Tumgik
#but when reading the actual input it like... JUMPS all over the board when I tilt the stick? so moving it just the tiniest bit will like...
bb-8 · 3 years
Text
Tech Savvy
Pairing: Tech x female reader Summary:  You’re an ex-imperial who has a crush on Tech. He’s awkward about it. Until he’s not. Rating: Explicit (18+, minors DNI) Warnings/tags: crack treated seriously, smut, unprotected PIV, awkward flirting, oral sex, first kisses, accidental exhibitionism, lots of bad jokes, slight angst Word count: 5.4K Notes: It’s smutty crack treated seriously, guys. Read on AO3.
The planet you land on isn’t anything special. It’s a humid swamp world in the Outer Rim that offers enough seclusion for even the Empire’s Most Wanted to pass by unnoticed.
You, being the kind and selfless individual you are, decide to help with repairs while Clone Force 99 are on a supply run. It’s the first time the ship has made planet fall in weeks and everyone is a bit stir-crazy, jumping at the chance to stretch their legs. Prolonged time spent in hyperspace has that effect.
Before he left, you told Hunter that your status as an ex-Imperial put an unnecessary target on their back. You’re still wearing your Imperial uniform, after all, and you know for a fact that the Empire is not exactly merciful to deserters. Especially deserters that committed high treason. Like aiding Clone Force 99’s escape from an Imperial prison.
You definitely didn’t just jump at the chance to stay behind because Tech opted to. That would be ridiculous.
You feel your face heat at the thought.
(What? His goggles are cute.)
The truth is, there’s been something – a tension, as it were – between the two of you since you arrived on board. You know it, he knows it. You’ve been orbiting around each other for some weeks now, and this is the first time you’ve been alone –
“Can you spare a minute?” Tech calls out, pulling you away from your thoughts. You swivel in your chair and shift your attention to him, a bit surprised.
“I was beginning to think you didn’t realise I was on board,” you reply as you make your way to the cockpit where Tech is currently fiddling with some wires.
“You’re...very hard to miss,” Tech replies and your heart skips a beat. “The ship is far too small to miss another sentient being’s presence.”
“Right,” you mutter while taking a seat, trying not to sound too deflated. So maybe he didn’t feel that tension. “What do you need help with?”
“I am taking this opportunity to rewrite the ship’s central comm unit to be more covert when passing through areas with increased Imperial traffic. If I can update the ship’s communication infrastructure to resemble that of a first generation Imperial craft, then we will considerably reduce our chances of being identified. Which is why I am particularly glad you stayed behind today. Considering your, er, history.” He fiddles with a mess of wires in front of him, not once looking up.
“And here I was thinking you wanted me around because you enjoyed my company,” you playfully jab.
“There’s that, too,” Tech replies. “Though it would be advantageous if you could list all of the Imperial access codes you can remember. The computer and I can do some pattern recognition to better–,” he cut himself off and anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. “Apologies, you don’t need a long-winded explanation. If you’re happy to share, you can do so whenever you’re ready.”
You consider protesting and telling him that you find his rambling cute, but you decide not to dwell on it for his sake. You list the codes you remember from the Academy. You keep talking, relaying any tangential intel relating to access codes. If it’s irrelevant, Tech doesn’t stop you.
He is silent for a few moments analysing the data you’ve given him. You watch him closely, admiring the way his brow furrows and his lips purse while he’s concentrating.
“You trust me then?” you venture to say. You play with your hands in your lap. “Even though I was with the Empire?”
“You’re helping us now,” Tech replies, as if it’s obvious. He is still inputting data into the datapad he is holding when he continues, “You trust us, it would seem. And we were soldiers programmed upon our creation to destroy the Republic.”
You fumble over your next words.
“That’s – it’s entirely different.”
“And from my perspective, all that matters is where you are now,” he states with finality.
“Well,” you say shyly, “I like where I am.”
Tech smirks despite himself, briefly glancing up at you from his datapad.
You hold his gaze for a moment, before settling into a comfortable silence. You sit in next to him for several minutes, revelling in his closeness like a brezak basking under the Zygerrian sun. It’s only when you notice yourself blushing like a teenager that you decide to make yourself useful and actually help with repairs like you promised.
++++++++++++++++++++
“Would you mind holding this wire out of the way for me while I solder the capacitors for the localised memory bank?” Tech calls, breaking your concentration. The illumination device you were repairing could wait.
You have no idea what Tech means, if his string of words means anything, and you survey his makeshift workbench for a hint. Several panels are detached, limply dangling from a few brightly coloured wires. Tech is focusing his attention on a large panel that is plugged into a cylindrical storage device.
“Maker, that’s a big data stick,” you can’t help but mutter.
Tech makes an incoherent choking sound.
You do as requested and lean over his shoulder to take hold of the wire he specified between your thumb and forefinger. The fabric of your sleeves brushes against his shoulder armour and it feels as though there is a static shift in the air, like the air around you is alive and humming.
And Tech gulps with the contact. He types a few sets of numbers into his datapad with excess force, seriously testing the build quality of the device. His posture is especially rigid as focuses on testing the wires currently in his lap.
Your pulse is racing. It’s as if each second that passes without a confession threatens to rip apart the very fabric of reality.
“Tech?” He has to feel this too, right? “Why...why did you stay behind today?” you ask, careful to keep your voice even. You need him to say it, admit that he feels it, too. You’re desperate for it.
“You can let go now,” he replied, pointedly ignoring your question.
You let go of the wire, but make no move to step away from him. You’re acutely aware of yourself right now and suddenly self-conscious: about the deep shade of crimson enveloping your face, the way you’re breathing, the clamminess you can feel on your palms. You hope you smell alright and silently pray that any traces of caf on your breath are long gone.
Several seconds pass before Tech looks up, over his shoulder at you. His face briefly flickers with concern.
“Your flushed features and increased heart rate indicates that you are nervous,” he remarks.
Maker, is it that obvious, you cringe.
Your mouth is dry and you contemplate making an excuse, but your brain does not want to cooperate.
“Sometimes I –,” you begin. Void, here I go. “Sometimes I get nervous around you,” you admit, attempting to make your confession sound as casual as possible. You bite your bottom lip in a way that you hope will be interpreted as sensual, or, at the very least, cute.
And Tech? Tech is flustered. Like visibly shaken, blushing furiously, two-steps-away-from-hyperventilating, kind of flustered.
“Please do not be nervous,” he responds tightly. Each word is taking considerable effort to be spoken. “I already told you: we trust you. I am not a threat to you.”
The poor guy. There’s no way he can really be misinterpreting that –.
“No, no, it’s a good kind of nervous,” you attempt to clarify.
“Nervousness is not conducive to high quality work,” Tech chokes out.
“No, I mean like giddy. I feel giddy around you.”
Come on, Tech.
“Would you like a chair–.”
“Stars, Tech, I like you!”
Tech...errors. He attempts to start several sentences with no success before mumbling an excuse that he has to go, “fix the reverse polarity capacitive inductor,” which, to your knowledge, is definitely not a real thing.
So maybe that could have gone better. All things considered, he did seem affected by your admission. On the other hand, he also left the room entirely.
Your face burns with embarrassment and, hey, maybe this backwater planet could make a decent home. Maybe the swamp water would be safe for consumption and you could spend the rest of your days foraging for swamp... berries. Sure, it might be a little uncomfortable, but no less uncomfortable than staying here for one more second.
And this is why you don’t admit your feelings to anyone. Ever.
Ugh. You were so confident, too. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to transport to another star system.
The door to the ‘fresher shuts, followed by a slight scuffle of feet, and a thunk that sounds decidedly like a head hitting the door.
You briefly consider leaving the ship to attempt to meet up with the rest of the Bad Batch. It’s been far too long since you’ve breathed fresh, clean, air and you feel a second wave of self-pity wash over you as you contemplate the thought of breathing in the smell of Wrecker’s feet for several more weeks in the Marauder’s circulated air. They hadn’t been gone longer than a standard hour and there was a clear path to get into town. You could still salvage the day, you could still stretch your legs–
‘Oh you want to know why I suddenly decided to join you, Hunter, after promising I’d help fix the ship? Funny story, I was trying to seduce your brother and he rejected me!’
You physically cringe at that. On second thought, maybe just pretending this didn’t happen would be the easier option. Lesser of two evils and all that.
Well, you’ve endured worse situations than this. Swamp berries, if they exist, probably won’t offer enough sustenance anyway, you conclude. You turn your attention to fixing several access panels that require little to no attention.
++++++++++++++++++++
It takes a long while for Tech to exit the ‘fresher. The door opens with a hiss and you stiffen, not looking up until he briskly walks past you and resumes his makeshift work station in the cockpit. Once he is seated and his back is facing you and you can hear the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on his datapad, you allow your entire body to relax.
You look back down to your newest project: fixing the swivel action on a chair. You’re not entirely sure if the chair needed to swivel, or whether it was supposed to, but it does now. At least Omega would have fun with that.
“Can you spare another minute?” Tech says after a considerable stretch of silence.
His comment catches you off-guard. It’s fine, it’s fine, you are just going to pretend like nothing happened. You can just carry on helping with actual repairs like you promised.
“I’m coming,” you say, while putting your entire weight into tightening a screw.
Tech coughs slightly.
“The, uh, I need your help with the cum system. The comm system!” he stutters.
Your eyes widen and decide it’s best not to comment, furiously thinking about the fact that Tech rarely makes mistakes. You wipe your hands on your trousers and stride over to the cockpit where Tech is fiddling with some wires on his lap.
“Take these,” he says while coiling a piece of wire to make a conductor. He pushes right through the awkwardness and places a handful of resistors in your outstretched hand.
You stand there in silence for several moments before you drum your fingers on the back of his chair. He makes no move to immediately utilise the resistors, so you resign yourself to stand there and watch him work. (You suppress a sigh – you wish you weren’t attracted to him at this moment, but here you are, drawn in by his confidence and fixated on watching his nimble fingers work their magic.)
Normally, you’d have already lost your patience. But not now, not when you are trying to decipher just what exactly Tech was trying to accomplish by calling you over and ignoring you. And that’s when you realise that Tech either forgot you were there or forgot to give you whichever menial task he originally intended.
But there’s absolutely no chance that Tech makes two mistakes within the same standard year, never mind two mistakes within the same afternoon.
You start to wonder if he even has any use for the resistors. Your knowledge of technology is limited, but you really don’t see how they’d be useful with his current task. Maybe this is Tech’s uncharacteristically inefficient way to try to initiate conversation. You really hope you’re not completely misreading the situation, but it’s not like you have any pride left to lose.
“Why did you stay behind today, Tech?” you ask quietly, voice tinged with apprehension and perhaps an unmistakable eagerness. You phrase it more like a statement than a question this time.
He continues to fidget, his leg bouncing anxiously as he works.
“I did some research,” he blurts. “Regarding intimacy between human males and human females.”
Huh.
“I read the specifics on how to kiss,” he continues, “but I fear that I am a bit out of my depth as to how I am supposed to initiate it.” He is still fussing with the wires in his lap, not quite able to look up at you.
“You...want to kiss?” you surmise, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. “Me?”
“Very much so.”
A grin breaks across your face and the sharp sting of Tech’s previous rejection immediately melts away. You deposit the handful of resistors in a tray containing various tools Tech had been using throughout the day before taking a tentative step forward from behind the chair. He cranes his neck to look at you, an unfamiliar expression that you’re not quite able to decipher written across his face.
You reach your hand out to caress his cheek, and sliding your hand down to his chin to guide it upwards as you bend down to bring your lips to his. The kiss is chaste, at first, but Tech proves himself a quick study as slightly parts his lips to deepen the kiss. His goggles nudge against your face and you’re pretty sure you’re leaving a greasy cheek print on one of them.
You pull away to gauge his reaction.
“Was that... satisfactory?” he asks, seemingly dazed. His eyes are hooded and still focused on your lips.
“It was perfect.” You offer a small smile.
He removes the goggles to clean one side of them with a nearby cloth. So you were leaving a cheek print. Once his goggles are back in place, he’s looking at you like he can’t quite believe you’re real, his golden brown eyes blinking owlishly at you.
“I apologise for leaving you earlier. I did not anticipate you returning my affections – it did not seem probable. And I was, regrettably, not prepared,” he mumbles.
“Probable?” It’s your turn to malfunction. You want to usher a thousand reassurances at once.
“Well, no.” Tech shifts his weight uncomfortably, not quite able to meet your eyes. “Hunter or Crosshair usually are the ones who capture the affections of –,”
“I like your goggles,” you interrupt in a rush before you surge forward to press your lips against his, hoping to convey just how much you return his affections. It’s a messy, urgent kiss that Tech returns with equal fervour. His fingers find their way into your hair, pulling you closer.
When you finally break the kiss, you straighten your back and take both of his hands in yours and take small, hesitant steps backwards, encouraging Tech to stand. As he does, the project he is working on slides off of his lap and clatters to the floor. He pays it no attention as he closes the distance between you, his eyes darkened with lust. He kisses you with renewed purpose as his hands wrap around your waist, roaming across your body, before they settle firmly on your ass.
Your hips grind into his codpiece and Tech lets out a low groan that goes straight to your core. He moves to kiss the curve of your neck, sucking at the delicate skin and making you squirm. The dampness between your legs becomes apparent and you press yourself closer to him, desperate for friction where you need it the most. As if he can read your mind, he trails a hand from your ass and places it between your legs, grazing over your clit before cupping your cunt. You involuntarily rock into his hand and moan into his mouth, hardly recognising the sounds you’re making.
Tech’s hand abruptly stills as he draws back to meet your eyes. His expression mirrors yours: searching wide eyes filled with longing, a silent acknowledgement passes between you as you reach the point of no return.
And in that moment you are struck with the urge to want nothing more than his cock in your mouth.
“Can I?” you blurt, glancing downward, hoping he is able to intuit exactly what you are suggesting in that moment.
“You may.” You allow the grammatical correction to slip by. “But I’ve never–,” he begins.
You don’t break eye contact and you begin to drop to your knees. He’s looking at you with his eyes wide, mouth slack. Tech’s bulged codpiece is mere inches from your face, and it’s in that moment that you realise that you have no idea how to undress this man.
And this, this is when you start to worry.
Does it have a latch? Does it even come off?
Your eyes dart from left to right looking for some sort of hint as to how it could be removed. You’re half tempted to just plant a smooch on the armour or the kiss inside of his thigh and pretend that all of this was intentional.
“I can get that,” Tech helpfully chimes in, blessedly oblivious to your internal struggle. He removes the pelvic plate with ease and, to your relief, you can see the shape of his erection straining under a layer of thick black fabric. Black fabric that conforms to his body shape exceedingly well. You reach out to feel his length, gently cupping his balls through the fabric before applying more pressure as you palm his shaft. He soft groan escapes his lips.
It catches you a little off guard, actually, to see him so hard. Knowing he’s been hard underneath his armour this entire time. Wondering when else he’s been hard and you had been none the wiser.
His cock has an attractive silhouette – it’s thicker than you expected and you can feel the patch of pre-cum that dampens the black fabric near his tip. You reach for his waistband and pull it down before slowly wrapping a hand around his shaft. He hisses with the contact and brings a white-knuckled fist to his lips.
You peer up at him through your lashes and you lick your lips, preparing to tease him a bit before taking him as deep as you can manage.
And that’s when something inside Tech snaps.
He looks down at you with wild eyes and places his hand on the back of your head to guide your mouth to his cock, apparently unable to continue the role of a passive observer for any longer. Clearly intent at putting his newfound research to good use. You lick a wet stripe from the base to the tip, before taking him in your mouth, the pre-cum tangy on your tongue. His grip tightens on your hair the same time he tilts his hips forward to push his cock further and you hollow your cheeks, sucking hard enough to make Tech groan and his knees buckle. He braces himself against the back of the pilot’s chair, captivated at the sight your mouth stretched around his length.
You begin to bob your head in a steady rhythm, taking him as deep as you’re able. You drag your tongue and press it flush on the underside of his cock, looking up at Tech with wide doe eyes, batting your eyelashes prettily as he struggles to maintain composure. You continue your pace until sweat starts to bead at his temple and his breathing becomes less controlled.
Patience isn’t your strong point and you’re too pent up not to touch yourself. You bring your free hand down your trousers, between your thighs, running your fingers through your wet folds and hum at the sensation. Tech’s hips stutter with the vibrations and his face contorts in what looks like a pained grimace. He takes a miniature step back and your lips leave his cock with a pop. He’s breathing heavily now and his weeping cock is painfully hard, his balls tight.
“I don’t want to finish in your mouth, mesh’la,” he pants, voice low.
You nod dumbly, currently unable to form a coherent thought or tear your eyes away from his erect length, only inches away from your face.
Tech takes hold of both of your forearms, helping you get to your feet, before wrapping his hands around your thighs, picking you up with surprising ease. You lock your thighs around his torso as he strides over to press you against one of the auxiliary control panels adjacent to the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit. The incline on the panel is steep and the pressure of his hips against yours is the only thing keeping you from sliding down.
“Let me taste you,” Tech groans against your ear.
You let out a frustrated whine and desperately move to unclasp your trousers as Tech works to open your shirt. You shudder once the cool air hits your sweat-dampened skin and Tech messily palms your exposed breast while nipping at your neck. He helps you shimmy out of your clothing while holding you in firmly place before discarding them on the floor of he Marauder.
And this is how you find yourself spread eagle on the Marauder's control panel in possibly the most undignified position you’ve ever been in.
He goes to remove his goggles and you stop him.
“If they’re not uncomfortable for you, I’d like for you to leave them on.” He quirks a brow at you, quizzical. “What? I told you that they’re cute.”
His face evolves from sceptical to bashful in a few moments.
“Very well, then. I can leave them on.”
Tech moves his hands under your thighs as he lowers himself, draping your legs across each of his shoulders with surprising gentleness for a man who looks like he is ready to devour you. Once he’s on his knees and comfortably supporting your weight, keeping you pressed against the console, he places an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh.
“A-are you okay with this?” you manage to stutter out. It’s not like you haven’t pictured his head between your thighs before, but something about his head actually being between your thighs fills you with a nervousness you hadn’t anticipated.
He mumbles his assurances against your clit. He begins with slow, languid licks and you suck in a sharp breath as you feel yourself craving more and have to stop yourself from violently bucking your hips up.
Okay, so he’s actually really good at this. You know you really shouldn’t be that surprised, Tech is nothing if not thorough with his research and it’s, er, practical applications. Any thoughts of humour at Tech’s expense are, however, ripped from your mind when he sinks a single finger inside your cunt. His finger curls with a precision that only Tech could manage and you moan in encouragement as he pumps it in and out.
You squirm when he hits the spot that makes you want to beg for more and you feel your bare ass hit a button on the console. The next thing you hear is a soft swish swish sound of the Marauder's screen wipers that you inadvertently turned on. Mercifully, it doesn’t break Tech’s concentration and his hands continue to grip your hips, holding your cunt to his face.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you chant. You writhe again and another button sounds its activation. Nothing immediately makes itself known. You hope it’s not something like a proton torpedo firing into the swampy area the Marauder landed in. Not because there’s anything nearby, but because you’ll die if Tech stops here.
He moans into your core as he brings a hand down to grip his leaking cock, desperate for some friction.
“Kriff,” you grunt at the sight of him fucking his fist, only to hear Tech utter the same exclamation at the same time.
“Is there an echo in here or something?” You smile at him, offering a half-laugh before your face contorts with pleasure once again and you hiss through your teeth.
“Yes?” a new, tinny voice chimes in on the overhead speaker system. “This is Echo... You’ve, uh, turned on the short range comm system.”
You knew Tech was a good soldier, but the reflexes in which he slammed the short range comm transmitter with his free hand surprised you. He didn’t move himself from between your thighs and skilfully cut off the transmission while continuing to work your clit with his tongue and your cunt with his finger.
Before you could die from embarrassment and wonder just how much Echo and the rest of the Batch heard, Tech adds another finger and your entire body jerks and tenses.
“I’ve – ah, right there – Maker, that feels good. I’ve never been with anyone who is patient enough to let me come,” you manage to say through gritted teeth.
“My research indicated that it can take around 20 standard minutes for women to orgasm if properly relaxed, why would others stop prematurely?” Tech replies, only briefly removing his mouth from your cunt to reply.
“Selfishness?” you guess.
Tech seemed to take your admission (and ability to form sentences) personally, clearly intent on rendering you incapacitated. He returns to his attention to your clit and maintains his rhythm, teasing a third finger near your entrance. You whine at the sensation and move to hold Tech’s head in place, because if he stops now, there’s no way you’ll ever forgive him. The pressure that’s been mounting in your core finally, finally peaks and your entire body tenses as you surrender to your climax.
“Tech,” you whine, unable to formulate thoughts, let alone words.
He assures you with a soft groan and tightens his grip on your hip. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he guides you through your climax.
As you come down from your orgasm, you feel like you’ve spent a year in bacta. You can’t move. Honestly, your bones are like Andorian jelly. The feeling is only temporary, however, as you’re overcome with the desire – no, need – to be filled.
“In me,” you urge. “Now.”
He adjusts his goggles and looks at you, spread out, completely ready for him.
“Lie back then.”
Tech settles between your thighs and nudges his cock head against your entrance. He takes a breath to steady himself, rubbing his length through your folds, covering it in your arousal.
“So wet and ready for me, mesh’la.”
Your hands wildly grasp at his chest plate, fingernails scratching along the plastoid, desperate to hold onto anything to anchor you. You meet his mouth with a graceless kiss, before he finally sinks into you.
“You’re tight,” he grits out.
He waits a few moments letting you adjust to his size before he begins to move. He restrains himself, slowly rolling his hips as your cunt stretches around his length.
“More,” you plead, breathlessly. “Please.”
Your encouragement is all he needs before he snaps his hips against yours, setting an unrelenting rhythm. He rocks into you harder with each thrust of his hips, his plastoid leg places slapping your skin.
“You feel so good, cyar'ika,” he pants. You surge upwards to greet his lips with a messy kiss, which only spurs him on to fuck you faster. “You’re, ah, taking me so well.”
“Fuck –,” you whine.
His grip tightens and his whole body starts to tense – he’s dangerously close to coming undone. And that’s when you notice his pace start to slow, his movements clearly distracted.
“Tech?” you mumble. You focus your eyes on his face and he looks dazed, you can practically hear him thinking. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but he doesn’t give you any time to panic.
“Elevate your hips by seven to ten degrees,” he states through heavy breaths.
“What?” Definitely not what you were expecting him to say.
Tech seems unfazed by your apparent annoyance. He wordlessly repositions himself, grabbing both of your hips and raising them slightly, holding your body up so it’s just the sharp incline of the console and Tech’s hands keeping you in place.
He began thrusting in earnest again, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure. And, Maker, he was right. The new angle hits a spot that makes your toes curl and you lose the ability to speak almost instantly and mewl helplessly as Tech fucks into you.
You made an undignified noise as you gripped his bicep, desperate to hold onto something, feeling the pressure mount in your core. With Tech’s hands busy holding you in place as he maintains a brutal pace, you bring a hand down to your clit, still wet with spit and your own essence. You barely have to touch yourself before you feel your body screaming for release.
“’M coming,” is all the warning you are able to give him before your cunt spasms around his twitching cock as your vision whites out. Tech grunts at the sensation, unable to hold his own climax off any longer.
“Where do you want me to –,” he grates out.
“Anywhere,” you cut him off, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Just want to feel you.”
“Fuck, mesh’la, I’m going to come,” Tech groans, desperately chasing his release with harsh thrusts. His hips forcefully buck into you before his cock stiffens and he spills himself inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, slowly pumping you full of his cum, before he slumps against you. “Bid jate par me,” he mumbles into your neck, barely audible. “Gotal par me.”
You don’t know Mando’a, but whatever he is saying, the way he is saying it, sends a pleasant chill over your body.
You’re both still breathing heavily when Tech gingerly places you back down with a surprising gentleness for someone who had just been fucking you within an inch of your life. He’s in no rush to remove himself from you, but when his softened cock does slip out and his cum leaks out of you and onto the console, he helps you slide down. When your feet touch the floor, your legs wobble slightly and Tech has to grasp your forearms to steady you, softly chuckling at the state you’re in.
And when you look at him, he looks positively debauched. Sated, but debauched. You probably look worse.
In one swift motion he bends down, brings an arm down under your knees, and lifts you up. You wrap your arms around your neck while he carries you to his bunk. His cool armour against your overheated skin is a welcome sensation and you press yourself closer.
“Your research paid off,” you mumble into his chest as he sets you down on his bed.
“Please do not act so surprised by that.”
++++++++++++++++++++
You and Tech aren’t quite finished with the repairs by the time the Batch return hours later, long after the moons have risen and the bioluminescent plants surrounding the ship have begun to glow. If the squad notice you’re sitting a bit too close to Tech, your thigh pressing comfortably against his, they don’t say anything.
Neither of you were expecting to defile the Marauder all day and Tech was frantically fixing the lever on a storage hatch access panel, attempting to make up for lost time.
“Wrecker!” Echo shouts. “Clean up after yourself, for kriff’s sake.”
“Why?” Wrecker drawls, stomping towards the cockpit. “What did I do this time?”
“You’ve spilled your juice on the console again, all the keys are stuck in place.”
The access lever snaps clean off in Tech’s hands.
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twh-news · 3 years
Text
We spoke to Tom Hiddleston about Loki, PowerPoint presentations and the nature of free will
Despite a decade of playing Loki in several Marvel movies and now a TV show, Tom Hiddleston isn’t tired of the role. “There is always something new to be found,” he says The edge.
This week is the premiere of Loki on Disney Plus, a six-episode series that marks the character’s first lead role. It is a story of time travel and branched timelines as Loki is captured by an organization called the Time Variance Authority (TVA). It combines action, humor and some old-fashioned detective work, while tackling serious topics such as the nature of free will. There are also some new faces on board as Hiddleston is joined by Marvel newcomers Owen Wilson, who plays a TVA agent named Mobius, and director Kate Herron, best known for her work on the first season of Sex education.
Prior to the show’s premiere, I had the chance to talk to Hiddleston about his time as a character, a presentation that made him feel like an “amateur academic giving a thesis on Loki,” working with Wilson and Herron, and whether our lives are predetermined. Typical Marvel stuff.
The following interview has been edited and abbreviated for clarity.
We are now at a decade where you play Loki. How have your feelings about the character changed or grown over that time?
I’m honestly just thankful that I’m still here. I find that I am always surprised and happy that I get another chance in it. Long before I was cast, Loki was just the most fascinating and complex character with such depth and range, and he’s been in Marvel comics in several iterations for 60 years, and he’s been in our thoughts, in stories we tell as humans, for hundreds, if not thousands of years. I find that even though it has been 10 years, every time I come back, there is always more to discover. There is always more to dig because these impostors are kind of mercurial and shape-shifting. So there is always something new to be found.
"“Loki is out of control. He’s a man on the run.”"
Now that you’ve focused this six-episode series on Loki, what were you looking forward to exploring with this? What were you hoping to dive into?
I think he’s really opening up and bringing out his many different identities and facets. In my preparation to play the character, I’ve always seen him have so many different and seemingly contradictory characteristics. You think, “How can all these characteristics exist in one person, in one being?” And yet they do.
Loki has always been a character in all MCU movies that seems to be very controlled. He seems to know what cards he has in his hand and how he is going to play them. And Loki, in the TVA – this organization that rules time – has gotten out of hand. He’s a man on the run. And he is motivated by a desire to understand. Suddenly he discovers that there is all this information that he does not have, and he has to get his hands on it. And that actually gives the series great momentum. Loki is on the back foot, everyone knows more than him, and seeing how he adapts, seeing how he improvises after that – if improvisation is possible in the TVA. That’s a question we’re trying to raise, whether you have free will.
I read about the Loki school you led to prepare the team for the character’s history. How did you prepare for that? Did you actually know it all, or did you have to do a lot of research?
I wish it wouldn’t be 10 hours long. I knew I had to summarize what I found useful to tell the crew. It came about thanks to Kate Herron, our director who has done an extraordinary job on this whole series, and he thought maybe it would be a good idea to get everyone together because there were so many department heads, different crew members – production design, costume design, cinematography, camera, sound, stunts – and wanting to make sure everyone had the same information about Loki, and it might be helpful to listen to my experience. I was trying to explain how we constructed Loki’s arc across the six movies he’s in the MCU and figure out what was useful in that arc and what we could leave behind.
I suddenly felt extremely nervous, as if I were an amateur academic writing a thesis on Loki. You’ll have to ask the others if it was helpful at all. But at least we synchronized the watches and we started from the same place.
"“If I were tall enough to use PowerPoint, I could retire and become a full-time professor.”"
So is there a PowerPoint file out there somewhere that will leak out one day?
If I was highly skilled enough to use PowerPoint, I could retire and become a full-time professor.
I did have a few clips. I thought there were some clips from the movies that could be helpful. It was interesting, even though it was about how the costume had changed over the years and why. And when does Loki wear the horns? Are the horns a casual thing? Are they a ceremonial thing like a crown? Is it an extension of an inner intention? Do the horns come out if he’s particularly evil? Why is her hair different? Sometimes he wears a cape, sometimes not. Sometimes he uses magic, sometimes he uses his own body to fight in combat. All questions that people were curious about.
I know this was meant for the rest of the crew, but was it helpful for you to go through this again as you prepared to jump back into the role?
Oh yes, absolutely, just to refresh myself about certain decisions we had made and why certain things were changed… sometimes you try to bring very elaborate and beautifully illustrated comic book panels into a physical reality on a movie set and figure out how to merge these two worlds. It was interesting. I got some great questions about how he moves the way he does and where certain things showed up in stunts, especially hair, makeup and wardrobe, how the clothes changed and why we made those choices.
It was interesting to refresh myself on the extraordinary input, because I carry the inspiration of great people with me. [Thor director] Kenneth Branagh and Alexandra Byrne, our costume designer; Bo Welch who designed the first Thor movie; Charlie Wood who was production designer on The dark world; the whole crew of Ragnarok; Mayes Rubeo, the costume designer of Ragnarok; and people like Douglas Noe, who has been doing makeup on Loki for a long time. So there was a lot to unpack.
Both Kate Herron and Owen Wilson are newcomers to the Marvel machine. Is it helpful to have such an external perspective?
Absolutely. Both Kate and Owen came in with so many questions because they hadn’t lived in Loki’s head for 10 years. They have a fresh take on it. Kate was so well prepared and so well researched; she even brought in new Marvel Publishing material that I’d never seen before, about Loki’s inner world. Owen came in and asked me a lot of questions about my experience. I remember him saying, “Tom, why should I?” you do you like to play Loki?” And I found myself saying, “Well, he’s just got this whole range. He can play the light keys, but he can also play the heavy keys in the bass clef. And somehow the character has both.” And he loved that way of thinking about it, he said, “I think I could say that on the show.” And so it was really his very intelligent question that took us elsewhere in the story.
Given the themes of the first two episodes, I have to ask: do you believe in free will?
I hope so. Free will is such an interesting, eternal question. I think people have asked to what extent we have the power of self-determination, self-realization, choice about our actions and whether we can control the course of our lives. It goes back to evolutionary or psychological arguments about nature and nurture and why we are who we are. Maybe it’s the journey of a lifetime to find out, to really take the wheel of your own life. Because we are set on a path in childhood, I think, often by accident – the misfortune of birth, where we were born and when – and we are propelled in many ways by the unconscious.
That’s a complicated answer. It’s a complex question. So I hope so. I hope true free will is possible. But for all of us, I think it can be a long journey of self-discovery.
197 notes · View notes
specialagentsergio · 3 years
Text
love, in ink
summary: Spencer wants to do something special to commemorate your relationship. (or, reader and spencer get a couples’ tattoo)
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
category: fluff
content warnings: tattoos & tattooing, one very light sexual reference bc i'm a hoe
a/n: i recently got my first tattoo and i’ve been absolutely obsessed with tattoos ever since, so here you go. location and design was purposefully left vague so you can imagine anything you want, but i do write reader as already having at least two tattoos.
word count: 2.9k
masterlist
Spencer’s been thinking about it for years.
Two years, eight months, and twenty days to be exact.
Looking back, four months and ten days was pretty early to be thinking of something so permanent. But he couldn’t help it—contrary to how he thinks people perceive him, he’s a romantic. A bit of a hopeless one, really.
In any case, he had been right. Almost three years after your first date, you’re still together and absolutely in love. You live together, your lives are inseparably entwined. Every day has been an affirmation of the conclusion he came to three months into your relationship—you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
So really, four months and ten days wasn’t all that early to think of getting a tattoo with you.
He doesn’t have any, but you do, and he’s always loved them. He likes running his fingers over them, pressing kisses to them, rubbing moisturizer into them, and aiding you in making sure they’re all well covered in sunscreen before you’re going to be outside for a while.
He’d never really considered getting a tattoo until he saw how much you loved yours. It’s one of your favorite forms of self-expression, you’ve told him. You say the body art helps you feel more confident, comfortable, and at home in your body. Confidence in your body—that’s definitely something he could do with. But above everything, because it’s something you love, and Spencer loves you, it’s an experience he wants to share with you.
He brings up the idea over dinner forty-five days before your three-year anniversary. You’re reading while you eat—a common occurrence in your home for the both of you. He spins his fork in his hand a few times, then carefully sets it down and says your name.
You hold up a finger to ask him to wait; he watches your eyes move across the page as you finish the paragraph you’re on. Your attention is on him as soon as you’re finished. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” He’s nervous—he knows you love him, but what if you say no anyways? What if you don’t want to get a tattoo with him? They are permanent, after all. “It’s… I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he admits.
Your eyes widen when you pick up on his anxiety. “Oh god, are you breaking up with me?���
He nearly chokes on the water he’d nervously sipped. “Wha—no, no!” he rushes to assure. “I—I love you. I don’t—I don’t ever want that.”
You take in a deep breath, carefully putting your book aside. “Alright. Okay.”
“Why would you think I was breaking up with you?” he asks, concerned about the conclusion you’d jumped to. “Are… are you not happy? Are things not good between us, for you? I thought—well, think, they are. Maybe I’m wrong? I could be. I’ve never been the best at reading social clues. Have I missed something? I’m sorry if I have. I--”
“Spence, Spencer.” You interrupt his nervous rambling and reach across the table, placing your hand on top of his. “Things are great between us for me. I love you, too. You were just so serious when you said you wanted to talk, it caught me off guard. It’s… not an uncommon way for a conversation about breaking up to start.”
“Oh. Sorry. I—I didn’t realize it could come off like that,” he says quietly.
“It’s okay. As long as we’re not breaking up, I’m happy.” You give his hand a squeeze before leaning back in your chair. “So, what is it you want to talk about?”
“Right.” He squares his shoulders and wipes his damp palms on his pants. “Our three year anniversary is in forty-five days, and I was thinking to celebrate, maybe we could… get a tattoo together?”
Immediately you break into the most beautiful smile—he’s happy to have an eidetic memory when it comes to moments like this. “Really?” you ask, body tense with excitement.
“Yeah. Really,” he confirms. “I, um… I guess you’re on board, then?”
“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Spencer this is so exciting! Your first tattoo!”
He doesn’t bother to correct you about calling it his first. He’s got no plans to get more, so this could very well be his only tattoo. But he doesn’t want to dampen the moment, so instead he says, “I don’t really have any ideas for it. I just want to do it with you.”
“Wait here.” You disappear into the bedroom and return with a folded piece of notebook paper. It’s worn and wrinkled, the edges curled in. He unfolds it carefully to find the page covered in your handwriting. Some of the writing looks more rushed than other parts. Some sections are in blue ink, some are in black. It’s clear you’ve been compiling this list for quite a while.
He reads it at his normal, rapid pace, but it takes him a few moments to understand it. “Is this a list of…?”
You nod. “Tattoo ideas.” He looks up at you in… well, in awe, and you shrug. “I don’t want to just get your name on me, as nice as it is.”
“How long have you been working on this?”
“Um.” The answer seems to embarrass you a little. “A… a couple of years.”
“Years?” he repeats. “But you never said anything.”
“I didn’t want you to feel pressured into getting a tattoo,” you say. “Since they are, you know, permanent.”
“Relatively.” He looks back to the paper, running his fingertips over the indents left by the pressure of the pen. “They naturally fade with age, and can age prematurely through sun exposure.”
“Yeah. Listen, it’s okay if you don’t like any of my ideas.”
Spencer shakes his head—he likes a lot of them, but he already knows which one he wants—he knew as soon as he read it. He points. “This one.”
You bend down to see it and smile. “I was hoping you’d pick that one.”
“It’s perfect,” he says, and presses a kiss to your cheek.
---
You handle pretty much everything, contacting one of your favorite artists and pitching the idea. You’ve been tattooed by her before—specifically, she did his favorite of your tattoos. So he’s happy to have her do this one, too, putting down the deposit without hesitation. The artwork she sends back is everything he pictured and more. She’s taken the idea and brought it to life better than he could ever hope to. A few tweaks here and there, then the date is set. You’ll be getting tattooed the Friday before your anniversary.
Yours will be done first, near the end of his work day—when he arrives, you should be just about done. It’s not exactly how he imagined it happening, but you said it would be better this way. If he sits and watches you get the entire thing done, you think he’ll end up psyching himself out about his own tattoo.
“Is it really that bad?” he had asked.
You shrug. “Well, it’s pain, so it’s obviously not super fun, but it’s tolerable. You overreacted when I stubbed my toe last week, so I think it’s probably best if you’re not there watching me the entire time.”
“I don’t like seeing you in pain,” he defends sheepishly.
“Exactly. I’ll keep you updated with texts and pictures, though, okay?”
He agrees, because honestly, you’re probably right.
Getting into bed with you the night before he asks, “What does it feel like? Besides it just hurting.”
“It’s different for everyone. It also depends on where you get it.” Spencer bumps your arm with his nose, silently requesting for you to adjust your position in a way that allows him to press as much of his body as he possibly can against yours. You place your hand in his hair once he’s settled, as usual, then continue. “It does kind of… vibrate. That’s something I didn’t expect going into my first tattoo.”
“Vibrate?” he repeats. “That’s… well, I guess it makes sense, considering how tattoo machines work.”
“Mm-hmm. But I wouldn’t worry about that part if I were you. Last time I checked, vibration isn’t a sensation that bothers you.” A very slight tug on his hair. “The opposite, actually.”
The squeak he makes is involuntary. “I, um… okay. I’ll—I’ll keep that in mind.”
He’s treated to a little laugh, but then your tone changes. “Seriously, though, Spencer. It’s okay if it ends up being too much, or just not for you, and you can’t finish the tattoo. Or if you just don’t want to finish it. I won’t be mad.”
He’s taken by surprise at first. It is a worry that he’s been harboring, that all the sensory input will be too much, but he’s never said anything about it, so how did you know?
Then again, it’s you. Of course you know. You always do.
“Okay,” he whispers. “Thank you.”
---
“Hey, how can I help you?”
Spencer looks up from his phone to the woman who’s just come into the front of the shop from the back. As promised, you’d kept him updated on your tattoo process with texts and pictures.
“Um, I—I have an appointment?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but he’s really nervous—you were definitely right to have him come in later than you so he doesn’t have enough time to get really worked up.
“Who’s it with?”
“Megan.”
She glances over her shoulder. “Megan is currently with someone. I can go ask her how long the wait will be.”
“No, it’s okay, she’s working on my partner. We’re—we’re getting tattoos together,” he explains.
“Oh, fun! I’ll lead you back, then.”
He follows her to an open doorway. Your body is still and unmoving; Megan is hunched over your skin. You smile when you see him. “Hi, Spencer.”
“Hey. Um, how’s it going?”
You sigh. “Well, to be honest, I think this is going to be my last tattoo.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Megan says without looking up.
The little angry huff you make before replying with “I know” makes him smile, and his nerves settle a little. “Why do I do this to myself?”
Spencer can tell it’s just a rhetorical question, asked in good humor, but he can’t stop himself from answering it regardless.
“There are many different reasons that could drive someone to get a tattoo despite the pain, including the adrenaline and endorphins the body produces in response to pain, stress relief, and the need for creative expression.”
“Stress relief?” you repeat. “I haven’t heard that one before.”
“It is a strange concept at face value. An example, though, would be getting a tattoo to mark the end of a difficult period in your life. Some people get them to symbolize personal difficulties or trauma, or to memorialize people they’ve lost. It can be a form of catharsis that helps them process painful emotions, memories, or other stressful feelings.”
Your head tilts as you take the information in. “That’s interesting.”
“Alright.” Megan leans back. “It’s done. Go take a look.”
Spencer follows you to the full length mirror. “Oh, wow,” you breathe out as soon as you see it. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Spencer.” You touch his arm. “What do you think?”
It takes him a few moments to answer because he’s been overcome with emotion. He’s overwhelmed with just how much you love and care for him to have permanently embedded a reminder of him into your skin. “It’s perfect,” he whispers.
“It is,” you agree.
You return to Megan and she takes a few photos of the tattoo, promising to text them to you, then gets started on the aftercare. “You know the drill,” she says, but still gives you the instructions for what to do as the artwork heals. He only barely registers what she’s saying—his eyes are glued to the tattoo.
“Okay, let me get everything switched out and cleaned up, and then we can start on yours, Spencer.”
“Hmm?” He tears his gaze away to find Megan looking at him. “Oh, right. Okay.” He sits off to the side with you while she disposes of supplies, replaces them with new, sterile ones, and wipes everything down.
She works fast—before he knows it, Megan has shaved and cleaned his skin, and has him in front of the mirror as she places the stencil. It takes a few tries to get it just right. He apologizes when she has to print the stencil again, but she waves him off. “It’s your tattoo and it’s going to be on you forever. I want you to be one-hundred percent happy with the placement.”
His nerves spike back up when he’s settled down and all ready to be tattooed. You sit in a chair on the opposite side of him than Megan, and when you offer your hand, he grabs it immediately.
“Breathe, baby,” you say gently. “Try not to tense up too much.”
He does try, but still jumps a little when Megan’s gloved hand touches him. “Sorry,” he says breathlessly. “I’m a little nervous.”
“Oh, no, you’re fine,” she reassures. “I won’t start until you’re ready.”  
“I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Okay. I’ll start with just one small line.”
It’s a strange sensation, unlike anything he’s felt before, but it’s… not horrible. He’s been scratched by cats in the past, and it feels kind of like that, but hot. There’s the vibrating you had mentioned, too.
“How was that?” Megan asks.
“Not so bad,” he answers honestly.
“That’s great. I’ll keep going then. Settle in. Just let me know if you start feeling funny or if you need a break, alright?” At his nod, she goes to work, and he switches his attention to you. He knows he shouldn’t, that it’ll probably come back to bite him in the ass, but he can’t stop himself from teasing you.
“I don’t know why you were complaining earlier,” he says in his best innocent voice, with his best innocent expression. “It’s not that bad.”
The way your mouth drops open just a little bit is adorable, and so is the noise of disbelief that follows. “Yeah, okay. Tell me that again at the end.”
“I will,” he replies, mentally adding probably not to the sentence.
You roll your eyes and let go of his hand to sort through your things. You give him a lollipop when you find it.
“What’s this for?” Suckers aren’t really his favorite candy.
“Your adrenaline is probably going to drop now that the tattoo has started and I don’t want you to pass out,” you say. “The sugar will help prevent you from getting lightheaded.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
The tattoo goes well overall, he thinks. It’s definitely painful, but like you said, it’s tolerable. He’s certainly felt worse. Near the end, though, he really starts hurting, and a grimace slips across his face.
“She’s almost done,” you reassure. He hasn’t been looking at it, but you have. “Also, what was that you saying earlier?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “It’s not even the needle, you know. It’s the paper towels.”
“A lot of people say that,” Megan says. “Just a few more minutes left.”
He spends those last few minutes questioning every decision he’s made in his life that has led him to this moment, and swearing to himself that he’s never going to do this again. But then it’s over and he’s looking at in the mirror, and it’s suddenly like the past five minutes never happened.
Spencer loves it. He absolutely adores it. Not just the art itself, but how it looks on his body and how it’s making him feel.
“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask, making him jump a little. He’d been so fixated on the tattoo that he didn’t notice you joining him.
He ponders for a moment to find the right words. “I’m beginning to understand why you like doing this so much.”
You grin. “It’s great, huh?”
“It is, yeah. I kind of want to touch it; is that weird?”
“No, but don’t,” you reply. “It’s an open wound.”
“I know.” He looks back at Megan. “This is perfect. Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she says. “Thank you for trusting me with your first tattoo.”
When he drags himself away from the mirror, she goes over aftercare with him, and he listens more intently this time. A few things are going to be a little inconvenient, he thinks, but it’s more than worth the trade off.
You take his hand as you leave the shop. “I’m so happy that I got to do that with you.”
He squeezes your hand back. “Me too.”
You reach the car, but before he can move towards the passenger side, you pull him in close. “I love you.”
His free hand comes up to cradle your cheek. “I love you, too.”
You kiss him, soft and sweet. “Happy three years,” you say when you pull back.
“Here’s to three more?” he offers, a little nervous, but mostly hopeful.
Your smile leaves no room for doubt. “I like the sound of that.”
---------------
hit up my inbox if you wanna talk tattoos bc i fucking love them. what do you see spencer getting with his partner?
general taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ , @spencerreid9​
142 notes · View notes
Text
The Devil's in the details, and Cupid's in STI clinics
Ao3 LINK
Summary: “Come on! We’ll make a day of it!”
“No.”    
“It’ll be like when we were kids- like a boy’s night out!”    
“No!”    
“Come on, Alec!”    
“For the last time, and I can’t believe I have to say this, no, I will not go to a STI testing with you!” 
Jace is persuasive, Alec really hates his brother, and Cupid is laughing maniacally from wherever that bastard hides from people.
For @shadowhunterbingo Square filled: First Date
............
“Come on! We’ll make a day of it!”
“No.”
“It’ll be like when we were kids- like a boy’s night out!”
“No!”
“Come on, Alec!”
“For the last time, and I can’t believe I have to say this, no, I will not go to a STI testing with you!”
Alec rolls his eyes. He puts the last washed dish to dry on the rack, then grabs a kitchen towel to dry his own hands, all the while Jace’s breathing is loud on the speakerphone.
“I’m pretty sure my neighbours can hear you breathing, idiot.” Alec rolls his eyes, switching from speakers to handset with a tap.
“It’s important to stay safe, brother, even if the frequency of someone’s sex life might qualify them for priesthood.”
Alec rolls his eyes. “Fuck you, asshole.”
“Yes and we both need to be tested before anyone does that.” Jace’s chuckle comes out as tinny, the call quality clearly dropping. “Tell me, since when’s the last time you got tested?”
“Last year.” Alec answers after a beat.
“As someone who cares about your physical well being, I am concerned. As someone who cares about your love life, I am concerned with a capital C.”
“You’re insufferable.” Alec rubs his temple wearily. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”
“I’ll pick you up at ten.” Jace says. “Wear sensible shoes.”
“I hate you.”
----------------
Alec does, in fact, hate him at least a tiny bit. Especially since he’s twenty minutes late. In pouring rain. On his only day off in two weeks. Finally at a quarter to eleven, Jace’s old Toyota shows up.
“What the actual fuck, dude!” Alec yells at him as soon as the door opens.
“I’m so fucking sorry, okay?” Jace notices the tremors in Alec, and turns the heat all the way up.
“What the hell happened?” Alec rubs his hands together to generate more body heat. “I’ve called you like a hundred times.”
“The car got stuck. I got down to see what’s wrong, and my phone slipped out of my pocket and into a puddle. Then I saw the tire got punctured. I had to run home and get a stepni.”
“For the love of God.” Alec swears.
“Do you still wanna go today?” Jace asks. “I won’t mind if you say no. I know you’ve been working at the office for weeks straight.”
“I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.” Alec sighs. “Besides, you’re right. Health is an important issue. Especially if you’re disowned by your parents and have to live on your own without any safety net to fall on if you do accidentally catch something.”
“Hey, you know you always got me and Izzy, right?”
“I know.” Alec gives him a tight nod.
“Hey Alec, you know what I just realized?” Jace smirks with a hidden joke. “You’ve got a friend in me.”
“If you play that song on a loop again I swear to God!” Alec warns.
“Too late!” Jace hits the aux button with a shiteating grin.
Alec groans into his hands. “I hate you so much.”
-----------
“Er- Jace?”
“What?”
“Jace!” Alec hits his brother with his elbow. “What do I say?”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t just go and say whatever comes to mind!” Alec sounds horrified. “What am I gonna ask, ‘hey come here often?’ Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Just go up and ask about our appointment.” Jace nudges him towards the counter.
“Our appointment was seventy five minutes ago! I can’t just go there and ask about it after we’re so late!” Jace detects the slight panic in Alec’s voice.
“You’re asking them for a rescheduling. With only one other patient in the office waiting. It’s not even that big a deal. Just go up to the counter.”
“We need a game plan.” Alec seems ready to plan a battle from the look of it.
“You goddamn introvert.” Jace shakes his head. “The receptionist is not a monster. They’re not gonna try to eat you for trying to reschedule!”
“Hi there!”
Jace and Alec jump just as the partition slides open all of a sudden, the cheery voice of the receptionist floating through. The pancakes from breakfast sit heavier in Alec’s stomach with every second he spends looking at the receptionist.
“Sorry to jump you both like this.” The beautiful man smiles. “But we’re going on break soon and since we have a birthday party later, we were wondering if we can finish up with all the appointments before we take a long break. I really hope you understand.”
“Oh, yeah, of course, I mean- we totally understand- whatever we can do to- actually you know what, our appointment time’s already over, I mean- how important is a STI checkup? Pff, not much, I’ll say.” Alec chokes out a nervous laugh.
“God, it’s like looking at a trainwreck in slow motion.” Jace covers his eyes with a hand.
“Um….” The receptionist- Magnus, Alec reads the name card- looks between the two of them confusedly.
“What this human disaster here,” Jace sends a disappointed glance towards Alec, “was trying to ask is, can we reschedule an appointment from about an hour and a half ago? We had a flat tire and the rain really blocked the roads.”
“I’m sure I can squeeze you in for a quick swab test.” Magnus smiles sweetly, tapping away at the computer. “Someone will be with you shortly.”
“Thank you.” Alec offers him a small smile.
“So, couples coming together for tests is very good for the relationship.” Magnus nods knowingly. Alec feels like he’s choking on air.
Jace chuckles, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “Oh yeah, we were practically joined at the hips since we were ten. But Chucklebunny here turns out wanted to be joined at the hearts too. He always says I’m the one for him, and vice versa of course.”
“You’re so annoying.” Alec rolls his eyes at Jace’s antics.
“You wuv me.” Jace counters.
“Doesn’t make you any less annoying.”
“Mr Lightwood?” A woman in blue scrubs comes in, a board in hand. “We’re ready for you. Follow me please.”
“Go get’em tiger.” Jace pats Alec as he gets up. Alec gives him the middle finger casually.
“My name's Dr Catarina Loss, I will be doing your exam today. I know this is an invasive procedure so if at any point you feel uncomfortable, just let me know, and I’ll….”
Catarina’s voice wafts away as she directs Alec to the exam room. Jace settles in with a magazine from the table, waiting for his turn.
“Who’s that cute boy with Cat?” Meliorn walks up to Magnus’s station, signing out for his break.
“Alec Lightwood. He’s here to get tested.” Magnus answers forlornly. “With his boyfriend.”
“All the hot ones are taken, huh?” Meliorn sighs.
“Tell me about it.” Magnus nods in agreement.
Simon runs in, chart board in hand. “Magnus, you got my next patient?”
“Shouldn’t you be on your break right now?” Meliorn points out from behind the counter.
“I’m pulling in some extra time.” Simon shrugs. “What? I need the new Nintendo switch.”
“You do you.” Magnus hands him a receipt. “Here you go, patient details.”
“Thanks.” Simon nods before calling out the name. “Uh, Mr Herondale?”
“That’ll be me.” Jace smiles. “Oh hi there.”
“My name’s Simon.” The brunette smiles. “ Please follow me. I’m gonna prep you before Dr Roberts can do your check up.”
“Well, Simon, you can prep me anytime.” Jace winks. Simon’s ears tinge pink with blush as he walks the blonde to an exam room.
“Did he seriously just flirt with Si while his boyfriend’s getting tested?” Magnus looks at their disappearing forms.”Un-freaking-believable.”
“Maybe they’re in a poly relationship, Magnus. Don’t judge.” Meliorn tuts.
“Well, I’m pretty sure Mr. Lightwood's not.” Magnus shares a look with his coworker. “Anyway, you’re right. None of my business.”
---------------
“Overtime is awesome.” Simon practically skips his way towards the reception. “I have a date!”
“Cool!” Meliorn fistbumps the brunette. “Who is it?”
“It’s that patient I prepped for Maia earlier. He plays the piano and he’s coming to see the band later.”
“Did he say anything about who he came with here?” Magnus asks, ignoring the warning look Meliorn sent his way.
“Yeah, he said his brother can take the car and won’t mind if I gave him a lift to the venue after I get off of work. He even joked that his brother would probably be mad that he pulled this. Why?”
“Brother, huh?” Magnus cocks an eyebrow. Meliorn looks at him pointedly. “What! He asked out Simon. That makes it our business.”
“What are you talking about?” Simon looks between the two, confused.
“Hi again.” Alec walks up to the counter. “Do you have the payment receipt for me?”
“Hello.” Magnus turns to look at Meliorn shaking his head one last time, before deciding to just day fuck it to professionalism. “Can I talk to you privately for a moment?”
“Uh, sure.” Alec nods, clearly thrown off track. Magnus walks up to the waiting lounge away from the counter, Alec hot on his heels.
“Is there anything wrong with my test?” Alec asks, distraught. “I know I should get checked at least every six months, but last year’s been so busy and I-”
“It’s not about your test. I’m so sorry, it must’ve seemed like that.” Magnus smiles apologetically. “We won’t have the results till tomorrow anyway.”
“Oh.” Alec's expression clears for a moment, before turning more confused. “What did you need to speak to me about then?”
“It’s about your boyfriend.” Magnus takes a deep breath. “I think he’s cheating on you.”
“What?” Alec asks, looking a little lost.
“I know, I’m so sorry.” Magnus winces. “I probably shouldn’t have been so blunt. It’s a terrible thing to hear, I know. He asked out one of our nurses and I had to tell you.”
“Um.” Alec offers his input in the conversation, ever so eloquently.
“One of my coworkers told me you guys could probably be poly, which again, is fine, but after those things your boyfriend said about you thinking he’s the one for you, and vice versa, I just had to say something.”
“Wait. You-” Alec narrows his eyes. “I’m not poly. I don’t have a boyfriend. We’re not dating.”
“Oh my God, please tell me you guys aren’t married.” Magnus feels horrified. “Simon’s gonna be devastated if he finds out.”
“Who the hell is Simon?” Alec feels the conversation is changing every other second. “What are you talking about?”
“Hey Alec, there you are!” Jace walks in, car keys spinning in his finger. “Can you take the car home? This cute nurse gets off duty in ten minutes and we have sort of a date, if you catch my drift.”
“Are you serious right now?” Magnus’s eyebrows threaten to vanish into his hairline. “Talking about cheating right in front of the man you married?”
“Married?” Jace looks at Alec, questions clear on his face. “What is he talking about, Alec?”
“I don’t know exactly.” Alec looks back at Magnus. “We’re not married. We’re not dating. He’s free to date all the people he wants.”
“What?” Now it’s Magnus’s turn to lose track of the conversation.
“Yeah, and it’s almost double the amount of people because my brother here never actually goes out to date.”
“I’m busy with work, okay!” Alec protests weakly.
“Wait, hold on. Brothers?” Magnus looks at the two. “You two look nothing alike.”
“I’m adopted.” Jace clarifies.
“Oh.” Realization finally dawns on Magnus. “Wait, then why did you say those things earlier?”
“I was joking?” Jace shrugs. “I thought it was obvious.”
“Oh, my God.” Magnus tries to hide his face behind his hands. “I am so, so sorry. Oh God what have I done! Please don’t report me.”
“You were just trying to save someone from a bad relationship.” Jace shrugs. “Nothing to report.”
“Better a false alarm this time than an actual abusive one slipping by next time.” Alec smiles. “Though watching DuckTales with Jace snoring should qualify as abuse on its own.”
“Rude.” Jace glares at his brother, mumbling something about bloodthirsty beasts. “Listen, it’s been about ten minutes and I really think I have a shot with Simon. I gotta go.”
“I’ll take the car home, don’t worry.” Alec nods. “You can come by tomorrow to get it.”
“Thanks, bro.” Jace pulls Magnus aside while Alec finishes up with payment at the counter. “We good here?”
“Yeah we’re good.” Magnus gives him a nod of acknowledgement. “Sorry I accused you of cheating. On your brother.”
“It’s cool.” Jace shrugs. “Speaking of brother, you should ask mine out.”
“You think he’d be interested?” Magnus looks back at the man signing some papers at the counter.
“I think he started stammering when he saw you first, he couldn’t be gayer if a very gay spider bit him, and lastly,” Jace spares a glance at his brother, “he’s the best man I’ve ever known. He deserves someone who can look out for him. Like you did today.”
“Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little fun at least.” Jace shrugs. “I’m pretty sure Alec’s forgotten what that word even means.”
“I’m over at the counter, not in a different room you idiot. I can still hear you.” Alec’s glare is imminent. “And I’m plenty of fun. It’s just yours and mine definition varies. By a lot.”
“Is that so?” Magnus cocks an eyebrow. “I have two tickets to the ice skating rink tomorrow. Maybe you could join me, that is, if it fits your definition of fun?”
“Yeah.” Alec smiles. “I’d like that.”
“Now are you glad I dragged you here?” Jace’s eyebrow wiggle meets Alec’s death stare.
“I still hate you.”
33 notes · View notes
scaredyships · 3 years
Text
Renegades (Din Djarin x gn!Reader) | pt. III
summary: Mando picks out the planet Sorgan for the three of you to lie low on. Things get complicated, Reader gets a glimpse of how hectic Mando's life can be as a bounty for hire, and everybody is confused about feelings.
word count:  14.5k (...help)
author’s notes: Good LORD I was stuck on this for way too long. Between my creative focus being elsewhere and just being completely stuck as to how I wanted some scenes to play out, it took a lot for me to do more than a sentence or two at a time and then forget about it for days or weeks at a time.
This was also hard to write bc I am very uhhh put off by Omera and her original role as the possible love interest and I was trying very hard to remain believable/respectful about her. Cara Dune was also hard to write because of certain actions by her actor, so she's got a little bit of a lesser role.
I'm saying this now, with future chapters I am not going to be going episode-by-episode like I originally intended. I might jump around and have some "filler" things, I may completely skip over some episode happenings, I may diverge from canon here and there, but generally the outcomes will be the same as the show. I cut out the actual battle of Sorgan too bc this is already too long and I am terrible at writing action scenes. :v
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 (you are here) // ao3 link
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It had been a couple days since you’d set yourself up a space in the hold. At least, it felt like a couple days. You weren’t accustomed to space travel and dealing with the lack of solar cycles to indicate the passage of time, so it was difficult to tell exactly. It didn’t really matter, in the end, but it was still a little annoying.
In that time, you spent most of your time getting to know your way around the Razor Crest’s small layout, what panels and buttons did what, and making sure the child on board was cared for and didn’t get into anything he shouldn’t. Easier said than done, as that kid was surprisingly sneaky and far too curious. He seemed well-behaved, right up until you weren’t looking, and the next thing you knew he was doing something like rooting around in a pile of netting and getting hopelessly tangled, or trying to put things in his mouth to teethe on.
Right now, the kid was up in the cockpit with Mando. Even though you were on board to help out, Mando still seemed to feel better when he was in the same room as the kid versus you being the one supervising, and to be honest it was nice to have a break from babysitting. You had never wanted kids of your own to begin with, and though this kid wasn’t exactly your standard child, it reinforced that at the end of the day, the factor of being able to give the child back to their actual caregiver played a large role in just how tolerant you were of them.
The entire ship suddenly jerked to the side and sent you crashing into the hull wall, your shins narrowly avoiding smashing against the edge of one of the crates lying around. To say you were shaken was a bit of an understatement, despite not a moment later, the normal smooth flight pattern returning and the ship righting itself. Did Mando hit something? Was some part of the ship on the verge of breaking down completely? You did a quick sweep to make sure none of the weapons lockers were damaged and that nothing was in danger of going ogg. You swore, this man had far too much firepower on board and one day it was going to come back and bite him.
Fortunately, everything was where it should be and the only things really out of place was your now-askew space, and your frazzled self. Huffing, you sped over to the ladder and clambered up to the cockpit to see if you could find out what was going on. On your way up, you could hear the low, modulated voice of Mando speaking, very likely to the child with the tone you could pick up.
“Ready to lay low and stretch your legs for a couple months, you little womp rat? Nobody’s gonna find us there.”
“Nobody’s gonna find us where?” Your head and shoulders were poking out of the ladder hatch, arms folding over the edge as you gave the pair a pointed look. You weren’t about to let Mando decide where you were going to camp out for months without you giving some input.
The Mandalorian turning to face you with the child in his lap was almost comical, like they’d been caught doing something they weren’t expecting to be called out on. You didn’t see any sign of concern over whatever had shaken you down below, so you figured you could bring that up later.
You could see a holomap beyond Mando, though it was too far for you to make out any of the text on it. You dragged yourself the rest of the way into the cockpit, righting yourself and coming to a halt just far enough that you could read the screen.
“An outer rim planet.” He leaned aside and let you read the screen’s details. Sorgan, huh. You vaguely remember that name from when you were compiling planets for Mando back when this whole mess started. The details past that escaped you, though. You squinted as you read on. No populations outside of small settlements to speak of, no starports or anything industrial… and it was one of those planets made up of a single biome - swamp.
To be honest, you weren’t thrilled at the idea of actually camping out for so long in such a place. You were so accustomed to being in places that had somewhat larger settlements, and absolutely more tech than this planet likely had, not just for business but simple things like staying entertained. But you were even less thrilled at the fact that this was a  swamp  planet. You knew not all swamp planets were the same, but the simple holomap readout didn’t indicate any further details about what kind of swamps it was made up of.
You hope above all things it’s not a bog planet like Nal Hutta. Gaseous atmosphere, skies choked by sickly green clouds, brown water, hardly any land to speak of.
You turned and gave Mando a look. “No information about the biome past ‘swamp’?”
He shook his head in that slow, deliberate way of his. You exhaled through your nose.
“Not a fan of swamps?”
“You could say that.” You turned back to the screen, like staring at it might make it give up more information.  Maker , you missed your database.
“How far away are we?”
“Not very, maybe an hour or two.”
You stepped back and fell unceremoniously into one of the passenger seats further back in the cockpit. The child, who had been watching you through this whole exchange, seemed to lose his interest once you sat down and went back to looking curiously around at the controls laid out in front of Mando. You could almost see the cogs turning in his head, and you started to suspect he had something to do with the ship going sideways earlier. Probably got a hold of the controls somehow.
“I guess I’ll have a better idea of where we’re going once we get a look at the planet.”
The Mandalorian nodded, and turned back to the controls to pilot you all there.
You had been closer than you anticipated, though it was still not a very short journey. Instead of going back down to the hull, you opted to stay in the passenger seat and simply wait. Jumping to hyperspace was something you had yet to get used to, but after so long of the smooth traveling with the smears of light streaking past the windscreens, you found you could relax a little and rest your eyes.
A jolt in the ship as you exited hyperspace shook you awake. Blinking and sitting up in your chair, you peered out the window at the planet taking up the view.
Deep green. Streaks of blue. White cloud cover. You breathed a sigh of relief and slumped back against the chair back.
“Acceptable?” There was a hint of amusement in Mando’s voice. You smirked at him.
“Yeah, I’m fine with it.” You actually were looking forward a little to seeing just what kind of plant life was on this planet. You could see a fair amount of tree coverage, which meant forests. It had been far too long since you’d seen proper forests, let alone been out in one. You had tried to replicate it with your plant corner back home, but it was never the same. Some time amongst real trees would do you good.
The descent had you watching out the window the whole time, surveying the landscape as its features came into view. It had its marshes and rivers, but equal amounts of coniferous forests and solid land. This place could almost pass for an arboreal biome planet in places. You spotted very few settlements on the way in, too, and what you did see looked to be the most basic of small villages.
Mando landed the Razor Crest some ways away from a small market, hidden amongst ample tree coverage. He locked down the controls and lifted the kid with one arm, removing a small silver ball from his clutches to attach to one of the levers in the array.
“I’m going to go out and find us some lodging. Wait here with the kid. Don’t let him touch anything. I’ll be back.”
He passed the child off to you, with such surety that you’d take him that he nearly dropped the little one on you before you could respond. You grabbed him with both hands in a slight panic, thinking he was about to fall, and in doing so your fingers gripped into the gloved ones already supporting his weight. Even with the barrier between skin-to-skin contact, it was awkward and had your face heating with embarrassment that you’d accidentally touched the bounty hunter. He, however, made no indication of any such reaction, damn that helmet making him unreadable. His hands withdrew once it was certain the child was in your grasp safely.
You and the child stared at each other as you held him out before you, like you weren’t sure what to do with him now. He looked back at you with a similar expression, and you swore there was a hint of some sort of mischief underneath it. Oh, he had definitely  been the one to make the ship go off-kilter, no doubt now. And knowing your luck, he was going to do more of the same once Mando left. You’d already experienced him trying to eat trash despite you actively watching him, you knew he was capable of more.
Mando descended the ladder into the hold, and the sound of the ramp opening up reached the cockpit. You looked out the windscreen, watching as the Mandalorian appeared in your field of view just as the sound of the ramp closing itself back up sounded.
And that was all it took.
The child turned into a complete nightmare the instant it was clear Mando was gone. It didn’t matter what you did - first he fussed and squirmed to be let down, so you did, and the second you turned your head he had somehow managed to get into the pilot’s seat and was attempting to mess with the controls. Every time you picked him up, he fussed again, wriggling and whining loudly, and whenever you set him back down he went straight for whatever he knew he could get in trouble for. You tried to keep this up as long as you could, which proved to be a pathetic five minutes or so. It was like having an extra-smart, extra-naughty loth cat with thumbs on board.
“Okay, kid. We’re going down to the hold. You can’t accidentally start the ship up down there.” You snatched the kid up under his armpits, and though he continued fussing, it was much less, like perhaps he wanted to be in the hold. You knew that the hold had just as much, if not more, for him to get into trouble with, what with the armory down there, but it was better than possibly starting up the engines and taking off.
You awkwardly climbed down the ladder with one arm latched around the child, and once you reached the floor you set him down, hoping he’d behave a little more. How wrong you were. It was like the kid instinctively knew where the controls for the ramp were, because he made a beeline for that panel - knocking whatever he could out of the way just to accentuate his point - and reached his-far-too-short arms into the air like he could possibly reach it if he just tried hard enough. No amount of you trying to redirect his attention or picking him up to set him down elsewhere worked, he would cry and go straight back to the panel and give you repeated looks with big, desperate eyes, like you were a monster for not understanding he wanted to open the door.
“Mando told us to stay here. So we’re going to stay here until he gets back.”
It was when the loud crying started that you knew you had lost the battle.
That alone was one of your top reasons for not desiring children - you couldn’t handle the noise that came with an upset child. Not for any good parental reason like not wanting to see them sad. You genuinely couldn’t stand the screaming, it set you on edge and made  you want to scream in turn. And here one was, cries bouncing off the hull walls and drilling into your eardrums with far more force than you could have imagined possible for something so small.
You rushed as fast as you could towards the control panel and slammed the button to open the ramp.
“OKAY!  Okay, okay, you win, we’ll go find him.” You glared down at the kid, whose clear face and perked ears indicated the crying had all been an act. You sighed heavily. He’d only known you for maybe a few days and he already knew how to get you to do what he wanted.
“He’s not going to be happy, you know that, right.” The child just tilted his head at you, smug little face seeming to say “no, he can’t get mad at me”.
You wandered back to your area not too far off to get some of your outerwear on - your belt, your ear piece, your blaster, whatever you might need in the immediate future. The neck gaiter you loosely wore got pulled up to securely cover the lower half of your face - it made you feel more secure, somehow, when you were venturing out into strange places. You picked the kid up and awkwardly shifted him to one arm, making your way down the ramp, and hoping you wouldn’t get into  too  much trouble with the bounty hunter. The kid, meanwhile, happily burbled in your grasp.
With a deep sigh and a roll of your eyes, you marched out onto the planet’s surface in the direction you had seen Mando go.
-
You were right. Mando wasn’t happy at all.
He had been trudging along, lost in his thoughts about what kind of lodging he should be looking for now that there wasn’t just him, but you and a child to account for, but still attentive enough to his surroundings that when he heard what sounded like distant footsteps crunching through the undergrowth he paused.
It was when he heard the sounds of the child babbling and you calling out to him to wait that his wariness turned to mild panic, and he rushed towards where he could hear your voices, hand staying within reaching range of his blaster. What had happened? He told you to stay back at the Crest and yet here you were, with the child. Had you been discovered, and just barely escaped? Was the Razor Crest captured?
He came to a halt just a few feet from you, surveying you and the child for any signs of distress or damage, stance wary and ready for a fight.
“What happened?” His tone was terse, apprehensive.
You looked wryly down at the bright-eyed child in your grasp, and back up at the bounty hunter. Or rather, somewhere in the general vicinity of him, as you found you couldn’t look directly at him.
“He, uh. Was very upset at you leaving without him.”
Mando’s defensive posture deflated and he tilted his head in a way that you  knew  he was giving you a disbelieving look.
“I told you to stay put, and the kid throwing a fit is all it took for you to leave?” He didn’t miss the way your mouth tightened into a thin line and your brow furrowed.
“He wouldn’t stop trying to be destructive, and when I tried to move him he’d just scream and go for the ramp! Look, I  told  you I wasn’t the best out there with kids.” You snapped, glaring into the blank visor.
Honestly, he could tell you were disappointed in yourself for caving so easily, and he probably wouldn’t have fared much better with his own lack of experience with children. But you could have been followed, and now the ship was unattended. The child, however, looked content as ever, his plan having worked. He sighed. It was what it was at this point. At least he was still in range that could lock the ship up remotely with his vambrace controls, which he set to doing immediately.
“Come on, then.” He motioned with a hand as he turned back to the direction he had come from, cape swirling around his form dramatically. You exchanged a tired glance with the smug kid, having half a mind to set him down and make him walk the rest of the way to wherever you were going.
“You’re lucky you’re at least a little cute.”
By the time you get to civilization, you’d let the kid down to walk - just beside Mando, and you just behind the child. Two unlikely bodyguards for an equally unlikely “dignitary”. The towering trees thinned out on the edge of the small market center, man-made structures beginning to appear. The buildings were small, mostly made of wicker and wood, with very little in the way of tech. The people were equally simple, their dress and presentation reflecting their rural occupations.
With the interest of the child in mind, Mando led the three of you into a common house, the busy sounds of kitchen work and the smell of grilling food easily reaching you before you even got to the entrance. It would have been more welcoming, if it wasn’t also accompanied by nearly everyone turning their eyes to your odd trio and whispering amongst themselves. On one hand, you couldn’t completely blame them, as the three of you were like the lead-up to a bad joke come to life. But it still made you very uncomfortable, knowing without a doubt that you were being watched and discussed. You hated the feeling. You self-consciously adjusted the fabric masking your face and furrowed your brow to try and give off the most “do not approach” energy you could, glancing around at the tenants. Not many of them returned your gaze, save a few, including one woman who didn’t at all look like she was from there. Strong, wearing armor and weapons - not to the extent of the Mandalorian, of course. But you could still feel that she wasn’t to be messed with. You averted your gaze quickly.
The child, meanwhile, was bright as ever with this new place he was in. He looked around the establishment, taking in the new scenery and the light filtering in through the gaps of the woodwork with his big eyes. You in turn watched him, as Mando located a table for the three of you. You followed suit and sat at the table, and as you turned to see what the kid was up to, you noticed the little one had locked eyes with a tooka cat beneath the chair of a nearby tenant. The child was curious, but you knew enough about tooka cats to know that the way it was looking back meant it was interpreting the child’s staring as threatening to its peace. Very few animals took maintaining eye contact as anything but a challenge, and this was no different.
“Leave it alone, kid.” You murmured just loud enough that you hoped he’d hear. Your words were too late, as the cat’s lips pulled back and revealed its enormous maw of teeth in a menacing hiss. The child flinched back with a frightened noise, and next thing you knew you were snatching him up by the ruff of his oversized coat and plopping him in the seat beside you.
There was barely any time for any of you to exchange glances when a proprietor approached the table, face weathered but welcoming.
“Welcome, travelers. Can I interest you in anything?”
“Bone broth, for the little one.” Mando motioned with his hand towards the child. You suppressed giving the armored man a skeptical look for ordering the most basic of things for the kid, when it was obvious they had more substantial food in this establishment. It was fine, you told yourself, he had the final say and this wasn’t the place to call him out on his decisions.
“Oh, well, you’re in luck. I just took down a grinjer, so there’s plenty. Can I interest you in a porringer of broth as well?” Mando shook his head. The proprietor turned her gaze to you expectantly.
“No, thank you.” You put your palm out in a placating gesture. Even though the aroma of food filtered through your face covering and had a tempting quality to it, somewhere as public as this was absolutely not somewhere you’d be comfortable trying to eat at. If you could take it to go, maybe. But you had no idea where you’d even be staying at this point, or how much longer you’d be looking for such a place. No, you could wait.
The proprietor nearly began to speak again when Mando cut her off. “That one over there, when did she arrive?”
So, you hadn’t been the only one to notice the intimidating woman across the room. Well, it wasn’t that difficult, with how much she stuck out amongst the residents of the planet. You three were equally as noticeable, and you didn’t miss how the woman was still watching you, though she was trying to be discreet about it. There was wariness coming off of her, you could feel that much.
The proprietor glanced towards where Mando had indicated the strange woman to be, seemingly confused. “Uh, I’ve seen her here for the last week or so.”
Mando continued pressing her for answers she didn’t have. “What’s her business here?”
“Business?” The proprietor looked as confused as ever. “Well, there’s not much business on Sorgan, so I can’t say…” The sound of credits clinking onto the countertop reached in your ears as Mando casually tossed some onto the tabletop. You were too busy watching the woman out of your peripheral vision to pay too much attention to what he was up to. The proprietor mentioned the woman not being a log runner, and offered complimentary spotchka before she left to retrieve the order.
The moment the woman stood and moved to leave the common house, you discreetly rapped your knuckle against Mando’s vambrace. The black T of his visor turned towards you, and you vaguely twitched your fingers in the direction the woman had been moments before. “She’s leaving.” You murmured as lowly as you could so Mando could hear but others couldn’t. You didn’t get any impression of real danger or malice from her, but knowing that the three of you had prices on your heads, you had a feeling the bounty hunter would try to follow her and make sure she wasn’t about to report on your whereabouts to anyone.
Mando stood from his seat, gaze trained on the doorway to the establishment. “Stay here with the kid. I’ll be back.”
And there it was. You exhaled through your nose and looked down at the kid, comically small in his chair and watching as the beskar-clad man made his way to the exit and out of sight.
You wondered how often he went out of his way to pick possible fights like this.
The proprietor returned to the table and placed a small bowl in front of the child, breaking you from your thoughts. The complimentary bottle of spotchka made an appearance, too, but you didn’t pay much mind to it. Alcohol was never something you liked, between it being an acquired taste and dulling your thoughts. You still nodded appreciatively at her before she left to tend to the next table.
Before the kid could finish picking up his bowl, the faintest of sounds reached your ears. While you normally wouldn’t pay much mind to such things in a public place, there was some notion in your mind that it was the buckethead getting into a fight with the woman from earlier. You looked over at your tiny companion, who looked up at you over the brim of his bowl and towards the doorway Mando had left through moments earlier.
“He doesn’t need our help, we’ll just get in the way.”
The kid seemed to take that as a challenge, and hopped down from his seat and began to toddle off.
“Hey, no, we are  not going out there-” You jumped up and tried to herd him back towards the table, and you almost succeeded, but the little green thing was surprisingly determined and avoided your awkward movements, both of you caught up in a ridiculous dance. The tenants were watching you and your face heated with embarrassment. You finally scooped up the rapscallion with one arm, narrowly avoiding some of the broth sloshing from his bowl and onto the floor.
“Fine, we’ll go see what’s going on. Just stop trying to run off on me.” You pointed meaningfully at the kid with your index finger, peering into those big dark eyes and hoping he actually listened. He looked back at you with those big bright eyes and perked ears in a way that somehow told you he understood.
You carefully set him back on the ground. “Stay close.”
Exiting the establishment and turning the corner was as far as you needed to go to see just what you suspected - Mando and the woman scrabbling to get the upper hand against the other. It was almost comical, in a way, even though blasters were involved and the situation could very well turn dangerous.
And it nearly did just that when the two fell on the ground with blasters pointed at each other’s heads -  causing you to pull your own blaster from its holster - except everything was interrupted by a very loud slurp from the child as he watched from beside you, bowl of broth clutched tightly. The slow turns of their heads and prolonged look from both of them was enough of an announcement of a stalemate as any. You snorted and shook your head slightly at the scene.
“I take it you don’t actually want to kill each other, then.” You slightly lowered your blaster from where it was aimed at the woman. You didn’t miss the way Mando paused in a way that you imagined he was rolling his eyes under his helmet. He turned his attention back to the woman he was still vaguely pointing his blaster at.
“Would you like some soup?”
-
You all returned to the table you’d had back in the common house. The woman - named Cara Dune, you learned - told you her story. She was a former shock trooper for the former Rebel Alliance working on Endor, with no additional support, and as soon as the ex-Imperials were gone the politics got out of hand and she found herself working to “keep the peace”. Beating rioters and favoring delegates wasn’t what she’d signed up for, so she left, and now had a price of her own for desertion. She recognized Mando as being part of the Guild and suspected he’d come looking for her. She kept glancing curiously at you throughout her explanation, like she wasn’t sure what to make of you tagging around with a Mandalorian bounty hunter and why he was even letting it happen. Sure, the child was an equally puzzling factor, but she seemed to sense he was a touchy subject.
She eventually turned to you after her explanation was finished. “So what’s your story?”
You shrugged, idly adjusting one of your wrist pieces. “He got my house blown up and put me on a wanted list, so this is his way of dealing with the guilt.”
Cara visibly bites back a laugh and tries to hide behind her own cup of broth. You glance over at your companion, whose stiff posture tells you he’s not sure how to react, but he’s definitely embarrassed to some degree.
The ex-trooper downs the last of her broth, and stands from the table. “Well, this has been a real treat. But unless you wanna go another round, one of us is gonna have to move on, and I was here first.” She gives you all a curt nod, and walks away.
Mando leans back in his own chair and looks between you and the kid, who’s working on his second helping of broth. “Well, looks like this planet’s taken.”
-
The walk back to the Razor Crest was a somber one for you. Now that you had spent some time on the surface, you’d actually taken a bit of a liking to the place. But Mando was right - as remote as this planet was, it could likely only handle one fugitive at a time. Looked like it was back to the ship directory to root through whatever systems it could access. You tried not to let your mind wander off to mourn your lost database again. This was exactly why you compiled lists of multiple options, in case something like this happened and one of those choices fell through.
A tug on your pant leg dragged you from your mulling. You looked down and were met with the concerned face of the child looking back up at you.
“I’m okay, don’t worry about me.” The kid burbled quietly at you in response. That seemed to catch Mando’s attention, as he was now looking questioningly back at you.
“Something wrong?”
You exhaled through your nose, trying to come up with a brief answer that wasn’t too revealing. You weren’t big on talking about your feelings, and you got the impression that neither was Mando, so between the two of you it would be better if it was kept to a minimum.
“Feeling a little useless on the front of hunting for a planet, that’s all.” It was the first time you’d felt this useless in a  very  long time, to be honest, but you weren’t about to let that part out.
Mando turned back to continue the trek back to the Razor Crest. “We’ll figure something out.” His tone was superficially dull, but you could tell he was trying in his own way to sound reassuring. That counted for something.
Once you made it back to the Crest, which was safe and sound amongst the trees, the two of you got to work - the Mandalorian using the dying daylight to look over the ship for maintenance, while you took up the task of sifting through the planetary database for your next options. Originally Mando wanted you to take the child up with you so he’d be better contained, but after a pitiful look from those big, dark eyes, it was over and decided that he’d watch him. The “watching” very quickly turned into “put the kid to bed”, thank the maker.
It felt like you’d had barely any time to really start your search when you saw what looked like lights on the ground from your view in the cockpit. You slowly stood, watching the lights as they drew nearer. That couldn’t be anything good.
You clambered your way down the ladder and into the hold just as whoever it was pulled up. It was a small cargo sled, one that barely seemed to be holding itself together, with two men of seemingly modest origins on it. Mando wasn’t the least bit concerned about it, as he continued his repairs and ignore them as they tried to get his attention.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Mando didn’t stop working. “There something I can help you with?”
You slowly made your way towards the ramp, taking care to accentuate the sound of your boots hitting the floor and make your presence known, Mando could take care of himself, but if they knew you were here they were less likely to try anything than if he were alone. You shot them a warning glare when they glanced at you, but watching their already-anxious expressions deepen almost made you regret doing so.
“Uh… yeah… raiders.” “We have money.”
You raised an eyebrow at them.
“You think I’m some kind of mercenary?” Mando still made no indication he was going to stop his work for them.
That was enough to get them stammering. First about how they’d read about Mandalorians, and how they thought he was one based on his armor, and if half of what they read was true then they could recruit him for help. One emphasized again, that they had money.
“How much?” Mando had paused his working, turning more attention to these strangers.
“Everything we have, sir. Our whole harvest was stolen.”
“Krill… We’re… krill farmers.” “We brew spotchka. Our whole village chipped in.”
You don’t know what else you were expecting from locals of the planet, but the coin purse one of the men held up as proof of payment was sad to say the least. Krill farming and spotchka brewing didn’t strike you as a very lucrative business anyways, but if that was all they could muster…?
“It’s not enough.” And there was Mando, confirming your suspicions about what his rates were. You didn’t recall him being picky about his bounty, but thinking back, he did go for higher bounties more often than not. It looked like he still held onto that standard despite no longer being part of the Guild. Hell, if you were going by your own rates, what they appeared to have on hand wouldn’t even cover half of your cheapest services.
Mando finished what he’d been doing and made his way up the ramp towards you. The men following him up the ramp was unexpected, but not frightening. They were desperate, and you were getting a better sense of just how much.
“Are you sure? You don’t even know what the job is.” One of them tried to look to you for support. You stared back apprehensively.
“I know it’s not enough. Good luck.” Mando brushed past you, using your form as a barrier between him and the strangers as he retreated further into the hold.
“This is everything we have! We’ll give you more after the next harvest!” You stayed where you were, crossing your arms and staring the men down. You knew you should feel bad for them and try to convince Mando to do something, but with the last time you extended help ending with your entire life up to that point being destroyed, you were too wary to do so.
The two men looked between each other and your standoffish presence. Defeated, they slowly turned to return to their sled, talking to each other as they did.
“Took us the whole day to get here. Now we have to ride back with no protection to the middle of nowhere.”
Mando had only made it a few feet past you by then, so he was definitely within earshot of their conversation. He stopped and turned on his heel, coming up behind you and stopping just behind your shoulder. It took everything in your power to appear unbothered by just how close he stood.
“Where do you live?”
The men paused, turning back to look at the man that had just dismissed them.
“A farm, weren’t you listening? We’re farmers.” The hurt was apparent in the man’s voice.
“In the middle of nowhere.”
“…yes?” The confusion was palpable. You knew where this was going and you weren’t sure you liked it.
“You have lodging?”
The men started to realize where this was going, too, and jumped to provide answers he wanted to hear.
“Yes, absolutely.” Mando briefly glanced at you, as if he was about to ask what you thought. Unfortunately for you, that never happened and he made the decision on his own.
“Good.” Mando motioned to them. “Come up and help.” He motioned to you as well, and began pulling out cargo crates to have them start loading.
You approached the man, once the other men had carried one of the crates far enough that they’re out of hearing range.
“Mando, I don’t know about this. Middle of nowhere or not, Dune’s right, this planet can’t handle more than one fugitive at a time.”
Mando continued moving crates to the ramp. “If it took them all day to get here, they’ll be isolated enough.”
“That kind of distance from civilization, however small, hasn’t stopped bounty hunters before. You of all people know that.” You glared into the T-shape of his visor. You also knew that all it took was enough time for word to get out about sighting a certain beskar-clad Mandalorian traveling with a green child to reach interested ears. For all you knew, it could be happening right now.
Mando stopped his actions to turn and face you fully.
“We can always move on after the job if it doesn’t seem right.”
You sighed heavily through your nose. That seemed to be him trying to tell you he wasn’t about to change his mind. He  had  been doing this longer than you, you supposed. You glanced towards the closed door of his bunk, where the child was sleeping.
“…fine. But I’ll hold you to that.”
You briskly moved to where your makeshift corner was and started gathering up your own things for whatever sort of stay you were in for. Behind you, you heard Mando exchange a few more words with the men as they loaded the last of the cargo he’d pushed on them onto the sled.
His heavy footsteps approached you. “I’m going back into town for a while.” You turned, and noticed the pouch of credits that one of the men had shown you earlier clutched in his hand. “Stay here to keep an eye on them and the kid. I’ll be back.”
You stared at him for a moment, then nodded slightly. “At least he’s not awake to make me come chasing after you this time.”
You swore you heard a slight snort from beneath that helmet.
-
He’d returned some time later with Cara Dune in tow, and after rousing the kid the four of you joined the two men on their journey back to their village. The cargo sled, thank the maker, was the only part of the ride, no connections made with another transport like a boat like you were fearing. You didn’t like boats much, the swaying made you anxious. Five people made it a little crowded and awkward, and try as you might to sit as far as you could on some strapped-down cargo, to try and preserve some sense of personal space, you found yourself nearly falling off one too many times.
“That’s a good way to fall off and get left behind.”
You narrowed your eyes as you stared at the beskar-clad man that had basically just talked to you like a parent.
“It’s fine. I don’t want to get in anyone’s way.”
The way he tilted his head was enough for you to practically see the skeptical look he was no doubt wearing on his hidden face. The kid, sitting beside him, watched you intently.
“Nobody’s doing anything but waiting out the ride.” He pointed to a spot on the cargo just in front of him, where there was definitely enough room for you to fit, though it meant if you tried to stretch your legs out they’d be right alongside his. Clearly, he didn’t care about that if he was doing this.
You stared at the spot like it was a trap. Almost as if to prove a point, the sled went over a particularly pronounced piece of terrain and jostled you. You very nearly fell just like Mando had said you would. The only thing that kept you from going completely overboard was your grip on the cargo’s ties, but you still flopped embarrassingly around. You saw the man’s head tilt to the side as if to say “see?”
Defeated and embarrassed, you clambered down into the open area. Thank the maker Cara Dune had decided to try and get some sleep earlier, and the two farmers transporting you were busy navigating. You didn’t think you could handle having them involved in this, admittedly silly, exchange. You kept your gaze down, not daring to even look up at the Mandalorian. The kid, however, earned himself something between a glare and a smirk when you heard a small giggle come from his direction.
You drew your legs up into your new space, both to keep from invading even more of Mando’s space, and to keep out of the child’s space as well. Mando could handle an accidental kick if you absent-mindedly shuffled; the little green one probably wouldn’t fare so well.
Once you’d settled, you leaned back onto the cargo packed behind you and tried to get as comfortable as you could manage. Which wasn’t much. Mando, however, seemed capable of doing it, as he slowly fell backwards and folded his arms behind his head. You didn’t realize how  broad he was until now, seeing up close how much space he took up just by doing that. And all over again, you felt like you were in his space, and needed to get out of it out of respect. But there was nowhere to go.
You had to snort to yourself when the child mimicked the bounty hunter and tipped backwards onto his much-softer surroundings, peering up at the dark sky with equally dark eyes. At least he was content to do that.
The sled ride stretched on for the duration of the night and into the morning, the farmers switching shifts partway through. You’d never really fallen asleep all the way, just dozed in the same position you took when you initially settled in. Your eyes had closed, and you became somewhat less aware of your surroundings, but the slightest of unusual sounds or movements still drew enough attention that you’d crack an eye open to see what was happening. All through the hours of darkness and through the light breaking over the land. So when the sled began to approach the village, you could hear it. The sounds of people working, distant voices. Opening your eyes and pushing yourself upright, you turned to look up ahead. In the distance you could see the beginnings of some sort of settlement.
You shifted your attention to the others on the sled. Cara Dune was still sleeping, though you didn’t know how. Mando and the child seemed to be out, as well. It was harder to tell with the bounty hunter because of his helmet, but the way he laid there was convincing.
Reaching over, you lightly grabbed one of the child’s clawed feet and shook it to get his attention.
“Get up, kiddo.”
He blinked awake, eyes squinting in the morning light and mouth working to remedy having gone dry while he slept with it open the night before. His big eyes shifted around to look for his Mandalorian guardian, body relaxing once he located him.
You weren’t going to try and use touch to see if  he was awake, though. That could get you stabbed or shot, what with the combination of his reflexes and waking up in a strange place.
“Mando.” You raised your voice, hoping volume alone would do the trick. Fortunately for you, it did. The man shifted and groaned like he had just come alive, his helmet shifted ever so slightly and you could tell he was looking at you.
“We’re there.”
The armored man slowly drew himself upright into a sitting position. As much as he’d tried to get comfortable, he knew he’d be fighting with a back ache for a while after sleeping like he had. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t already dealt with before, with his longer bounty hunts taking him far from his ship and civilization and requiring him to put comfort to the wayside. You, however, had probably not had to relegate yourself to such circumstances. You looked like you hadn’t actually slept, bags present beneath your eyes and a subtle, narrow-eyed scowl he hadn’t seen before on your face. You probably didn’t even know it was there.
The approach to the village was quickly noticed by the villagers, and before you knew it there was a crowd forming to welcome you.
And a lot of them were children.
You could see and hear them immediately. You squeezed your eyes shut and exhaled through your nose for a moment to steel yourself, both for the crowd and the large percentage of it being so young. You hadn’t even had a chance to really get used to the green child you were tasked with helping out with. And these kids could  talk .
The sled came to a stop, the slight jarring motion shaking Cara Dune awake. She looked around, mind working to remember the circumstances that landed her in a strange vehicle with equally strange company.
The first thing the children of the crowd did, was fixate on the child companion of yours in the sled. They were all murmuring and giggling amongst themselves, and the kid looked back at them with equally curious intent. None of you had any idea when he was last around anyone of his mentation.
“Looks like they’re happy to see us.” You heard Mando’s voice crackle through his voice modulator. Cara Dune smiled, but all you could do was blink tiredly. You weren’t ready for this.
One of the children, a girl,  broke away from the crowd and got closer to the smaller, green child, greeting him personally. You watched the interaction carefully. She seemed to notice, as she quickly made eye contact and ducked away back into the safety of the other village children.
With that, everyone disembarked the sled and began unloading cargo. You slowly rose from your spot, knees protesting from staying folded for so long and making you grit your teeth. You grabbed the pack you’d brought with you, slinging it over your shoulder and hobbling off of the sled to join the others, who were carrying their respective luggage. The child had been surrounded by the village kids, the curiosity on both sides still strong and outweighing the apprehension of the strangers with him.
It was time to be shown where you’d be staying, though. Without any words exchanged, Mando shuffled over to gather up the child, kids scattering, and you, Cara Dune, and he were led to your accommodations.
The village was modest, but cozy. The huts all had a distinct charm to them, with the same woven look as the common house, and reminding you of fishing baskets. Smoke rose from some, and in the distance you could make out man-made ponds where they likely farmed their krill.
You were all led to what appeared to be a building other than a hut. There’s a woman there, apparently putting the last touches on preparing it for guests. When she sees you approaching, she stops fussing with the blinds and turns to face you. You don’t miss how she’s focused in on the Mandalorian, with some sense of hesitation, like she wasn’t anticipating how meeting a Mandalorian in person would be. You couldn’t blame her, honestly.
“Please, come in.” You let Mando lead, watching him walk in and put his cargo down onto the floor. The woman turned and seemed mildly surprised when you entered as well, like she hadn’t really seen you before when you made your approach. Again, you couldn’t blame her - if you’d never met a Mandalorian before, it would be hard to notice anything else. That, and it made sense that should word get out in the village about a Mandalorian arriving, the last thing anyone would talk about would be his companions.
“I apologize… I didn’t realize how many guests there would be.” She glances briefly at you and the child individually. You began to feel guilty about being there at all. Of the adults that were there, you were by far the least useful for the job involving the raiders, and of the resources available for guests you felt like it would be better to distribute them amongst the others before you. The child, too, you felt deserved things before you did. You didn’t miss him looking up at you with his big dark eyes, as if he could sense your discomfort.
“Is, uh, there anywhere else available—“
“This will be fine.”
You give the beskar-clad man a perplexed look when he cuts you off. You were attempting to give the man his space back, surely he would like that better than having you hole up in the same small building?
“It’s not any different from the ship. We’ll make do.” He was looking back at you through that dark visor as if he had heard your thoughts. You blinked.
“Are you sure?”
The curt nod he gave you told you the conversation was over. Well… as long as he was okay with it.
The woman took that as her cue that she could speak again. “I’ve stacked some blankets over there, I can get more should you need them.” She indicated the area she meant. You nodded appreciatively at her.
There’s a very slight sound from the doorway, and both you and Mando turn to see the girl from before that had been talking to the child. She attempted to hide behind the doorframe, bashful about being noticed, but the woman goes to gently pull her back into sight and gently hold her to her side.
“This is my daughter Winta. We don’t get a lot of visitors around here, she’s not used to strangers.” That explains the extra feeling of being watched you’d felt on top of the village at large watching you, this girl must’ve followed along. The woman turned to face her daughter. “This nice man and his friends are going to help protect us from the bad ones.”
Winta looked shyly at you and Mando, and politely whispered a thank you. The woman took her daughter by the hand, leading her outside. “Come on, Winta, let’s give our guests some space.”
Just like that, you were left alone with your usual companions.
You glanced around, seeing that it was essentially just one open room. That wouldn’t do. Whatever Mando told you, you knew he would appreciate having a space to himself. You, also, would appreciate some semblance of privacy.
Speaking of Mando, he hadn’t moved to unpack at all, he continued to stand in place as he tried to process what he’d gotten himself into. He’d done plenty of jobs, with plenty of clients, but he wasn’t at all used to being treated like a “nice man”, as the woman had put it. He didn’t know how he was supposed to fee about it.
His buffering was briefly interrupted when you pushed past him into the barn, and began to root through the blankets that had been left and other supplies that had been pushed off to the side to make space.
“I’m going to build some sort of divide for the room. To at least make it feel like there are two rooms instead of one.” You began draping things over your shoulders and arms as you found them, and looking up at the ceiling and the walls to see what you had to work with. Part of him wanted to tell you to just sit down for now, since he could tell you weren't rested at all from the night before. But he also felt like he wouldn’t be able to stop you from your current activity until you’d finished it. He resigned himself to getting his cargo unpacked.
What he doesn’t know, is you were also trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. You had noticed how the woman had briefly paused in the doorway as she left to look back - at Mando, and only Mando. You didn’t know why, but something about it bothered you. Was it a look of apprehension and were you offended on his behalf? No, that wasn’t it. It was some other expression that was subtle and layered and happened too fast for you to read. But it still bothered you. You tried to brush it aside and get to working on your new project instead.
-
Before long you had constructed a simple set of walls from various things you’d found around - you’d taken some sheets from the pile of blankets, and used them in conjunction with some netting and poles to fix them to the walls and ceilings similar to what you had done with your space back on the Razor Crest. A crib had been provided for the child, and you moved that onto the “half” that you’d designated Mando’s space - the larger section, and the one with the window. Your “half” was more like your “third” of the bar’s interior. Really, you didn’t mind. Mando had been busy unpacking and reconvening with Cara Dune to offer any input until it was done, anyways.
Later in the day, you’d more or less finished unpacking what little you’d brought, and Mando was tending to his rifle. You sat on a crate, idly fussing with the settings on your blaster, musing to yourself if you could possibly bother the bounty hunter in the future for something more substantial.
“Knock, knock.”
The woman from earlier stood at the door with a tray of a few plates of food in hand, her daughter in tow. You could see them, but their attention was turned to Mando and the child, who was standing in his crib. “Come in.” Mando’s voice sounded from beyond the divide in the room.
The woman entered, setting the tray down on a nearby surface and picking up a plate from it. Winta stepped forwards shyly, asking if she could feed the child. Mando wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but he didn’t see a problem with it. “Sure.”
You watched from just around the edge of the divide, as the girl first knelt to feed the child, and then asked if she could play with him. Mando seemed just as fond of dealing with kids as you, hearing his sigh and flat “sure” in response. You smirked at that.
Once Mando had set the child on the ground, Winta immediately darted out the doorway with the child in tow. Mando started to protest, but the woman held him back. You didn’t know why, it was such a simple thing and she was coming from a place of experience where he had none, but for some reason… it made you bristle slightly. You felt like she was overstepping her bounds somehow. You shook your head briefly. She didn’t know any better, it was fine.
The woman then reached for one of the plates of food, to set on a surface closer to where Mando had been maintaining his rifle. “I brought you some food, I noticed you didn’t eat out there. I’ll leave it here for when I go.” Mando awkwardly thanked her, and moved to turn away.
You were hoping she would leave, then, but she didn’t. Instead, she asked if she could ask Mando a question. With his approval, she continued.
“How long has it been since you’ve taken that off?”
Oh, the helmet question. That was bound to happen sooner or later, honestly. You hoped she didn’t say anything too intrusive or insensitive.
“Yesterday.”
“I mean in front of someone else.”
The air felt heavy. You couldn’t quite see from your position where he was looking, but you saw him motion through the window towards what might have been the child and Winta, and other children based on the sounds of play you could hear.
“I wasn’t much older than they are.”
The woman sounded almost horrified that he hadn’t shown his face to anyone since then. The bounty hunter protested, saying that after his parents had been killed, the Mandalorians had taken him in and cared for him as their own.
It’s not like you knew what his past was, or what you expected it to be, but hearing it like this was like a punch to the gut. It was a horrible thing for him to have gone through at all, let alone as a child. You arguably had only just been getting to know him, but the fact that this woman he had never met before was able to get this fact out of him at all, let alone such a personal fact, stung. He had told you earlier that he’d trusted you. That should’ve been enough, and should’ve stopped you from having your thoughts run loose like they were.
“...I’m sorry.” The woman sounded genuinely sad.
“This is the way.”
“Let us know if there’s anything you need.”
Finally, she left. It did not escape you, though, that she hadn’t stopped to see if you had been there to let you know that she had brought you some food, as well, as you also had not left to go get food since arriving. That hurt a little bit, but with the way the prior exchange had gone it probably just slipped her mind. It wasn’t her fault. She was being a good host, she still brought it, didn’t she? You could swear, though, that she seemed to feel some sort of draw towards the bounty hunter and was acting on it in small ways. And you could not figure out why it bothered you.
Once she had left completely, you quietly crept out from behind the divide to retrieve your own plate. Mando was still standing before the window, watching the kids playing with the child. The woman now approached the crowd, no doubt to supervise and make sure they weren’t being too rough. You felt his eyes turn to you slightly.
“I uh… I’m sorry. About what happened in your past. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t not hear that part.”
Mando inclined his head for a moment, and then looked back up at you. “It wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have told you if it had come up.”
That lifted your mood a bit. Plate in hand, you wandered over to stand before the window, not too close but beside where Mando stood, to watch the kids.
“Looks like he’s having fun.” Mando hummed in agreement, arms folded.
You don’t notice, but the Mandalorian had turned his head ever so slightly to look at you without giving away that that’s what he was doing. He’s usually not the best at reading people, but he could tell that something about the interaction he had just had with the woman had upset you somehow - he also had not missed how she had left after speaking with him and hadn’t tried to see if you were around to speak to you, as well. This was a different kind of upset than what he had seen when you were first on his ship, after your home had been destroyed. He didn’t like it then, and he didn’t like this now. He realized didn’t like seeing you upset, or to be linked to the reason you were upset.
The two of you stood there for a few more moments, watching the villagers and the child play. You cleared your throat.
“Well, I still don’t like eating around others. I’m going to my ‘room’.” Mando felt a small smile flicker on his face at that, as you left and went back to your area.
Once you were there, you had been about to pick up a piece of the food when you heard the tell-tale sound of Mando’s helmet being removed. You didn’t know if it was the closer proximity or the conversation that had just happened, but you retreated even further into your area until you were as far away as possible, like somehow even being too close while his helmet was off was just as bad as seeing his face.
-
The job turned out to be much more complicated than any of you had thought. Surveying the woods showed that the raiders were in possession of an Imperial AT-ST, a formidable weapon to have even against trained troops, let alone a defenseless krill farm. Cara Dune was especially off-put by it, having seen the mech in action and barely escaping to tell the tale. Mando, blunt as ever, tried to tell the village’s occupants to just leave and find another place on the planet to farm, but that went over horribly - everyone was angry, saying that he’d agreed to the job and that he should keep to it, that they had lived there for generations and it took so long to even get the farm established, and so on. They insisted they could be taught to fight and help take on the raiders, stubborn in not wanting to leave their homes. Somehow, their desperation won over the bounty hunter and ex-shock trooper, and it was decided that the entire village of twenty-odd people would follow Cara Dune’s instructions to modify the village grounds into a battleground to take down the machine, and the raiders in turn.
The biggest hurdle was teaching the villagers how to fight to begin with. Nobody knew how to deal with hand-to-hand combat. None of them - except the woman, whose name was Omera - knew how to fire a blaster.
That also meant that Mando’s entire arsenal he’d brought along with him would be put to use arming everyone.
While Cara Dune was working with melee training her half of the adults, Mando was overseeing the target practice. You were more familiar with firing a blaster than you were with physical fighting, so you were attempting to help in that department, as well. You had certainly fired off your fair share of one-in-a-million hits in the times you’d even had to use your blaster, but you had no idea how you were able to do it. It was just… an instinct, somehow, that kicked in right at the moment it was needed, and would vanish just as quickly before you could even try to comprehend it. Still, though, you could try.
They were terrible.  
Shots were flying and only a small fraction were landing anywhere, and of those, even less were hitting their intended targets. Except for Omera. Every shot she fired landed square in the middle of her target, one after the other. You could see Mando watching her closely, nodding when she turned to look expectantly at him with a slight smile.
It makes you grit your teeth and you don’t know why. He’s allowed to be impressed by someone from a backwater planet being good with a blaster. He was allowed to be impressed by her tenacity to defend her village. He was allowed… and whatever this strange feeling was that you had, wasn’t allowed to get in the way. That was up to him.
You had been walking between the villagers, giving them pointers on how to better aim, but once you’d noticed what you had with the widow and Mando, something shifted in you. And unbeknownst to you, Mando was watching you, probably more than he had been watching Omera. Your eerie accuracy with your own blaster when you fired off and hit the targets, the way you went from person to person to curtly correct their poise, the way your eyes flashed as you stood back and looked from trainee to trainee with a calculating, concentrated look to determine who needed fixing where. This was a new side of you he hadn’t seen. It was intimidating… but in a good way. He caught himself being confused by his own thoughts, and reminded himself sternly that he needed to concentrate on training everyone and getting things ready.
That night, the plan would be executed. Luring the raiders out, having the villagers go hand-to-hand with the raiders while Mando and Cara Dune took care of downing the AT-ST. You hoped it would work.
-
In the weeks following the successful defeat of the raiders and destruction of their AT-ST, you stayed put in the village. You and Mando and the kid didn't have anywhere better to be, and Mando still stood by it being a good place for waiting out the hunt going on for the kid. Unlike Mando, though, you didn't feel completely safe. You still felt like it was only a matter of time before someone came looking. The raiders didn't all get killed, and though they probably hadn't laid eyes on the child, let alone the village's children in general, it would have been difficult for them to miss the beskar-clad man that they went up against. Word was going to get out.
Mando wasn't convinced. There was nothing besides your sense of unease to indicate that sort of thing would happen, and he needed more substance than that to act. And so, you were stuck there for the time being.
So you tried to make do with living during that time.
Mando spent his time being the quiet watchman of the village, keeping his weapons he'd brought along in top condition just in case. It couldn't hurt to stay vigilant. And it helped you be more at ease to know he hadn't completely shrugged off the possibility of danger.
And when he wasn't cleaning his weapons for the millionth time, or making sure the child wasn't getting into too much trouble with the village children, he was watching you.
He noticed the way you'd go sit out at the far edge of the village clearing, by the edge of the water beneath the shade of the trees, scribbling things in the odd flimsiplast book you'd brought along with you. He got curious one day and wandered over to where you were, making the excuse that he was patrolling the perimeter and just happened to be passing by you on his way. He got to see what it was you were doing - you were sketching the huts and ponds, as well as the trees and animals, making notes beside them. You didn't limit your note-taking to sitting out on the edge of the village, either, sometimes you stayed amongst the buildings and watched the locals and made notes about them.
There were more than a few times that the child would break away from the village kids and watch you, too, and there were times you'd tear a page out and let him scribble on it alongside you. It was endearing to watch, though he'd never admit it, how intensely focused the little one would be on mimicking you during those times. He saw you do your best to be social when the rest of the kids would inevitably crowd around the two of you and watch what you were doing, and begin asking questions. They did that to him, too, with his weapons, and he would try to tell them stories he remembered hearing as a child himself. You didn't seem to tell them stories, so much as just facts about how this or that worked, or how things are different on other planets in this or that way. They still seemed to take it in just as well.
When you weren't note-taking, or trying to avoid being swarmed by curious children, you'd be in the village kitchens, taking advantage of having proper cooking facilities outside of the makeshift space on the Razor Crest and trying out local ingredients and recipes. The child was frequently your taste-tester, and he loved every bit of it. There were times that he'd take a bite of something you'd made, and instead of downing the rest of it, he'd look around for Mando, and upon spotting him he'd hurry over with the food in hand, waving it up at him as if to say "try it". He would, of course, wait until he was in the privacy of his own space, but he'd always try it. He had to admit, though he knew the locals had been working with the ingredients for generations and were by no means bad cooks, there was something about your cooking that he liked better. He knew you'd brought along some of your own spices and that you put your own spin on things, but it was deeper than that and he didn't know why.
 He notices that though you try to converse with the locals when appropriate, you frequently retreat to be in his presence and just sit quietly. It starts as you just going back to the barn and him happening to also be there, but over time it evolved into you actively seeking him out in moments where he was apart from the others, wherever that may have been. It was… nice.
 It was also nice that, on some nights where neither of you could sleep, you would wind up quietly talking about this or that through the makeshift wall in the barn that divided your sleeping areas. The conversations were about mundane things, never lasted long, and were always quiet because of the sleeping child nearby. But it was a new thing for him that he found he liked. For so long he had traveled alone and in complete silence, and while there was still a degree of silence and separation between the two of you, it was different.
 The villagers seemed to act like you would just stay there forever. Names were learned, bits and pieces of life stories were swapped, some degree of familiarity was established.
 There was absolutely no way anyone could miss how attentive Omera had become to ensuring you all were still tended to, but especially in regards to Mando. He was civil in return, and you swear he had started to open up to her and go beyond just being polite. You, also, did your best to be civil towards her, but it was difficult for some reason. It was not your place to decide who was allowed to be friends with who, or how they responded to such actions. Not your place to feel put off by another person getting close to arguably the only person you knew beyond vague acquaintance-ship.
  And this didn’t just feel like someone building a friendship, either. You did not know why it bothered you as much as it did. But here you were.
 One day, you, Mando, and Cara Dune were all on the porch of the barn, lounging for lack of a better word. Cara Dune sat reclined in a chair, you on the edge of the porch, and Mando casually leaned back against the wall of the barn. He looked very relaxed and it took you a little more effort than normal not to just stare at the rare sight.
 And then Omera appeared.
 She had been in the barn doing some tidying up, as hosts do. As she exited, she handed a cup of spotchka to Cara Dune, who thanked her, and then she turned to Mando.
 “Can I set you something in the house?” She briefly turned her vision towards you, to indicate the offer was extended to you as well, but it went right back to the bounty hunter before you could answer.
 “Uh… thank you. Maybe later.” He mumbled his answer, awkward as ever. The woman looked back at you, and you shook your head to her offer, not daring to try and open your mouth. She seemed satisfied with that, and turned to watch the village children playing with the child. He’d captured a frog, and wasted no time in stuffing it into his mouth and trying to swallow it like a vine snake. The children laughed and groaned in amused disgust. The frog turned out to be too big for the little one and he spat it out, and everyone cackled as the frog hopped away, no doubt startled by nearly being eaten.
 “He’s very happy here.” Omera’s voice broke the silence on the porch.
 “He is.” The bounty hunter’s voice responded.
 “Fits right in.” And with that, the widow walked away. You watched her leave with narrowly-disguised distaste on your face. The kid was still a target for all you knew, and that little comment implying he should continue to stay just made you realize how little they understood about the consequences that could come their way should the hunters find him. Being able to actually be a child was good, yes, but not at the expense of having another event similar to the raiders, one they wouldn’t have time to plan for.
 Apparently, Cara Dune had some thoughts of her own.
 “So what happens if you take that thing off?” She nodded at Mando, indicating his helmet. “They come after you and kill you?”
 Your distaste turned to her next.
 “No, you just can’t ever put it back on again.” Cara scoffed at his answer. She looked at you to see if you thought it was as ridiculous as she did, a smirk on her face. You narrowed your eyes at her, and her smirk faded a bit. You’d known, and you respected his cultural beliefs not to badger him like she was trying to do.
 “I was gonna say, if that’s it, it wouldn’t be any trouble at all for you to just slip it off and take up living here, raising the kid and sipping spotchka.” She motioned in the direction Omera had left with her glass.
 “The beautiful young widow would be more than happy to help with that.” She looked back at you. “Am I right?”
 Your skin felt like it would scramble right off your body.
 Somehow, hearing Cara Dune confirm that she, too, had seen Omera’s interest in Mando made it all too real in your mind. And she wouldn’t be making such comments if she didn’t think Mando had similar feelings, either.
 Why did it bother you so much?
 You heard your name, realizing she was actually waiting for an answer from you.
 “Yeah, sure.” Your voice was quiet and clipped, a poor attempt to keep your feelings veiled. Cara Dune finally noticed your tense posture, the discomfort very apparent in the line of conversation she’d started up.
 She immediately regretted her teasing about the widow. Unlike you and Mando, she was actually able to read people. Mando may have been oblivious to it, but she could see now that you were more fond of the bounty hunter than she initially thought. She’d sensed some sort of dislike towards Omera from you, with how brief you kept your interactions with her, but this made it make sense. Kriff, you were probably oblivious to it, too.
 Mando’s modulated voice brought her back to the present. “You know, we raised some hell here a few weeks ago. It’s too much action for a backwater town like this. Word travels fast. You might wanna cycle the charts and move on.”
 You leaned your head back, rolling your eyes. “Finally.” You’d only been trying to convince him to do that the moment you’d chased the raiders off. “I thought it was going to take bounty hunters actually showing up to get you to make that decision.”
 You swiveled where you sat to look at the man pointedly. He shook his head lightly. You could almost hear the good-natured smirk under his helmet. You couldn’t help but quirk the corner of your mouth yourself.
 As forward as Omera was with hinting her interest towards Mando, Cara Dune thought, you weren’t too bad of a companion choice for him, either. You might not be the worse of the two, either, as far as the dynamic between you. As long as the buckethead wasn’t alone.
 She looked back to where the kids were all playing. “I wouldn’t want to be the one who’s gotta tell him that it’s time to leave.”
 “I’m leaving him here.”
 You and Cara Dune stared at him.
 “Traveling with me… that’s no life for a kid. I did my job, he’s safe. Better chance at a life here.”
 No. You weren’t going to let him decide that easily.
 “Mando. Do I need to remind you that the kid is being hunted as much as you are?” He started to protest, but you continued, standing up from your seat to face him fully, crossing your arms. “And, like you said, the fight with the raiders will have drawn attention. We sure didn’t kill them all, some got away. ‘Word travels fast’.”
 Mando stared back, at a loss for words, and looked to Cara Dune for backup. She only shrugged, indicating you had a point.
 “...if anyone was going to come, they would have done so by now.”
 You dropped your arms to your sides, an incredulous expression on your face. Really? Really?  
 “Mando-”
 He held up his hand to stop you. Such a simple motion shocked you enough to derail your thoughts. He really wasn’t changing his mind, was he…? Was he that ready to leave the kid behind?
 Was he that ready to be rid of you …?
 Leaving the child here meant your current “job” would no longer exist. It meant having to figure out where to go next, how to start next.
 You weren’t ready for that.
 You looked down at the wood flooring of the porch. You couldn’t figure out how to argue back in a way that didn’t sound selfish. Defeated, you turned away from the beskar-clad man and faced away, looking at the children playing again.
 Mando truly felt like this was the best option for the child at this point. He wasn’t anywhere near an acceptable parental figure, and per your own admission you didn’t do well with kids, either. The kid needed other kids to be around, adults that were willing and happy to raise him. You needed to be able to actually settle down somewhere you could rebuild. This tiny village, with its lack of technology, wasn’t it, and it wasn’t on his cramped ship with his stubborn self, either. You deserved better. He didn’t want to say goodbye to the kid, or to you, but it wasn’t about what he wanted.
 The three of you solemnly watched the child play with the other village children.
 “It’s gonna break his little heart.” Cara Dune muttered.
 “He’ll get over it. We all do.”
 You didn’t want to agree with him, on that last line. But he was right.
-
 Everyone had finished packing, all that was needed was for it to be loaded onto the cargo sled. The air felt weighted, and it wasn’t from the humidity of the surrounding swamp.
 For you, the air got even more oppressive when you saw Mando approach Omera and lead her slightly away from the others to speak to her. You knew he was just asking her to watch after the child. But you could see the way she was looking at him. You could see Mando fidgeting, almost shyly. You could feel your face get tingly. Why was this so hard for you? It wasn’t about you.
 You couldn’t hear the exchange, but you could tell Omera was saying something back at him, and the way her expression changed, you almost felt like she was asking him to stay, too.
 But then, pulling you from your wallowing in self-pity, you felt the same thing you’d felt back at your old home, just before the bounty hunters broke through and your life as you knew it ended. The intense, physical feeling of wrong, of something in your head thrashing about telling you to run. Telling you to grab the kid and run.
 They were here.
 You sprinted towards where the village kids were, focusing in on the child, drawing your blaster.
  "Mando!”  
 Whatever had been happening between Mando and Omera was forgotten, the widow spinning around to see what the shouting was, and Mando falling into a defensive stance, hand going to his blaster handle.
 Your timing couldn't have been better. As you skidded to your knees to grab the frightened child, the village children scattering in confusion and fear, blaster fire rang out and a scorched blast marked the earth right where he had been sitting. You ran in a crouch to hide behind the nearest barrier you could get to, in this case some of the cargo that had yet to be loaded. The child whimpered and clutched at your clothing, and you clutched him closer, blaster raised in your other hand in case you needed to peek around and return fire.
 You heard chatter from the other adults, and peering around the corner of the cargo, you see Cara Dune and Mando rush off int the trees. Omera is quickly herding the children to safety. You stay where you are, slumping against the back of the cargo, knowing Mando won't let whoever's out there get away. You look down at the kid in your grasp, who is looking back up at you with those dark eyes you'd gotten used to.
 "I told him it wasn't safe here."
-
 Just as you had warned him, the shots had come from someone carrying a tracking fob for the child. Cara Dune had seen to the demise of the hunter, and the tracking fob was destroyed. If it had been a different situation, you would have been more smug about being right.
 But as it currently stood, you needed to get out of there as soon as you could.
 The cargo sled was fully loaded, with additional supplies beyond what you’d brought with you, and the child was seated up where he could see out. You sat close by, not wanting to chance having to make a dive for him again. You hadn’t anticipated being so protective, but here you were. The village gathered around to see you off. Cara Dune offered to escort you back, but the decision was made to completely bypass going through town and just go straight to the Razor Crest. For once, you agreed with this decision.
 “Well then, until our paths cross.” the two exchanged a firm handshake. She looked back and nodded at you, and you returned it with a raised hand. It was good to know you had an ally out there now.
 You’d anticipated leaving by then, but when Winta rushed forward you had to suppress a groan. You were so ready to leave behind the other kids and yet here they were again, prolonging the goodbye process. With little regard for any sense of personal space, she wrapped her arms around the child in a hug. You leaned away a little to give them room. You didn’t expect her to release the child and give you a hug, too.
 “I’ll miss you so much.”
 You were frozen, your mind having drawn a blank and your body unsure of what to do. It took you a few moments to regain your senses, and you awkwardly put your hands on her shoulders.
 “Uh… us too.” She pulled back and gave you both a shy smile, and scampered away back to stand by her mother.
 Omera smiled and nodded at you in farewell. You tried to do the same, but you couldn’t guarantee your smile looked anything other than awkward and forced. You were terrible at this.
 “Thank you.”
 Mando nodded at her as well, and finally, he boarded the sled, and you left the small village.
 It was strange, you’d only been on the Razor Crest for a few days before the stay on Sorgan happened and took up the following few weeks of your life, but somehow the ship felt more like home than the village had.
 The three of you all sat in the cockpit area of the ship, Mando at the controls, you sitting in one of the chairs with the child in your lap, you idly letting him mess with your hands.
 Now that it was just you three, your curiosity was getting the better of you.
 “So, Mando… what was Omera saying to you before the bounty hunter attacked?”
 Mando flipped a few more switches and dials on the controls and sat back in his chair. “She was suggesting we stay, too.”      You mean she was suggesting    you      stay,     you thought to yourself.
 “...if the hunter didn’t show, would you have?”
 He turned to look at you. “Would you?”
 You huffed. “I liked being in the trees, but… too remote for my taste. Too closely packed. Too many kids trying to see what I was doing.” Too much of Omera trying to be friendly with the Mandalorian. You didn’t say that part, though.
 He turned back to face the windscreen. “If I had wanted to settle down somewhere, I would have done it years ago.” He folded his hands over his stomach. “I’m not interested in living the sedentary family life.”
 Somehow hearing him say that took a huge weight off your mind. But that still didn’t answer the selfish, nagging question you still had.
 “Did you like her?” You still didn’t know why you cared so much. But while your courage was up and you were on this train, you had to get it out. Mando’s head tilted in your direction slightly.
 “She was… nice. But I don’t think I liked her at all the way she liked me.” He turned back to look at the expanse of space before the ship. He didn’t want to say it out loud, but he was glad that you all got out of there before he had to tell her that. He wasn’t as oblivious as some thought, he could definitely tell that the widow was harboring some kind of affection towards him. He just didn’t feel the same way back, though. He never did. Besides, even if he did, his idea of how to live was so different from hers that it just wouldn’t work. Living on a farm, having and raising kids, staying in one place? Absolutely not.
 You looked down at the child in your lap, tugging on his claws that clutched your fingers, trying to hide the little smile of relief on your face. He perked his ears at you and babbled, seeming to sense you weren’t as weighed down as before.
 “You could’ve been free to go start your infochanting back up somewhere, though.” You looked up, a little surprised at the slightly quieter tone to Mando’s voice.
 He had come to appreciate your company, but he wasn’t about to directly admit it.
 You shook your head and huffed. “Honestly? I don’t mind.”
 You looked back down at the kid, gently grabbing the ends of his long ears and fussing with them, making him squeal.
 “I’m kind of glad to be back on this bucket of bolts with you.”
 You hadn’t made any indication of it, but Mando liked to think you were talking to him just then, and not just the child. Hearing those words stirred something in his chest, and though he couldn’t pin down what it was, he wouldn’t mind feeling it again.
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uwua3 · 3 years
Text
your name. (pt. 4)
❄️📚 tsukioka tsumugi
part 1 — part 2 — part 3 — part 4
summary: your first day out in tokyo allows you to meet a friend
warnings: food, skipping class
author’s note: bunnie is so happy to release the 4th installment to her first series! please enjoy the first time tsumugi (well, you!) go out to the city! the next part will be posted tomorrow~ thank you! ₍₍ ( ๑॔˃̶◡ ˂̶๑॓)◞♡
word count: 3,030
You didn’t have enough time.
Or, enough money. You followed the train tracks to the station, only to realize you’ve barely used the shinkansen to know enough about it. Back in Itomori, everyone knew each other so it was safe to walk everywhere. It wasn’t like that in Tokyo, apparently.
As you stood at the machine, looking back and forth to the IC card, you truly understood what it was like to actually be broke. While yours was a smaller, less-known company, Tsumugi’s train card held the common Pasmoa. It further emphasized that you were truly in Tokyo. Unbeknownst to you, a line was forming behind you as everyone looked to see what was taking you so long.
You tried to read the train map, but it was much more complicated than normal. Typically, you’d take out your smartphone to look up the directions, but the flip phone suddenly felt heavier in your coat pocket now. After a minute or so, you were muttering about ticket prices and hoping money would magically appear in your wallet before someone said a polite “Excuse me!” out of nowhere.
You glanced up before doing a double take at the most professional business man you’ve ever seen in your life. The man was clad in a beige suit that did wonders for his already thin physique, a red tie around his neck neatly. Blonde hair fell over his forehead perfectly, and his pink eyes examined you with a customer-service smile upon his face. As you got lost in how handsome he was, he bowed lightly with his hand tightening around his leather briefcase.
“I’m Chigasaki Itaru, nice to meet you. Is there a problem?” Itaru introduced himself, and you tried not to fall in love immediately with how he practically glowed. You hurried to do the same, almost falling over as you stayed in a bow for way too long. You didn’t notice how the line tried to keep in their sighs of disappointment when you continued hogging the counter.
“Um, I’m… Tsukioka Tsumugi! I’m just… struggling with the train?” You blanked, noticing how your voice went way too high for Tsumugi’s liking. Itaru curiously tilted his head anyways. It was… rare to find a Japanese person to be finding problems with the shinkansen. Were you a foreigner? Itaru questioned, but bit his tongue to avoid being rude.
“Oh? Are you out of money?” Itaru read the screen as you felt the second hand embarrassment for Tsumugi. City folk were brutally honest, huh? Before you could jump to defend Tsumugi’s honor (and empty bank account), Itaru swiped his card and input an amount that was large for both you and Tsumugi’s minds.
“There you go, make sure to be prepared next time.” Itaru smiled again, guiding you out of line as it finally progressed forward. You were still a fish out of water, your jaw dropped and mouth open as you tried to find the words to thank this stranger. Out of sight, Itaru’s annoyance was no longer concealed as he set his eyes on you with a frown.
“I just wanted you to hurry up. Don’t keep the line waiting, or it will be a very bad morning for you, Tsukioka-san.” Itaru advised truthfully, although not meanly as you nodded dumbly, feeling incredibly ashamed for putting Tsumugi in this situation. You dropped into a bow again, clutching the IC card with both your hands together.
“T-Thank you, Chigasaki-san!” You said and Itaru uncomfortably shifted on his dress shoes, looking around as he whispered for you to stand back up. As you did, Itaru took another look at your plain state with a groan, as if he was about to regret what he was going to ask next.
“Where are you going?”
“Um… Omi's House, Chigasaki-san.”
“Really? Me too. What are the odds?” Itaru checked to confirm the route once again, and contemplated something before looking at you again.
“I have no reason to help you, but you seem… like a nice guy. Come with me, we’ll go to Omi’s new cafe together.” Itaru offered and you thanked anyone listening that you met Itaru that morning. Out of reflex, you immediately wrapped the businessman in a tight hug that was too close for meeting someone less than five minutes ago.
“Thank you so much, Chigasaki-san! You’re the best!” You felt so relieved at the rare act of hospitality in the city, that you forgot Itaru wasn’t Tsumugi’s close friend. Itaru tensed in your arms as he beared the curious looks from strangers passing by their corner in the train station. Before Itaru could say anything, you were hit with the fact you were hugging a random person. When you let go and profusely apologized, Itaru tried not to sigh; he did not sign up for this whatsoever.
“Let’s go before we’re late.” Itaru coughed, fixing his collar as he tried not to rock back and forth on his heels from the sudden intimacy. You nodded gratefully, following Itaru into one of the fastest trains you’ve ever seen in your life. The platforms were crowded with hundreds of thousands passengers and it was the busiest place by far. On the way to the station, the streets were equivalent to your hometown, but Tokyo was another league of its own. You constantly moved your neck, trying to see everything at once as Itaru half-dragged you to the correct train.
“Have you never been to Tokyo before?” Itaru asked politely, to which you shook your head quickly. Although Tsumugi was a Tokyo native it seems, you definitely weren’t. You were so amazed by the sight of one of the busiest train stations in Japan that you forgot you were still in Tsumugi’s body. Itaru let out a sound of acknowledgement, as if it all made sense now. With an amused quirk to his lips, Itaru waited for the train to arrive as you ogled at every new thing. (The bento boxes here were way overpriced but there were so many! Not only that, but there were all sorts of people here. Students, businessmen, employees!)
“All on board train #6!” The announcer’s automated voice cheerfully said over the intercom as train #6 pulled in perfectly on time. Punctuality at its finest. You waited for the hundreds of train riders to leave first before you were the first one inside, rushing in with a sense of urgency. Others may have thought you were late to something, but you were just excited to ride your first bullet train! Itaru strolled in a few moments later. It seemed as if he didn’t rush himself for anyone, what a cool guy.
Luckily, you had saved a seat beside you for Itaru and as soon as he sat down, the train doors closed and off you both were to the heart of the city. While Itaru had already done this a million times, you were energetically bouncing your leg up and down, staring outside of the window like your life depended on it. Itaru didn’t mind, as long as you didn’t bother him as he played with something on his smartphone.
(“What is that?” You asked, leaning over his shoulder to see some game graphics. Itaru quickly shielded his screen, as if it was some big secret. “Nothing.” Itaru defensively replied, before putting back on his typical pleasant smile. “Oh, okay…”)
That was that. Itaru was charming, to say the least. When the train reached its final destination, Itaru pocketed his advanced phone neatly and gestured for you to follow. However, when you stood up, you forgot about the brown bag and its strap hooked around the seat. You felt yourself get pulled back and before you hit the ground, a pair of arms quickly caught you. As everyone departed, you could feel Itaru’s hold like a true prince.
“You’re lucky I found you, or else you’d be dead.” Itaru said simply, and you nodded again. He wasn’t wrong. Itaru quickly let go of you and you two headed out into the intercity of Tokyo. It was even busier this time around, and you loved every second of it.
“Welcome to Shinanomachi Station.” You read out loud as you passed the giant sign above. Welcome to Tokyo, indeed. Itaru introduced you to his fully functional car (“Why didn’t you just drive to Omi's House?” “No parking back at the apartment.” “Oh.”) and you both took off into the morning traffic. Funny enough, the car was the same exact color as Itaru’s two-piece suit.
It was about 7:15 A.M. when you saw Omi's House. Perhaps, it was more accurate to say you smelt it first over anything. Cooking just like your grandmother’s wafted into the streets and if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine Itomori again. It was a sense of comfort in the middle of the bustling city. As the crowds of people passed, Omi's House was illuminated in a warm glow above a natural exterior. It felt like home, Omi wasn’t wrong in naming such a place.
Itaru parked naturally like it was nothing. You almost pushed your face against the glass with anticipation as you watched servers pass back and forth in the display windows. Because it was so early, you could practically hear the sound of the coffee machine behind the register. Without warning, you almost collapsed out of the car when Itaru opened the door for you. Whether it was on purpose or not, you had no idea. Itaru must’ve been a city boy through and through, because the mere presence of the cafe didn’t faze him like it did for you.
You let out a soft “Wow…” at the place as you stumbled out of the car. It was your first time ever seeing a cafe, but it felt so familiar that you didn’t even question it at first. Itaru didn’t care to ask why you were like this and entered the cafe, holding the door open for you. The bell above your head rang a single chime, and you were about to figure out why it awakened something in you before a charismatic voice called Tsumugi’s name.
“Tsumu-Tsumu! Did you bring a friend?! I didn’t know you had any other than me!” Kazunari jokes, already sitting in a window seat. Itaru held up his hand in a professional wave, before departing to someone on the other side. Itaru rushed for only one person, and it was his boss. A green-haired man with thin glasses glared at his employee, seeing right through his lies. (“Utsuki-senpai! I was late because I wanted to help someone new to Tokyo—” “Bullshit, Itaru. You just used them as an excuse.” “Senpai…”)
You sat down across from Kazunari and took in his vibrant bigger-than-life appearance. Kazunari’s green eyes shined like the sun even if there were prominent college student shadows. His hair was stylishly blonde with hair spray keeping the perfect shape; on top was a fedora, which had his name bedazzled in cyan gems with a star. When Kazunari winked whilst grinning, you definitely could see how Kazunari was the star of everyone’s show.
“Good morning, Miyoshi-kun.” You bowed lightly and Kazunari huffed childishly, crossing his arms. “Aw, what the heck! You just called me by my first name today! I thought we were becoming soulmates, ya know?” Kazunari pouted like a little kid, sinking into his chair as his knee bumped into the table, nearly knocking over his frappuccino. You immediately stabilized it, letting out a sigh of relief when nothing spilled. The foam jiggled for a bit before staying still, the caramel grid design perfectly okay. Phew.
“Sorry.” You apologized sheepishly and Kazunari just waved his hand like it was nothing; of course he was just being dramatic. Everything was in good fun when Kazunari was here, apparently. Before Kazunari could begin talking, another man appeared at the table in a navy blue apron labelled “Omi’s House”.
“Kazunari! Welcome to Omi’s House, once again. Who’s this?” You had to look up to see that this was in fact, Fushimi Omi, owner of the cafe. His nametag reflected the sunlight from outside and his smile lines shined through. Omi didn’t look like he’d run a cafe, but his eyes were made of amber honey and his smile sparkled like the clean countertops at the front register. When you slightly bowed your head, a hand immediately ruffled your hair with extreme fondness.
“This is Tsumu-Tsumu! Best T.A. ever! He’s saved my butt so many times in class, Omimi~ What’s your best thing on the menu today?” Kazunari giggled, already on familiar terms with the owner of the cafe. Even though Omi and Kazunari seemed to be unlikely friends, they still shared an easy conversation with one another as Omi pondered the question. Adjusting the notepad in his hand, Omi didn’t even have to take a look at the menu before having a lightbulb moment, using his pencil to point at the breakfast foods section.
“Do you like eggs? How about eggs benedict?”
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You didn’t know Tsumugi liked eggs so much.
It was almost instinct to wolf down the eggs like they were your last meal on Earth. When Kazunari took out his high-end smartphone to post a story to his Instagram, he turned the camera only to see “Tsumugi” finishing his steaming hot plate. Luckily, you found out Tsumugi didn’t have any social media, so it was a video that couldn’t hurt his reputation in the long run.
Still, Omi’s eggs were perhaps the best food you and Tsumugi have eaten in a long time.
“Hey, Tsumu-Tsumu! You’re so different today! I didn’t even know you could eat that much, you rarely order anything when we go out!” Even though the tone was lighthearted, you swore Kazunari’s eyes darkened for a split second before returning to his bright expression. You slowed down your chewing, unfamiliar with this intense feeling of hunger. Just when was the last time Tsumugi had eaten something?
“Aha… I apologize, Miyoshi-san.” You mumbled, realizing there was nothing left to eat. Kazunari had nothing but another sugary concoction. Apparently, the drink was so complex and elaborate that Omi named it the “Kazunari Special”, even if no one really ordered it. (When Kazunari asked if you wanted a sip, you didn’t need Tsumugi’s better judgment to decline politely).
“Hmph, don’t go back to being so shy! This is the most I’ve seen you even interact with me. I think you’re sleep-deprived like hell.” Kazunari pat your head again and again, like an overly affectionate owner would do to their dog. You took it like a champ, feeling yourself blush under the loud attention. At least you were full, that’s what mattered.
“I feel fine, thank you, though.” For some reason, Tsumugi’s tone came out sharp, something not suited for an easygoing breakfast in a cafe. It must’ve struck a nerve, one you weren’t exactly aware of. Kazunari seemed to realize this as well and his lips fell from their usual smile, settling on a firm line. Yet, it wasn’t out of annoyance, but concern. It was that look of pity that made Tsumugi’s body become smaller, as if willing to disappear.
“Tsumu… you don’t have to pretend around me. We’re friends, right?” Kazunari smiled gently when you nodded without thinking. Tsumugi might have not been the closest of friends with Kazunari, but there was clearly a soft spot for him in both of you. So boldly, you rather harshly stabbed the last piece of egg and held it in front of Kazunari expectantly, as if it was some sort of silent apology.
“Eat… uh, please. Let me take care of you, too.” You stuttered embarrassingly enough, wishing you were as effortlessly cool as Kazunari. He seemed to be wishing the same thing as Kazunari dropped his facade and became… flustered? For a moment, Kazunari’s eyes were warmer, as if slowly opening the curtains to reveal what was truly behind his “glass-like” exterior. Then, he took a big bite of your breakfast, flashing a giant grin at your rather surprised blush.
“Hehe, is my Tsumu shy again~? Nonsense, it’s just me.”
But, I don’t even know you, you and Tsumugi thought at the same time, and it became clear that the friendship between you and Kazunari was undeniable but impersonal. How come Kazunari didn’t order any food? Were his hands so jittery from the coffee he must’ve drank often? Why was the coffee so sugary, did he need it to stay up? So many questions from this meeting alone, and you weren’t satisfied with having no answers.
“Skip class and hang out with me, Miyoshi-kun.” You rushed out, hiding your anxious expression nonchalantly as Kazunari nearly spit out his coffee. Well, it was practically just whipped cream at this point, but still! Kazunari put his mug down with some sort of apprehension, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You didn’t blame him, considering how studious Tsumugi appeared to be. The Bachelor degrees, the filled-out calendar with no room to breathe, and the multitude of dried out red pens in the trash. Someone like Tsumugi asking one of his students to forget about their studies must’ve been something that could only happen in their wildest dreams.
“Skip class?! Tsumu-Tsumu, you must be super out of it.” Yet, Kazunari didn’t seem to be against it. In fact, he looked just about ready to do anything right now as long as Tsumugi was involved. It put a smile to your face how endearing Kazunari truly was. “But, I’m in. How can I say no to my favorite T.A.?”
Kazunari didn’t ask why for this sudden request, but you tried to communicate the answer as much as you could regardless. You hoped by leaving a generous tip (one that surely would have consequences later on), asking what his favorite places to go were, and insisting your schedule was cleared for the day that it revealed everything you needed it to.
We’re supposed to be friends, right? So let’s get to know each other without the boundaries between us. Let me in, Kazunari. Who are you, really?
28 notes · View notes
tinyboxxtink · 3 years
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"Caught In The Storm" *Part 2*
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Y'all thought I was kidding when I said I was pumped for this story; you just read how long this chapter is.
IT'S POURING OUT. I JUST WANT YOU TO GET WHERE I AM ALREADY.
It's so good guys. Like, SO GOOD.
Okay I'm sorry proceed.
Tag List:
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@wanniiieeee
@milkshqke
@gibbs274
@lolliepopsicle
@aprildecker-blog
@objection-argumentative
@word-scribbless
If you missed part 1: Here!
Part 3 Here!
-----
The next day the SVU squad was having one of their "murder board" meetings when you came storming into the station.
"Well I hope you're happy!!" You looked right at Fin.
"Audition didn't go well, cannoli?" Sonny asked you using his pet name for you.
"No Sonny, it DID NOT," You huffed. "I walked in there and I blew my audition," You circled Fin’s desk. "And I don't mean I forgot the lyrics, or I hit a bad note. No no, ohhhh no," You finally stood in front of him and crossed your arms.
"Halfway through the song I broke down SOBBING. I had a complete mental breakdown, because all I could think was that I had the worst moment of my entire life in that room!!!"
"Hey you can't blame us for your mistakes," Fin retorted.
"I don't blame them, I blame you!" You gestured to the rest of your “family” and then to him.
"Excuse you?" Fin sat up straighter.
"You didn't have to say anything Fin, you really didn't," You sighed.
"What?"
"You could have waited to have your fucking temper tantrum until after my audition,"
"Excuse me no--"
"She has a point" Olivia interjected.
"You too?" Fin took offense.
"Fin she was leaving, it wasn't like she was going to try and jump Rafael's bones right there," She went on. The whole room shivered at the thought of you “jumping” anybody’s bones.
"Look, I don't love it either but you can't help your feelings. And she just has a little crush on him, you can't fault her for that,"
You scoffed in offense.
"You're not helping, sweets," Olivia warned.
"Right…"
"Anyway you could have waited to have it out, is all I’m saying,” Olivia nodded at you with a smile. You mouthed a “thank you”.
"Oh we haven't begun to have it out," Fin huffed.
"Save it" You put a hand up before he started to stand up and get in your face for a fight.
"I already know what you're going to say; he's too old for me, we're a 'family' and he's supposed to be my 'uncle' or 'brother' or some other creepy thing, and we have nothing in common. But we do!"
"You barely know him, Y/N," Nick chimed in.
"I know him better than any of you!" You cried defensively.
"What?" Sonny looked at everyone confused, but they were just as lost as he was.
"That summer….when I was working with him. We got... close," You muttered the ending.
"I fucking knew it, you did bang him begin my back…" Fin growled.
"It wasn't like that! It's not like that, da--FIN," You actually did usually call him dad or daddy, but since he had been trying to use his dominance you persisted to remind him he wasn't actually your father.
"So what, now you two are in love?" Fin rolled his eyes.
"No! He didn't... we've never….it's never gone there, and I don't even know how he feels," You looked down as you talked. But then, you remembered why you were there in the first place and you raised your head up with eyes of fire.
“And it wouldn't matter anyway because it's none of your business.” You snapped.
“It is absolutely my business Y/N he’s my co-worker, he’s ALL of our co-workers, this affects ALL of us,”
“I knew it,” You scoffed, tears coming to your eyes.
“What?”
“I knew you’d blow up, and freak out, and not even ATTEMPT to open your mind or hear what I have to say, it’s just about you and what makes you okay,” You backed away from all of them.
“So I came here willing to say that I’m done,” You raised your hands.
“What do you mean you’re ‘done’?” Fin crossed his arms.
“With you,” You replied straight faced, willing tears not to fall right now. “Olivia’s right, I can’t help the way I feel, and BELIEVE me I have tried, daddy,” You resorted to your old name for a punch in the gut.
“Y’know whenever Sonny and Nick started, I had ‘crushes’ on them too,” You nodded at the two, who quickly looked uncomfortable picturing you that way.
“But those quickly went away, and I accepted them as my uncles, or whatnot,” You continued. “I have done that since I was in Jr. High, come here and meet my new ‘family’. I’ve always felt maternal or paternal vibes from everyone here, Uncle Brian, Grandpa Kragen and Munch, Uncle Stabler who can rot in hell…” You gave Olivia a sad look.
“But it’s ALWAYS been familial love! And the day I met Rafael, something was different,” You couldn’t help the tears choking your throat. “And I have never, EVER no matter HOW hard I have tried, felt anything like I feel about the rest of you. It’s just....different,”
“And now, you all know. And I know that you don’t like it, or it makes you uneasy, or blah blah blah,” You made blah gestures with your hands.
“But I can’t go back to pretending that it doesn’t kill me every time that I see him, and I’m not going to pretend like I’m okay with dad being-- this,” You gestured to Fin who shifted uncomfortably.
“So, I’m not going to come around here, for a while,” You said sadly.
“We didn’t do anything, cannoli! We’re your family too,” Sonny protested.
“Yeah I know, I just--”
“Look, Y/N before anybody does ANYTHING, you need to go talk to Rafael,”
“What?
“WHAT?!”
Both you and Fin exclaimed at the same time.
“Look I’m not thrilled with the idea of...that, but the bottom line none of this arguing means anything if he doesn’t feel the same way. So I’m saying before you start going off and making threats to US, go talk to him first. Without anybody else’s input,”
“Yeah, alright,” You shrugged and left before anyone else could argue.
--------
You walked into Rafael’s office quietly, not really sure how to start the conversation. He was writing a deposition silently so you knocked on the door to get his attention. He looked up at you with a small smile.
“Hey you,” He got up and walked around his desk as you shut the door behind you. “I was worried about you,” He put his hands on both of your shoulders.
“I know,” You gave him a small smile back. “But you’re right we do need to talk about last night,”
“Yeah, I--” He looked away nervously.
“I already went to my da---Fin, and the squad about this,” You bit your lip.
“....About what?” He was now concerned.
“Us,” You looked at him with a small smile.
“I’m sorry, there’s an ‘us’ now?” Rafael half laughed.
“Well that’s what I’m saying, Rafael!” You bit your lip. “Look after all the fighting and what not, what it boils down to is how you and I feel,”
“.....What are you saying?” Rafael asked, backing away from you.
“I’m asking,” You step forward and took both of his hands and looked at him seriously.
“For you to forget about Fin, or the squad, or an age gap, or all the million other things that are ‘against’ us,” You took a deep breath and asked the hardest question you’ve ever asked anyone:
“I’m asking you...do you love me?”
“Of course I love you Y/N, you’re like a--” Rafael immediately responded, moving away from you and gesturing wildly.
“Do NOT say daughter,” You cut him off. “Or sister, or niece, or cousin. You know that’s not what I’m asking,” You grabbed him and made him look at you again.
“Do you want to be with me?”
“I...it’s complicated,” He broke from your hold and paced his office.
“No I’d say it’s pretty damn simple-- do you feel about me the way I feel about you?” You asked him again.
“I just...I don’t want to become between you and Fin, he’s basically your--”
“He’s NOT my father!” You yelled.
“But he’s the closest thing you have!” Rafael argued, putting his hands over his face and taking a deep sigh.
“Christ almighty, Y/N. I don’t...I don’t want this to be a whole ‘thing’, I don’t want to upset Olivia, or the other squad members, I just...want us to go back to normal,” He gave you a sad look as he sank into his chair behind his desk.
“....Yeah well, normal is not an option, Rafael. And you STILL have not answered my question,” You circled his desk to be closer to him again.
“What question?”
“Dammit, Rafa!” You threw up your hands, then took both of your hands and put them on either side of the chair preventing him from evading you again.
“Look me in the eyes right now, and tell me you’re not in love with me,”
A very long pause began, as the two of you just stared at each other. You were searching his green eyes for a hint, a tell of what he was thinking, but he kept himself very guarded. You hated it.
“...No, I’m not,” He said in the tiniest voice as he looked down at the floor.
“You’re lying,” You pulled back with a sarcastic laugh, tears choking your throat yet again.
“Oh so just because I didn’t say what you wanted me to, I’m lying? For fuck’s sake grow up, Y/N,” Rafael spat at you coldly, turning back to his desk in an attempt to resume working.
“Fine, you know what? Fine. That’s great. You believe whatever you wanna believe Rafael, but things are NOT going back to normal,” You shook your head, trying to be cold and direct but failing as tears fell from your eyes.
“Y/N….” He felt his heart breaking, he hated to see you cry.
“No,” You stopped him. “We’re done. I don’t ever want to see you again. Not here, not at the station, not at the fucking Starbucks down my street!” Your voice raised as more tears fell.
“Y/N, please don’t do this…” Rafael began to panic, realizing what you were saying. He leapt up from his chair and tried grabbing your hands but you pushed him away.
“Don’t call me, don’t text me. Just...leave me hell alone,” And with that you turned on your heels and stormed out of his office, now full on sobbing down the hall.
Unbeknownst to you, Rafael let out an angry scream, running over to his desk and flinging papers everywhere, then proceeded to sink back into his chair behind his desk and cried ever so silently in his office.
-----
It had been about a week since your whole fallout with your “family” and Barba and you weren't doing great.
Then one day you got a phone call from an unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Hey Y/N, this is Sandy from the supper club?” You immediately stopped walking when you heard her voice.
“Oh yes how are you?”
“Great, I was wondering if you could come back in and audition for us again?”
“Are you serious? I know I’m going to regret asking but, what made you change your mind?”
“Well your friend Kelsey called and told us that the day you came in and auditioned, your dog had just died that morning. But you didn't want to stand us up so you came anyway. And to be honest with you, all of the other auditions have kind of sucked so we'd like to give you another try.”
“Oh my God thank you, thank you, thank you so much!!!”
“Great so we'll see you tonight at 8:00?”
“Absolutely,”
You hung up the phone and immediately called Kelsey.
“Hello?”
“I love you so much I love you I love you I love you!”
“Oh so they called did they?”
“YES. I cannot believe that you would do that for me,”
“Well I figured you needed a win right now. Since you know you lost your family, and everybody who actually cares about you,”
“....Wow,”
“ You know what I mean! I mean you still have me, and Kenny obviously,”
“....Right. ANYWAY, the audition is tonight so….”
“Yes?”
“Will you play for me?”
“Let me see if I can free up my busy schedule,”
“Ha, Ha,”
“Oh look I’m free! I'll be there after work. Love you bye”
----
*That Night*
You walked into the Supper Club with a brand new outfit and a nervous smile. You noticed Kelsey was already at the piano, waving at you with a huge smile and a thumbs up.
“Hey Sandy, Hey Kyle…” You shook hands with the owners. “Thank you so much again for this chance,
“Girl we should be thanking you, you should’ve seen the ‘talent’ that has stunk up this stage all week!” Kyle laughed.
“So are you ready?” Sandy asked you.
“Yeah, I think I’m good,” You took a deep breath and smiled at her. She nodded at you while you took your spot on stage once again.
You closed your eyes and blocked out everything and everyone out of your mind, except for your song. It was just you, and the stage. This is what mattered.
-----
“....Good to you,” You finished the last line with a breathy note, your eyes still closed. You had kept them shut the entire time just so you wouldn’t look out into the house and just see the horrified looks of your family's faces burned into your brain.
“That was beautiful!!” Sandy clapped her hands. “Do you think you could come back tomorrow night and do that again?”
“Like for a second audition?” You asked hopefully.
“Like as a job,” She grinned back.
“Really?!”
“Yes really! That was enchanting darling, really,” Kyle placed a hand on your shoulder.
“Thank you, thank you so much!” You nodded for Kelsey to come over as Sandy and Kyle walked away.
“I got the job,” You beamed.
“YOU GOT THE JOB!!!!” She squealed, causing people to stare. You shook your head and lead her out of the club back onto the street.
“Oh my god, Oh my GOD! I’m going to sing to a packed club, night after night after night! Oh my god, I have to call Dad---” Your celebrating tone quickly died when you realized the only people you’d wanna call about this weren’t...there.
“...You can call Kenny,”
“Kenny!” You smiled. “Yes I’ll call Kenny!”
“Hey girl what’s up?”
“I got the job,”
“Wha---at the Supper Club?”
“YES!!!!!!”
“Oh my god you GOT THE JOB!!!” *she got the job!*
You heard him speak to a muffled voice in the background.
“Kenny…”
“Yeah babe what’s up?”
“Who are you with right now?”
“...Alejandro,”
“Oh, Alex! I haven’t seen him in forever, put him on the phone,”
“He uh-- he has food in his mouth,”
“Boy why you lying, tell her she needs to--”
You heard Fin's voice.
“KENNETH,”
“...Yeah?”
“Don’t tell him that! He doesn’t get to know that!”
“Y/N, can’t we just stop all of this--”
“NO. And if you tell him to come tomorrow night I will kill you,”
You hung the phone and noticed Kelsey giving you a look.
“What?” You raised an eyebrow.
“You didn’t have to tell him you were singing tomorrow, you could’ve just texted him so Fin wouldn’t hear,” She smiled mischievously at you. “You want him thereeee,”
"...Maybe," You bit your lip. "Do you think he'll come?"
"I bet they ALL come, baby girl," She winked.
You wondered if she was right. If you'd see Rafael tomorrow, after all this time.
------
“I can’t believe she--” Kenneth stared at the phone, then to Fin.
“Dad, you have to go to her show tomorrow night,”
“Kenny she literally just said she’d kill you--”
“Yeah but dad, we both know her,” He looked at Fin with earnest eyes. “She might be mad at you right now, but she’ll want you there when her dream is coming true,” Fin’s eyes lit up as he finished speaking.
“AND the rest of the squad,” He quickly added, making Fin sigh.
“Yeah,” He agreed.
“AND Barba,”
“...Yeah alright Ken I get it, okay? Finish your food before it gets cold,”
-----
The next day Fin went to see Barba at his office. He knocked softly then entered to see Barba talking with Olivia.
“Detective,” Barba nodded. “Didn’t expect you here, was Olivia not working fast enough?” He teased Liv with a smile.
“Actually I’m glad you’re both here. I need to tell the rest of the guys but-- I wanted to come here first,”
“That sounds ominous, Fin,”
“Actually it’s not,” He shook his head. “Y/N got that job she...auditioned for, a few weeks ago,” He muttered awkwardly not looking Barba in the face.
“Wha--Seriously? How? When?!” Olivia began asking questions rapid fire.
“....Why did you come to tell me this, Fin? You didn’t know Olivia was here,”
“Look, Barba,” Fin sighed, running his hand back across his head. “I don’t-- I don’t need to know the specifics of how close you and my daug---Y/N, are,”
“Oh Fin look I haven’t--”
“Yeah, I figured. She’s iced us all out for a while now,” He chuckled sadly. If he taught you anything, it was how to stand your ground.
“But Kenny said, that as mad as she is we need to be there tomorrow night when she goes on,” He continued. “All of us,”
“Tomorrow?” Barba’s eyes perked up. “Tomorrow night, you want me to go see Y/N?”
“ALL of us,” He emphasized. “But, yeah,”
“Sounds good,” He replied as nonchalant as he could, trying to hide his excitement. He missed you so badly, it scared him how much it hurt not to have you in his life on a daily basis.
“Uh huh,” Fin chuckled, nodding to Olivia. “I’ll see you back at the station,”
“Actually I was on my way out, I’ll see you tomorrow night Rafa,” She winked at him.
As soon as they left his office, Rafael did a fist pump in the air like a kid. He was going to see you, after so long.
He couldn’t wait. He just hoped you couldn’t either.
29 notes · View notes
wiypt-writes · 3 years
Text
Riding High
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Ch1:Jodhpurs And Jeans
Chapter Summary: After a passing comment from his well-meaning neighbour, land-lady and friend, Frank decides that before he enrols her into school Mary needs to learn some social skills and pick up a hobby to help her interact with kids her own age.
Mary decides she wants to learn how to ride…
Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.
Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher
A/N: So yeah, this one’s been buzzing in my head for AGES now. As you all know, I’m a Brit so I’m REALLY sorry if too much British horsey lingo slips into this…ASK away if you don’t understand. As means of an explanation in the UK we have 3 main types of stables. We have Riding Schools (which focus solely on providing riding lessons), Livery Yards (which are places where owners board their horses) and Equestrian Centres (which do both). After a bit of research it seems that EC also translates across the pond and means the same thing so…just bear with me on this and run with it!
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist
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August 2017
“I’m holding you solely responsible for this.” Frank shot Roberta a glare as Mary bounced over to the truck, her blonde hair swinging slightly as she skipped.
“All I said was that it might be useful to have her interact with kids her own age before you throw her into a school, which for the record, I still think is a dumbass idea Frank.” “Input noted and duly ignored…” Frank rolled his eyes “She needs to go to school. Have some kind of variant on a normal childhood.”
Roberta took a deep breath and simply shrugged “On your head be it.”
“Come on Frank!” Mary shouted, standing up on the ledge of the truck “we’re gonna be late!”
“It’s 20 minutes tops to Pinellas Park…” Frank looked at her “We got half an hour, chill out Stack”
“My name’s Mary not Short Stack…” she sing songed back.
“Don’t I know it…” Frank said, looking at her before he turned back to Roberta “I’ll see you later.”
“Hmmm” she nodded, and with that he rolled his eyes again and headed to the truck.
“You know you’re not actually gonna get to ride anything today right?” he asked, turning to his niece.
“No, but I’m still gonna see the ponies.” she said, smiling. “Why can’t we bring Fred?”
“Because a horse might step on him.” Frank shrugged, before he paused. “Actually, shall we take him?” Mary narrowed her eyes at him “That’s mean.” He chuckled, ruffled her hair and started up the truck. **** “Ok, now soften your outside hand…” Fliss called out across the paddock, as the woman riding the tall, black warmblood circled her “Yeah, you feel that. He’s taking the contact now, not leaning against your hand. So when you feel that softening, that’s when you need to push with your inside leg…and if is he isn’t listening a soft tap up with the stick…” She watched again from behind her Oakley wraparounds, smiling as the horse extended nicely down the long side of the school.
“Yeah, there you go!” she shouted encouragingly, “Now bring him round again and this time at the corner, pop him into canter…” She took a quick glance at her watch. She was running slightly behind, but what else was new? She would never leave a lesson, regardless, until her client had achieved something, even if it was what they dubbed a small victory. End on a high was her motto, and this was no different. Ever since Lucy had brought Captain out of his stable, Fliss could see the horse was in one of his awkward moods so she’d had to switch out her plan a little. It had worked and he’d settled after about 15 minutes of being an obstinate shit and he was working quite nicely.
“Good!” She shouted, pacing slightly “Now let’s see if we can extend this a little…” Lucy sat up tall, pushed through her legs and the horse bounded down the side. Fliss grinned, less than 6 months ago Lucy hadn’t even been able to keep the horse in a trot, now here she was producing an extended canter. Moments like this made her job so worthwhile…
“Ok, bring him back down…” she said, “And into trot…and walk…”
Fliss headed over to her client and smiled as she walked alongside her “That was really good Luce…you happy?” “I’m over the moon!” The teenager grinned “I can’t believe it…he went so well!”
“Yeah because you rode him well.” Fliss smiled “You know, I seriously think you should consider a Dressage Competition.”
“You think?”
“Yeah, I do. I know you don’t have a horse of your own but you can borrow Cap if you want…have a think about it.” “I will, thanks Fliss.”
Fliss smiled, gave the horse a pat and headed back to the gate.
“Joanne?” she called, and one of her grooms appeared. “Can you just supervise Lucy cooling him off. I’ve got someone bringing their daughter in at 11 am that should be here any time soon.”
“Sure.” Joanne nodded “Oh, they back barn has been mucked out but I’ve not had chance to scrub the water buckets out.” “It’s ok, you can do it after lunch” Fliss nodded. “the automatics are getting installed in a month or so which should make it a little easier.”
She patted Joanne on the shoulder and made her way into the office. Reaching for a file she dug out a Registration Form and a Liability Waiver and set them on the desk before she took a quick glance in the mirror. Satisfied that her auburn hair was tamed and there was no hay stick in it she nodded to herself and walked back on the yard, just in time to see a tall, well build dark haired man desperately trying to control a blonde haired girl who was looking around in glee and pointing.
“Hi…” she walked over, momentarily stuck by how damned good looking this guy was. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt which perfectly accentuated his tone upper body. His chiselled jawline which was covered in a short, stubbled beard, soft spikey dark hair, and he flashed her a smile that made the corners of his aviator covered eyes crinkle. A smile that made her clear her throat. “I’m Fliss, you must be Mr Adler.”
Frank looked at the woman in front of him, glad that his glasses hid the fact he was blatantly eyeing her up and down. Dressed in a pair of long riding boots, tight navy blue jodhpurs with a white belt around the top, and a tight pink polo shirt he could see every curve she possessed. But it was the smile she flashed him that made him feel like some kind of teenage school kid again.  “Frank, please.” “Nice to meet you Frank.” Fliss smiled, noting how deep his voice sounded, it was much more gravelly than on the phone and there was a Boston twang to his accent. She shook his hand, his palm and fingertips slightly calloused against her skin, and then turned to Mary “And what can I call you Miss?” “Mary.” the little girl infomed her, looking up “Are all these horses yours?”
Fliss chuckled. “No not all of them. Eight belong to me. Two are my personal ones, then I have 6 that work in the riding school and the other six are boarders.” “Oh.” Mary pondered, looking around. “So which one can I ride?” “Mary…” Frank chastised her softly as he looked down at her, before glancing back at Fliss “Sorry, she’s excited.” Fliss laughed and shook her head “It’s fine, I love to see it.”
She turned to Mary and then in an exaggerated whisper so that Frank could here said “I’ll let you into a secret, I always put the new kids on Monty because he’s awesome and looks after everyone and he especially likes girls. He’s a ladies man. You wanna meet him?” Mary nodded eagerly and Fliss looked up at Frank, seeking his permission. He nodded and gestured with his head and she straightened up before leading Mary across the yard to the barn on the opposite side.
Frank stayed where he was for a moment, watching her ass as she walked before he mentally slapped himself and followed.
Fliss led them both into the airy barn, pushing up her sunglasses and down to 2 of the smaller stables at the far end. She stopped at one that contained a small, grey pony who gave a little nicker and stuck his head over the door.
“Monty, meet Mary.” she said with a smile as Mary gently reached up to stroke the pony’s soft nose.
“He’s really pretty.” Mary nodded, appraisingly.
“Yeah he’s awesome.” Fliss smiled, “And he’s a good boy too.” “Can I go in the stable?” Mary asked.
“Erm… if your dad says it’s ok?” Fliss looked at Frank who was tucking his sunglasses down the front of his shirt.
“I’m not her dad.” Frank shook his head “I’m her uncle.” “Oh, sorry.” Fliss frowned “I just assumed.”
“I get it a lot.” he waved her apology away “But I am her legal guardian so…”
Fliss nodded, studying him for a moment. There was clearly a bit more to that story but it wasn’t her business to pry.
“Can I?” Mary looked at him and he nodded.
“Ok so, Monty is really good and nothing scares him but with all horses you should always be quiet and not jump or shout.” Fliss instructed and Frank had to smile as Mary nodded seriously. He hadn’t seen her this engrossed in anything other than books for a long time. Maybe Roberta had been right.
Fliss unbolted the stable door and walked in, leading Mary in after her. She showed her where he liked to be scratched and Mary giggled as she rubbed at the spot on the pony’s withers and he began to tilt his head to the side, lips moving against Fliss’s arm as he nuzzled into her.
“What’s he doing?” Mary asked.
“It’s called grooming.” Fliss explained “So he is mimicking what you’re doing to him by doing it to me, see? It’s how they show affection in the wild. Sometimes they can get a bit carried away and they nip but they don’t mean to be nasty or bite.”
She looked over to Frank, keeping one eye on the small girl who was engrossed in petting Monty and looked at him “So, are you just after her learning to ride then or…” Frank nodded “It’s a long story but, she needs a hobby and this was the only thing that seemed to get her excited. Of course it would be the one that will milk me dry.” he raised his voice a little.
“Spend less money on beer when you go out tonight” she shot back, and Fliss gave a loud bark of a laugh as Frank, shook his head.
“See what I gotta put up with?” he snorted.
“You should talk to my dad about it.” She grinned. “I bled him dry due to horses as a kid, especially when I was up and down the UK competing!” “I was gonna say your accent isn’t local.” He said, smiling.
“Neither is yours.” she shot back “Boston, am I right?” He cocked his head, momentarily surprised. He didn’t think his accent was that strong considering.
“Yeah.” he nodded, “But I aint lived there in a while.” “I lived in Concorde” she explained, noticing his puzzled glance
“Huh, no kidding.” he smiled “Cambridge.” “Nice city.” Fliss smiled “I loved it.”
“What made you end up here?”
Fliss hesitated for a while. “Erm..” “Sorry, you don’t need to explain, I was just a little curious.” “No, it’s fine, just a long and complicated story.” Fliss scratched her temple “The abridged version is my marriage broke down and my mum and dad retired out here so I joined them.” She was avoiding his eyes slightly. Frank was smart enough to realise there was slightly more to it than that but he was tactful enough not to press. Besides, it was really none of his business.
“How about you? What you running from?” “What makes you think I’m running from anything?” he looked at her.
“Aren’t we all?” she looked at him, her deep brown eyes locked onto his.
He hesitated for a moment and then shrugged “Again, a long and complicated story but I wanted to give Mary a life away from hassle. And there was a lot of that in Boston.” He held her gaze and she simply nodded, before turning back to Mary.
“Ok Mary, how about we head into the office, get some forms signed and we can see about booking you in for your first lesson?” Frank watched as Fliss explained the importance of the kick-bolt on the bottom of the stable and showed her how to lock it before they three of them headed back onto the yard.
“Fliss, sorry to interrupt but do you want Cap and Bolt turned out?” a young girl with blonde hair approached them.
“Yeah, they’re not working today.” Fliss said, “But take them one at a time. Bolt’s taking to being a bit bargey. If he starts wrap the lead-rope round his nose.” “Will do.” “Thanks Jo.” she smiled, and the continued.
“What’s bargey?” Mary asked.
“Pushy.” Frank looked at her “Bossy.” “Like you?” Frank shot her a look and saw Fliss smiling to herself as she overheard.
“Or it could mean pain in the ass like you.” he shrugged. “Rude.” Mary shot back as Fliss opened the door to the office. Frank leaned over to hold it open.
“Thanks.” she looked at him smiling. He stepped in after Mary and they both stood, looking around taking it all in.
There was a large photo on the wall to the left, of someone, he presumed Fliss, on a horse jumping an obscenely high fence. On the wall at the back was a number of shelves, one containing files and the others a few more framed photos, one taken outside the gates to the yard of Fliss and a few others, he assumed her staff, and the other contained a number of trophies and a…
“Woah!” Mary said, scooting over “Is that yours?” “Sure is.” Fliss beamed, reaching up to retrieve the box frame. She led it flat on the desk and Mary scrambled up onto the chair to take a closer look.
The frame was split into two. On the right hand side was a photo of Fliss dressed in competition gear, navy jacket, red piping, white jodhs and a navy hat. She had a smile on her face that was literally ear to ear and round her neck sat the gold medal which was displayed in the left of the frame.
“London 2012…” Mary read the small plaque at the bottom “Frank, look…” “I can see.” he nodded, surprise evident in his tone. He looked at the woman “You were in the Olympics?” “Yeah.” she smiled “Only one though. Trained for years to get there…”
“Why only one?” Mary looked at her.
“Mary.” Frank groaned “Stop being nosey.” “It’s ok.” Fliss chuckled “A few months later at the World Championships later that year I had a nasty accident. I damaged my back and it took me nearly six months to recover. Sadly I lost my place on the team.” “Oh, that’s sad.” Mary looked at her.
“It’s a dog eat dog world kid.” Fliss shrugged “Not all bad though, I got into the training side of things which was great. Just my professional career didn’t work out.” There was a moments pause and Fliss replaced the photo and turned to Frank “Can I get you anything to drink?” “No, I’m good thanks.” he smiled.
“Ok, so…” Fliss said, “Mary I’m gonna need my seat back sweetie.” Mary obligingly jumped back down and Fliss took her vacated place, gesturing to the chair by the desk. Frank sat in it and Mary immediately jumped into his lap, her bare legs brushing slightly as she swung them to and fro.
“I have a few forms that you need to fill in and sign.” she said, apologetically “Legal stuff, contact details, waivers, that kind of thing. Safety is paramount at Sandybrook but, accidents to happen. Horse riding can be a dangerous sport…falls happen… as I know only too well.” Frank smiled and nodded.
“But I can give you those to take home, you can bring them with you when you come back.”  Fliss reached into her desk drawer. She pulled out a glossy leaflet and opened it. “Our price list is here. I’m not a huge outfit, I don’t have more than 3 kids on a lesson at a time. Mainly because I don’t have the horses but I prefer to focus on the students, not the profit. I try to keep overheads down as much as I can to keep the costs low…”
She bit her lip, she hated this part of the job, the sales patter as her dad called it. “So it really depends on what you want to do as to how expensive it is. Group lessons are $20 for forty five minutes and individual lessons are $30 for thirty. I do always insist on an individual lesson first, but that’s discounted to $20 for the first one.” Frank nodded, it wasn’t cheap but they’d manage. He’d already explained to Mary that she wouldn’t be able to do it every week, but he could certainly stretch to once a fortnight.
“That’s reasonable.” he said after a pause.
Fliss smiled “I’ve only been open a year or so now, but I’m planning on starting up a few Own a Pony days where the kids can come down and learn how to care for the horses as well as just ride. But that’s all in the planning stages.” “Well you have a good set up.” he said, and she beamed back.
“Thank you, a lot of graft went into setting it up. My mom and dad’s retirement didn’t start out quite as quiet as they had planned!”
“I can imagine.”
“Ok,so…the real expensive outlay is gonna come at the start.” she said, turning to Mary “You’ll need some boots and a hat kiddo.” Mary grinned up at Frank.
“I do have hats I can loan for a few lessons but it is better if they have their own.” she looked at Frank. “It’s the one thing I don’t recommend getting second hand. But boots and jodhpurs etcetera you can pick up on e-bay and the like.” Frank nodded “And the hat?”
“There’s a great store not far from here…hang on…”  she dug in her drawer again and produced a flier. “Here… the kid stuff is pretty reasonable to be fair, you’re probably looking at about $30 for a decent hat but they’ll help you out. If you take my brochure in you’ll get a 20% discount too.”
Mary took the flier from her and began examining it.
“That’s really it.” Fliss said, as she completed her mental check list “So all that’s left is to either book you in or you can call me…” “Please Frank!” Mary looked at him “Can we book?” Frank nodded “If you want.” “I do…” “Ok…what availability do you have?” Fliss opened the laptop and entered the diary and looked for a free spot.” “Does Wednesday at one suit?” she offered “I know once school starts you’ll probably want a weekend or evening but. whilst it’s the holidays does that work?”
Frank nodded “Yeah that’s fine. I can jiggle work around” Fliss tapped on the keyboard and smiled “All booked. If you want to leave me your number I send a text update out the night before just as a reminder.” Frank smiled, and gave out her number which she stored in the diary slot and then clicked saved “All done…guess I’ll see you Wednesday.” “Thanks.” he smiled “And thanks for showing us around.” “Not a problem.” she shook her head “Always important the clients get the tour of the place, to make sure they like it.” “Its awesome.” Mary looked up “Can we go here on the way home.” Frank sighed and looked at Fliss raising an eyebrow. She laughed.
“Yeah, get used to it. Once you get that horse smell on your hands it’s kind of an addiction.” “Frank hates animals.” Mary shrugged.
“I don’t hate animals.” Frank shook his head.
“You hate Fred.” “No, I don’t”
“You said before we should bring him so a horse steps on him.” Frank inwardly groaned as Fliss gave a chuckle.
“Fred is my cat.” Mary explained.
“Good name.” Fliss said “I have a few yard cats hanging around, they keep the mice at bay. And that reminds me, I haven’t seen Thor in a while…”
“Thor?” Mary looked at her
“Yeah, my dog…” Fliss stood up and opened the office door, giving a sharp whistle. “He never goes far.” As if on cue a large german shepherd came lolling down the yard to greet them. Frank eyed the dog, it was huge. Mary, right on cue jumped down off his lap.
“Can I stroke him?” “Go right ahead.” Fliss said, she looked at Frank and spotting his face she smiled “He’s a softie, looks the part though.” “Well I wouldn’t mess put it that way.” Frank snorted, standing up.
“Is he named after the Avenger?” Mary looked up “I love those films.”
“Sure is, he used to have a brother called Loki too but, well he died.”
Thor gave Mary a lick causing her to giggle before he flopped onto his side raising his paw.
“He wants a belly rub.” Fliss smiled, and Mary dropped to her knees to give the dog a tickle. His tail began to wag furiously on the floor and Mary laughed.
Frank watched the girl, smiling. He loved seeing her like this. She was so grown up and serious half the time, he yearned to see her acting like a normal seven year old. He was reticent to drag her away for that reason but he had work later that afternoon, a boat that needed finishing by Monday afternoon was taking him slightly longer than he had anticipated.
“Alright short stack, we gotta move…” “Do we hafta?” “Sorry kiddo.” Mary made a face.
“Do you wanna go to the store or not?” “Ok.” she said, jumping up and wiping dusting off her knees.
Fliss walked them to the truck which was parked in the car park and her eyes flew over to her horse wagon, a small 3.5 tonne box. Frank noticed her looking before she turned back to him
“Yours?”
“Yeah, I did have a bigger one but, well I don’t use it often enough now to warrant it. Maybe at some point I’ll get back into competing…never say never hey?” He smiled.
“Ok, so I’ll see you Wednesday.” she said To Frank’s utter surprise, Mary walked over to the woman and wrapped her arms around her, giving her waist as squeeze, her head pressing into Fliss’s stomach. Fliss bent over to give the girl a quick hug and smiled.
“It was nice to meet you both.” Fliss released Mary and gently ruffled her hair “I can’t wait to see you ride.” Mary headed over to the passenger side of the truck and stood on the sill so she could yank open the door. Fliss turned to Frank and looked at him, frowning slightly.
“Sorry, was that too much? I didn’t mean-” “Oh,God,no.” Frank stuttered, hastily shaking his head. “No, it’s just…well she’s never usually that affectionate with strangers. Not that you’re a stranger I suppose, not anymore but…” he shrugged.
 “I’m flattered then.” Fliss said, her pretty face cracking into a smile which Frank couldn’t help but return. There was a moment of silence where he simply looked at her before he started suddenly.
“I should…” he gestured to the truck with his keys.
“Yeah, sorry. Have a good day Mr Adler…” “Frank…” “Frank.” she corrected herself with another gorgeous smile “I’ll see you Wednesday.” With a smile of his own and a nod he walked to the truck and Fliss turned and headed back to the yard.
He climbed in and turned to Mary who was looking at him, smirking in a smug way that was well beyond her years.
“What?” he demanded.
“You like her.” Mary snorted.
“She’s a nice girl, I mean woman…lady…”
Mary didn’t say a word, simply sat back as Frank reached around for her belt before doing his own and setting the truck into reverse. Sometimes she was far too observant for her own good. *****
“If she gives you any trouble just tie her up on the porch.” Frank said as Mary settled on the couch in Roberta’s trailer. Roberta snorted and Mary glared at him.
“The only one who gives me trouble around here is you Frank Adler.” Roberta shot back. “Now scoot, Mary’s gotta tell me all about this pretty girl at the stables she says you’re sweet on.” “Jesus…” Frank groaned “I’m not sweet on her, she was just nice.”
“He googled her.” Mary said.
“You googled her” Roberta intoned.
“I was curious ok?” Frank sighed “And you asked me to!” “She’s an Olympic Gold medallist.” Mary chanted, draping herself over the arm of the sofa, head hanging, hair brushing the floor “At London 2012 but then she had an accident in the World Championships later that year and she broke two vertebrae…she didn’t compete again. And she was married to a guy called John Stazaker, he was on the US team but they’re divorced now. He’s in prison…but Frank didn’t tell me why.” “Because it’s none of your business, and you don’t mention it to her.” Frank said sternly, cutting her off.
Roberta looked at him curiously “But you’re not interested in her,at all.” “Like I said, curious.” he shrugged “Especially if she’s gonna be teaching Mary.”
“Mmmhmmm.” Roberta dropped her hands to her hips “Whatever you say honey…” Frank sighed and then looked at Mary. “Be good.” “I will, see you in the morning…”
He nodded and then headed out. It was a pleasant evening, the heat of the day had died down to an acceptable level and the ten minute walk down to the small strip of bars wasn’t as sticky as normal. It passed fairly quickly, he was lost in thought about the woman he had met before. It had made for surprising reading, a child star on the circuit the accident had cruelly robbed her of a future in the sport five years ago, and from the sounds of it her ass-hat ex-husband had stolen three years of her life too. Still, as he had told Mary, it was none of their business.
He yanked the door open to Fergs and headed over to the bar. Ordering his usual he perched on a stool and pulled over one of the papers, flicking it open. Taking a pull of the beer he was handed, he let out a sigh. Friday nights were always his time, his one night of the week where he wasn’t Frank with the Dead Sister and the child genius niece to bring up. He was just plain old Frank Adler, perpetual bachelor that might or might not get lucky, depending on how the night went.
Half an hour or so later he was another beer deep and completely lost in his reading. So much so he was barely aware of the body besides him as it slid into the space next to him at the bar. That was until they spoke.
“So how much did she sting you for at the store?”
Frank grinned at Fliss “Just short of a hundred. New hat, boots and a pair of jodhpurs.” Fliss giggled “Make sure she wears the boots in, they’re a killer for the first few days!” “I’ll bear it in mind.” he smiled “So, you hear alone or…” “Oh, no. It’s my Mum’s birthday so there’s a few of us out.” she said, glancing over her shoulder. Frank followed her eyes and settled on a table full of women who were all laughing. One looked quite similar to Fliss, same face shape and nose, who he assumed to be her mother. “If I’m honest it’s a bit boring considering they’re all over fifty but…” Frank laughed “Well I was gonna offer to buy you a drink but…” She laughed again “Thanks but, there’s a kitty going…” with that she turned to the bar tender. “Hiya, can I get 4 bud lights, a gin and tonic and a vodka soda please?” The bar tender nodded and headed off.
“Mary hasn’t shut up about Monty all afternoon.” Frank said and Fliss smiled.
“Like I said, once they get the bug they’re bitten.” “It’ll be good for her to have a hobby.” Frank repeated his earlier sentiment “She doesn’t get much interaction with kids her age.”
“Oh, what about School?” Fliss asked. Frank hesitated and took a drink from his bottle. Fliss let out a silent groan “Sorry, that’s really none of my business.” “No, it’s fine.” Frank shook his head, swallowing his beer. “She’s err, home schooled at the moment. My neighbour thought a hobby might be a good way for her to kinda do that before she goes to school.”
Fliss smiled “Well she’s not wrong. The kids I teach are great, I don’t stand for any crap, she’ll be welcomed with open arms.”
“Glad to hear it.” Frank smiled “Mary can be a litte…well, I suppose, odd is the right word. She’s old before her age.”
“Oh I know all about that.” Fliss smiled. “I spent most of my childhood training. Didn’t get chance to do much normal kid stuff. I was that focussed on my dream of gold medals…” “And you achieved it.” Frank nodded.
“Yeah, wish it had lasted longer you know, but what can you do.” she shrugged. “Hey, you never know, Mary might find a sudden hidden talent that catapults her into stardom…” Frank stiffened slightly and it didn’t go unnoticed by Fliss. She hesitated for a moment before Frank shook his head and smiled “Maybe, although that would really gonna fuck my bank balance…”
Fliss chuckled, eyeing him slightly. The man was a total mystery. At that the Bar Tender returned with a tray of drinks and she turned to pay him, waving away the change.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you Wednesday.” she smiled “Bye Frank.” “Yeah, have a good evening.” he smiled and she turned and walked away. Frank watched her go, the tight jeans she was wearing accentuated her ass and her legs, helped by the white heels she was wearing. The loose white cami top rode up slightly as she bent over to deposit the tray and when the woman he assumed to be her mother caught his eye and gave a knowing smirk he hastily turned around.
“Another beer please pal.” he said, waving his empty bottle
****
“Who’s that?”  Verity leaned over to Fliss as she settled in the seat next to her.
“Oh, that’s the guy I was telling you about.” she shrugged “the one who brought his niece up to the Centre this morning.” “I know you said he was good looking but…”
“Shut up Mum.” Fliss said, flushing slightly
“You’re old enough to be his mother.” Jane, one of the other women said and the table laughed.
“I wasn’t looking for me…” Fliss rolled her eyes “Seriously?” Verity laughed and placed her arm round her daughter, giving her a squeeze. “I’m just teasing Lissy, its just nice to see you talking to someone, that’s all.” Fliss smiled and grabbed her beer, taking a drink.
“Who the fuck was that?” John said, pointing across the packed bar to the man that Fliss had just smiled at.
“No one…” Fliss protested “Just a guy from work, that’s all.” “Right…” John said, the nerve in his jaw twitching. Fliss swallowed nervously and gently touched his arm.
“Honestly, he works at the stables. I was just being polite.”
“He’s eye fucking you.” “No, he’s not…” Fliss rolled her eyes and immediately realised what he had done when John gripped her chin painfully between his thumb and forefinger.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” he practically snarled.
“I’m sorry…” Fliss said, the tears springing forth “John you’re hurting me…” He let go and she dropped her head, turning back to the bar. She picked up her drink and took a long pull from the bottle, trying to compose herself. Her hand was shaking, she’d made him angry.
And she knew what that meant…
“Hey…” her mother’s voice shook her out of the memory and she looked up at her. “Oh Liss…”
“I’m ok…” she said, taking a breath.
Her mother looked at her again, and Fliss knew she was busted. “I was just…having a flash back that’s all.”
“He’s not here.” Verity dropped her voice “That fucker is where he belongs, behind bars and he won’t be bothering you again. Me and your dad promised you that…and we meant it.”
“I know, honestly I’m fine…” Fliss assured her mum who leaned over and gave her temple a soft kiss.
Fliss smiled back and shooting one last glance at Frank, who has his back to the table as he continued his reading, she turned to the women and threw herself into the conversation.
**** Chapter 2
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sapphicmsmarvel · 4 years
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JJ: Pregnancy PT 4- Labor
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-You and Reid were the only ones that hadn’t gone to Maryland. You couldn’t fly because you were in your third trimester, and Reid, well, he had to get requalified to shoot a gun later that day. 
-Reid, you and Garcia were in Garcias lair, Garcia was researching as you and Reid put your input in.
-You were currently diving into your most prominent pregnancy craving, popcorn dipped in pickle juice. Yes, it was quite disgusting to others, including Garcia who told you, “if you spill pickle juice, I will ensure that your child's first word is a swear word.” To which you laughed. 
-But then, you felt a sharp pain. You winced, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. It had been happening earlier in the day, you were sure it was braxton hicks contractions, you dealt with them last week, wasted a whole hospital visit checking them out. You were waiting until your actual water broke. 
-You sighed, “I’m gonna go get some cookies and dip them in peanut butter.” They both chuckled, your cravings changed constantly. 
-As you got up, you felt something, it felt like discharge but you knew it wasn’t. “Guys,” You breathed.
-They both turned, “my water broke.” You breathed. Oh, how you were absolutely terrified. 
-Garcia squealed. “Oh my God!’ She turned to Reid, “you take her to the hospital. I’ll call JJ, Hotch said she could fly in no matter where they were in the case.” 
“Take my car, it has my pregnancy bag.” You handed Reid your lanyard that had the keys. 
-He gently guided you to the car. People stared, people congratulated you, it was all very odd, you hated the attention but appreciated the sentiment. He got you to the car, buckled in, and prepared for the hospital. 
-Another contraction hit, you groaned, “I swear to fucking god if this labor takes longer than 24 hours, I will kill someone.” “Did you know the longest labor was 75 days?” Reid nervously babbled off as you guys pulled out of the parking lot. 
You felt like you were gonna throw up, “Reid…” You trailed off. 
He took the hint, “the shortest labor was two minutes.” He offered. 
You sighed, “that’s much better.”
“Taller women are more likely to give birth to twins.”
“Thank God, we checked. There’s one bitch in there.”
You looked at Reid to see him smile slightly, “should you be cussing since babies can hear you in the womb?”
“Should you be criticising the mother?” You punched his shoulder jokingly and he smiled back.
Then you winced, another sharp pain radiating through your stomach, “speed Reid, we get pulled over, we show our badges and say a baby is about to pop out of my vagina.” 
“On it.” He swallowed. 
-You heard your guys’ phones go off, pinging constantly, you answered JJ’s call. “Hey babe.” 
“Are you okay? How dilated are you? Are you eating ice chips?” “If going into labor and being a pain is okay, then yes I am. I don’t know and no. I’m not at the hospital yet.” 
“I’m boarding the plane now, the team is staying behind. Am I on speaker?” 
“Yeah.”
“Reid, you stay with her no matter what.” “Already was planning on it.” Reid answered as you guys turned into the parking lot of the hospital. 
“Okay, when will you be here?”
“3 hours tops. I love you so much, goodbye.” “I love you too.” You answered. 
-Reid got you into the waiting room, shouting, “we have a woman in labor!” 
-That got their attention. 
-In ten minutes you were in a private room, Reid was next to you, holding your hand. They had brought you ice chips, then the doctor came in. 
-Before you let him even touch you or your baby you said, “listen here buddy, if you put a husband stitch in me I will destroy your career. I will sue your ass. Do you understand? Cause if you don’t understand, I will find another doctor. Don't test me.” 
He nodded and said, “of course. Would you be more comfortable with a woman?” He offered. 
You shook your head. 
-He said you were at 2 centimeters, so you had a lot of time to kill. Reid went out and got your bag, you guys tossed a stress ball back and forth, colored a coloring book that you had in your bag, read a book that you had stashed for this exact reason. 
-You felt your anxiety crawling up your throat, the hot feeling of anxiety crept up your arms. “Reid, talk to me about something. Anything, any random fact in that head of yours.” 
“Hitler invented sex dolls.” “What?”
“He wanted to keep his soldiers away from prostitutes, so he invented the dolls.”
“Not gonna lie, I didn’t expect that one.” 
-Thus, that started a whole discussion about random facts. 
“A dentist invented the electric chair.”
“That makes sense, I feel like dentists are just people who haven’t discovered certain kinks yet, with all the weird ass tools they use.” 
“You can’t bring a furby into the pentagon.”
“Sounds about right, they are the devil.”
“Mary Shelley allegedly lost her virginity on her mother's grave.”
“That is so fucked up.” 
-JJ arrived 3 hours later, right when you were 6 centimeters. She ran in and gave you a kiss right on the lips. “Keep that up and we’re gonna make another baby.” You said. 
“That’s not how it works.” She giggled. 
“I know, but don’t give me any ideas.” 
-She said hi to Reid and said, “this is gonna be another 5 hours, you can go home.” “I drove Y/N’s car, you guys are stuck with me.”
At least you weren’t left in bad company. 
-Pretty soon you were getting irritable and sweaty.  JJ asked Reid to go get you more ice chops, he went happily, you were being a bit of a bitch but he couldn’t be mad at you, you were extremely uncomfortable. 
JJ wet a towel that was in your bag and patted it onto your forehead, “I’m sorry.” You mumbled.
“It’s okay, baby.” She said,
You sighed, “I’m gonna buy Reid a book after this, I’ve been a pain in the ass.” 
“He understands.” She said softly. 
“I still feel bad. I can be a real bitch.” “At least you’re beautiful.” 
You scoffed, “I’m sweaty, bitchy, hungry and pissed off. How can I be beautiful right now?” 
“You are.” She shrugged, “you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, you have the most beautiful soul, you are a loving mother to the boys and the little one in there. I love you more than anything.” Your eyes were watering, she gave you a kiss. 
-Reid came back to you crying, he was really confused and worried. “What happened?” 
“JJ’s being a sweetheart. I’m okay, hey Reid?” You sniffed. “Yeah?” He asked, handing you the ice chips. “I love you,” you squeezed his hand. 
“I love you too.” He smiled and kissed your forehead. 
-The pain was getting worse, which meant you were getting closer to the birth of the baby. The doctor came in after Reid went and got him. “You’re about to become a mom Y/N.” The doctor said. 
-Your eyes widened, “oh God.” 
-The doctor told Reid that only the moms were allowed there and the nurses. He left but didn’t go far, he stood outside the door. 
-His stomach lurched when he heard your screaming. You were his best friend and you were in pain. 
-JJ was trying to keep her cool, she was worried obviously. You were her wife and her child was coming today. 
-After a painful thirty minutes, you guys heard the cry of your beautiful baby. All three of you were crying. 
-”It’s a girl.” The nurse said, going to clean up your child.  You started sobbing some more and went to reach for her. Another nurse jumped in, “we have to take her vitals, put a bracelet on her foot, then you can hold her okay?” 
You nodded, crying more. JJ leaned over and kissed your head, “she’s here.” She breathed. “Our baby girl is here.” 
You sniffed. 
-It felt like an eternity before the nurse handed you your baby back. You quickly wiped your eyes and took her. Of course, more tears slipped out and JJ wiped them away gently. She leaned her head on your head, both of you gazing down at your beautiful daughter. 
-She had opened her eyes, they were your eye color. Her face was red and splotchy from crying, she was the most beautiful baby you had ever seen. 
-”Do we have a name?” The nurse asked gently. 
You looked at JJ, you had agreed on a gender neutral name, in case your baby doesn’t feel connected with being a female, they don’t have to change their name, but you knew that if they wanted to, you and JJ would have their backs. 
“Aiden Penelope L/N-Jareau”
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k-llama-llama · 4 years
Text
Main
Stray Kids AU: 10th member
Tori x Stray Kids
Tori has to step up and prove why she’s one of the best.
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“You aren’t wearing sunscreen, are you?” The stylist sighed as soon as Tori walked into the room.
Tori smiled sheepishly. “I want freckles?”
Deciding it wasn’t worth arguing, the stylist turned away. “You should hurry out there, though, they’re starting to work thinks out with the new dancers.”
“Going.” Tori dropped her gym bag in the corner. They were starting the first rehearsal for their tour today, and that meant figuring out choreography and positioning with a lot of dancers that they didn’t normally work with.
“You’re late.” Seungmin hissed as she hurried out onto the stage.
“I had to stop by the pharmacy.” She patted down her pockets. “Shit, I don’t have a-”
“Scrunchie.” Jeongin held out out.
She took it with a grin, bopping him on the nose. “You’re a peach.”
“I know.” He beamed.
Tori knotted her hair into a bun as she moved through the dancers to the front, where Hyunjin, Felix and Minho were talking with Chan. Her bangs were getting a little long, but she was under strict orders not to handle scissors, and so she had to deal with the hair just hanging in her face.
“Tori!” Hyunjin exclaimed. “Where have you been?”
“Uh, here the whole time, obviously.” She winked, coming to stand in their circle. “So, what’s the sitch?”
“We’ve got forty dancers,” Minho began, “And we need to cut it down to twenty. They’re going to run the choreo a few times, and we’ll just watch and coach as we see fit before we talk to the choreographer and figure out who we’re cutting.”
“We’re figuring it out?” She gasped.
“You guys are.” Chan clarified, pointing at them. “We’ll be doing the choreo so they can practice formations.”
“We’re like professionals, or something.” Felix laughed.
“Tori take the far right, I take the left, and Hyunjin and Felix in the middle?” Minho suggested.
“Sounds good.” The spread out.
“Have fun leading a dance practice, Leader.” Tori winked as she walked away.
“Yah, can you even see with those bangs?”
“I’ll trim it when I get home.”
“You will not.”
Tori took her spot at the end of the dancers as Chan and the other boys started to lead them through the choreography for Double Knot. She studied the dancers carefully as they moved, trying to see who she thought fit and who didn’t. They each had a number pinned to their shirts, and a few started to stand out.
For all that she joked around, she was pretty confident on her ability to dance. And judge dancing. And while everyone here was a great dancer, some were just not fitting well.
“Number 18...and 4.” She said to the staff, who jotted it down on a clip board. She saw a couple of numbers on there already, likely suggestions from the boys.
She noticed one dancer, number 24, who was standing out in a different way. Though he was obviously talented, he was putting way too much into each move. She couldn’t even see his face from where she was standing, but she imagined his expressions to be exaggerated. He danced like he was in the centre, making his rhythm completely different to the others around him.
The staff called for a break, and everyone walked over to get some water. Tori decided to go and speak to Number 24. He was good, and if he calmed down she didn’t see a reason to cut him.
“Hey.” She said, walking over to where he was sitting with a couple of other boys. Two of them jumped to their feet, bowing in greeting, but the one she was speaking too just nodded politely.
“Hi, sunbae.” One of the other boys said.
Tori shook her head, not used to being called sunbae. “How was it? You all didn’t find it too hard?”
“No, we’ve been practicing.” One of them said earnestly
“Piece of cake.” Number 24 said.
“Hmmm,” Tori gave him a smile. “I hope you all won’t mind some advice from me?”
“No, please!” 
“We’d love your advice!” They sounded excited at just not being one of the boys that were being quietly pulled away by staff and asked to leave. Input from her meant she cared enough to speak to them.
She directed her words at all of them as she knelt down. “Just make sure you’re following the crowd. You’re all talented, but your job as a dancer isn’t to stand out individually, it’s to look good as part of a group. Make sure you feel the energy of the group and don’t-”
“That threatened by me, huh?”
You could’ve heard a pin drop in their little circle as Tori turned her head towards Number 24.
“I beg your pardon?” She asked.
“Sorry, but I could tell you were staring at me. Was I that good, or am I just your type?” 
Tori considered him for a moment. She had a feeling he wasn’t trying to be a jerk, he was just naturally arrogant. 
“Actually, Park Jaehyun,” She read his name off of his tag. “You’re stood out so much that I thought I’d warn you.”
“Warn me?”
“Yeah. That you’d better cool down by the next round or you’ll be out.” She wasn’t sure where her nerve was coming from, maybe too much time with Zoey, but dance was the one area where she refused to be pushed around or talked down to, not anymore.
“So what I said, threatened by me,” He grinned.
“Jaehyun-ah.” One of his friends hissed. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t need to calm down.” Jaehyun insisted. “I just have stage presence. Which you would know nothing about.”
Tori clenched her jaw, standing quickly.
He stood too, and was much taller than her.
Their sudden movement drew attention, as everyone could clearly see a confrontation going down.
“Tor? Everything okay?” Chan appeared next to her.
“Yeah, everything is fine.” She tilted her head. “I was just telling Jaehyun here that he can leave.”
“Yah, you just wish you were on my level.” Jaehyun rolled his eyes.
“She’s our main dancer for a reason, you-”
“Chan.” Tori held out a hand to prevent him from stepping in front of her. “I’ve got this.”
“You’ve...got...oh, okay.” He looked both concerned and very curious about what was going to happen.
“I’ll leave.” Jaehyun smirked. “But you’ll regret this.”
“Sure, but can I give you one more piece of advice?” Tori gave her sweetest smile.
“Sure, baby, do whatever you want.”
“Okay, I-”
“That thing you called stage presence?” Tori crossed her arms. “Yeah, what it actually is shitty compensation. You know the moves, sure, anyone can learn those, but you have zero sense of balance and it shows how you have to compensate by throwing more into each move. Your complete lack of control  might work in a solo, but when you’re dancing with skilled dancers, like everyone else here, you look like a rookie. So maybe you should focus less on your stage presence and more on your skill, because you can only compensate for so much, you know?” She let her eyes drift downwards just enough for him to get what she was implying.
“What the hell are you....I....” He sputtered for words.
“We’ll escort you out.” A staff member appeared next to him. 
“Oh, and-” Tori stopped him before he turned away. “Apologize.”
“What, to you?”
“No, to your fellow dancers.” She gestured lazily around. “Since you seem to think their job is so easy.”
His mouth dropped open.
Tori winked. “Better luck next time?”
She turned easily and marched over to where the rest of Stray Kids was waiting.
“Yah Noona, you’re so cool.” Jeongin gasped.
She snorted. “Hardly, but that guy was an asshole.”
“And a terrible dancer.” Minho grinned. “You tried to be nice about it, but I saw him from over on my side.”
“Just too arrogant.” Tori shook her head. “And I know I marched away like a badass, but I actually left my water bottle in the dressing room. So I’ll be back.”
“Don’t yell at anyone else!” Changbin called after her.
Tori hurried down the hall to the dressing room, finding it empty. Her gym bag was still in the corner, and she knelt next to it and pulled out her water bottle.
She heard the door slam behind her and stood up with a start.
“Sorry.” Chan apologized. “I didn’t mean for that to be creepy.”
“Well, it was.” Tori laughed, feeling her heartbeat slow down. “I almost had a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry.” He said again.
Tori took a big swig of water. “I’ll forgive you. Why’d you follow me?”
“Because,” He walked over, a cheeky grin spreading on his face. “I needed to do this.”
“Do wha-” She was cut off when he pressed his lips against hers, and pulled away before she could even blink.
“Chan!” She scolded. “Someone could see us!”
“I closed the door for a reason.” He took the water bottle from her hand and put it on the table. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, pressing another kiss to her lips. Tori allowed herself to melt into him, her eyes closing and her arms coming up to his shoulders.
“So sneaky just for a kiss?” She breathed, pulling away by only an inch.
“Well, I also wanted to tell you that you’re a total badass and I’m completely in love with you.” He grinned. “But I thought that -”
“What?” Her mouth dropped open.
“What?” He blinked, not sure of why she looked so shocked.
“You just said that you’re in love with me.”
“I say that I love you all of the time.”
“You also say that you love Felix all of the time. You’ve never said that you’re in love with me before.”
“Oh,” He pulled back slightly. “Is that not okay? Because I am. I really, really am.”
Tori was pretty sure her face was going to explode from how big her smile is. “It’s more than okay. Because I’m really, really in love with you too.”
“Really?” Chan beamed. “You mean it?”
Tori nodded. “I mean it.” He stood, pressing a kiss right onto the tip of his nose. “But we really need to go back out before they wonder where we are.”
“I thought we were having a moment.” Chan protested. “You can’t make me go back out there now.”
Tori picked up her water bottle, before giving him the quickest kiss she ever had. He didn’t even react to it. 
“I love you. But I have a reputation as a serious dancing lady to maintain.”
“Urgh, fine.” He grabbed her hand. “But if another dancer gives you trouble, let me know.”
“Why, I didn’t terrify them enough with that one?”
Chan snorted. “I think you terrified all of them. Including Jeongin, for the record.”
Tori’s eyes widened. “But he’s baby, he isn’t allowed to be scared of me.”
Chan held open the door for her. “You can comfort him after you finish picking out dancers. We need professional Tori for another hour or so.”
“Admit it, you like professional Tori the best.” She teased.
“I think...I like my girlfriend Tori the best.” Chan smiled down at her.
Tori sighed. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool too.”
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sunriseseance · 4 years
Note
HECK YEAH alrighty here we go then! 1. Broadly: what do you predict we'll see from Klaus in s3? I know you've mentioned him snapping a bit- what're your thoughts on what that might entail? (1/?)
I think that Klaus is experiencing his first full moment of independence, especially power independence, at the same time he is experiencing extreme emotional turmoil. They’ve told us that alcohol (at east) does jack shit to prevent his powers. I think that he has spent a long, long time with people who (IMO) do care about him, but don’t think about him all that often. “Klaus is still Klau” as a modus operandi for the entire family, at least at default. Now he no longer has a Powerful or Moral (although I have my problems with this interpretation) Ben to lean on, I think we’re gonna see a Klaus who is coming into his own, who is hurting deeply in ways the sibling do not (and possibly cannot, Klaus lies and masks A LOT) know, and who feels that the turmoil inside of him belongs outside. 
2. Do you expect to see Klaus’ powers expanded on in s3, and if so, how do you think they’ll go about that? I think levitation and telekinesis would be amazing but seeing as they’ve already given those away to his siblings, I don’t think it’s all that likely. I love your clairvoyance theory (more on that shortly), and I've been playing with the idea of a telepath or empath Klaus, something akin to his "channeling" powers from the comics. (2/?)
I think that probably the primary thing in store for Klaus is commanding ghosts and being possessed. These play together interestingly and are both extremely powerful. He can command an army without a second thought, and they listen to him, but also if he slips up they can jump in his body, he’s gone and they’re in charge. It’s an interesting and fruitful dichotomy and power structure. Also I think he can make ghosts possess other people. They made a big point of showing that Klaus was conscious before Ben entered Vanya’s mind. If he can command spirits, and spirits can possess other people that is a great deal of power. (Also, like, Klaus is able to make Ben not possess him. Neither of them may know it, but he DOES command spirits. He does.)
As to his comic powers, I think we may very well get them!! They’ve teased levitation multiple times in s2 alone, and I think this idea that a show about shitty superheroes would care if their powers were redundant does not quite vibe with me. Like, what’s the point of Luther if Vanya can stop bullets and lift a tank with sound waves. Klaus’s version of TK could EASILY have its own niche (no need for a trajectory or sound waves). I don’t want to promise that it’s coming because, like, focusing on his psychic related powers is more cohesive, but I don’t think that the option is in any way off the board. 
3. If they go ahead and give him clairvoyance, how would you like to see that play out? 4. Similarly, do you think his possession powers will be explored further in s3? (3/?)
I think that giving him clairvoyance would be a very handy plot device on top of being interesting for the character. Klaus’s powers have pushed him to the extremes of apathy. Imagine what that would look like if he has the capacity to know everything? He is a person who deals with the hurt of others by denying everything. He has had too much asked of his empathy and compassion. Giving him clairvoyance gives him access to all the hurt in the world. I would love to see that. I would love to see his brain forcing him to care about people because in this particular regard he CAN 100% help. 
Yes absolutely I think his possession powers will be explored further. I know this is a controversial subject, but I think the show took care to make it clear that is is awful and terrifying for him (however it was for Ben) and that it plays interestingly with his ability to summon and command spirits. It serves as a way to even the playing field, almost. He command them, they can take him over. That’s scary for everyone. I don’t think this is one and done at all. 
4. I would LOVE to hear more about your thoughts on Hotel Oblivion's influence on TUA s3- disclaimer, I haven't read the comics (yet). (4/?)
YES OKAY. Based on my own personal desires and my knowledge of the comics (Sparrows locked up) and also the Sparrow crest, I think s3 is going to include at least some of Team Zero locked in the hotel. It could EASILY be all of them, but I could see Reg deciding to keep Five, and even Vanya. This would be interesting because it allows Five to age, allows Five to rest, allows Vanya to see the horrors of actually BEING on a super hero team, and requires 1-4 to save themselves, and in my IDEAL world, save Five from Reg, as well. It would be so fun to watch 1-4 escape the hotel and rescue Five. IMO the hotel is going to be the best if it is treated as a piece of horror. Not something they can understand, something simultaneously enticing and hostile, and something that they have to fight their individual Bullshits to escape. Whoever is in it. I think that would be beautiful. 
5. How would you like to see Klaus' character develop this season? Seeing as s2 has left him unprecedentedly broken, I think this will lead to an AMAZING pay off in s3, esp when it comes to him being without Ben. His powers have so much potential (even w/o the comic book expansion pack) but they have all have come back to Ben's help. This is true of his choices too- Ben is constantly supporting/criticizing him. I'm so excited to see him alone and newly independent. (5/?)
YES SO MUCH. We watch Klaus shatter and regress completely in s2. I know a lot of people feel he wasn’t treated with respect by the narrative, and I respect that, but my general thinking is that this is a part of the whole, and everything we saw of him is in line with a) intense hurt b) the act he puts on. I think that Klaus shattered in s2. He killed the love of his life, he relapsed, and he did his best to make sure nobody cares about him. Ben turned into more of a harmful figure in his life than ever before, and now he’s lost him completely, left with only guilt, resentment, and complicated feelings. 
I think Klaus is going to actually have to DEAL with himself. He’s been able to deflect or hide or bury his hurt and his power and everything else. Like you said, he relied on Ben for a lot, and now it is only him. I think he is going to externalize the chaos he feels inside (and so does Sheehan), and I think he is going to have to confront who Klaus REALLY is, whatever that means. I think he will admit he is powerful, he is hurt, and he is angry. Ultimately, I think this will lead to him with more balance, and he will have a better understanding of himself. But I think he MUST snap a bit first. Nobody takes him seriously, not even himself. He has to change that before he can move on. 
6. How would you like to see Klaus' relationships with his siblings grow this season? I am wondering how him mourning Ben will be received by his siblings. I am also thinking a lot about whether him hitting rock bottom & truly alone for the first time will push him to be more vulnerable and open with his siblings OR if it'll be his breaking point where he shutters out everything he can, emotions and more OR a mix of both. (6/?)
This is a really good question. I’m not at all sure I have a definitive answer, but here I am typing anyway. I think the obvious setup of the first 2 seasons is that everyone thinks Klaus is fine, and that he can Manage, whatever that looks like. This includes Klaus. So my Most Fruitful Idea is to show that he isn’t fine, in a way he cannot hide. I feel like possession could be a good start to this, but so could him diminishing in his ability to respect ghosts, or many other things. Basically, I want the siblings to see through Klaus’s act. None of them, fucking none of them, ever have. He’s done his best to make that the case. I want the act to spread thin in s3, which I think is supported by how the act looks in s2, and I want the sibs to see through it finally, and I want it to be almost too late because he’s lost and angry and goddamn POWERFUL and he knows them in ways they have never known him. 
Also, I like the idea of Klaus and Allison snapping together. They are the two who lack hope, the two who accept as a blanket the end of the world, the two who enable each other, and also the two who bonded with Vanya. Seeing them go down a dark path, and seeing Vanya recognize it and help them stray away from it? Amazing. 
7. Any songs you would love to see in s3? (7/7) Sorry for the IMMENSE amount of questions, comments, and concerns, I have been pondering these things for weeks and since I always adore your tua content, I would love to hear your thoughts and any input from others!!
YES SO SO SO MUCH
I would love “Be True To Your School” by the Beach Boys because of the 60s and the irony factor. Any Bob Dylan song would send me to an early grave due to joy, but I’m gonna say especially “A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall” which is an incredible song about futility and trying and hurt. I also love the idea of ANY Masseduction by St. Vincent song, but I would especially nominate Masseduction, Young Lover, and Happy Birthday Johnny. 
ALSO NO NO NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE AT ALL THIS WAS SOOOOOOOOOO FUN OH MY GOD do this any time (or come off anon and into my DMs I promise I’m friendly). Thank you so so much!!!
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vanaera · 4 years
Text
Of Cliches and Romcom Tropes
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Synopsis | You find yourself literally living a classic Romcom trope by being the nerdy introvert in love with her unexpected friend, Kim Taehyung, your university’s golden theater boy and campus heartthrob. It only turns more disgustingly cliché when you learn he part-times as a prince actor in the same carnival where you work as a ticket booth attendant. Trusting on the clichés you’ve watched in numerous Romcom films, you embark on a plan to get your crush to like you back this Halloween. Pairing | prince actor!taehyung x ticket booth attendant!oc Genre | So much fluff, slight angst, humor that’s close to being crack Wordcount | 10,184 AU | Carnival Prompt | “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.” – “I bet you tell everyone that.” Warnings | None A/N | This is for @foreverpark​’s Halloween Writing Challenge! It’s my first time joining a challenge like this so thank you so much Sarah for giving me an opportunity to experience this! For my hons out there, here’s my Halloween fic for you! Please also check out Sarah’s fics and the other fics for this challenge, they’re all great! Happy reading!
               At every start of success story speeches, there is a ninety percent probability you will hear “Fake it ‘til you make it.” How Mark managed to chance upon an idea of an app, How Sarah snagged the director position she dreamed of, how introverted Kim developed progressive networks–it is an imperative that saying will pop out in every single one of these stories. Well, except yours, because it’s the other way around in your life. At times “Fake it ‘til you make it’ does makes a cut, but in most of your major life events where you desperately wished for it to work, it doesn’t really work. You know because you’ve long tried to fake you’re so invested in your part-time job, only for you to cry out at night that you didn’t want to do it anymore.
               Sitting on an uncomfortable stool with a small fan on your right as reprieve from the heat, you spend most of your day with cramped legs inputting number of tickets sold, handing over ticket stubs, becoming an instant customer service attendant, and smiling through clenched teeth at the people that stop by your booth. Working the most boring job in the carnival is not something you can fake to enjoy until you make enough savings for your college tuition. That is, until Kim Taehyung came.
               “Wonder boy” is an extreme understatement to describe that guy. Kim Taehyung is cute and has a model-esque body and his voice sounds so nice when he’s in his prince costume entertaining the kids who enter the Fairytale Land booth. Okay, maybe you’ve been staring at him too long than you’re supposed to when you’re at work. But in your defense, you’ve known Kim Taehyung long before you discovered he also part-times at the Enchanted Carnival–long enough for you to harbor a massive, embarrassing crush on the boy.
               Kim Taehyung studies in the same university as you and you first saw him the day you didn’t attend your history class just so you can prepare for your midterms in the said subject–the irony of college students’ philosophy. That day, you just entered a classroom you frequent for study purposes, knowing it will be empty during your history period. Except for that day because the moment you pushed open the door, a stable vibrato echoing within the rooms’ walls halts in an awkward coughing fit.
               Your anxiety-driven nerves immediately take over you. “Uhh, I’m sorry I just barged in I didn’t mean to interrupt you–”
               “No, it’s o-okay,” the boy coughs, hitting his chest repeatedly. “I was just su-surprised.”
               “I’m really sorry for interrupting you,” you take a step back, your hand grasping for the knob. “Continue on, I’ll just find another room–”
               “No, it’s okay, you can share the room with me.”
               “A-are you sure?” you squint, still rooted at the door. “You don’t have like, a class in here or something? You have a projector set up on the teacher’s desk.”
               “Nah, it’s just my prop when I do my final runs.” He walks to the projector and flips down its lens cover. A picture of a wooden fort set in what looks like cobble-stoned streets of 18th century France flashes on the white board. “See?” The boy turns to you, grinning. “I’m cutting just like you. No pressure, mate. Stay.”
               “B-but you’re practicing, I may distract you.”
               “It’s okay, I don’t mind some audience–unless, you get distracted from studying by music, then I’ll go and find–”
               “No, it’s okay,” you chuckle. “I don’t get distracted by music. I love music. Actually, I like listening to songs while I study so yeah, go on.” You set your papers on the nearest seat and plop down.
               “You do?” The boy asks and you find yourself smiling at his beaming face. You’ve never seen someone who smiles so bright like him on a constant-interaction basis.
               “Yeah, I do. By the way, what are you singing for?”
               “Oh yeah,” the boy scratches his nape, reds forming on the tips of his ears. “uh, this is for my Drama club. I’m still in the application process and we have this task to play and perform as a theater character tomorrow Friday. I wanted to do Jean Valjean from Les Miserables.”
               “Wow, that’s great,” you smile, “actually I’m studying for my History midterms, so yeah, your practice is very timely. You can be my background music,” you chuckle, “to give me the better feel of what I will be crying over later back at my home.”
               Taehyung laughs and you chuckle before going back on your own devices. An hour and a half passes with you flipping furiously through your reviewer in time with the instrumentals behind Taehyung’s velvet voice. When the bell rings and the afternoon class scheduled in the room starts to form a mini clique outside, you scramble out the door with a mess of papers pressed to your chest and a new name to mull over during your breaks: Kim Taehyung.
               Unlike what you predicted, that encounter was not the last you will have with the theater boy. You had a couple of classes with him in the next semester and he sat next to you in each lectures. You also became partners for a pair project in your Communication Theories class. Kim Taehyung became a regular presence in your college life that at the end of your sophomore year, you knew his dream of becoming a theater actor, all his likes, dislikes and insecurities, and even his secrets he said his friends knew none of like “Y/N, do you know I used to dream of becoming a Disney prince? Not used to, actually I still low-key dream of playing Shang from Mulan just so I can sing ‘Make a Man Out of You.’”                You never imagined you would hit up such a friendship with someone who’s the total polar opposite of you. Taehyung’s a social butterfly while you hate going out of your house. He knows almost three-fourth of the total population in the university with him getting to manage nine clubs while still maintaining his academics. In total contrast to you who never got to join any organizations, too afraid of making commitments you neither can fulfill nor prioritize over staying at home and reading your fiction books. Not to say Taehyung’s on the top of the strata with his handsome looks, blessed physique, impressive talent, and wide range of friends. While you’re someone who easily blends with the crowd’s background noise, with nothing too much to offer but a small group of friends and a fascination for critiquing movies–especially those that are really bad.
               You guess that people say, “Opposites attract” for a reason because when you and Taehyung move on to sophomore year, you find yourself crushing hard on the boy. However for you, the attraction is definitely going to be one-sided. You’re sure of it because how can Taehyung ever like you back? You’re the epitome of average-ness that you even became the stepping stone for the girls who want to snag a date with Taehyung. Of course you wouldn’t let Taehyung miss out on cute girls he can probably date when he can have any girl he wish to be with. And, you’re too chicken to act out even a hint of your feelings for him. Clammy hands, jumpy heart, and equipped with an instinct to run to the opposite hall when you so much as glance at Taehyung’s approaching figure, you are sure he will be the death of you. Everything turns worse when you learn he part-times this summer break in the same carnival you work pathetically.
               “Yo, Y/N, you work here, too?” Taehyung nears you, clad in a white polo dangerously unbuttoned down his chest, navy trousers that cinches his narrow hips, and brown combat boots. He is also wearing an unbuttoned red military jacket, its shoulder pads making his shoulders look broader than they’d ever been.  A rich red cape embellished with golden details flows behind him, complementing the gold tassels on his jacket and his golden crown that makes him look impossibly more ethereal. He fucking looks like a brunet Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle.
               You consciously glance down at your outfit: sweat-stained purple polo shirt with Enchanted Carnival’s logo embroidered on its breast pocket, tucked in generic black slacks that doesn’t fit you well. When you  reach up to tuck the stray strand of hair that escapes your ponytail, you’re reminded you’re still wearing the silly mandatory headband with pink bunny ears. Your face feels oily, your hair’s unwashed, and you just remembered you’re not wearing any makeup on. Great, you fucking look like all college students’ worst job nightmare.
               “Hey, you’re still there?”
               “Ye-yeah, uh, hi, Tae,” you smile awkwardly, snatching your headband off and hiding it behind your back. You tried to make yourself look less embarrassing but it backfired when all short strands of your hair messily spill down to your cheeks. You smile wider. Okay, this is the worst day ever.
               “I didn’t know you’re also working here,” Taehyung says.
               “Umm, yeah. I forgot to tell you, I’m sorry–”
               “No, no, no, it’s okay!” Taehyung waves his hands, laughing. “In fact this is great!”
               “Great?” You want to jump off from a cliff right on.
               Taehyung remains oblivious in your self-pity and just grins. “Yeah, it means I get to see you everyday even when we’re outside uni!”
               “We do see each other outside uni. I tutored you for six months straight in the library.”
               “Yeah, but I mean, it’s nice we get to be co-workers. It’s good to have a familiar face around so work wouldn’t be so boring. Say, Y/N, why don’t we have lunch at the cafeteria later? I have so many to tell you and–”
               “Yah, Kim Taehyung! You’re up next, what are you doing outside?” you glance behind your friend and see Jimin, dressed in the same uniform as you minus the silly headband, wildly waving for the boy in front of you. When Jimin notices you, he breaks into a smile, “Oh, hi, Y/N,” and then he returns to his agenda. “Taehyung come here quickly! The batch of kids is nearing the Princess’ Castle, boss is gonna chew us out if you didn’t get back to the booth in three!”
               Taehyung sighs and looks at you with shoulders drooped. “I have to go back now. Guess, I’ll see you later?”
               “Okay, later, then. Have fun, Tae,” you wave at him with a smile.
               When you head back for your booth, you cross your fingers and hope you don’t see him later. How can the universe do you this dirty by placing him so near you right when you are at your worst?
               At the end of the day, you learn the universe just does you dirty for the hell of it. Taehyung bounds your way for lunch break in his prince costume, grinning stupidly just when you’re about to sneak off to the comfort rooms. Nevertheless, you accept the lemons life is giving you and decide to relish in your crush’s presence as you joke over lunch. You just didn’t expect that day will start an unannounced routine with Taehyung eating lunch with you and him walking you home after your shifts for the rest of your summer break.  The seemingly grey area in your friendship with Taehyung turns more mind-boggling when the man keeps up with the routine even after the summer break has ended, with you two continuing your part-time jobs at the carnival every weekend.
               Truth be told, your set-up with Taehyung is a blessing in disguise. He may see you greasy-faced, constantly suffering at work, and daily pissed at your cramped station with poor ventilation but at least you get to see the man you fell in love with everyday. Not just the Taehyung who’s the campus crush and the talented actor every kid in the carnival loves. But the Taehyung who stays up with you until three in the morning talking about what you want for yourselves, who genuinely laughs at your puns and memes everyone else finds corny, and who tells you he’s enjoying himself in his job because finally, he gets to act like a Disney prince.
               So when you find yourself only falling for Taehyung deeper, getting over him becomes the last resort in your to-do list. You start to let yourself get ahead of you and assume that maybe, just maybe, there is a chance Taehyung likes you back. Or else he wouldn’t do all those things with you with his stare lingering on your face, and his hand brushing against your own on multiple occasions you swear are not conjured up by your lovesick heart. Right?
               With the Halloween season closing in and your part-time contracts at the carnival nearing its end, you are compelled to finally make a move on Taehyung. The carnival is the only place where your social and visual gap matters the least.  You’re going to get an answer from him before this perfect chance expires. All you have to do now is have courage for the things you’re about to do and you pray that this time, the universe lets you successfully fake it ‘til you make it.
***
 Plan 1: The Makeover Montage
               You’ve watched enough Romcom films to know that a good makeover montage creates an obvious statement that a woman is about to claim her man. And so, you started making your wallet cry and your fingers ache by splurging on cosmetic brands and watching YouTube makeup tutorials. You’re proud of yourself when by the time Monday rolls in, you are confident you can pull off the cat wing and coral peach color scheme you learnt in exchange of sleep-deprived nights.
               You wait by your locker and glance at your watch. 7:48 A.M. Great, just in time. You look down on your outfit: a white ruffled blouse tucked in a pink and yellow plaid skirt. Spending three hours planning today’s outfit was totally worth it, you mentally pat yourself.
               Three minutes pass and then the bell chimes. You stand up straight and crane your neck to look for your target. Amy from History, Dave from Economics, Amanda from the College Secretary’s Office, Jimin from Arts and the Enchanted Carnival–There! Kim Taehyung.
               Taehyung catches your eye and waves at you. He whispers something to Jimin before he bounds toward you. “Hi, Y/N. Didn’t know you’re an early bird now. I thought your first class today is later at eleven thirty?”
               “U-um, I have so-something to pass to Ms. Terry at the Department of Arts and Communication,” you laugh awkwardly.
               “Oh is that so? Wait,” Taehyung looks at you, eyes wide. “Is it a homework I may have forgotten to do at home?”
               “N-no! There’s no homework! It’s just uh–a follow-up on a project!”
               “A project? Did Ms. Terry announce any project? I’m sorry, I’m just confused because we take her class together and–”
               “It’s a personal project!” you interject with a grin. “I…uh, I’ve been working on it since last month. I forgot to tell you about it, but it’s not much, just a collection of…news clippings.”
               “News clippings, hmm, that sounds interesting. Tell me about it at lunch, I will go ahead now to my first period,” Taehyung steps back and makes a salute, his alternative of a goodbye wave to you. “Good luck with your project!”
               “Wa-wait, Tae!”
               Taehyung halts in his steps and looks at you. “Why? Is something wrong?”
               “I–uh, did you notice anything new today?”
               “New?” Tehyung tilts his head. “Is it a new promo for the diner we frequent?”
               “Uhh, no.”
               “Umm,” Taehyung bites his lip, “is it a new movie you sent to me in our Discord?”
               “Uh, also no. And, I will gush about a movie first to you in person before I send it to our Discord.”            
               “Oh, right,” Taehyung chuckles. “Is it a new book then?”
               “No.”
               “New supplies in the bookstore you love?”
               “No.”
               “A new flavor of coffee in the vending machine?”
               “No.
               “A new–”
               “Goddamn it, Taehyung, you know what, just go to your class,” you purse your lips and Taehyung gawks at you.
               “W-why? Did I say something wrong, Y/N?”
               “No, it’s just, you’re so obliviou–UGH!”
               “‘Obliviou-ugh?’” Taehyung looks more confused than ever he’s been in his life.
               You take in deep breath and take it as a signal for you to retreat. “Don’t mind me it’s just my mood swing!” you holler as you turn your back and walk fast to the exit. Following-up with a faint “See you later!” to the bewildered boy by the time you step out the hallway.
               After what happened today, you guess Taehyung won’t easily notice your makeover with just one encounter. You decided to keep it consistent for the rest of the week, waking up earlier to curl your hair and apply makeup before going to your classes. And every day you kept trying something new – a change of shade in the lip gloss, a swipe of a bolder eye shadow, a shift from preppy to sophisticated clothing styles–Taehyung still fails to notice anything. Even when you turn up for your shift in the carnival with full-on makeup for the very first time, Taehyung just passes you by with his usual demeanor.
               “Hi, Y/N!”
               “Hi Tae!” You cringe at how chirpy you sound. “Umm, you look exceptionally good today!”
               “Yeah?” Taehyung looks at his clothes, the same Howl costume he always wears in his shift. “Well, I look like this everytime in my shift so thanks?”
               “But, have you noticed anything new today?” you bat your mascara-laden lashes for emphasis.
               “New?” Taehyung leans closer to you and this time you feel your heart pounding in suspense. Of course he’ll notice it now, you never wear this much makeup at work–
               “Oh, your ID lace!” Taehyung snaps his fingers, grinning. “Right, you changed your ID lace, how can I miss out on it? You always complain about the neon orange you used to have and now it’s black just like how you always want.”
               You balk at him. “Uhh, it’s still the ones provided by the staff. They just changed the color.”
               “Yeah, isn’t that great? You’ve always wanted a black ID lace! Remember when you used to tell me you’re gonna file a petition to change the neon orange lace to black? It’s finally black!” Taehyung claps you on the back and then makes his signature salute. “See ya later at lunch Y/N. And congrats to the ID lace!”
               You poke your cheek with your tongue in annoyance. You’ve done such a good job perfecting your makeup and all he notices is just your ID lace?! What the motherfucking–
               Okay, maybe Taehyung doesn’t get makeover montages. You cross Plan 1 out and step up to Plan 2.
Plan 2: The Assertive Approach
               If Taehyung can’t notice physical changes, maybe this time, he can notice behavioral changes.  In the films you have watched, you’ve seen countless protagonists be successful in catching the eye of their love interests by changing their flirting style. You’ve always dreamt of becoming like Julia Roberts in her hit romance films: confident, bold, and unafraid to make the first move. So this time, you get to finally be the woman of your dreams and you hope she can also entice the man inside your heart.
               You started your metamorphosis by sitting closer to Taehyung during lectures, leaning closely to him whenever he’s talking with you, closing the space between your faces with a mere inch of breath. You also let your hands do the speaking for you whenever you walk home from work, masking the frequent brushing of your fingers against his, an obvious open invitation for him to hold your hand, seemingly accidental. But whatever you do, Taehyung still can’t get any hint. He’ll just smile at you and proceed to what he’s doing without even a waver in his tone.
               Fueled with desperation, you decide to cross the boundary from subtle to blatant assertion in your lunch break with Taehyung.
               “Today’s a pretty beat day,” Taehyung remarks, taking off his sweaty cape. “Some teens decided to not go with the usual flow of the booth and visit the stops in reverse. I felt sorry for Jimin. He looked so stressed manhandling each teen out of the booth and giving them a stricter run-over of the booth’s rules.”
               “Yeah?” You slide closer next to his seat and cross your legs. “Then what about you, did the teens made fun of you? I heard from Seokjin that Lisa almost broke down when they poked around her unicorn costume.”
               “I’m glad I’m the last stop. Jimin already entered the booth when the kids made the ruckus at Lisa’s stop.” Taehyung sighs, running his hand through his damp fringes. “I couldn’t imagine myself dealing with such troublesome people. If I were in Lisa’s place, I would have already been screaming at them for being bastards at such a young age. It’s a relief, it didn’t happen. I would have lost this job.”
               “I’m glad, too, you didn’t get hurt.” You lean towards him, resting your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen in his seat and you smile. “I would have been so worried, you know. I don’t know what I will do,” you grab his hand, intertwine it with yours, and look up at him, “if I don’t see you around here anymore.”
               “Really?” Taehyung turns to you and you nod. He smiles. “Thanks, Y/N, for your concern. I would feel the same if you were to experience that. Oh, we should probably eat now, our food’s getting cold.” Taehyung immediately detaches his fingers from yours, leaving you gaping in your seat.
               Your lunch proceeds like usual and the awkward hand-holding you pulled off was never brought up again. Like Plan 1, you kept Plan 2 consistent for the week. However, Taehyung still remains painfully oblivious.
               Plan 2 is unsuccessful so you cross it out and decide it’s time to take your game to the full notch.
 Plan 3: The Vixen’s Touch
               If Taehyung can’t recognize physical and behavioral changes, he cannot miss out on a temptation handed over on a silver platter. Plan 3 is the ultimate overkill.  No one can resist the seductive vixen. You already braved through doing a Julia-Roberts-character. Going for the longest mile with Megan Fox shouldn’t be a problem. This is probably just your ego talking but you’re not gonna let the smallest bit of shame creep in to you now. Not now, when you’re putting all your cards on the table for Taehyung’s heart. This is all or nothing.
               You see, the Vixen’s Touch is the epitome of all Romcoms’ super power move. Just one scene is enough to turn the tables around and let the heroine achieve whatever outcome she desires. However, such great power comes numerous setbacks. One can only do a vixen move once and never more because if it’s overdone, it will lose it’s mystery, charm, and power–everything that makes it an effective Romcom move. So, you planned your Vixen Touch meticulously.
                You can’t do a Megan-Fox-move at school because you’ll attract too much attention, especially with Taehyung who’s already at the spotlight of social interactions. Instead, you will pull it off in the carnival, where you can have your crush all to yourself without worrying about ambitious bitches intruding your scenario. You’ll enter the Fairy Tale booth during your break time and sneak to the backstage from the “Authorized Personnel Only” door on the left of the second stop. From there, you will do Lisa’s advice to take a right turn and then a left.  It will lead to a connecting hallway that ends with the red curtains behind the Princess’ Castle. There, you’ll surprise Taehyung, who’s waiting for the princess’ cue, with a tingling touch against his spine and a sexy and breathy, “Hi, Tae.” Taehyung will be shocked and you’ll close the gap between the two of you. With the dark setting and the seemingly scandalous set-up, the thrilling mood will compel you to lean towards him and he will close his eyes and interlock his lips with  yours in a passionate kiss. If you make it fast to the connecting hallway, you will have enough alone time with Taehyung before the batch of people even reaches the third stop from the princess’ castle. You grin to yourself. Your plan has never been this perfect.
                Weekdays pass with you continuing your Assertive Approach. Taehyung’s still clueless, making the transition to Plan 3 much more thrilling. When Saturday finally rolls in, you set your game-est face on.
                It’s a week before Enchanted Carnival’s Halloween Party, which means the management is lenient on the part-timers’ work uniforms. After all, you only have one week left before you end your contracts. And so, you pull out your fanciest casual outfit–a little red dress with off-shoulder sleeves, partnered with fishnet stockings that go well with your black combat boots. You also perfected your makeup: eyebrows on-fleek, cat wings on-point, deep brown smoky eyes, and blood-red lips. To top off your look, you put on a thin, black choker. You smile at yourself. You did a good job making yourself look hot. You know it’s not just your ego talking because when you arrive at the ticket booth, Jimin compliments your look.
                “Yo, Y/N, I never knew you could look this pretty,” Jimin grins at you.
               "You also look good today,“ you return, taking note of how well his striped buttondown fits his frame. “I didn’t know today is leg day,” you add, admiring how his ripped jeans accentuate his legs you never knew were this muscular.
                Jimin smiles, “Say it for yourself, Y/N. You look a solid twelve.” He rocks on the balls of his feet back and forth. “I guess the management did a good job letting us wear our casual clothes. You don’t know how bad I wanted to take off our horrendous uniform whenever we work.”
                “That’s…highly inappropriate but I guess you do you,” you point finger guns at him. Jimin chuckles and waves goodbye to you, heading for the Fairy Tale booth. You seat yourself in your work station. Today’s a good start. You hope your luck continues until break time.
                Lunch passes by and so far everything’s a breeze. You haven’t seen Taehyung today, probably caught up with the kids who frequent his booth in large batches as Halloween approaches close. Nevertheless, it’s good news. Your surprise will totally knock him off his feet.
                The clock chimes two. Seokjin comes over and takes over the ticket booth as you take your break. It’s show time.
                Just like your plan, you head for the Fairy Tale booth in quick strides. Lisa manages the entrance to their booth today and she lets you in without any ado, already used to you and Taehyung crossing to and fro your respective booths. Greeting Val, the Elfen soldier of the first stop and Yeji, the mermaid from the second stop, you head for the “Authorized Personnel Only” door and push it open. It leads to a darkly-lit  hallway with a heavily carpeted flooring. You follow Lisa’s tips, taking a right turn and a left. True to her word, the connecting hallway ends with the thick red curtains. And there in the corner, is your dream man facing the curtains and waiting for his signal. You don’t hear any clamor of people nearing the Princess’ Castle, even the faintest of chatter inaudible. You thank the universe for this luck. You made it in time.
               The seconds seem to slow down into minutes as you stepped closer to Taehyung. Your heart pounds loud and fast against your ears. This is it. You’ll finally make Taehyung realize you have your heart laid out for him.  And if you’re lucky, he will also give his to you today.
                With a mere foot left between you two, you reach out for him.
                “Hey, Taehyung–”
                “What the fuck–”
                 Everything happens too fast.  Instead of Taehyung’s surprised face, a hard punch straight to your nose is what greets you. Intense pain spreads over your senses and you reel over, feeling your entire face on fire.
                 "Oh my fucking, God, I’m sorry!  Oh my God, Y/N, I didn’t see you–are you alright?!“ Taehyung catches your arms as you stagger backwards, pulling you to your feet to prevent you from falling.
                 You nod and waved dismiss-ally to his panicked state.
                 Just right then, you feel something wet trickle down your lips.
                 "Oh my God, Y/N, you’re bleeding!” Taehyung screams and he immediately leads you to a chair propped on the corner. He frantically pulls out tissues on the table nearby and dabs the wetness that seeps on your skin. “Shit, what are you even doing here?! I thought you were a ghost, I’m so sorry I punched you!”
                 You’re too dazed to register everything that has happened and your lack of response causes Taehyung to panic more.
                 "Fuck, Y/N, I’m so, so, sorry! Oh my God, this is all my fault. Just sit right there, I’ll call for help!“ Taehyung rushes to the end of the hallway and you hear him scream for Jimin. Pounding footsteps follow and then it’s not just Taehyung fussing over you, but also Jimin.
                 "Do you think it’s broken?” Taehyung asks Jimin, voice trembling.
                 "I don’t think so. She’s not bleeding that much. Taehyung, relax, I already called for first aid–”
                 "How can I relax when Y/N’s in pain?! Which I inflicted on her! You know what, let’s call the ambulance!–”
                 This is not what you planned for. This is not how you imagined you will spend your last shift at the carnival with Taehyung.
                 Wetness trickles down your cheeks and before Taehyung can rush over and wipe your tears away, the Carnival’s first aid team has already barged in and crowded over you.
                 You were led to the small clinic of the carnival where you were given a tissue to stick in your nose. The physician told you your nose was luckily not broken and your body has just undergone shock. Once the bleeding has stopped, you’re good to go. Seokjin also called you he already informed your boss about what happened, telling you he’ll take over your shift and you’re now free to go home. The next few minutes pass in silence and you sink further onto the foldable bed. However, the universe decides it’s not yet done fucking up your day when the door opens with a loud bang and there stands Taehyung, huffing and drenched in sweat.
                 "I’m sorry I only got here now. Boss scolded me for what I did to you,“ Taehyung sighs deeply as he sits on the chair next to you, leaning his elbows on your bed. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. All of this wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t overreact.”
                 "I-it’s okay, Tae. You didn’t know I was there.“
                 "What are you even doing at our booth? Much more creeping in the dark?”
                 You bit your lip and look away. “It’s my break, it’s just,” you sigh, “I thought of surprising you today and well, it didn’t go as well as I planned it.”
                 "Plan? For what? Is there something we’re supposed to celebrate today?“
                 You turn back to Taehyung and meet his eyes. His eyes are focused on your face, waiting for your answer.
                 Well, maybe not all Romcom cliches work just like how they appear to be in movies. Maybe not all romantic gestures need to be grand in order to convey the sincerity of one’s feelings. Maybe it could be as simple like this– two people staring at each other in a clinic, uncaring of the world happening beyond your little bubble.
                 And as you stare at Taehyung’s face and see the reflection of yourself through his eyes, confused and tired, you decide it’s time for you to finally say it. No more orchestrated pretenses. No more intricate plans.
                 "Today is our last day in our work and I wanted to surprise you by finally being true to my feelings. I no longer look at you as a friend, Taehyung. I’m in love with you.”
                 Taehyung doesn’t reply. He just stares at you. You slowly feel the air getting squeezed out of your lungs, and it’s not just because of your stuffed nostril. Another beat of silence passes and then Taehyung’s face falls as he gapes at you, confused, shocked, and for a moment you see disappointment flash across his face. “W-what? Y/N, when did you-I, I don’t know what to say, I-why now?”
                 You bite your lip, feeling the tears well in your eyes. “Why not now, Taehyung?”
                 "Because–” Taehyung sighs and he purses his lips, dragging a hand over his face. “Y/N, you’re my friend, but I–”
                 "You know what, Taehyung,  I get it,“ you turn your back on him, tasting blood on your lips from biting too hard to keep the tears at bay. You won’t cry because of him and in front of him at the same time. He doesn’t get to see you this weak. “You can leave me now.”
                 "But, Y/N, I–”
                 "Does punching me in the face not enough for you?! Just leave!“
                You hear Taehyung sigh. The mattress of the bed puffs up again as the weight leaves. A faint “I’m sorry” resounds in the stifling silence. When the door closes with a soft click, the tears finally fall.
You stifle your broken sobs on your pillow.
***
You’re back in your old cycle: Eat, sleep, study, and lie low at the background. You steered clear from Taehyung in your classes, seating far away from your usual seat. You neither stopped by his locker in the mornings, nor waited for him in front of your own locker for lunch. You even went as far as avoiding your common friends, the thought of people asking about what happened between you and Taehyung makes you reel back to the embarrassment and disappointment of that day.
As much as you wanted to hate Taehyung, you find it hard to admit that every single thing that has gone wrong points back to you. You assuming anything more than what you already have with him, you doing outrageously unnecessary things for him, you bending yourself backwards in your desperation for him – it has always been yourself.
You tried to stay as identical to the background as you can be, away from Taehyung and anything that is associated with him. Because as much as you feel like an empty vessel for every single day, you cannot find it in yourself to erase Taehyung from your mind. Even when his last words with you kept on re-opening the wounds you’ve been trying hard to stitch back together. And, you can’t have that. You can’t run back to him and let him kick you back to the curb. It’s time for you to learn your lesson.
But no matter how successful you were the past days in running from Taehyung, you know you cannot avoid him forever. Especially when Enchanted Carnival has required the part-timers to attend their annual Halloween Party tomorrow, arranged by their permanent staff. After all, it’s the day you’ll terminate your contract and receive your last salary for your job.
You have never sorely regretted your past decisions like this before. You’re love-fool state of mind back then has induced you to buy an expensive costume. A fancy dress that has a carnation pink rayon bodice and full skirt, layered with delicate purple cotton voilewhich looks like soft rose petals that perfectly cinch the waist. It has long, glittered see-through sleeves that ruffle at the end of your arm, and it is adorned with golden intricate curvilinear details that go around the bust area and matches the golden flower belt on the waist. It even came with a faux golden crown with a short pink veil attached to the back.  Yes, you fucking bought a princess bride costume just to match with Taehyung’s usual work attire because of course, Taehyung will come looking like a Disney prince. And now that everything you planned has gone downhill, the excitement is over and the only thing you feel is bitterness and a desperate wish to get things done and over with.
You reached the carnival at seven and by that time, the party is in full swing. Enchanted Carnival looks like a cirque-esque other-world. Small Jack o’ Lanterns replaced the usual light bulbs to light the carnival in an alluring tangerine glow. Signboards of “Happy Halloweens” range from small cutouts that hung from the poles, to gigantic illustrations pasted right on the walls of the some stalls. Pumpkin and ghost-shaped candies were sold at almost every corner and the people that pass by, carnival staff or not, embody the fantasy and surrealism of the carnival. You’ve seen pirates, sirens, faeries, and even witty realistic horror such as Jung Hoseok, the roller coaster attendant, wearing casual jeans and shirt with electric bills pasted on his chest and back.
“Hey, Y/N! I thought you weren’t coming.” You look to your left and see Lisa in a No Face costume. Seokjin follows close behind, dressed like Sokka from Avatar: The Last Airbender.
“Uh, yeah–I mean,” you clear your throat “how can I not come when I get to be paid at the end of the night?”
“Yeah, that’s the spirit,” Seokjin chuckles. “The salary is my only motivation when I lost a bet to Yeji and agreed to dress like…this.”
“Hey, Sokka’s not bad!” Lisa frowns. “Avatar: The Last Airbender is the best show ever and Sokka’s like a perfect ten.”
“Yeah, but it would have been better if you know,” Seokjin huffs, “I get to be Toph. So I can finally un-see Hoseok’s stupid’s antics, especially his dumb electric-bill costume tonight. It doesn’t get to be low-cost, witty, and funny all at the same time. It’s unfair.”
You laugh, feeling your jaw hurt a little from smiling so wide. It’s been a while since you smiled, with the past days spent crying and moping around in your room. You’re grateful for Lisa and Seokjin who tried to cheer you up throughout the night, distracting you from thoughts that revolve around Taehyung by pulling you into ride after ride, playing games in stall after stall, and stuffing your mouths with delicious treats.
You were having the best night of your life, until you find your group stopping in front of a booth – The 13th House.
You turn to Lisa. “Hey, you didn’t tell me a horror booth is included in our itinerary.”
“Because I don’t need to,” Lisa grins. “Horror booths are a classic! How can Halloween be Halloween without some spook?”
“Right, and relax Y/N,” Seokjin says, “It’s not like we’re gonna leave you. And trust me, it’s not that scary. I already visited this booth to prank Jungkook. Too bad I was unsuccessful that time with Jungkook already immune to jumpscares from manning the effects and all.”
Except it is scary. The 13th House is the only booth you didn’t dare to visit during your entire work period. Your remember how your legs turned to jelly the first time you saw its front: An old gothic mansion with dilapidated walls and broken windows, its wooden main door covered in bloody handprints, and its gray, dry lawn surrounded by amputated body parts. You know all of it were just manmade but it doesn’t lessen the creeps you get when every detail and props are fashioned too realistically.
Nevertheless, you went along with Lisa and Seokjin and get your ticket-bracelets scanned by the booth marshal. Even if you feel like running away the moment you hear the loud, sinister creak of the main door when you start for the first stop, you stood your ground and wear your big girl game face on. It’s your last night in the carnival, might as well do everything you were never able to do before.
The first half of your trip in the booth were somehow a smooth ride. Although you almost jumped at the scream of the bloody Victorian bride from the first stop, almost backed out on the second stop because of the swinging headless knight, and almost cried on the spot because of the wailing man with its guts ripped apart from the third stop, you’re still far from getting scared out of your wits.
That is, until you reach the middle stop.
The fourth stop required you to do an easy escape-room task with a ghost kid guiding you through a fake Ouija board session. You quickly finished the activity and the wooden walls shifted to reveal a small passageway with thick hanging cobwebs. Lisa leads the way and you find yourself gripping her hand and Seokjin’s tighter as you enter a dark hallway lit only by torches fastened to gray, blood-splattered walls.
And then, out of nowhere, foreign hands cover your eyes. You scream and thrash around but your suffering is only momentary when you find yourself back in the hallway with no looming figures behind your back. Okay, maybe it’s just part of the booth experience–Wait. Where’s Lisa and Seokjin?
“Lisa! Seokjin!” You call for your friends’s names.  They were just with you earlier. You were holding their hands for Christ’s sake! “Where are you, guys?! This is NOT funny!” You bite your lip and wring your hands in anxiety. “Guys, I swear to God, this is not fun–”
               The lights of the torches flicker. The background music starts to grow louder, and eerier as it now plays with Latin incantations. And then there’s a loud bang.
               The lights were blown out.  The blood-splattered designs on the walls turn neon. And, the rest of the hallway goes complete dark-out.
               “Holy shit!” You run, straight ahead. Heart pounding loud on your ears, you don’t think anymore and just run. Surely, there will be some end to this hallway, right?
               Except there’s none, because a forked path greets you just right when you thought the hallway is getting too long. The two paths stare at you, the neon designs on their walls starts to get disturbing with child-like drawings of disfigured people and morbid beasts.
               You slump on the ground. This is a complete nightmare. You wish you didn’t go with Lisa and Seokjin. You wish you didn’t let your loneliness get to you and spent the whole week crying about your crush who doesn’t like you. Because now you’re trapped in this hellish booth and you’re gonna die alone and pathetic. You didn’t even get to experience at least the “moving on” happy ending alternative of Romcom films. You didn’t –
               Just right then, there’s a flash of light from the end of the left path. A second later, a voice  echoes loud. You didn’t understand a word from the echo. Hell, you’re not even sure if it’s from a human. But at least it seems to have a light that is nothing part of 13th House’s props. Before thinking twice, you’re already running toward the direction of the light. You run and run and never dared to stop. The light’s getting near, you’re gonna get help soon! You won’t have to die alone because you’re gonna get out of here and–
               Light blinds you.
               "Ahh!“
               "What the fuck-! I’m sorry!”
               You feel the light on your face dim down. And the moment you bring down your raised hands, you can’t seem to speak.
               "YN?“
               Taehyung stands in front of you, flashlight in hand, and looking handsome as always. But, it’s not his presence that makes your heart still. Enchanted Carnival’s purple polo shirt, generic black slacks, and the silly headband with blue rabbit ears atop his head–Taehyung’s wearing the carnival’s ticket booth uniform.
               And Taehyung’s jaw is ajar seemingly for all the same reason. Pink princess gown and glittering princess crown–you were an open book to him now.
               "You…you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
               All of a sudden, everything that has happened in the last weeks comes back to you and you feel your eyes stinging with tears as the dam of bitterness floods your chest. “I bet you tell everyone that,” you scoff, “since you’re such a disgusting flirt.”
               Taehyung’s mouth hangs in shock, “Di-disgusting flirt? You’re the only one I told you that!”
               You stand back to your feet and meet his eyes with a steely glare. “I find it hard to believe that, Kim.  Especially your type of guys.”
               Your eyes seem to do tricks to you when you see Taehyung wince at your tone, but that wasn’t for long because Taehyung now sounds defensive.  "What are my type of guys?“
               You scowled. "The type who leads on girls and cruelly rejects them after they’re done playing with them.”
               "What rejection are you talking about? I did not reject you! How could you-“
               "What else could your reaction mean when I told you I love you?!”
               "I was trying to move on from you, okay!“ Taehyung screams. "And that day, you just–dropped the bomb like that. How do you expect me to react huh? Especially, when I fucking spent one year trying to make you realize I see you more than as a friend and you just ignore me as if my feelings don’t matter to you.  And then, when I finally decide to move on from you, you act weird for a couple of weeks. And out of nowhere you’re telling me you love me. How can I even react properly? You didn’t even wait for me to process things,” Taehyung’s voice breaks, “You just up and go and shut me out!”
               "W-what?“
               "I liked you, Y/N. For so long. And you never turned my way–you wave off my advances as if they mean nothing to you, you keep on setting me up with other girls, and you run away from me whenever I so much glance at you. You don’t even let me see you properly when we’re at school. You hide from me and run away as if you’re gonna die just by being with me. And last week, you’re suddenly telling me you love me? So, how can I be a disgusting flirt when you’re the one who’s sending me mixed signals?!”
               "Mixed signals?“ you frown. "For the past year I’ve been your friend Tae, I tried to love you in my own way. I stayed up late with you as you told me all your problems. I’ve been there with you in whatever shenanigans you thought of. I spent almost every break I fucking have with you talking about whatever we want. They are blatant signals, Taehyung! So I’m sorry if I have to hide or run away sometimes, because if you didn’t fucking know, we don’t belong in the same world.”
               “What do you mean we don’t belong in the same world? Fucking hell, Y/N, you’re not an alien–”
               “In your world, I am! In your world, you are the star, the life of the party. People who belong in your world live their fucking fantastic lives as the star of their own stories. They achieve their dreams, they get whatever they want, people look up at them for being so great. But, people like me? We spend our fucking lives looking into your world from the outside. Pathetic side characters of their own pathetic lives. People just pass us by, some even run over us. No one even remembers our fucking name. So, even if these don’t matter when I look at you, I can only love you from afar because people will look at us and all these shits will come back for me.”
               “Jesus Christ,” Taehyung huffs, carding a hand through his hair in frustration. “There are no worlds separating you from me because people are just different!  And these differences cannot dictate who should belong with who because guess what? We’re the only ones who can let other people in or out of their lives.  So can you just stop for a second and see that there’s nothing that actually separates you from me? I thought you would already know this by now since we’ve been friends for so long.”
               You feel tears blurring your eyes and you look away from him. “But still, that’s not enough to explain all the shits that’s happened this past week. Okay, we may be different and I tried to express my feelings in my own way. But I tried to change it up, Tae. I worked so hard to pattern my advances to every Romcom clichés and of course they all went wrong when it came to you.”
               “W-wrong? Y/N, what Romcom cliches–”
               “The cheesiest Romcom clichés!”  You snap. “You know, the makeover montage, the Julia Roberts’ Assertive Approach, the Megan Fox Vixen Touch. You were telling me how oblivious I were to your advances but you never fucking noticed how  I changed up my advances just for you. You ignored how I dressed up pretty-to-the-tip for you. Even after I came to you and blatantly asked you if you noticed something new. You don’t take the cue when I freaking hand over my feelings for you in a silver platter. Hell, you even punched me in the face when I tried to be sexy!”
               “God, can you let it go? I already said I’m sorry!” Taehyung huffs and you look down on your feet. Taehyung sighs, “I was trying to move on from you during those weeks you’ve acted really, really weird. So obviously, I will be very confused. Secondly, Y/N,” Taehyung sighs, “Romcom clichés are called like that because they only happen and work the way they are portrayed to work, in Romcoms. Romcom is a film genre. Sure, they may reflect some aspects of reality, but Y/N, they are planned out, manipulated in a controlled environment. They’re not your life. Life doesn’t work that way.”
               “I’m sorry, I just–” you bite your lip but it’s not enough to prevent a tear slip from your eyes. “This is my first time feeling like this and I don’t know what to do. I absolutely have no fucking idea what I should do next and I–I’m just so sorry for dragging these shits up and made our lives messier than it should be. I’m sorry for probably making you feel guilty about yourself for this past week I ignored you like the plague. I’m sorry for being so stupid, I just–I’m so sorry, Tae!” your voice breaks at the end and before you know it, your tears have already consumed you to the ground.
               "Oh shit Y/N, don’t cry.” Taehyung panics as he kneels next to you. You shield your face from him with your hands, but Taehyung pries them away and cups your face in his large, warm hands. You feel the pads of his fingers wipe away your tears and when you look up at him, Taehyung’s face is too close to yours. Too close that you can practically see the deep, dark circles under his eyes despite the darkness. The thought that you caused him this made you tear up more.
               Taehyung goes frantic. “Y/N, do-don’t cry. Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry–”
                 “C-can you just h-hug me?”
               “O-okay,” Taehyung hesitantly loops his arms around your shaking frame. “Thi-this is fine with me.”
               You close your eyes and lean on your friend’s chest. You don’t care if Taehyung’s shirt get wet with your tears. He’s partly at fault for making you cry. But still, you squeak out a muffled.  “Thank you, Tae.”
               Taehyung hums. “It’s okay.”
               Amid this night’s horror and breakdown, silence, for the first time in a while, envelops you in comfort. Even with no words, Taehyung easily dries away the tears. He just pats your back and rubs soothing circles on your tensed muscles, leaning closer to you when you hug him tighter.
               “I hate fighting with you, Tae.”
               Taehyung turns his head closer to yours. “Are we already fighting?”
               “W-well yeah,” you hiccup. “Somehow.”
               “Okay…Next time we’ll understand each other better so we don’t need to have unnecessary fights like this, okay?”
               “Okay,” you mutter. You sink deeper into Taehyung’s arms and he holds you tighter in his embrace.
               Even if you can’t see his face, you know Taehyung’s smiling.
               It doesn’t take long for your sobs to die down that you’re now slowly disentangling yourself from him.
               “Are you okay now?”
               “Y-yeah. Thank you.” You lean your back against the wall and Taehyung sits next to you. You look at him and he smiles at you. For a moment you stay like that, staring into his eyes, falling deep in the little world you’re sharing with him. And then, it hits you. Taehyung’s still here. Even after you blurt out every insecurity and self-doubt you have that others may find petty and invaluable, Taehyung’s still here. Even after he voiced out his disappointment of you and things you’ve done him wrong, Taehyung hasn’t walked out. He didn’t run away, he didn’t leave you. Taehyung stayed.
               And so, you take the cue the universe is giving you and put all your cards on the table again. You cross your fingers as you ask the question that has plagued your mind ever since Taehyung confessed he has long liked you. "Tae, Ha-have you already moved on from me?”
               Taehyung sighs and for a second, you don’t breathe. But, you don’t have to hold it for long because when Taehyung looks at you again, a soft smile is on his face. “Unfortunately, no. Because even after all the shits you put me through, you still occupy my heart–and mind.”
               “S-so, can I kiss you?”
               “I’m the one who’s supposed to say that, but, ye-yeah you can kiss me. Anything for you, Y/N.”
               You close your eyes and lean forward. Your lips meet his in a soft peck and everything suddenly stops. You don’t feel the perspiration on your back from all the running in the booth. You don’t think about the dust and dirt soiling your dress. All you could feel was Taehyung’s soft lips. All you could taste is the sweetness from the crumbs of cherry tart left on his lips. All that fills you nose is Taehyung’s smell that’s so naturally his and his ocean mist spray you gifted him on his birthday. All you could hear is the loud pounding of your heart, and even with your eyes closed, Taehyung’s face is all you could see.  And, you can’t think of anything but Taehyung–him and him alone.
               The world suddenly moves again when Taehyung leans deeper and interlocks his lips with yours. You immediately let your heart take over. You mold yourself closer to him, kissing him with every ardor you’ve kept locked in yourself for so long. You fist his shirt and Taehyung caresses your cheeks and puts his hand on the back of your neck as he kisses you deeper. You loop your arms around his neck and return the vigor of his kiss. Teeth bumping, fingers reaching and clutching onto anything, sloppy interlocking of lips–you don’t care. Even if you have your first kiss in a gloomy, creepy horror booth, nothing else mattered but the boy in front of you. Taehyung’s here and he’s finally in your arms. You don’t have to long for him from afar anymore because now he’s here with you and he’s not leaving you. He’s finally yours.
               The same thought probably runs into Taehyung as you feel him grin into your lips before kissing you again. And even when the creepy background music of the booth starts again, you can only focus on the gentle way Taehyung’s thumbs coursed over your cheeks while tenderly pecks your lips as your kiss comes into a close.
                As you draw back a little to look at your friend, your crush, and now your lover, Kim Taehyung, in the hideous purple uniform you used to wear in the ticket booth with silly rabbit ears perched atop his hazel locks, you can’t help but smile. Taehyung may be the center of the world while you watch him from the side, but at the end of the day, he’s right. You’re just two people who are happy being with each other. There’s no boundaries, no walls separating him from you and you from him. You just have to see him for what he is and take the leap. You don’t need to re-enact Romcom clichés just to bring him towards you because he’s never been away from you from the start.
               Taehyung leans his forehead on yours and smiles. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve waited for so long for this.”
               “Me too,” you grin, “And, I love you too, Tae.”
               Taehyung chuckles and presses another peck on your lips.
               Just right then, you can feel a vibrant white light on your face.
               “Yo, lovebirds, are you finally together?”
               You turn to the direction of the voice and it’s Jimin. Behind him are Lisa and Seokjin, walking from the right pathway while making kissy faces at you.
               It all clicks in: Lisa and Seokjin hanging out with you, leading you to the 13th House, and disappearing like smoke the moment you reached the longest hallway of the booth. It’s to get you alone with Taehyung and finally talk everything out before you leave your part-time jobs.
               You frown at your friends. But, before you can voice out how can they just up and leave you like that, Taehyung beats you to it.
               “Jimin, you bastard! You pushed me towards the backstage passageway, shoved a flashlight into my hand, and just left me in the middle of this fucking scary booth. Is this how you treat your best bud?!”
               Jimin laughs. “But at least you got the girl!”
               “Yeah,” Lisa says. “Watching you two stupidly tiptoe around each other for so long started to make me sick.”
               “And we know you two can’t sort out your stupidity alone, so we decided to give you a little push.” Seokjin looks at Taehyung. “Quite literally in your case.”
               Taehyung scowls and opens his mouth but Jimin cuts him to it.
               “Thank me later, lover boy. It’s time we get out of this booth. Jungkook’s gonna piss me out for practically renting the 4th stop without paying.” Jimin heads to the right path where he came from. “So let’s take our exit now so you two can finally ride together into the sunset.” He turns to you and Taehyung and smirks, “Well, literally and figuratively.”
               Taehung attempts to hit him but Jimin scampers away and hollers, “You’re welcome, bro. And you too, Y/N!” Lisa and Seokjin laugh as they follow Jimin, leaving you and Taehyung walking at the back.
               Taehyung turns to you. “So…are you free tomorrow? I realized I haven’t taken you to a date yet. Like, a date date”
               “Yeah, I’m free. But, where will we go?”
               Taehyung rubs his nape. “Well, I don’t know yet…I’m sorry I asked you when I don’t have any plans yet, I just want to be with you tomorrow–”
               “It’s okay,” you smile. “We can meet at the carnival, then.”
               “The carnival?”
               “Yeah. Not as the prince and the ticketbooth attendant or vice versa. Just Taehyung and Y/N.”
               Taehyung smiles. “I would like that. Pick you up at your house on five?”
               “That’s alright with me,” you lean into his arm and look up at him, “boyfriend.”
               Taehyung blushes and you giggle. You let him hold your hand as you make your way out of the horror booth to spend the rest of Enchanted Carnival’s Halloween Party with a salary waiting for you, happy and giddy, and most importantly, in love.
               In every success story, there is a ninety percent probability you will hear “Fake it ‘til you make it.” Sometimes, it worked out for you, but most of the time, it didn’t.  Like how you tried to use this tactic to get your crush to like you, your plans don’t usually go the way you expect them. But it’s okay, because life doesn’t work that way. It took you stressful planning days, frustrating reactions, and tearful nights for you to realize that life is not always a stage where people can just “fake” everything ‘til the script is fulfilled. Roles can be changed and mistakes can happen. What’s important is: You may have not “fake it ‘til you make it,” but at least you worked for it ‘til you made it.
A/N pt. 2 | I wrote this fic after having a massive eureka moment and I haven’t edited this out yet because it’s 2 A.M. and we die like brave men here. Anyway, planning this story was really a challenge! This is the first time I tried this AU so I researched stuff and had to like, fix and re-fix some of my plot points as I write through. Second, I wanted to incorporate the adorable prompt in a completely unexpected way so I hope it did what I intended for it to do. Also, I enjoyed making up the names of the Romcom clichés OC used. They are literal Romcom clichés but I can’t find what they’re officially called (aside from Makeover Montage) so I just made the rest up AHHAHAH. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!
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bigskydreaming · 3 years
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You said the other day that you don't really like Talon stories. Do you mind saying why?
LOL they’re just not really what I’m here for? Idk, I think people tend to make a bigger deal out of this than it actually is even in my head, maybe because Talon stories have so quickly become such a staple of fics that it just seems weird not to like them? And its not like I’ve never liked one or been intrigued by a premise, I have, though specific recs elude me at the moment, there’s one I was reading on ff.net I really enjoyed, it was YJ verse.....
But honestly its really just that a recurring theme of Dick’s stories in canon - and one of the things I turn to fanfic for in the first place, to get away from, to read something ELSE about him - is dehumanization. Reducing his sense of self, brainwashing or controlling him, making him other than he usually is, even just in temporary ways....it gets old. I come to fanfic hoping to read and write stuff beyond that, and Talon fics are so often even heavier on the dehumanizing him aspect of things, like making him even more mindless than most Talons in canon are ever portrayed, and don’t get me started on how often they just flat out refer to Talon Dick as ‘it’.....its just a no thanks from me. Just not what I’m looking for.
Add to that other incidentals, like, its completely understandable in context of these narratives that the Batfam feel they have to restrain Dick while he’s a Talon and in the Batcave, but again, its just not something I’m looking to read? Because for example, another big theme of mine is how uncomfortable and unwelcome I think Dick’s come to feel in Wayne Manor over the years, given the many times Bruce has essentially kicked him out and how little effort he’s made to make it into a home for him again (like I think there are more reasons than just grief that Dick lived in the penthouse rather than the Manor when Bruce was believed dead and Dick was in charge of his estate)....so when you look at things from that angle, which I’m just kinda predisposed towards doing, the imprisonment angle of Talon fics (and the attitudes of a lot of the Batcharacters as they go about it, like they’re just being pragmatic, Dick will understand - yeah he might understand but that doesn’t mean there won’t be mental and emotional undercurrents of resentment and hurt to that understanding)....like, its just one more way/reason for Dick’s childhood home to be turned against him and made a place where he feels or will remember feeling explicitly unwelcome. I’m not saying its WRONG to take that angle in fics, lol, I’m just saying....its not for me. Its just not what I’m looking for.
Also its a bit of a pet peeve to see Talon abilities viewed as an upgrade rather than something inflicted on him by his tormentors and at BEST somethting Dick would have very conflicting views on - and tbh this isn’t limited to just him, I have similar thoughts about how Cass might feel about her own abilities and how even now that she can communicate well with others, she still feels somewhat different or removed from most people because of this ‘superpower’ that had to be ABUSED into her and that she would have traded for her father’s actual love any day - but I mean, there’s a thing in a lot of Talon fics where alongside the dehumanization angle, which Dick isn’t even just expected to just ‘get over’ once he’s back to his regular mental awareness, because its usually never even delved into, how he feels about the fact that for awhile there, he was nothing more than an ‘it’ even in his family’s eyes, and IMO he’s like, funny, I’m pretty sure I’m still the only person in this body all along, so if it was just an it to you, where exactly did you think I was? But aside from the angst I feel he SHOULD have from thinking about how easily he was viewed as just a mindless tool and pawn and thing by people, there’s a tendency to hop, skip and jump to him being okay with his Talon ‘upgrades’ because they make him so much more effective....and there’s just a WAY this is usually gone about that like, for me, glosses over how effective he was without them, and the fact that none of his family members seem to need or think they need them themselves to be effective....and somewhere in all that, it seems to get lost that the whole reason the Court even WANTS Dick so badly is because of how effective he is even already.
Plus - there’s my personal annoyance with how characters with super-fast healing are treated in narratives across the board. In comics, books, movies, shows, fics, everywhere - I ranted about this a TON in Teen Wolf fandom, its a complaint I have with Wolverine and his family in Marvel comics, etc....I vastly dislike how often its just treated as assumed that just because a character heals rapidly, like....the actual trauma and pain of injuries inflicted might as well not even matter. Like, that’s not how it works IMO? When I think about a time I broke an arm, I’m not thinking about ‘oh it barely matters because it only took a couple months to heal and when I view that in the context of my whole lifespan that’s barely anything, it was so fast’....like no, I’m thinking about what it felt like when I actually BROKE it. There’s a tendency, I feel, when characters get an ability to make an injury disappear out of sight out of mind rapidly, to just view the emotional and mental consequences of injury being inflicted as negligible, and not really mattering anymore, and I heavily disagree with that logic. IMO, these characters throwing themselves headfirst in front of everyone else as a human shield, while practical in one sense of the word, is also like, begging to be examined as oh I see, so basically you’re saying that now that you no longer need to be treated with care because you’re invulnerable, you’re worthless and the pain that goes along with all those injuries you get 100x more of now, that’s like...meaningless and fake news.
I mean, even if you make an argument for Dick no longer having pain receptors (which I’d also be heavily against because uh, if you go that route you’re also inadvertently suggesting things about his sensory input and ability to feel varying degrees of touch across the board and again its more the lack of examination of that as much as anything else that’s things that make me go mmmm no thanks)....the injuries are still being inflicted and there’s still gonna be psychological damage inflicted from processing that no one seems significantly bothered by him being ‘family niche - human pincushion for the prevention of others saying oww’ without so much as commentary.
And lastly, did I mention, I just really really reeeeeeally dislike the dehumanization angle that tends to go hand in hand with these fics.
But for the record, like, I honestly do like the Court of Owls and what they bring to Dick’s stories because all of this, ironically is precisely why they DO play so well into his core themes of autonomy and independence and self-determinism. Its just, I’m here for fics where Dick triumphs over them and their attempts to hijack him and his life for their own agendas, and I feel like a lot of the time we see a Pyrrhic victory at best, when going the Talon route, and a lot of THAT time its not even regarded or treated as such, but rather a full victory with no real examination of how Dick’s life is different now, how he’s changed not just by what was done to him but by how he was treated by BOTH sides WHILE it was done to him? 
And the other element here is like....the Court and their presence in his fics doesn’t HAVE to equal making him a full on Talon along the way, just like it never has in canon. I don’t view the fulfillment of what’s inherently a THREAT to his character as an improvement UPON his character. *shrugs* But also there’s just so many avenues for angst or emotional tangles when it comes to the Court even without making Dick a Talon himself.....just have him picturing or having nightmares of imagining his parents turned into Talons and how horrifying he’d find that, or worry in the wake of revelations about the Court that his family is now looking at him differently, imagining the threat HE could be when he hasn’t even done anything. Or there’s the angle of Bruce knowing but not telling him to try and protect him but that causing conflict OR you could go a route I’ve never seen done before, and like, have Dick and Bruce come into conflict with the Court before any of the others come along and like, save Dick from ever being made a full Talon but the point is years later the Court resurfaces and they and their plans for Dick are a complete revelation to his siblings and there’s perfectly understandable conflict because of that even if the reason is as simple and equally as understandable as Bruce didn’t feel it was his to share if Dick didn’t want to, as long as they honestly thought the Court had been neutralized, and he respected that its a painful topic to Dick that he wasn’t trying to hide, he just flat out didn’t want to talk about so it never came up.
There’s a lot that can be done with the Court, but usually they’re just utilized as a prelude to Talon Dick Grayson and bottom line is that’s just not somewhere I’m usually looking to go, personally.
BUT in the spirit of me being completely contradictory as always, again its like I said, there are some here and there that I really get into, there’s a YJ one that really delves deep into Dick’s emotions on all of this and has a prequel set during Jason’s Robin days, when they first encounter the Court, I forget the title but someone feel free to drop it in the notes if you know what I’m talking about, and @dustorange always does interesting things with the Court and Talons that’s different each time and I’m sure I’m forgetting more, so its not like.....a blanket across the board nope thing. Its just I have particular reservations about HOW a lot of Talon and Court fics play out that I’m just....not the right audience for simply because its not what I’m looking for in fics, personally.
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brattyhyuck · 4 years
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part one.
[ 7:29 AM ] From the moment you woke up this morning, you were already dreading going to class. Scratch that-- in actuality, you had been worrying about it since your encounter with Hendery last week.
The idea of skipping class sounded unbelievably tempting. However, you were still in possession of his notebook and you figured Hendery wouldn’t appreciate it too much being left in class without it.
And so, you had awoken early today, earlier than usual. Facing the boy you were head-over-heels for was something you weren’t ready for just yet, the embarrassing images from your last meeting still replaying in your head. So, the plan was to place his journal at his usual seat and hide in the back as you were so very much accustomed to.
And it worked. At first anyway.
You had been the first one to get to class, being nearly half an hour early, and watching the other students file in and take their seats, pulling out their supplies.
Peeking every now and then from the corner of your eye to glance at Hendery’s journal that laid on the surface on his desk with your own in front of you as if to get a recap on the previous week’s lesson. Though it might as well be written in a foreign language with how little of it you were actually reading.
It was about five minutes before class was to start, did he finally entered. It was obvious he had been in a rush to make it time by his hair that was quite disheveled and how his chest was heaving just a bit. Subconsciously, a smile spread onto your face at how awfully cute he was in that state.
It wasn’t until he got to his desk, eyeing the notebook that still sat there, did your heart jump in your chest. You looked away just in time, catching a last minute glimpse of Hendery’s eyes darting around the room, most likely in search of you. Not wanting to be seen, your back hunched over just enough in hopes of being hidden behind all the people sat in front of you.
Maybe you should’ve given it to him in person. It could have possibly given you a chance to try again and maybe--- no. That wouldn’t have turned out well, just like last time. With your luck, he probably didn’t even remember your name---
“Hey, Y/N.” you jumped in surprise as a deep though friendly voice sounded from beside you, interrupting your self loathing monologue inside your head.
You straightened up in your seat immediately and locked your gaze on the form now taking a place in the seat next to you. Shockingly, it was Hendery. While in the midst of trying to lay low, you supposed you had missed seeing him make his way towards you.
“Hendery?” you inquired, not doing very well in concealing your confusion.
He gave you a nod in confirmation and a bright toothy grin that set free a hundred or so butterflies within the confines of your stomach.
“Why are you...” you trailed off just long enough to glance back at the empty chair in front of the class. “sitting back here?”
“You said you kept falling asleep last time, right?”
Heat rushed to your cheeks at the reminder at the last minute excuse you had come up with before. “Yeah, I did.”
“Well, I’m here to keep you awake.” he declared, a smile that screamed determination present on his face.
A nervous laugh slipped past your lips, “Oh, you don’t have to--”
“Alright, class! Let’s jump right in to our lesson for this week.” and again, you were interrupted. Only this time it was your professor, who was already pulling up the many power points he prepared.
Throughout your time in class, Hendery had kept his word in keeping you awake. Although it was very much impossible for you to relax enough around him to feel any kind of drowsiness, you very much appreciated it.
Multiple times did he lean over, whispering his silly inputs on the subject on the board to you, earning quiet giggles from you. And soon enough, you even gained enough courage to begin shooting back jokes of your own. And when he reacted to them, mercy laughing at them or not, it caused inflammation within your cheeks.
At one point, he had even took his backpack into his arms, pulling out numerous pieces of candy to share with you. And though the expiration on them seemed rather questionable, you ate them anyway.
“Oh, he moved on from that last slide too fast, did you get it?” you whispered over to the boy, looking over at his notebook only to see he barely gotten anything written down. And when you moved your gaze to his face, he was already looking at you.
“Oh, uh, no. I didn’t.” he chuckled almost sheepishly, pausing to reach up and rub the back of his neck. “Been a bit distracted, I guess.”
“We’ll go ahead and end it here, guys.” you heard your professor speak up again, turning your head towards the front to give ear to him. “As usual, if you have any questions or concerns, my office hours--”
And just like that, his voice was already drowned out by the sound of books and pens being put away, bags being zipped up and thrown onto backs. You and Hendery being included in this noise.
“Hey, so I was wondering,” Hendery caught your attention before you had the chance to get too far. “Are you free this weekend? Saturday, specifically?”
“Uh, yeah, I am.” you replied, eyebrows raising as you looked up at him.
Is he about to ask what you think he is? No, of course not. He couldn’t be. Quit being so naive.
“Great! Well, if you’re not seeing anyone or anything...” Oh, my god. He was. “Would you like to---”
“Yes!”
“Oh, god. I should have known you’re already taken. I mean, how could you not be? You’re very pretty.” he stopped his quick rambling with a nervous laugh. “I’m so sorry.”
Before he had the chance to turn and leave, you stopped him by softly grasping onto the sleeve of his shirt.
“No, no!” you exclaimed, almost too loudly, but you could see it didn’t really matter to him as he looked at you with just a slither of hope in his big brown eyes. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
“You’re not?” he sighed out in relief.
“I’m not-- I meant that yes for, uh...” you paused, your hands moving in small vague gestures that he smiled adoringly at. “whatever you had planned for Saturday.”
“Great!” his body did a little bounce of excitement as he spoke before he quickly took out his phone and shoved it in your direction. 
The action reminded you very much of when you two were in the cafe just days ago, except it wasn’t his notebook this time. And you weren’t filled with the same shame and hurt from that day, but joy this time.
“Here,” he said as you took the device into your hand. “You can put your number in so we can talk more later.”
After putting in your contact information and handed the phone back to Hendery, the speed at which he shoved it back into pocket and ran through the desks had you baffled. Though what surprised you even more was that he halted midway, almost comically, turning on his heels to sprint back to you.
“Sorry, I have another class I have to get to soon,” he explained hurriedly as he dug into a pocket in his backpack, pulling out one last piece of candy and placing it into your palm. “I’ll text you.”
And with that, he was gone.
A laugh fell from your mouth as you looked around the now empty classroom and then into your hand that held the candy. He was so weird, but he was so your type. Oh, just wait until your friends hear about this.
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sleevesareforlosers · 4 years
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i read your pony/cola little fic and the vibes are astronomical, so i, humble goblin, have come to you, to request a little more of that wonder (pls I'm gay and starving)
SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I was,,, burnt out on dying is easy tbh
On Ao3!
Cherri Cola finished reading and leaned back in his chair with a quiet sigh. He let the moment hang in the air a second longer before clearing his throat and starting to talk again.
“That one went out to our zones’ very own Ultra Violet and her family. For those who have yet to hear, the convoy welcomed a new motorbaby to their ranks the sunset before last. May the Witch watch over them as they grow and find themselves and others.” Birth announcements were rare, but Cherri’s favourite part of his nightly broadcast. His words carried a smile through the static as he continued. “All parents are resting with their new sandpup and-”
The door to the broadcast room cracked open. Cherri’s heart jumped as he spun around in his chair, whatever words he had been about to say forgotten. But it was just Show Pony. Ae did aer best impression of tiptoeing on aer rollerskates and pressed one finger to aer lips. It took Cherri a moment to get his heart rate under control, never the biggest fan of being snuck up on. As Pony closed the door behind aerself, Cherri turned back to the mixing board and cleared his throat again.
“Apologies. Our resident zonerunner still hasn’t mastered the art of knocking before entering a room-”
From behind him, Pony snorted quietly but, for once, didn’t argue. Instead, ae skated towards him, dropping onto Cherri’s lap and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Ae reached forward to fiddle with some of the knobs on the board and Cherri smacked aer hand away gently.
“As the sun and moon move on in their endless dance, so too do we move through our broadcast-”
“Oh, read this one next!” Interrupted Pony, pointing at the open page of Cherri’s notebook.
Resigned to the fact that his listeners heard Pony’s voice on Cherri’s show about as often as they heard his own, Cherri assured aer that he was planning on it, pressing a kiss to aer cheek as he did so.
“Give me a hand?” Cherri asked.
Pony leaned over and grabbed Cherri’s prosthetic from where he had set it on the table. Ae began to fasten it to Cherri’s arm while he murmured into the microphone.
“As my own personal pony express has so eagerly requested, this next poem is another original.” Pony finished attaching Cherri’s prosthetic and settled back onto his lap. Cherri slowly dragged his hand up and down Pony’s back while he introduced his poem, “Hold the ones close to you a little tighter and take a moment to close your eyes and breathe while you listen. Whatever you believe in will surely grant you a few minutes of calm and if they don’t, everyone that doesn’t tune in to me can pick up the slack.”
The poem was short, a piece about warmth and belonging that Cherri had written just after he and Pony had gotten together. Cherri half wondered if Pony had actually read it before ae pointed it out. Whether or not ae had, ae melted into Cherri’s lap while he read and was practically boneless by the time he finished.
“Now even I can get tired of my own voice sometimes, and I’m sure you can too.” Pony perked up slightly and picked up the album that Cherri pointed out on the edge of the table. “So we’re going to take a break and relax in the Kiln House. I’ll be with you again soon.” Cherri switched the input over to the turntable and started it up, turning the volume in the broadcast room down until the opening song was just a murmur.
“Was that one about me?” Joked Pony lightly.
“I think all art is open to interpretation,” Cherri replied in a mock lofty tone.
Pony laughed, burying aer forehead in Cherri’s shoulder. “I’m takin’ that as a yes, darlin’.”
“That’s your interp-” Cherri cut off as Pony pressed a kiss to his lips.
When ae pulled back, Cherri sighed and chased the kiss as far as he could with Pony’s solid weight holding him down in the chair. Ae leaned forward again, stopping a breath short of actually kissing Cherri and ae smiled.
“It was sweet, thank you.”
Cherri leaned up the last few millimetres and connected their lips again. Not that the poet didn’t like using his words to show how he felt, but sometimes there were better alternatives.
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mundanewayv · 4 years
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rule of five. / hendery.w
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enemies to lovers! hendery, 3.1k. got a little too excited with this one
The magic five. 5 days for mutual friends to set out to put two enemies together for 5 days, 5 rules.
The office was a pleasant place to be in; you had your colleagues, all boys from the same neighbourhood and middle school, so you didn’t feel lonely though all of you were scattered across different departments, stocked pantry and fully-equipped employee resting area, a boss who spent more time looking at the vanity mirror than the files on her table that she needed to sign and of course, doing what you love, fixing technological problem in the office. Perhaps, there was one flaw, a big one in your opinion, since he appears in all the things you found pleasant about your office. Hendery Wong.
Obnoxious, snobby, critical and a powerful ass-kisser. He is Ten’s mutual friend that he met at an all-boys boarding school when Ten relocated back to Thailand temporarily. Funny how Ten brought him back to the little neighbourhood of yours. Hendery is in the sales and projects department with Ten, Yangyang and Lucas. Xiaojun and Sicheng in the accounting and auditing department and you and Kun in the IT department. Like every salesman, he is snobby and knows how to wrap your boss around his finger. 
He complains about you being the only girl in the group and how the boys were always focusing on you when all of you were together and one thing you hate across all men, leading female colleagues on. Hendery uses his good looks to throw his tasks to one of those girls in sales so he can focus on the bigger projects and ultimately get acknowledgement for it. He takes them out to dinner and dumps them right after. Hate was an understatement; you detested his guts.
Like any other day, the eight of you would gather at the rest area for lunch and the daily office gossip.
“How’s Michelle, Hendery? Saw her eyes puffed up like that croissant you’re eating.” Ten asked in between crunches as he chews on his carrot.
“Well, I told her I was sorry if she got the wrong idea.” your arch enemy shrugged his shoulders, nonchalant as he spread cream cheese onto his croissant.
“You’re a jerk, Hendery. Michelle was so happy when she told me how you were taking her out to dinner. Try being led on and maybe you’d know how it feels.” you snorted, fully aware that your eyes were about to roll to the back of your head because you were that mad.
“Oh love, it wasn’t my fault she got the wrong signals. But wait, what do you know? You don’t date and you hang out with Kun and computers all day. No offence, Kun.” Hendery shoots back, swirling his butter knife and putting it down so he could take a bite of his lunch.
“I swear to God, I’m going to tear your-” Hendery successfully riled you up because you were about to jump at him and he was lucky Kun and Xiaojun were nearby to restrain you because in case he didn’t know, you were stronger than you look, your Judo master father didn’t raise you to back down when it came to throwing someone over your shoulders.
“The both of you are always fighting. Are both of you that desperate for my attention?” Ten pouts, using his fork to push the broccoli aside his lunch box.
“He started it, since he didn’t know how to keep his big mouth shut.” you hissed under your breath.
Hendery took every offence of that snide remark, “Maybe if you quit trying to start something out of nothing, we might actually be friends.”
“How about this,” Yangyang puts down the bottle of soda he was drinking.
“Since both of you fight so much, and it kind of ruins the dynamics around here, we’re going to force the both of you to be friends then. The loser who backs out fulfils the wish of the other.” he suggested,
“Ooh, does this mean I can actually kick him out of our team if I want to?” you eyed Hendery, an evil smirk forming across your face.
“Yup! Wait, what? We’ll have to see about that one.” you could hear Yangyang choking on soda when you mentioned that.
“Let’s draw up the rules then!” Lucas stands up from his seat, running to get a napkin and pen and setting it down on the table between the rest except you and Hendery. The both of you waited at the side, refusing to make a single eye contact and minding each of your own businesses. In the span of 5 minutes, Hendery was already sweet-talking his third sales client, in which you know he could easily clinch a deal with.
“Okay, we’re done!” Yangyang yells out to the both of you as he waved the napkin in the air excitedly.
You read the rules before Hendery came to grab the napkin from your hands.
Address each other with pet names
Morning and night texts.
Surprise each other
Walk home together
5 words you’d like to tell each other
“Hm, seems simple. Or maybe I’m just more used to stuff like this than someone here~” Hendery hums, taking a jab at you sarcastically.
“Great! We start today! Follow the sequence!” all of you dispersed back to work as lunch draws to an end.
You were working on a couple of input errors that the sales team made so they could be sent out for orders afterwards when both Kun and your phone buzzed.
hendery: hey baby :)
He was already starting on the first rule. You felt a rush of heat in your cheeks, shocked and slightly flustered, thinking of a pet name that wasn’t as cheesy as his. The names you always called him weren’t always nice and you’re pretty sure “ass-kisser” isn’t a pet name.
you: what’s up, dear? <3
You typed anxiously, flunging your phone away from you once you were done.
“This is getting cheesier than we thought.” Kun whispered.
yangyang: ya’ll can’t change that once you start >:)
hendery: baby fits her well.
Your lunch churned in your stomach, feeling grossed out by how Hendery was probably typing these out with that smug smile of his, plotting to just play you out just like those other girls. You avoided messaging into the chat room so you didn’t have to call or see him call you cheesy pet names.
The second morning came and you were on to the next rule: Morning and night texts. You thought that maybe you should take the effort since Hendery was the one who got the ball rolling yesterday.
you: good morning, dear <3
You still weren’t used to calling your arch enemy ‘dear’ and adding heart emojis at the end of every message.
hendery: not very good since you’re ruining my sleep :)
hendery: im kidding, good morning
hendery: baby lol
Your phone was once again sent flying towards the bed before bouncing onto the floor. You couldn’t wait for the next three days to pass by quickly because you knew you were going to win and kick Hendery out of the team anyway. You took deep breaths, soothing the blood boil when you read Hendery’s reply.
Back at the office, nothing much changed, the both of you were still at each other’s throats with you daily banter of him not holding the lift for you earlier in the morning, clearly knowing you were going to be late if you waited for the next one, causing you to take a ‘morning run’ up the stairs to the ninth floor where your office was on. You would usually be so tempted to just stop him from getting you mad but today, it took him an “I’m sorry babe” to suddenly pull you back, it was probably your nerves acting up or maybe you were actually starting to like that pet name.
All of you went home together since all of you lived in the same neighbourhood but few streets apart. Ten, Hendery and you lived the closest to each other and on a daily basis, you would make it a point to only say bye to Ten since you were that petty and insistent on putting Hendery’s ego back in line. Today wasn’t any different and you just shut the door on the both of them and Hendery actually hoping you would turn back and say bye to him too.
You dried your freshly washed hair and finally laying your exhausted body on the bed after a long day. Swiping the notification widget, you unlock your phone to see a personal message from Hendery.
hendery: good night
hendery: it’s just for the game
hendery: don’t overthink
You smirked to yourself as you sense victory on its way, he’s probably just trying to lead you on by pretending to like you. Reverse psychology or something like that, they call it these days. You weren’t born yesterday and you knew how to make this game a bit more interesting, by playing along.
you: you too dear <3 sweet dreams
You hoped to see him reply with a tinge of surprise and maybe make your heart flutter with those cheesy stuff but you were subsequently disappointed,
hendery: k. 👌
You threw your phone by the bedside table and you got to admit that you were actually anticipating the morning text the next day. Unfortunately, your anticipation failed you and Hendery was the disappointment he always was when you saw your lockscreen clear of any ‘good morning’ texts in sight.
You went to office per normal, late with a toast hanging between your teeth as you slung your bag behind your office chair and a hot coffee you almost spilled over this mysterious pink thing on your office desk.
“What’s this?” you asked Kun.
“There’s a card I think.” his eyes not leaving the computer monitor for a second.
You turned the thing over to see an all-pink bouquet of flowers and a card attached to its edges.
‘Sorry I didn’t send that good morning thing. I had to rush in to office last night so I technically didn’t know if it was morning or night so here’s something to make it up. -Hendery” 
“Very pink, very Hendery.” Kun mumbled as his fingers furiously brushed across the keyboard.
You fished out your phone and took a picture of the bouquet to send it to Hendery.
you: hey, thanks for the flowers, you didn’t have to :)
You waited. And waited and waited. But no reply came in and you did start to feel a little defeated since bouquet kinda convinced you that Hendery wasn’t as bad as he seemed. You were quite shocked to see Hendery not there when the team gathered for lunch.
“Where’s Hendery?” you asked out of curiosity.
“Boss is grilling him like crazy today. Apparently, a customer wants to pull out of a million dollar deal that Hendery has been working on for months because of a section in the sales contract and he’s been in there and probably will be for the rest of the night trying to fix the problem.” Lucas lamented, sipping on his juice box.
You felt a little awry. For all those times you always accuse him for throwing his responsibilities to someone else and getting recognition for it when he actually did work hard and handled the consequences himself. Without a daily banter, today did feel a bit boring for you.
You were ready to knock off for the day as you packed your notebook and phone chargers when you suddenly thought of Hendery who had been busy working for the entire day, that he didn’t read your message at all. You took your bag and left the office.
Only to come back with two more bags of food for the both of you. There was a mix of sympathy, affection and maybe because you were feeling apologetic when you decided to bring him something to eat. You walked the empty hallway towards the sales department office, dimly lit with most computer monitors switched off except one. The boy sat in front of his post-it filled table and with his sleeves rolled up and face in his hands as if he was defeated and ready to give up. You tapped his shoulder, making Hendery jump in surprise.
“Hey, I thought you’d still be here and got you something to eat.” you told him
“This isn’t just to make it equal for the flowers I got you today right?” he chuckled softly, which surprisingly made your heart bounce a little.
“Nah. I got you chinese takeout by the way, hope you like it.” you asked sheepishly.
“You kidding? I would eat anything now, I’m about to faint from stress and hunger.” Hendery helps you to grab a chair and a small desk to set up the food in front of the both of you.
“Thanks, Y/N. This means a lot. I thought I wouldn’t see the end of today.” he digs into the noodles and slurped the tangy soup.
“Well, we’re joined at the hip for these five days, of course I wouldn’t let you lose so easily, not to hunger at least.” you jokingly teased him.
“You’re funny, you know. It’s that humor I actually like.” he puts his chopsticks down to look at you.
“I’m about to finish this soon, let’s go home together if you want? It’s pretty late too.” Hendery was right, it was already nearing midnight by the time the both of you reach the subway near your neighbourhood. You sat behind him as he filed the remaining documents while you folded tiny paper cranes with the scrap paper he gave you so he wouldn’t dispose them without thinking of recycling them and so you wouldn’t be so bored.
The walk home was rather awkward at first, a gap big enough for elephants to be in between the both of you. Both of you talked about your differences and discovered similarities that the both of you didn’t originally know like how the both of you were terrible drinkers, the kind to get red and fall asleep on the streets after a shot of alcohol and how the both of you preferred fudgy brownies than the dry crusty ones. You learnt that he was the only son in his family and he loved his sisters to bits and how he came to like the colour pink because it wasn’t a matter of whether it was feminine but because it was actually more appealing to his eye than colours like navy green or violet and before the both of you know it, the both of you were at the familiar intersection, where you head left and he head right back home.
“See you tomorrow, Hendery. You better hold that lift door for me tomorrow or I’m dragging you up the stairs with me.” you waved as you slowly made your way home.
“Y/N, I haven’t said it today but, good night and good morning,” there was some hesitation before the last word came out of his mouth,
“baby.” 
It was late and your mind is hazy and dysfunctional but that woke you up and it only and already felt natural for you to say the same thing,
“good night and good morning, dear.”
There was never a single morning you’d be early and you blame no one but yourself for smashing that snooze button every time your alarm rang. You were ready to take that stairs to hell because the queue for the lifts were always so damn long but to your surprise, a lift that was fairly packed but certainly enough space for you to squeeze in was about to shut its doors and you weren’t going to risk this even if it meant putting your foot in between the doors to avoid climbing the stairs. Like a miracle, the door opens for you once more and you see Hendery inside trying to control his laughter as he watched you pant in fatigue.
“Good morning, baby. I knew you were going to be late and I didn’t want to take the stairs so I made sure to hold the doors for you.”
“My dear, you sure know me well.” you waved him a quick goodbye and sprinted to your office as soon as you could.
There were visible looks of surprise when the boys saw you and Hendery having lunch, peacefully for once without wanting to get at each other. And they were starting to feel positive at the looks of this as if humanity and peace had been restored on this earth. 
Ten, Hendery and you walked home, the three of you engaging in a proper conversation and not one ignoring the other. And when you said goodbye to both Ten and Hendery, you could hear Ten’s disbelief.
“Bro?! She said bye to you bro?” Ten exclaimed.
“Bro…” Hendery shrugs his shoulders, pretending to be surprised but he felt like he was in heaven at that moment.
The last day came and that meant that the challenge was about to end after the lunch break. You felt a tad bit sad, unsure if Hendery was going to go back to being mean to you after this. You really warmed up to him and understood him so much better and even if it doesn’t end up in a relationship, you wanted to keep this newfound friendship.
“Okay, it’s time for the final rule. Five words you want to tell each other.” Yangyang gave both of you a post it and a pen each.
Hendery looks at you expectantly, biting his lips nervously as he thought hard about what to write in five words. Was five words really enough to tell you that he actually thought you were cool and wanted to get to know you better and take you out on a date or something. Or were you going to friendzone him and he might finally have a taste of his own medicine.
“Alright, please read your message.” Sicheng announced.
“Five days is not enough.” you read yours aloud, afraid it was too brief and if Hendery was too dense to know what it meant.
“Let’s talk over a dinner.” Hendery looks up at you shyly, hoping he wasn’t too direct to ask you out to know you better than he did.
“Ugh, this wasn’t exactly what we wanted but I’m glad the both of you aren’t going for each others’ throats anymore. “ Ten crossed his arms as he walked back to his office.
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