was in both Cambodian and English, with the pastor being from Switzerland. Then the other more open part of the building is used for eating meals after the service, and even has... Wait for it... Q’s favourite part... A rock climbing wall! It was epic! And that’s just the main building, then they have offices, classrooms, football fields, a ninja warrior course over a man made lake... The list goes on.

Right across the road from the church is the ICF Wake Park, which again is hard to explain. Honestly, just Google or YouTube it. It’s nuts! It is so impressive and crazy and would’ve cost so much money to set up. It has a restaurant and man made beach section, as well as the actual wake park. Jaw dropping, that’s for sure. ICF only planted the church ten years ago and they’ve accomplished so much. It is truely inspiring. Seeing all that ICF did gave me heaps of ideas for The Gambia, and made me realise you can do almost anything if you have heaps of funding. Then I remembered I have no funding... Haha. So back to the drawing board! We got chatting to a staff member after the service and she invited us to come back sometime for a tour of the property and to hear more about what they do, which we are pumped for!

During our downtime, in the evenings we visited the city’s Pub Street, where there are lots of restaurants, loud music, and of course, pubs! It’s where most foreigners go to party the night away, however there is a much sinister side to it. A lot of girls sell themselves or are forced to sell themselves to men in the pubs. It looks different for every pub and every girl, depending on their age and the situation of course. But we saw a lot of “bar girls” as they call them, who wait in the pubs and flirt with the men before taking them out back or the men taking them away. From what we could see they were mainly women, but I know there are underage girls there as well, probably more hidden from view. They also have countless massage places, which also act as brothels essentially. They look just like massage parlours out front, but out back they offer more than just massages, and with younger girls too.

Overall it has been a great few days, but even still, my personality just wants to be out doing something worthwhile. I want to help the bar girls, not just walk past where they work. Of course being here for a few short weeks, I can’t “do” all that much to help, but I can shadow the team and learn a lot from them. It’s frustrating to come all this way and get straight into it, then be stalled for a few days. I just want to make the most of every opportunity, learn, information gather and support wherever I can. Not be a tourist. I wonder what God is trying to teach me... I mean, I’ve still learnt a lot from just chatting with locals, and definitely ICF got me excited. But I am looking forward to being back with the team tomorrow, for whatever they’re doing!