#when i first get paid there’s a strong change i’ll spend it on broad city. it’s the least i deserve

[priestfrommidnightmass]

i need to finally buy broad city on dvd like i’ve been meaning to for ages because watching it on hulu with ads is so agonizing . i need to consume it the way god intended (with an entire season at once on dvds you preferably got from the library.)

[messwriting]

Written for The Smut Pile Collab: Mafia AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

SCARRED HANDS

Iwaizumi Hajime (Older) x Female Reader

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Warnings:  Mafia AU related plot, including drugs. gun traffic and homicide. Violence. SERIOUS TALK ABOUT GAMBLING, ADDICTION, DEBT AND FAMILY ISSUES/FORGIVENESS. Hajime is older, about early forties while Reader is in her twenties, so: Age gap.  Slow-burn (I think?). Presence of an OC named Rei in a side-ship with Mattsun. In this first part there’s no smut.

Part One | Part Two (soon) Word count: 7.5k

Note: This is my second contribution to The Smut Pile Collab, hosted by the lovelies @present-mel​, @pleasantanathema​ and @linestrider​. Thank you so much Claudia, @thisisthehardestthing​​​, for beta-ing this and all your amazing comments who have made me scream so much i’m pretty sure my neighbors are wary for my sanity. There’s a side OC/Mattsun here that is my small gift to @mixedhell​​ for everything she has always done for me and for being such a great beta, friend and enabler. <3

I was trying to not break this in two parts, but as it seems my brain keeps hellbent on putting more plot in this, it has become unavoidable. Uh, enjoy? This is my excuse of a fic to just love Iwaizumi at any and all given opportunity! Second part in the works but with no release date yet. <3

Iwaizumi never wanted this life. 

He thinks about it while cleaning his bloody knuckles with a wet cloth, taking care to surround the parts where the skin had broken, scars over scars to the point that he practically did not know what was old and what was recent. The pain didn't bother him anymore, a constant in his life to the point that he barely registered the new injuries. That was the life of the second-in-command of the Seijoh Mafia.

He lived a poor childhood, violent teenage years. At the time, he didn’t have much choice in resorting to crime. It was easy, even; he was good with his hands, fast and built broad and strong since he was young. When his only and best friend told him he wanted to be the Boss, he’d almost laughed before seeing that familiar glint in his friend's eyes – that pure, fierce determination Oikawa had been practically born with– and, void of a dream for himself, he pledged himself to that of his only family.

“Take him to the back,” Hajime tells his trusted duo, who watched over him and the man they’ve been working for the past hour. Matsukawa nods shortly and puts out the cigarette he was smoking, still in half, on the nearest surface, before addressing the bloody man tied to a chair.

“What are you going to do now?” Hanamaki asks from the entrance threshold, not looking at him but rather to the night sky above them outside the deposit in the outskirts of the town. His joint is ending, sweet smoke blowing out and swirling up. 

“I’ll tell Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says like it was obvious. “He’s gonna have to be more careful with his companies.”

Hanamaki snorts while smiling. “Not that he’ll listen.”

Hajime shrugs, throwing the blood-stained rag back without a care for where it’ll land. “That’s his problem.” Then he sighs, looking up at the smoke from Hanamaki’s joint swirling around the wind. “The mole is ours.”

--

Iwaizumi has a special place, if he could call it that. 

He discovered the owner had died with consternation, when he went to the place at his usual time and found it, for what was probably the first time in more than a decade, closed. The diner operated until the ignoble hours of the night, which is why, since Iwaizumi was still a soldier, he used to spend the last hours of his day or the early hours of his mornings there, in what he’d call his little break in between work; his moment of calm even on the most eventful nights of his violent life.

Since he had risen the ranks rather quickly, the habit had given way to certain care with the frequency in which he visited the place, although the time had little variation and was always after two in the morning. 

It was the moment when the night calmed down, the clubs and parties booming, the restaurants that opened at early hours already closed; the brave few passers-by running to their safe places on empty streets while the cars running through the streets lessened by the minute. This was the time when night-shift policemen were already tired of both the events of their shift and the long worked hours, nodding off in their cars.

The diner was on a street just a few blocks away from the heaviest area of ​​the city, where clubs and parties continued until the bright hours of the morning; the drug traffic in these places had been feeding the old mafia veins for decades, since before Iwaizumi, and he was certain he would meet his end way before it did. 

The place was small, nothing much, two big windows beyond the door showing the old, almost vintage interior, careless by the owner who never paid much attention to the decorative aspect of the place. Twenty years ago, when Iwaizumi went from being a simple associate to a soldier, just beginning his life as a man, the place was busier, almost famous - and even then the nights were always the quietest shift, the time where degenerates inherited the city.

Iwaizumi didn't know exactly what had disappointed him so much when he found out that old Lou had gone for the better. Lou wasn't even the old man’s real name - he just adopted it once the name of the diner -- Lou’s Diner -- ended up merging with his in the daily life of being the business owner. Iwaizumi was a constant presence in the place enough to know that Lou, in fact, was the name of the old man's wife, who had died young.

In fact, Iwaizumi spent the days following the discovery of the man’s passing trying to figure out where the place would end - Lou had never said anything about family, but there was always the possibility that the business had been pledged in warrant of some debt and if not, there was the bank. The old man wasn’t exactly what you’d call an exemplary business manager.

A surprise came again when Iwaizumi drove past the place during the day and for the first time in three weeks, there was movement inside the diner - and his first thought is theft. 

It wouldn’t be surprising, considering both the neighborhood and the fact that with the place closed three weeks before, every thug in the street knows that everything is still there.

Iwa sighs, then makes a u-turn so he can park close to the alley on the diner’s corner. He’s surprised, but he realizes it is, in fact, not the case. Unless the young woman holding a broom and looking around as she rolls up the sleeves of a loose oversized T-shirt over normal jeans shorts were, somehow, a phenomenal smuggler.

Against his better judgment, Iwaizumi gets out of his BMW and steps carefully onto the sidewalk, checking his surroundings with practiced ease. The glass doors of the diner are wide open, sidewalk wet and leaking soapy water into the street. Iwa crosses through it with little care, pausing for a moment while the oblivious girl inside keeps brushing away.

“Hello,” Iwaizumi salutes from the wide open doors, perhaps to also let the place breathe some air after the days closed. You startle, the broom in your hand flying to the floor with a loud crash. 

“Holy fuck!” you yelp, turning around with both hands in front of your body. “Are you trying to kill me, dude?” 

Iwaizumi almost chuckles, the corners of his lips turning up. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He takes his hands out of his pockets, showing them in front of his body as a sign of peace. And it isn’t like he can’t easily kill you and anyone you may have inside with just them.

“Oh god. My heart,” you murmur, clenching your shirt over your chest while sucking in a few breaths. Your eyes finally come up to his. “Sorry, I think I was just too distracted.”

Hajime nods. He isn’t a man to say sorry twice. “I was just passing by and noticed the diner open. It’s been closed for some weeks, so I was just checking.”

“Oh, sure.” Your mouth opens in a small ‘o’, and Iwaizumi is surprised at how it got his attention. Pretty lips on an even prettier face. “Yeah… I’m reopening it this week. I just need to fix some things around here.”

Iwaizumi gives you a once over. Discreetly. He leans against the doorframe, curiosity winning him over.  “So, you bought it?”

“What?” you laugh, hand coming to wipe the sweat from your brow. “No. I inherited it."

Iwaizumi assumes that he was unable to hide his surprise by the way your lips move to form an amused smile.

“Ha, yes, most people have the same reaction as you.” You bend to grab the broom in the ground and Iwaizumi’s eyes tread for a second too long along the spanse of your body while you’re not looking. “Which is funny, and also tells a whole tale about the old man.”

“I suppose it does,” Iwaizumi nods once while speaking.

He looks over the place, sees the few changes being done; the paint cans on the ground, the boxes by the corner, the shelfs being replaced and the new color of the upholstered sofas. You in the middle of it all -- the new and the old. 

“I’ll leave you to your cleaning, then. It’s good to know the place isn’t closing.” 

Before you can say anything else, he’s already taking his leave. 

You turn around to thank him but Iwaizumi is already far down the sidewalk, not sparing a glance at you once his back is turned. Your head bends sideways almost involuntary, eyes threading the expanse of his broad back, clad in a beautiful light blue social shirt, rolled sleeves over bulging forearms, with black slacks and expensive looking shoes. While you hoped you didn’t stare before, now you are free to do so and wow, that is a beautiful male specimen if you ever saw one. 

Your first thought is that he didn’t belong in here -- the scenario of a beaten up street and a mildly abandoned diner, in the middle of the day on the foul part of the city. Then again, he looks rather at ease, familiarized, and it isn’t like you can know someone from just one look. 

If anything, a good looking man like that always comes with a catch.

“Hey,” your friend comes through the kitchen doors, looking pretty much like you, tired and sweaty after the morning deep cleaning. “What's going on here? I heard something but I was on the phone”

“Oh,” you say, then grin mischievously at her. “A hot piece of man just passed by asking about the diner.”

“No!” your friend almost cried, lips pressing together in a pout. “See! This is why I keep being single! I never get to see any hotties from the fucking kitchen.”

“Hey, not my fault you decided to be a cook.”

--

Iwaizumi tells himself he’s just checking on the place he likes.

It’s out of a weird misplaced sentimentality, he reasons. He’s been going there for years after all. He’s checking out the new owner, that’s it. The young woman who somehow inherited Lou’s bar. The pretty young woman who was redecorating and cleaning the place that probably didn’t get any love for the last fifteen years. And that’s what Iwaizumi is telling himself when he crosses the city at late hours of the night because the first thing he needs to know is if you’re stupid enough to actually open the place until the ungodly hours of mornings like the old man used to.

And, sure enough, you are. 

It’s past three in the morning when Iwaizumi parks on the other side of the street, but the regulars pour in like clockwork at the sight of the open diner -- old fellas, mostly, and some passersby who work at night. The whores, and the tired workers, all mingling the later it gets. Iwaizumi counts five clients, which is a busy night, and somehow he struggles to find security in your arrangement. 

It’s a weird feeling to have for someone -- worry -- and for all the constant preoccupation he has going on in his life with Oikawa, he’s sure he hasn't felt that particular brand of it in some time. 

For that same reason, Hajime turns around and leaves.

A week later and he’s back. 

This time it’s earlier in the night, just past midnight and the diner is empty save for three regulars he knows well enough. Iwaizumi hates to admit it, but he’s curious; Matsukawa told him that the place had been closing at four and reopening at eleven, with not exactly lots of clients, but with enough patrons to not be discouraged. 

But it was the fact that the man depicted the place as “nice” that got Iwaizumi interested.  Mattsun is not the kind to throw empty comments like those and there was a glint in this man's eyes that made him suspicious. If a small hint of jealousy sparks on Iwa’s chest, he says it’s for the place.

He signals for Makki to turn a curve so he can get off on the other side of the street and tells him to park somewhere out of sight. He doesn’t like to have the BMW close, working as a beacon; the fact Iwa already dares to have a routine place is trouble enough. 

“Bring me a coffee when you come back.” The strawberry blonde tells him while perching himself over the car window, driving off before Iwaizumi can give him a nasty stare. Iwa takes his time on the pavement directly across the diner, lighting a cigarette while moving to cross the street. 

The bell that rings when he crosses the door threshold surprises him for a moment, bringing the stares of everyone inside to him. Some of the old regulars nod his way, and Iwaizumi nods in return, a stiff greeting but one they grew used to in the years of sharing the space.

You look eager, eyebrows shooting up as if you’re not expecting to see him standing in the middle of the place like that. Then, your lips turn up into a smile and Iwaizumi almost misses the sentiment behind it. It’s been far too long since someone looks this pleased into seeing him anywhere. 

Well, with the exception of Oikawa. But that’s because he normally shows up to save the man’s stupid ass.

Iwaizumi walks over to his usual spot, in the back, by the window and sits on the newer looking red sofa. The scratched old table looks bright with new polishing. He notes the changes, appreciates them even: the cleaner looking designs despite the vintage diner ambience, the cream walls, the new smell of good food and well brewed coffee. 

The ground is clean for the first time in a few years, the glass windows and doors looking good and there’s an overall different air around the small place. It feels good. Iwaizumi isn’t used to it. You come close to him, no uniform but jeans and a loose white shirt with a black apron tied around your middle, a coffee pot in one hand and a cup in the other.

“Hello there. Good night -- or day, depending on how your life works.” Your smile is disconcerting. You signal with your head to the coffee. “Want some coffee?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“No worries.” You pour some for him and ask if he wants milk or cream, which he doesn’t. Iwaizumi likes his coffee black. “Can I bring the menu?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to say no. But he’s curious about what you’re doing with the place, so he nods. Again, you smile while nodding and leaving, and Iwaizumi is baffled by your disposition to be nice at this hour. The old mas was more of a fuck-it kinda person, so it’s a small whishplash to have actual service in here.

Before you leave, however, you turn back and smile at him in what Hajime can only define as playfully. 

“Glad you finally decided to come in and give us a shot.” Your eyes are bright with mirth, proud of yourself for being so observant, and in the late hours of night he feels charged. “I promise you it’s not so bad.”

Oh, Hajime thinks as his face feels slightly warm, a twitch on his fingertips while he looks at your pretty face. This can’t be good.

You wait a bit. Seeing as the whole movement inside the diner changes with the small addition of one man at the corner table. You realise people haven’t sat on that table during the late nights, even when Iwaizumi had yet to even enter the place before.

So, you brace yourself with all the courage you’ve been mustering, and pretend to offer him a refill of coffee while walking over. You’ve been conjuring up theories for him since you saw him the first time, perched on the doors while you were cleaning, and it didn’t help that you kept seeing his car passing around the place for some time before he finally decided to come to the diner.

“Are you an old regular or something?” you ask while refilling his cup with hot, freshly brewed coffee. You’d lie if anyone asked if you did a whole new coffee pot just to find an opening to talk to him.

“Why do you ask?” His eyes are always so deep, the musky green color seemingly pulling you in, black irises eating you up. Your pulse quickens but you hold his eyes on yours even as your face grows warm.

“It’s just that you’re always here.” The words tumble out of your mouth quickly as you deposit the coffee pot on the table, looking at him almost eagerly. “Most of my regulars seem to know you and leave you alone. So I thought that maybe, you know, you may come here for the old times sake.”

He holds your eyes with his for a moment, then looks down to the cup of coffee while he brings it to his lips. 

“I guess you could say that.” 

It feels like a period. Like he isn’t much for small talk, so you pat the apron in front of you, pick up the coffee pot from the table and nod while looking back to the counter to mask your disappointment with such a short conversation.

“Hmm, got’cha.”

“So, the old man was your father?” His voice picks up a tone higher and you turn with big eyes to him. He looks quiet, observant while he looks up at you and somehow, without nothing to hold on, you decide you want to talk to him some more.

“No, I never knew my dad. The stupid man was my grandpa.” 

“Hm,” Iwaizumi nods, his eyes still on you. For some reason you can’t stand the silence, so you keep talking.

“He’d left the business for me and if I'm honest things were not going great where I was so,” you shrug. “I thought about giving this a shot.”

“And your mom?” His eyes on yours make you feel pressured and also lacking, your mouth working before your mind can really think. “She’s been dead since I was a kid.”

He blinks, surprised, and when he speaks he sounds so genuine you smile, “sorry to hear that.” 

“No problem. It’s life, right?” you ask rhetorically, an unwavering smile on your face and bright eyes despite the forlorn subject. Hajime’s chest does something weird at the sight, eyes moving down to the coffee mug by his hands.

Is it? Hajime doesn’t know. But he also hasn't had parents or any kind of family besides Oikawa and the trouble duo, so he nods, murmuring agreement. You leave him alone for the rest of the night, but not without getting his name and introducing yourself; and you do it mostly because you’re still unsure about the man. He’s quiet, mostly keeps to himself while drinking his coffee and sometimes ordering something he never finishes, but other than that, he doesn’t do much. Which, despite that, doesn’t change the fact he sticks out like a sore thumb in the middle of the place. 

His clothes are expensive even if they’re simple; his watch and rings glints under the diner lights, catching attention; and his eyes are like two black gunbarrels pointed straight at you in a face with a jawline sharp enough to cut. 

He makes you feel slightly unnerved and a whole lot interested. 

 Hajime wonders, as he exits the dinner and walks the short distance to where Makki has parked the car, if he has enough reasons to be worried about you. He enters the back of the expensive black BMW, gives the annoying blonde his promised coffee and nods so he can start driving. Iwaizumi settles on the backseat and turns to look at Hanamaki, eyeing him through the rearview mirror.

“Makki.” 

“Yes, Boss.” The answer comes immediately.

“Is this place in anyone's rotation?” Makki’s eyes thread to the mirror to look Hajime back.

“Old Lou’s dinner?”

“Yes.”

Makki’s brows furrow in thought while he seems to think it over. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think so.” His eyes lock on Hajime’s figure through the rearview mirror and Iwa counts the seconds until he asks, since his curiosity always wins. ”Why?”

“Check it for me.”  It’s the end of conversation, and Makki knows. He nods.

“‘kay, Iwa.”

Iwaizumi’s thoughts are brewing, his brows furrowing deeply while he thinks over the whole exchange from earlier.

In a short conversation of a few minutes, you already unsuspectingly told him that you had no family left, no one to miss you if you’re gone. From that he can infer the easy things -- that you probably live alone, seeing as he’s never seen a boyfriend in the restaurant or calling you while you’re working the counter; that you must either live in your grandpa’s house or a small apartment if you’re trying to make more money by renting the old man’s place; that you probably leave alone after closing the dinner -- and he got all that by an easy small talk over coffee. 

Iwa’s lips turn sour while he turns to watch over the streets late at night, the dangerous things that lie in the dark. He ignores that he, himself, is one of them. 

Yes, maybe he should check on you.

--

Iwaizumi observes with a frown while Oikawa waltzes inside his penthouse with his new friend. The woman is, much like all of Oikawa’s partners, beautiful. Luxurious hair and curves, all wrapped in an equally expensive package the color of bright fucking red. Tonight things are less busy in the place, with Iwaizumi and the duo in the living room, while Kunimi keeps watch on the door from his position bended over the counter. Like with everything in his life, the man looks bored and done at the same time.

“I have to give it to him, he does have taste.” Hanamaki points it out unemotionally, his eyes threading along the lady of the moment hanging off Oikawa’s arm. Mattsun looks up from his phone in time to catch a look, his arched brow doing an appearance.

“Yeah, but that’s not new.”

“The idiot blows through women as you do with joints.” Iwaizumi scoffs, twirling his cup of whisky and enjoys the moment to sip his drink. “Which is stupid, both of you.”

“Couldn’t hear your criticism over the sound of you downing that whisky.” Hanamaki pipes in and Mattsun laughs but quickly retrieves himself back to his phone once Iwaizumi gives both of them a nasty glare. 

On the other side of the room, Oikawa parts ways with his company, probably telling the woman to go somewhere inside his apartment while he handles business. His companion’s normally don’t ask much about what he does -- the less they know, the less they lie.

While Iwaizumi does understand the appeal of having someone to warm his bed at night like that, it just seems ridiculous to parade them around as Oikawa does; as if they’re a walking vitrine of his power and money, clad in so many brilliants, Hajime wonders if Oikawa can even see them through the shine.

Iwaizumi sighs when Oikawa finally moves in their direction, crossing his leg over his thigh as he stretches his back against the chair backrest. He drinks the rest of the whisky in one go.

 “I see you already treated yourself to some beverage, Iwa-chan.”

The ridiculous nickname stuck, even after all these years, no matter how many glares and curses Hajime threw his way– and Oikawa has seen Hajime kill men before. Still, the brunette stays unwavering in his teasing -- and Iwa has made arrangements to make sure no one but him feels free to use that denomination.

“Good whisky ain’t making me nicer, shittykawa.” There’s also the fact Iwaizumi maintains his mockery with his friend, even as most of the Mob now call him Boss. He supposes it’s good to have few good childhood memories, if one can.

“At least it makes you less grumpy.” 

Iwaizumi wonders if people would believe him if he told them the Boss pokes his tongue out and flops on the sofa then again, Oikawa’s charm is in being unwavering himself. When Oikawa crosses his leg over his knee and blinks feral, focused eyes over Iwaizumi, it’s easy to see the beast that brought him into the position as the chief in command of the Seijoh Mafia. “So, what did you have to tell me that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“You’re being reckless,” Iwa starts, calm. “I’ve told you about being careful with your companion’s while I’m busy handling that subject.”

Oikawa pretends not to listen, falling back on his big chair without a care in the world. 

“She’s a friend!” His face turns smug, even while there’s a small whine in his voice. It’s a stark difference from the feral Oikawa Tooru that put fear in the hearts of every Mafia in the bordering neighborhoods where they acted and climbed the ranks so fast, he became the head of Seijoh mob while only closing in on his early thirties -- and that was ten years ago. Still, around Iwaizumi, Oikawa keeps being the same brat he ever was.

“You need to get laid, Iwa.” The brunette laughs a bit, pouring more whisky for both of them. “How long it’s been, huh? Two decades? That’s how long your frown has been etched onto your face.”

Makki and Mattsun try to hide their smiles, but it’s futile.

“Don’t worry about my love life.”

“Love life?” Now Oikawa laughs, hand smacking his knee in his amusement. “I’m talking fucking, Iwa. We don’t have time for love.”

“Another reason why you shouldn’t worry about what doesn’t pertain to you.”

“Ohh~” Iwaizumi hates that he saw the singsong coming, “such big words. Gosh, that must mean it’s been years without action down there.”

“Why the worry, Tooru?” Iwaizumi asks, voice turning deep, eyes threading over Oikawa’s face. That has happened -- and ended, but it didn’t mean the two men didn’t play around it sometimes.

“Is the sex you’ve been getting so bad, you’ve been worried about mine?” Iwa scoffs, drinks a full mouth of whisky and turns to look at Oikawa once again. 

“You look too old to be getting any action,” Oikawa mocks him, snickering behind his glass. “Look at those lines and wrinkles, oh gosh Iwa, we’re the same age, you’re making me look bad.”

“Shut up, trashykawa,” Iwaizumi grumbles. “I’m just going to tell you this time: fucking behave. I’m looking into the mole, but you need to watch your back.”

“I thought that was your job, though.”

“Makes it a bit fucking hard when you bring home a diferent friend every night. Babysitting a toddler would be easier than you.” Iwaizumi grumbles and scoffs, finishing his drink in one go. “I’m doing my job. Now listen to me so that I can do it well.”

Iwaizumi slams his glass on the wooden coffee table and stands, the sound loud but not enough to disturb the rest of the men around the place. Maddog does look at Iwaizumi as if thinking what’s the cause for his distress, but the man has learned long ago that Oikawa rattles on everyone's nerves at some point -- Iwa just happens to be ticked more than the rest, a consequence of being friends with the man, he assumes.

Iwa pats his slacks, re-doing the button on his suit and walks away, moving a hand in the air as a way to say goodbye to Oikawa. “Your friend is waiting for you.” 

Hanamaki and Matsukawa are behind him before he stops in front of the elevator doors, Kunimi not even looking up as the three of them leave. “Try not to be dead by the morning.”

“I’ll do my best~” Oikawa singsongs back, a carefree smile on his face. 

Mattsun is driving tonight and that means Hanamaki is speaking the whole time, going on about how the Karasuno Mob is growing, potentially able to slip between Seijoh and Shiratorizawa’s territory if they’re not careful. Iwaizumi listens, but doesn’t really offer anything to the discussion; he’s too caught up in his head, wondering about what he’s going to do with Oikawa and how he can flush out the mole as fast as possible until something catches his ear, every thought in his mind freezing at the mention of the diner neighborhood.

“What did you say?”

“Huh?” Makki stops, looking back through the seat. “Oh, some of ours have been talking about seeing Shiratorizawa around downtown territory.” Makki turns serious, and it happens so rarely that the moment his demeanor shifts, Iwaizumi actually grasps his worries by the simple difference in the air surrounding the blonde. “Johzenji too.”

Now, that’s worrisome. While Seijoh and Shiratorizawa have some shared business in downtown and somewhat of a truce on those places, Johzenji is way too far from its limits, crossing borders they know they should not. Iwaizumi catches sight of how his frown actually caves lines on his forehead and Oikawa’s snickers pops in his mind as if the male was right there, he scoffs but his look is serious.

They can’t leave it that way.

Hajime tells himself that the fact that your face pops in his mind and the thought of a territorial war a few blocks away from the Diner makes his hands constrict into fists, has nothing to do with how fast he decided he must handle it. 

But it gets a little less believable as he orders Matsukawa to keep an eye out on your street, like if it wasn’t clear that by your street -- he meant you.

--

You notice the man staying around.

Actually, you doubt anyone hasn’t noticed the tall man who likes to linger just a bit too much around your diner as if he’s your hired security guard or something. He’s taller than most people, broad and built enough for you to see it in the way his clothes cling to his form, and has this fixation with metal, because both his ears are pierced and his knuckles are always adorned with thick rings. He looks bad, and has a cigarette pending from his lips to crown the look. Which, of course, prompts half the women population who enjoy your diner to look. It probably doesn’t help that despite his aloof behavior he can be quite the charmer.

And you’re suspecting your cook and friend is falling for it.

“If you light that cigarette right now after I’ve just told you to leave and smoke outside, I swear to god I’ll use the fire extinguisher on you, Matsukawa-san.” You always chastise him out of the Dinner once he starts smoking, since Issei has no respect for the very big, very red “no smoking” sign you had to purchase just because of him. He grins at you from his high seat on the counter and lifts his hands in a sign of rendition.

“Okay, honey. I’ll drop it.” 

You eye him very sharply until his fingers finally close around his cigar and he takes it out the clasp of his lips. You watch until he pockets it again in his metal case. Then, you finally blink and nod, turning to enter inside your kitchen. You’ve made the mistake of trusting him before, letting him out of your sight once he signaled defeat when you reprimanded him, just to come out and find him smoking anyway. So, now, you take the extra precautions with him, reason why you open the door without warning to check on him, finding him calmly studying the menu. 

He eyes you and blinks, a big grin splitting his face. 

“I’ll behave,” he crosses a finger over his heart like a scout. ”Promise.” 

You snort, but turn around and enter the kitchen space, yelling at your friend the newest orders, to which she just yells back a fine.

You grab the done plates– buttermilk pancakes and swiss omelette with orange juice and black coffee– and push the door outside with your hip, while calmly balancing everything on your tray. 

It’s a quiet late-morning, most of the regulars have already left for work and you’re dealing with the unusual clients, just three if you count Mattsun.

Once you’re back at the counter, Matsukawa is signaling with the menu for you to come over. 

“So, what’s your order, Matsukawa-san?”

“First, I’d like you to drop the san, it makes me feels fucking old.” 

You tease him just the bit by giving him a pointed look with a very arched eyebrow. 

“Stop it,” he hisses at you, eyes narrowing. “Don’t you fuckin-”

“You are old,” you tell him, pleased with yourself when he hisses as if burned, making you sport a big smile while on it. He’s glaring at you. “See, this is how I feel when I catch you smoking once I tell you not to.”

His lopsided grin is a panty-dropper; too bad you’re thinking about how it would be if someone else grinned at you like that. “Valid.” 

The seconds tick by while you wait for Matsukawa to say his order but he just stares at you as if you’re slowly losing your mind. You sigh, resist the urge to facepalm but do press two fingers into the middle of your forehead in an upwards motion to help with the stress, to look at him again and smile. 

“Your order, Matsukawa-san?”

“Again with the -san? Let me make a deal with you. You call me Issei and I’ll never smoke inside again.”

You eye him suspiciously but ultimately decide it’s a nice deal. 

“Deal,” you say, while jutting your lips out to hide a smile, still looking for hints he may be lying. “And if I catch you smoking inside again I’ll start calling you Jiji.”

Issei’s eyes go large, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline until he coughs and sputters, “you wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

The stare-down goes for a few seconds until you end it by saying, “I’ll get your regular,” and turning around to leave.

“This isn’t over!”

“Yeah, yeah, just behave.”

Once you’re in the kitchen, the clattering and noises are loud.

“You should chill a bit before you end up completely mutilating the pans, Rei. Half my money is in your kitchen.”

She throws you a nasty glare from across all the other way by her stove, doing God knows what but whatever it is smells heavenly.

“Do you believe the gall of this idiot outside?”

“Yep,” you chirp, but you eye her closely while she continues. You know her enough to know what’ll happen next.

“He had the fucking nerve to say my food was too salty.”

“Uh,” Escapes your lips, but you narrow your eyes at her, taking in the redness of her face, the way she looks overheated and the gesticulating arms while she walks around using too much strength while opening and closing the kitchen cabinets.

“SALTY!” She hollers to the emptiness of her kitchen, which pretty much makes it echo through the walls. You’re half certain you can hear Matsukawa chuckling outside. You wait for it, by now you know it’s coming. “I’ll show him what the fuck being too salty means.” She keeps going, cranky and beating the pans with that bit too much strength so that the clanks and tinkling sound loud even to you. You wait just a little bit more. “That handsome motherfucker, I’ll fucking deck him with my frying pan!”

And there it is.

You snicker just the tiniest bit, and put the order for his regular. She snatches it from your hand and points a paring knife at you.

“Don’t you dare say anything.” She does look fairly threatening, but the thing is that you’ve been on the other side of that knife one too many times to care now.

“Hey, if you like insufferable assholes, who am I to judge?”

“Fuck you.”

--

The movement is slow tonight, the cold weather with a drizzle makes your regulars stay home and the streets stay empty. It’s just a bit past midnight and you already know you’re closing early. Iwaizumi has been seated at his usual spot for a good twenty minutes already and, much like every other night, he’s just doing nothing -- looking over the street, reading the paper, sometimes a book or daring to look at his phone. Rei is still moving around in the kitchen and there’s only one other person in the diner -- an old man eating his soup calmly on the whole other side.

You feel restless; your eyes keep darting to him as if waiting to be caught, definitely not being the subtle person you hope to be, nothing catches your attention when Iwaizumi sits calmly by the window reading the paper and sipping on fresh coffee. Your eyes thread through his broad shoulders, poorly hidden under the fitted black social button up, rolled sleeves showing big, veiny forearms leading to strong, broad hands that seem even bigger when they engulf the coffee mug.

Hajime wears one ring, thick, black and a matching watch that probably costs as much as this whole place. You don’t need to see it to know his dark grey slacks are fitted; you’ve caught sight of it when he entered and you think there’ll be hell on earth before you forget how perfectly it hugs his frame, how delicious his ass is and how his waist is marked, beautifully, by the black belt. You thank the gods that he had already disposed of his suit jacket, or you’d be unable to survive so long.

 You’re probably drooling, so you tear your eyes from him to make yourself a hot cup of coffee and hope that you can pretend the flustered feeling in your insides is from the steaming caffeine quickening your heart. However, seeing as your eyes drag slowly back to him, you think that’s a lost battle. 

You drink a bit, breathe some more and decide to say fuck it. You’re not risking anything -- if he doesn’t want to talk, he can just say so. So you wash your hands, shed your apron and pick your coffee mug back up while walking to him. Before you even tread more than two steps, his deep, hard green eyes are already looking at you. They’re so impenetrable and focused, you wonder if he looks long enough, will he see your mind?

The thought makes your face heat up and you swallow the saliva pooling on your mouth before speaking,“mind if I sit?”

He nods no, but still answers, “go ahead.”

You slide on the seat in front of him, and for a second you regret your choice. Up close and with nowhere else to look, he’s even bigger -- his frame engulfs anything past his shoulders, his eyes demanding the sole focus of yours and you give it to him. But there’s a thought in your mind that helps you fight back the urge to let yourself slide and drown in the pool of deep green.

“So, I've been meaning to ask,” you tread carefully, knowing it’s a minefield ahead. You’ve been alone in this world with just your grandpa for a long time, and he was no saint. You’re no stranger to the fact that his diner has always been in mob-controlled territory. You’ve seen him bullied into paying back gambling loans too many times to not know how a bad man looks, and still, here you are, body warming and trembling just by the sight of what must be the baddest of them all.  “Were you friends with my grandpa or something?”

Iwaizumi looks at you, blinks and then hums a question, slightly furrowed brows his only sign of confusion. “Hm?”

“It’s just that I’ve noticed… that you seem like you’ve been taking care of this place… of me.” You speak while your eyes keep darting between his face and down, a warm feeling seeping from your eyes that makes his brain slow down, too caught up in watching you until he realizes he walked into a tricky question.

Fuck. Think fast, Hajime. 

“We weren’t exactly friends. But he was a mean card player and he got a lot of money out of me.” Iwaizumi speaks fondly, which is probably the only thing indicating that he isn’t here for some wicked king of payback. You nod while your brows slide up.

“I’m sure you also took a lot of money from him.”

“If I was lucky,” he pauses, “I don’t like to bet. But it was nice to play against him, even without betting.”

“I’m surprised he wanted to play without betting.”

“Rare occasions.” Iwa muses with a small smile in the corner of his lips.

Iwaizumi looks at you again, that deep stare as if he’s trying to catch your soul intent. “What I mean with that is… He never talked about you. Or having a family, for that matter.”

“Well… it’s like you put it. He was a gambler. And before he got good, he was bad. We struggled a lot with his debt while I was growing up. Once I left the house and I was working and got into college... he called me, asking for money.  He knew I had a college fund -- small, but you know, enough to get by for a few years. I gave some of it to him and I told him that if he was going to call me for money, it’d be better if he didn’t call at all, so… our relationship was pretty strained this last few years.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to say. So he tests around something he hasn't used in a long time, “sorry.”

“It’s fine. I just couldn’t possibly deal with his debt on top of mine, you know. And it was his choice not to call me for other reasons, so.” You shrug your shoulders, eyes downcast for a moment. If Iwaizumi ever knew how to console someone, he’d forgotten it a long time ago, but he’ll swear on his gun and every god above that he wishes he was sensible enough now to offer any kind of words that can resemble solace. He doesn’t know what you find in his face that makes you do a funny face, nose wrinkling, while smiling.

“It’s ok, I don’t hate him, you know. I just... He’s dead and I can’t help but think these things are in the past. Which may be fucked up but I’ve made my choice not to go through life with these demons.”

Iwaizumi nods, solemn. He knows a thing or twelve about going through life with demons and he wishes that you didn’t have to bear this even for the smallest of seconds. It gnaws inside your being, and the places where their claws sink usually fester. But, he doesn’t even risk thinking about what it’d be like for him to live without them -- they’re the closest to penitence for a whole life of sin he’s ever gonna get.

Talking to Hajime makes hours fly by like minutes. 

He’s not very talkative himself, but he’s a great listener and he gives you fair, honest answers so you try to do the same. You ask him about the old man, what he’d been doing, and Hajime doesn’t even blink while saying that he kept gambling until his death; tells you how he’d been worried that the diner had been offered as collateral to some debt and would fall victim of your grandpa’s addiction even after his death. You tell him about life after college, how disheartening and anxious it was, how you’ve struggled without finding a job and hustled your way together with Rei. You tell him how you’ve felt good to win the Diner -- the new ideas and purpose, the excitement and how fun it was to think about life like this -- a business owner. 

The one thing Hajime doesn’t tell you about is his job, which you feel is answer enough; and when you ask him about the late nights at the Diner, his lips quirk up and your heart quickens, whole body warming at how he tells you the diner has a special place in his life and that he doesn’t likes to sleep, only crashing once the sun come out.

He stays with you as you bid Rei farewell and close the restaurant, walks you to his car and drives you to your house. His car doesn’t move until you make it safe inside and only when your face comes to the window, does it starts to move away.

-

[to be continued]

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (19)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Ahhh...Love. The most wonderful thing in the world for anyone. Being in love and loved by someone can make you grow wings... figuratively. Life seems more radiant, exciting, fun, enjoyable when you are in love. A bond is forged between you and the one you loved. This bond can become, at the end of each road, stronger or more fragile. This is what I will call: gold yarn and black yarn. The golden yarn represents a strong love, a love that has gone through all the trials and that has come out stronger and stronger. This yarn is unbreakable.

The black yarn on the other hand... Represents a broken love. A love that ends up cracking on all sides. A love in which arguments follow, which sometimes comes to the hands. A love that, despite the desperate attempts of one or the other, ends up broken permanently. And in the end, we separate, each one rebuilding his life. Sometimes you get there. But some can't stand it... and the consequences are irreversible.

But let's go back to the positive side! It is in a serene, cheerful mood that you got up this morning. After all, there's enough! You and Jed are dating now! last night was the best night of your life. Knowing that it’s reciprocal, and that, despite the arguments to come, he will support you when it’s necessary, makes you feel lighter, more soothed. It will all be very different compared to Alex... you promised yourself that.

You and Alex dated for two years. You’ve met him in high school, he was a little genius and a sportsman, while you were more linguistic and theatral. While the first year was pleasant and fulfilled, the second was a disaster. He cheated on you from the beginning with someone else, but he didn't want to tell you. The worst part is that for him, all this was normal, the other girl was prettier, more... generous in terms of her forms. While you were just a little girl in her eyes. It broke your heart and you kicked him in the ass.

“This is all he deserves for doing that to me. Bastard.” You said to yourself.

And you’re right. No one should play with feelings. No one. But Jed is different. You know that. He'll never let you down for another one. But... What if another woman tries to steal him from you? What if she used her charms to seduce him? And that it worked? You couldn't stand it; you couldn't bear the fact that you were still abandoned because of a hottie who only wants sex and nothing more.  

Don't start thinking about that! this is just the beginning of your relationship. You've got time. And knowing Jed, you think he won't be stupid enough to succumb to the charms of another.

“I’ll treat you like a queen. Do you prefer a boring life to that? Think carefully...He or I.”

The words of Ghostface came back to you. It's true that you like to have a life of risk. That you're willing to do crazy things. But you have your own business now. Maybe it's time to think about a more settled life. Quieter. And with Jed, you can't dream better. And then, Ghostface treating you like a queen? What a good joke. You imagine Ghostface bringing you a cup of tea... filled with sleeping pills. And once asleep.... he could do whatever he wants with you.

And then, if in the early days it would be "nice", Later it will be blows. insults. And in the end, he will force you to participate in his massacres. A life that would shame your parents if they were still alive. In a sense, and even if it's sad and mean to admit it, you're glad that your parents are no longer here, or that you don't live in the same city as your uncles and aunts. Who knows what Ghostface would have done? Kill them? Surely. To use them to blackmail you and never leave him? Also. And you don't even dare imagine if you had children with this lunatic. Explain to your child that his father is a murderer, but otherwise everything is fine. You're talking about a family life.

Today is your day off. Yes, technically you spent two days in the hospital because of a fool who had the good idea to attack you in broad daylight in front of everyone. Let's hope he enjoys his time in prison. So, in real life, you could have worked today. But you're not sure you'll have a lot of people. Melina isn't working today either. It's her day off. She sent you a message last night saying she would come by today to discuss it. So, she's going to hear the news from you. And knowing her she's going to bother that poor Jed, as soon as she gets back to work tomorrow.

“Melina is Melina. I don’t think that anybody can change her. But at least, it may be better that she is so. You never get bored with her. And then... I know that she will move away all those who want to separate us, knowing her temper.” you said to yourself, laughing.  

First thing to do...clean the apartment a bit. Because since you've been here and especially since your short stay in the hospital, you live with dust sheep. And if you personally don't care, to receive guests it's not very elegant. And after cleaning, a good shower is required. Then kitchen operation! Knowing that Melina will surely come to eat at your home, hurry to know how yesterday's evening went.  

You spend a good hour cleaning everything before you shower and you dress comfortably. That's when Melina knocked on the door. All excited she gave you a big hug, a little too tight for your liking. But she finally lets you go and both go into the living room. You serve her a glass of rosé, the only alcohol you have for the guests. While for you, a homemade orange juice is deserved.

“Then tell me! How did it go last night? How was he dressed? What did you eat?? Did you kiss? Are you together??” She asks, excited like a child waiting to receive his gift at Christmas.  

“Calm down, calm down. I'll tell you all about it. But stay quiet, you look like a little girl at Christmas or in an amusement park.” you respond laughing, seeing your friend's enthusiasm.

“Sorry! It's just that...when he told me that you have a dinner with him, I was so excited to know how it happened!”  

“Well... he was really cute. Very elegant, we had a good laugh. And we eaten very well. He had made everything from starter to dessert. And we explained and...”

“Aaaaaaand ?”

“We kissed. Twice. So, we can say that we are officially in a relationship.”

“I knew it, I knew it, i knew it! Oh (y/n) you don't know how happy I am for both of you! She answered so happy.

you can't help but laugh. She's really sweet. You both eat a small pasta salad, with surimi, piquillo's, and a little tuna followed by a strawberry pie. Melina had taken the cheese and bread; she was not the type to come to someone's house empty-handed. You talk about everything and nothing, laughing at jokes, innuendo and other stupid things like that. It was good for you. You needed it. Then the phone rang: Mr Parkson. There was a click in your head.

It's been a week. And you haven't even thought about inheritance. What are you going to tell him? To give you an extra week? impossible, he had told you: a week no more. He warned you that he'll be here in an hour to talk. Then he greeted you before hanging up and when Melina saw your face restless, her smile disappeared. No choice... you’re going to have to tell her, too.

“Somethings wrong?” she asks worried.

“It was Mr Parkson. He'll be here in an hour.”

“Your Banker? It must be important for him to come to your house.”

“Well...He’s not my banker.” you answered by going back to sit down.

You tell her everything in detail. The death of your parents, the fact that you are the only heiress, that you've pushed back, all this time, that fateful moment because you're still struggling to accept this... Melina had listened without saying anything, going from attention to emotion, very sad to know the reason why, you have family photos everywhere at home.

“Well...you lie. But that is clearly understandable. No one wants to tell that kind of thing. We would like to forget it or that it never happened. We always hope that it was a nightmare and that when we wake up, we see our loved ones or call them. But deep down... we know very well that it’s real. And so, this guy... is there to carry out their last will. But you're the only one? no other family member can touch it?” she said confused.

“No. I’m the only Heiress. But my uncles and aunts deserve their shares too. My parents bequeath their house to me, and the total of their life insurance. As well as a small pecul that they had set aside. And the jewels. But I don't want it. It would hurt me too much.” you respond sadly.

“I understand. But you should take it. And then give it to your uncles and aunts. Or ask him if he can do it. “

“Yeah...you’re right.”  

Melina changed the subject to make you smile, cheer you up. She's so adorable. She's the perfect best friend for you. And yet, you only know each other recently. After an hour, Mr. Parkson knocked on your door. You don't even wonder how he knew your address, he said it to you: when he has to find someone, he's looking for information. He greeted Melina and you explain to him that she knows about it and that so she can stay. He nodded and settled down to a chair coming out of his little briefcase the documents. you offered him a coffee which he accepted as well as a coffee for you and Melina.

“Right. I don't think I need to remind you why I'm here. I left you another week to think. Now I'm going to need an answer: yes, or no?” He said placing his glasses on his nose.  

“Yes. But I want to be clear: my uncles and aunts inherit on the one hand. Everything I want to keep from my parents... are their wedding rings. Plus, my mother's amethyst. Everything else, the house the money and everything else will go to my uncles and aunts. Do you understand that?”  

“...As you wish. But your parent’s life insurance goes obligatory to you. It will be paid into your bank account automatically. It will be up to you to withdraw the money and give it away or send it to your uncles and aunts if you wish. As for the rings... I've got them here.” He replied before taking out a small jewellery pouch where your parents' wedding rings and your mother's rings were.  

“I knew your parents well. They were great people and very good friends. They wanted you to give their wedding rings for your wedding day... and your mother absolutely wanted you to give her jewels. The amethysts is there, too. If you'd rather keep only this one and give the rest to your family, I will." He said a little smile on his face.

“Thanks a lot Mr... I appreciate it. Have... Have we found the murderer? Or at least, did we find clues to know his identity?” you ask.  

“Unfortunately, not miss. He vanished. And he may even be dead by now. I am afraid that unfortunately we never know the answer to this terrible question.” he responds.  

You sign the documents, to which he adds notes on your exchange, then got up, greeted you and Melina before leaving. He left you a copy of the documents and, as requested the desired rings. Then it was Melina's turn to leave after 2 hours of discussions to cheer you up. Again. She left you her phone number and you gave her yours, so you could communicate.  

You clean the table, do the dishes and sit on the couch, the rings on the coffee table. You take them gently in your hands, tears rising slightly in your eyes. From the beginning, they intended to give them to you on your wedding day... Day they will never attend now. the rest of the day was sullen. In the evening even more. All you wanted was for Jed to be there, to hug you right now. But the poor man already has a lot of work, it's better to let him rest for now.

He sent you a message to find out if everything was okay, and you answer him by lying so he wouldn't worry. The poor man replied that he had a lot of work to do between the two Ghostface murders, but with a little coffee, he was going to make it. He wished you good night hoping to see you again soon, and you did the same. You put your phone on the table before looking at the rings again, no longer holding back your tears. They hadn't done anything...

“Well, if I knew I would have brought a handkerchief. Unless you prefer a hug? I'm very good at comforting people you know... especially women.”

You look towards Ghostface which was leaning on the table making you this little hand sign so special of the character. he's the last person in the world you want to see right now.

“Are you really going to come to my house every night? You have no better thing to do like killing poor innocent people like the sick you are? Or am I doomed to support you for the rest of my life as you told me so well?” You said a little grumpy.

“But it's that we're a little cranky tonight... my poor darling, I sympathize with your sorrow.” he said, approaching you.

“You? have compassion??? You kill innocent people who have asked for nothing and you DARE to say that you have compassion for me???”

“hey calm down my angel. I’m maybe a psycho to you but I'm still a human. I know what it's like to lose those you love. Especially when they are killed without them being asked for anything. In those moments when you have the murderer in front of you, you want only one thing: to make him regret. But back to us. I see you've made your choice quickly. I wonder if he enjoyed your lips as much as I loved them. Definitely I think I would never understand women.”

“What does that have to do with you? I much prefer Jed than you!”

“Sweety; sweety, sweety... You don't realize how lucky you are. I keep you alive because I have a soft spot for you. I could have killed you, gutted you, dismembered you, made you the most beautiful of all my masterpieces.” He lay you down on the couch, blocking your arms and legs with all his weight, and through his mask, you can guess a demonic, unhealthy smile. He drew his face closer to yours, very close to your ear. “Compared to him, I can take you beyond the seventh heaven... You'd be happy every night.”

He freed one of his arms, holding yours with the remaining arm to raise his mask slightly at the level of the mouth. Then he lifted your t-shirt stripping you to the chest. Then he lowered his head to your belly button and threw a tongue at it. Little by little, he went up his tongue to your chest. He smiled as he felt your skin shivering at his touch, while you're holding out a single sound. With his free hand, he unbuttoned your jeans, just enough for his hand to attack your privacy. You bite your lips, holding you to moan at all costs. Don't give him what he wants. Or he'll benefit even more.

“Are you resisting? How cute. I like it even more. I don't like easy women. There is no pleasure.” He replied, pressing his finger against the sensitive point, causing you to startle a little.

He chuckled, passing his finger up and down on your intimacy, which eventually made you let go of a little moan. He continued for a few minutes before stopping and getting up, hiding the bottom of his face again, allowing you to get dressed. he recoiled, sneering, while you stare at him, ashamed and angry.

“I'm going to make you languish a little. That'll be your punishment. maybe it'll make you think. or maybe not. But in any case, I'm going to enjoy it. Remember that you belong to me.  On this... I wish you good night my sweet little star. Sweet dreams.”

Then he vanished like usual. you sighed, slightly annoyed by what had just happened. He's strong, very strong even. But at least you know he's lost people in his life. At least that is what he suggested. If that happens, it had nothing to do with him. But keep that in mind. That's a good clue. In the meantime, it's time for you to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, and you need all the rest you need.

Sleep well...

Little one.  

***

(And that’s it! I'm not too far from being able to pass my code exam! but I confess that driving does not enchant me too XD but hey it's always like that at first, right? If you have any questions, feel free! Oh, one last thing! I wouldn't normally be present from April 6 to 8. So, the current chapter at that time will come out a little later than expected! this will also be the case on April 16, 17 and 18! I apologize in advance I would do my best to advance them as far as possible! Good weekend everyone! See ya!)

[themangoyogurt]

Between 29th & Astoria: A Bad Habit Develops

Chapter 3

It was exactly 7:49 AM when you arrived at your desk. After your little outburst last night, you didn’t want to risk Mr. Ren having any excuse to have an aneurism over tardiness. You had just finished sorting and filing paperwork when the source of your troubles strolled into the office. The man hesitated for a moment at your desk before you looked up.

“Good morning, Mr. Ren.”

“Hello, PA...”

You instinctively cleared your throat, cutting the man off while timidly supplying your first and last name. Kylo tilted his head as an amused smile barely grazed his lips. You coughed once and quietly explained, “Please, sir. I would prefer if you called me by my name.”

Kylo nodded and slowly repeated the name, as if testing the way the letters tasted on his lips. He liked it. It suited you. He repeated it one more time before walking past you into his office.

Your morning continued with little fanfare as you made your way to personally drop off paperwork at various destinations. Seeing that whatever Kylo handled was confidential, he didn’t trust e-mailing anything. Walking over to Mitaka on the thirtieth floor, you held back a giggle at the memory of Rose slurring her own theories about Ren during a rare night out.

”You know, if he wasn’t rich and handsome, he’d probably be one of those weirdos who believes in space people spying on humans or whatever. Who doesn’t trust the internal communication system of their own company? Maybe if you made him a tinfoil hat, you’ll get on his good side.”

You had your own theory - the man just liked making you suffer. After all, what better way to plague your assistant than make her traverse multiple floors in stilettos? Giving the dark-haired assistant of Hux a polite nod, you dropped a folder off at his desk. Next, you marched over to Phasma with some personal paperwork regarding payroll. You were in the middle updating the woman on your progress when your phone aggressively buzzed.

Kylo Ren | 11:18 AM | Where are you?

Kylo Ren | 11:19 AM | I want you in my office NOW.

“Shit!” You spat. It wasn’t exactly professional to curse in front of your HR rep, but something about Phasma’s straightforward and tough demeanor hinted that she wasn’t bothered by it. She rolled her eyes and dismissed you with a wave of a hand.

Sprinting back to your desk, you noticed that Kylo’s doors were ajar. Darkness roved back and forth across the glazed window indicating that Mr. Ren was pacing back and forth. The sound of muffled shouting was interrupted once in a while with the smash of an object being broken.

Normally you’d wait outside for one of his episodes to clear, but he had indicated that you were to appear as quickly as possible. Gingerly leaning against the door, you pressed it open to step into the private office. Ren ignored your presence as he continued to shout into the phone.

“I don’t care if it’s a national holiday in France. If those projections are not in my inbox by the time I’m finished with lunch, I will personally see that your firm is dismantled piece by piece. I swear I’ll take the clothes off your fucking back!”

He angrily tapped his phone before flinging the device against the wall. You had never seen the man so upset. At least not this closely. His shoulders heaved with each labored breath as he stared into space without moving. Various office supplies laid scattered and destroyed around his feet, and you cringed thinking that you’d have to pick everything up once he was out of the room.

Suddenly, Kylo snapped back to the present. Snatching his blazer from the back of his leather chair, the man stalked towards the elevator. Stopping just as he passed through the door, he bellowed, “You. You’re coming with me.” A squeak escaped your lips as you scurried towards the angry man just as he entered the elevator.

With aggression rolling off of Kylo, you were surprised that the man didn’t just rip doors off their hinges as he stomped through the lobby and out onto the street. He paced for a moment, clearly attempting to level his mood now that he was in public.

“Take me somewhere pedestrian.”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you deaf?”

You frowned at his attitude, but bit back a retort of your own. Kylo sighed and explained, “I want to eat lunch somewhere I won’t run into a business associate. After the conversation I just had, I’m going to lose it if I have to put on airs with some infuriating Wall Street shmuck. And if I stay in the office I run the risk of having to deal with Hux’s superiority complex.”

You swallowed the desire to point out that it sounded like Kylo was describing himself. Instead, you nodded and motioned for him to follow. A few blocks later, and you were sliding into a booth at the back of a nondescript pizza parlor. Kylo silently paid for the meal, and then settled in across from you with two cups of Coke in his large palms.

Shit. Shit. Shit. You were about to spend the most time alone with your boss since starting the job.

It seemed as if a similar train of thought crossed Ren’s mind as he awkwardly looked anywhere but you. He had shucked off his blazer and was now idly rolling up his sleeves. For someone who never left the office, he had a surprisingly strong build. Tracing the veins up his forearms, your eyes rested at his broad chest.

“So, how does a little mouse such as yourself end up working for the First Order?”

Kylo smirked as you choked on nothing. Flattening your palms against your skirt, you replied, “I have bills to pay.”

The man snorted and placed an elbow on the table before resting his cheek against his palm. You had never seen him so relaxed.

“Normally Phasma sends me more capable assistants. Tough individuals who can stomach dealing with the business of war. I was surprised when she sent me someone so mild.”

Your palms closed into fists. Sure, you weren’t a wise-cracking career climbing type of gal. But in your eyes that didn’t make you weak. It just meant you operated under a specific decibel. As politely as one could seethe, you responded, “Sir, I may be ‘mild’, but that doesn’t make me incapable of performing my duties. I am still here after two months.”

His head tilted the other direction as he stared you down. A slight blush bloomed across your face and Kylo smiled.

“I guess I keep you around for the humanity.”

Before you could ask the man to elaborate, a teenaged boy interrupted by setting a large pizza down. The smell of pepperoni and cheese wafted into the air, and instantly everything seemed like it would be okay. Kylo motioned for you to serve yourself first, and watched in amusement as you rapidly dug into the meal before he began eating. The two of you ate in relative silence before Kylo ventured with another question.

“What was your major in college?”

You swallowed a mouthful of carbohydrates and reached for your drink to buy some time before replying, “Photography.”

“Then why aren’t you a photographer?”

Sheesh, for someone who manages a billion dollar company, he wasn’t exactly good at making small talk was he? You considered the man in front of you. Prior to the interview you had done your due diligence and researched as much as you could. It was an easy task - the man came from a high profile family and generations of wealth and success. You were pretty sure he changed his name to “Kylo Ren” just to be a dick to his parents.

“Photography doesn’t pay the bills when you have a mountain of debt.”

“No family to help?”

You scoffed. Of course Kylo Ren, heir to the Organa-Solo fortune, would assume that you could just ask your parents for help. You wiped a hand on a napkin and flatly answered, “I am no longer on speaking terms with my family.”

He looked to be deep in thought as he mulled over your words. How did things get so personal so quickly? Something about Kylo completely disarmed you. Any more time alone with the man and you were at risk of spilling embarrassing stories about puberty. His jaw clenched for moment before he softly replied, “I understand.”

His softened eyes took you by surprise. Catching himself in the moment, Kylo abruptly stood from his seat and barked for you to return to the office. He sharply mentioned being late for a meeting before flying into a cab and disappearing down the street. You stood in awe for a moment, unsure of what exactly transpired over lunch.

A playful thought danced through your mind as you walked back to the office. You’d show Mr. Ren that you were no little mouse, and that you certainly weren’t scared of the man.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. 

Kylo was exhausted. He hated face-to-face meetings. All of the pomp and circumstance. The peacocking and the flattery. Regardless how how much money he raked in with each secured account, he still left every meeting with a hollow feeling. For a while, seeking the physical pleasures New York City offered was enough to numb the loneliness.

Like a drug though, each shiny new toy, expensive meal, or flighty model he bedded only left the ache growing worse and worse. Just as he was reaching the end of his rope, a new doe-eyed assistant stepped into his life.

From the get-go, your naiveté and subtleness caught him off guard. He was used to those around him scrambling to please and use Kylo Ren, CEO of First Order Enterprises. But there you were, stumbling along behind him every step of the way. It was your earnestness caught the man off guard.

His curiosity began with a single look. You happened to be by his desk during one of his famous outbursts. A deal went south, and along with it millions of dollars and hours of work wasted. As he threw a stapler across the room, he was taken aback by your expression - sadness. It wasn’t fear. He knew fear, and the way your lips turned downwards wasn’t it. You were genuinely sad for the man. Empathizing with his frustration and disappointment.

Ren continued to prod and harass you in an attempt to elicit more emotions from your soft features. He’d watch in amusement as each feeling was clearly displayed front and center. You weren’t very good at hiding your thoughts. At least not in the way your brows would furrow or the way your pretty red lips twitched.

He continued his relentless assault until finally, finally, you stood up for yourself. And that was the best reaction he had ever witnessed from your placid demeanor. The way you deliciously defended yourself was like a dessert on its own.

Kylo couldn’t explain it, but you were such an oddity in his life. A curiosity he itched to unravel piece by piece. He checked his Patek Philippe watch as he returned to First Order and rode the elevator back up to the forty-fifth floor. It was six now, and with his absence in the office you were probably jumping at the chance to escape on time for once.

Just as the doors slid open, he was met with your delicate laughter. Kylo froze momentarily as he took in the sight before him. You had switched into a pair of beaten in black Converse hightops, and your typical office attire had been changed for a breezy white off-shoulder dress speckled with lace. Was your hair always this long? Kylo only noticed the length as your locks curled around your shoulders, wavy from being in a bun all day.

“I know Rose! I can’t believe my luck either. I’ll finally get to see Finn perform and meet the cast afterwards! Do you think Poe is out of the...oh shit, mybossisheregimmeasecond!”

You squeaked out the ending of your sentence as Kylo stepped off the elevator and stopped directly in front of you. His calendar indicated that he had no more meetings, and you assumed that the man would just go home afterwards. What kind of lunatic would willingly return to the office if there was nothing else on the agenda?

Feeling totally underdressed with Kylo scrutinizing your appearance, you awkwardly tucked a stray curl behind your ear. You stuttered, “Hello, sir. Uhm, I thought that you wouldn’t be returning to the office. Uhm, I can...is there...”

Kylo cut you off with a wave of his hand. He murmured, “It’s alright. Go enjoy your night.”

A huge smile spread across your face as you profusely thanked your boss before jumping into the elevator. Your unbridled happiness tugged a rare smile out of Ren as he shuffled back towards his desk as something deep inside of him craved to see that smile more often. Slowly loosening his tie, he unbuttoned the top of his dress shirt as he surveyed the night view. A bright pink box suddenly caught his attention, and he picked up the offending object from his table. Picking at the tag, he read:

”Something sweet always puts a smile on my face. I hope you day gets better!”

He chuckled and opened the package to reveal a slice of chocolate cake. He never did eat much dessert, but perhaps it was time to develop a new habit. Kylo could do with something sweet in his life.

[lady-asuka]

father-daugher day - Papa!Cor and Fem!OC (Anima) SFW

some Cor fluff ♥ (I had do re-upload it again sry..)

previous part: click here

next part: click here

word count: 2014

tagging: @themissimmortal @blindbae (because Papa!Cor ♥) @itshaejinju @fieryfantasy @zacklover24 @insomniacapples @crybabyporcelain @valkyrieofardyn @nykamito

The sun just rose - Anima was already awake and stared at the ceiling of Nyx' room. She looked at the poster above her, which her boyfriend had pinned up there. It was the first time she really noticed it because she was used to look at his peaceful sleeping face next to her – or to be cuddled up against him. Now she was alone in his bed – it didn't feel the same; it was lonely. Her heart felt heavy and she felt like she could break out in tears within the next few seconds – but her ringing smartphone pulled her sad mind back into reality. Anima stood up and walked over to the desk with the cork tile – where her phone was. As she looked at the display she saw that Cor was calling her.

“Ani? Where are you?  You are not at home. Are you fine?”, he asked almost worried as she picked up.

“Yes I am. I'm at Nyx' place. I'm sorry to cause you worry, father”, she answered almost a bit smiling because of his worries. He seemed to be home now – Ani remembered that he wanted to spend the day with her.

“Okay. Stay where you are. Tell me where you are and I will pick you up - then let’s spend the day together, okay?”, the stern man wanted to know. Cor still sounded a bit rushed and worried – but this caused Anima to feel better. She meant a lot to him; even if they hadn't spent so much time with each other during her whole life.

“Okay, I'll wait here. See you.”, Anima said and hung up. She stretched herself a bit before she made her way into Nyx' bathroom and got ready to go out with Cor. Ani guessed that no breakfast would be possible since the fridge in the kitchen was empty – it was almost a standard. A short time after the doorbell rung. Cor was already there; he hadn't wasted any time getting there. Come to think of it – it was the very first time that he was here at Nyx' place. She hoped that he wouldn't rush in and take a look around. It was tidy but a bit – well; not that luxurious after all. Anima didn't care about that; she was here for Nyx and not for his place after all. She opened the door, left the room and closed the front door again. As she looked to Cor he wore some casual clothes – black jeans and a black-grey shirt.

“Hey little one.”, Cor said with a soft smile and just took Anima into his strong arms. She was a bit surprised about this at first – but he barely had seen her the last days and she knew that he felt guilty for his absence. Ani smiled softly and just hugged her father too.

“Hey papa. What do you have in mind for today?”, she asked and looked at him. His stern blue eyes were so soft as he looked at her. Anima felt so much better now – she felt how important she was for him. She wasn't his real daughter but he didn't seem to care about that fact; he loved her like one.

“What about some brunch first? Then we see what comes to our minds, okay?”, he suggested and released her from his fatherly hug.

“Sounds great. Let's go.”, Anima said and made her way into the City of Insomnia with Cor. He went to a nice-looking place for some brunch with her – she recognized it because this was their favorite brunch restaurant. Anima caught a glimpse at Cor who yawned a bit as she sat down.

“You didn't sleep this night again, right?”, she asked him worried and Cor looked at her and smiled lovely.

“You know me, right? Don't worry, okay? I will be fine – as long as I'm able to spend time with you I'm doing great.”, he said honest and again – his words touched Anima's heart. She didn't even know why she deserved a father like that. Drautos really could learn some things from Cor – that's for sure. Both didn't waste any more time and got some food – both were hungry and hadn't even eaten breakfast this morning. They enjoyed each other’s company and were talking about many different things – everything to cheer Anima up and let her forget her sorrows; even only for a moment. Both were getting up after their brunch and walked through the city of Insomnia. It was a beautiful sunny day and the city was full of people – rushing to work or just enjoying their free time. They even passed by some shops and Anima took a glimpse at some clothes in there – she wanted to go shopping with Iris soon; this had to wait. Cor saw how his daughter looked at some of these clothes and let out a chuckle.

“Wanna head in and find something for you? I'll pay for you”, the Marshal said and laid an arm around his daughter’s shoulder.

“Are you serious? You want to go shopping with me? You always try to avoid this experience.”, she complained, but was very amused. She had only been out shopping with Iris or Monica but Cor – hell no the Marshal never wanted to go through such a shopping-hell. He wasn't the type for such things; even if he never had had such an experience with his daughter.

“Sure. Let's try. Monica told me that you're not that complicated about this shopping stuff.”, he said and went in with her - and Monica had been right. Anima looked around and just tried on things she thought to be to her taste. Cor just sat down and let her do – he just complained if Anima tried on something too short for his taste; she was his daughter and should dress properly. She was happy to have found some new clothes; trousers, shorts, shirts and even a bit underwear – without Cor around of course. This was something he didn't want to see; she was his child! The Marshall paid for Anima and she was very thankful for that – he was so generous to her.

“Thank you, father”, Ani said happily and kissed Cor on his cheek as he took the shopping bags for her. He just smiled at her and placed a kiss on her temple.

“No problem at all. To see you smiling again makes it worth it.”, he said and walked with her trough the city again. They stopped near a park in Insomnia were Cor bought them some ice cream and sat down in the soft grass inside of the park – the bags next to Cor. A clear sky, the sun slowly set and the temperature was still perfect. As Anima saw some happy couples around she thought about Nyx again. Slowly licking her ice her mind seemed to be absent – not unnoticed by the Marshal.

“He will come back soon. Don't worry, okay?”, he said, laid an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to himself – always careful not to drop any of the ice onto their clothes.

“Thank you. I really hope that you're right.”, she murmured and leaned her head onto his strong shoulder – slowly licking her ice. No more words needed there. The presence of each other was enough for Anima to feel better and Cor seemed to relax too. The Marshal didn't have that much free time – but he used all time he had for his precious daughter. He had to admit that he had been shocked when he had heard that Titus Drautos was Anima's real father; but he hoped that they would get along with each other like they did. Cor and Drautos had some problems with each other – most likely because they are a bit similar to each other. But he was surprised how the Captain of the Kingslglaive treated his precious Anima. Cor never had wanted any children in his past. He was always too busy working and he had always been fighting in some wars – but Ani had changed his life. Cor didn't lie – he was more than happy that he found her again after those 13 years. Hearing how she calls him 'Papa' made him so proud – he couldn't wish for a better heir.

A few hours passed by until both got up and left the park. They finally went home after such a perfect father-daughter day. They had talked about so many things and problems – it had been good for both. They bought some Chinese food to go as they went home and ate it together at the kitchen table – still talking about many things.  They even talked about Drautos and that Cor believed, that Ani should try to give him another chance. She didn't look happy about his suggestions; but she wanted to think about it. Anima got very tired since she had barely slept the last night and Cor didn't look that fit too, anymore.

“I'll take a shower and go to bed. Is that okay for you father?”, Ani asked and Cor just smiled and nodded at her. He must have been very tired if he didn't even answer her anymore. Anima giggled and jumped under the shower before she went to Cor again who was almost asleep on the couch.

“Good night papa.”, she said happily, hugged him and gave him a lovely kiss on his cheek. He just smiled and hugged his daughter tightly.

“Good night to you too.”, he replied and kissed her temple before he let her go. Anima smiled and went into her room – crawling into her bed and covering herself with her bed sheets. They were softer than Nyx' – but she still felt lonely in them. A few minutes later her door opened and Cor went in – his blanket in his left hand. He walked to Anima's bed and nodded shortly – she understood and moved aside with a smile in her face. Cor laid down next to his daughter, covered himself with his own blanked and looked directly at her.

“Come here.”, he said softly and reached out his left arm to her. Anima understood and didn't waste any seconds to fulfill his request. She moved closer to him until she snuggled her forehead onto his broad chest – his left arm around her and his right one under her head. They used to be like that when one of them didn't feel good. For instance Anima's very first time in Insomnia – when she got afraid and crawled into his bed. The last time they did so was when she had gotten to know the truth about her mother and now because of her sorrow about her boyfriend. Anima felt so safe in his arms – she loved her father.

“Thank you, papa. I love you.”, she whispered and closed her eyes as she felt how Cor slowly caressed her black hair. She loved these small things. That's what she had always wanted since she was a little child – a family. Cor was the one who gladly made her dream come true. He had saved her life once and she knew that he would always do the same again.

“No problem. I love you too and good night my beloved daughter”, he murmured and placed a small kiss on her head. Ani shred one small tear as she heard this and smiled happily. His heartbeat calmed her down and made her fall asleep very soon. Cor didn't fall asleep as fast as Anima – he preferred to watch her sleeping a bit. She looked peaceful and almost innocent and he swore to himself that he would protect her; whatever it costs.

[rainraincomethisway]

Do every other # starting from the first one and a random one of your choice for the ask post.

Thank you! I haven’t gotten asks for awhile. 

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?

About an hour ago, Ireland-Legally Blonde for auditions. :) 

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

This is a difficult one. I take pride in how hard I work, how I do many things to try to be the best I can be, how much I love, and how I want to be kind. Every time I take a step to being happy. When I choose to be happy, I think. Who can top happiness?

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

I would drop out of college, as sad as that sounds. I would try to get a job that paid well for a bit, just to save up and travel around with my husband. I would want to take him to DC to see Coline, Texas, England, my family, and so on. I would get life insurance, to leave money for him. I would get my family presents to remember me by. I would want to die happy and with the love of my life, though. I’d want to spend the rest of my time with people I love, but I would want to be with him,

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.

He’s about a foot taller than me, and broader shouldered, almost a hundred pounds heavier than me, and twenty years older. Despite these differences, he draws me in like a pryo to fire. His brown hair, lightened in the sun is a beautiful auburn. His beard is brown, auburn, some light orange, and a few white hairs. He has the most beautiful grayish blue eyes, that feel safe. I look into them and I don’t feel intimated, I feel loved. Eye contact always felt too strong for me, I would scatter my glances out, but I want to keep it with him. His nose is the cutest button on the planet, and I’m happy he lets me kiss it and bite it. His lips are soft pillows that fit perfectly against mine, and feel like home. So do his big strong arms, built up from athleticism and manual labor like chopping wood. they wrap around me, and I feel like I fit like a puzzle piece in his arms. His beautiful chest, I set my head on it and hear his heart beat and I can fall asleep, peacefully and escape the whirlwind of my thinking that plagues me regularly when my bed is empty. His hands, the way they slide up my back, and I don’t panic at all. It feels right. How they’re big, and I know that he could hurt someone, but they gently touch my cheeks to pull me into a kiss. His legs, strong and firm, that carry me when I’ve fallen asleep somewhere, lifting me up as he walks us to bed. His cute toes, his adorable feet, that he thinks resembles a neanderthals, but I think they are just my adorable husband’s feet. 

No one is like him. From the resilience in his soul, to the boldness of how he stands up for what he believes. How he wants to protect me, and care for me, take care of me and I let him. Simple stuff, like him making me breakfast or making me tea, I never would let someone do, but I let him and he’s happy. How we share the same witchy spirit, and love for people who need help. How he quizzes me on trees, can create a fire, easily, how he laughs is like music and I can’t help but smile when he does. The way he sees me,. I feel like he sees me. He holds my hand, and kisses me. He wouldn’t ever want to hurt me, and he wants to do right by me. He is my heart. I love him. I love the little snores he does, only for a little, in the middle of the night. The first time I ever laid down with him, he held my hand in his sleep. I moved a little, and he found my hand again. How he stands out in a crowd to me, how I can always spot him in a picture, even if it’s crowded, even when he was a little kid. I hear his voice, and I relax. I feel his touch, and my minds check out. When I’m upset, all I need is for him to hug me, and all of my emotions release and I feel free from the confinements that I’ve built for myself to stay strong. With him, I don’t always need to be a rock. I love that he laughs with me, and we dance around the kitchen. That I wrap my arms around him, and he doesn’t shrug me off. That when I’m doing dishes, he comes up behind me and kisses my neck. People look at him and think he’s intimidating, but I know he has a heart that is full of love, consideration, and care. He’s smart, and understanding, and he wants to learn about things. He lets me read to him, and he lets me give him foot massages. He’ll wear a football hat to amuse me, make me laugh. His deep affection for animals, how he treats things that will do nothing for him. He is the sweetest man on this planet. I could still go on for hours about him, I know it, but I’ll cut myself off. I love him.

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person?

A few nights ago. Distance sucks.

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them? 

Maybe. I find it easier to talk about my personal experiences if I feel like it will help them. And if I’ll never see them again? Sure, what do I have to lose.

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

Casey, you will always have my heart, and I will always love you, and I will always be your girl.

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally.

“I am not a broken girl. I’m a girl who refused to be broken.”

To me, I relate to this. I spent a few years wallowing in depression, suicidal thoughts, and so on. I was miserable. Eventually, I got to a point that I said to hell with people who were supposed to care about me. They weren’t there when I needed them, they didn’t want to be. So I decided to be my support, I decided to encourage me, and I decided to help myself and be happy. I taught myself to love me, to be kind, to be helpful because I didn’t want anyone to feel like I did. I advocate for people, and love. I am stronger. I refused to be broken.

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?

Pay off all of my college, buy Casey and I’s dream house, give money to our familes, donate to our camp, and save the rest.

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.

Dear Twelve Year Old Me,

I know you’re hurting. No one cares about you, it feels like that, and no one is helping you. You’re showing all the symptoms, but no one is paying attention. Can you believe me when I say that dying isn’t the answer? I know that’s all you think about, as morbid as that sounds. Your go to, is that. Honey, you’re only twelve. There’s so much to experience. You haven’t even met the love of your life yet, met the many amazing friends you’ll get, your beautiful nephew and little brother haven’t been born, you work hard, and people look up to you. You end up loving everyone and everything, life, yourself. I know you’re on the opposite side of the spectrum right now. 

But you know what?

Everything is going to be okay. You’re gonna be alright. 

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.

I wish I had more earrings, like two or three holes in my ears to make that beautiful contrast. I want tats so bad! I want one with Casey, and the rest to be natury and peaceful.

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.

“Don’t want to live as an untold story, want to go out in a blaze of glory” The Struts. I love this song, it makes me feel adventurous, and bold, to go out and get what I want. Live broad and follow my dreams, to make an impact on the world.

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.

-Christian bands

-more Christian bands

-Like A Storm

and I might get to go to a Panic at the Disco ONE!!!!! AHHHH. Excited.

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

I have a desk, my workspace is my bed though. It depends on what I’m doing. Drawing, I need space, same for writing. I need creative room to breathe. Homework, I do well with. Papers, I’m sprawled out everywhere.

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

Well, it was my love interest, but that cat came out of the bag. :) Now it’s all good and dandy. 

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

Casey (of course), Mckenzie, Dayna, Coline, Hal, Rachel. I’d want to go to a big city, unexplored before. Museums, tourist sites, dinners.

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.

Oooo, good one. I think my favorite is my doll costume, because I made so much of it myself.

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

Have sex with someone.

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.

Very much so in love. Can’t get them out of your head. Everything they do, even if it’s minuscule, is fantastic. Want to be near them, spend all of your time with them. Everything they say is fascinating, and sends wave of adoration throughout your soul as it resonates with yours. Their touch is like a warm fire, perfect, and electrifying, and right. They are absolute perfection. Their smile could make you stop in the street. You spend nights, awake, tossing and turning to determine their intentions, until one night, you realize . . . you’re in love with them. And I decided to wait however long I needed to be with him.

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

Mocha, really. Mocha frappe if it’s hot out. Casey and Dayna.