#anyway yeah i am looking for a weekday job now too. BACK to the point. on sundays when i buy lunch i buy a sandwich OR wedges / a pastry f

[violentdevotion]

i love your actimel fridge posting keep it up

:D thank you !!!! Its more full than usual right now because the other day i went shop and got some and today my brother went to get groceries and my mum told him to get me some actimel while he was there so for at least the next 2 weeks i should be good on actimel !!!!

[saintshigaraki]

the sun has not yet fallen

pairing: bakugou katsuki x gn!reader

word count: 2.2k 

excerpt: You look back towards the setting sun just once. You don’t really know why. Perhaps to find some bravery in the beauty of it, to steal yourself a few extra seconds of this limbo you’ve found yourself in. Where everything is hazy and beautiful and hurts so bad you can hardly breathe.

a/n: me: i hate angst

       also me: writes this fic

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, sometimes love requires work 

in case you want to read it on ao3!

Katsuki is in a bad mood. He was uncharacteristically quiet when he walked through the door which is more often than not a sign he was trying his damndest to hold back saying something just a bit too cruel. And you appreciate the effort, truly you do. 

On any other day, you would’ve let him be to work through his shit alone. He usually does that by cooking up something far too elaborate for a weekday night, and then after decompressing for a bit, he tends to slink back into whichever room you’re in and lay his head on your lap so you can work your fingers through his hair. 

You’ve found over the last two years that that is what tends to work best. Giving him space and letting him come to you.  

But today you’re feeling just as raw as he does. You can’t remember the last time you spent quality time together. You can’t remember the last time he didn’t go to bed so exhausted he was out before his head hit the pillow. You can’t remember the last time you didn’t feel this heavy cloud hanging over your head. You can’t remember a moment where there wasn't a timer counting down and down and down while you do nothing but wait for it to hit zero. You’re not quite sure what will happen when your time is up.

It’s selfish, probably, to want to be with him right now when you know he’s so weary, but you won’t even bother him, is what you tell yourself. You just want to be around him for an hour (or two) you want to stand so close to him you can smell the ever clinging scent of caramel and help him with dinner and think of brighter days. Better days. 

(You want things to go back to the way they were before. You want to cling to him, just for a short while, stuff your face into the crook of his neck while he tells you everything’s okay. That you guys are okay.

But that’s for another day. It has to be.

How many times have you told yourself that?)

You follow him as he stomps towards the kitchen. 

He aggressively grabs the ingredients for whatever he’s making and slams them on the counter, grumbling under his breath the whole time. You stand in the doorway worrying your hands, feeling awkward, and hating that you feel awkward in your own kitchen with your own boyfriend. 

It makes that awful nagging voice in your head grow just a bit louder. 

You approach him slowly while he sets up a pot filled with water and turns on the stove. He’s still grumbling to himself by the time you place your hand softly on his forearm. 

He jerks away immediately and narrows his eyes. You viciously stamp down exactly how awful that makes you feel. How small and unloved. 

“What do you want?” he says bluntly (and a little cruelly but a part of you says just ignore it, maybe if you close your eyes and cover your ears you can pretend that everything is fine, that you guys are fine) . 

That was part of his charm when you two first started dating. You loved that he was blunt, that he got to the point, there was really no guessing what Katsuki was thinking because he’d simply tell you and if it were any other day perhaps his words wouldn’t have bothered you as much as they did now. 

And it’s partly your fault, or maybe even mostly. Because you let it get this bad. You could have told him something was bothering you, that lately, you’ve been feeling a little insecure in this relationship. Katsuki was blunt but very rarely if ever cruel with you or your feelings. He would’ve understood, probably. 

But anytime you thought about broaching the subject with him, he always looked so, so tired. Bone tired. And you thought maybe it was selfish, to want him to comfort you over something this dumb. Over something as frivolous as this. He just needs time. 

(How much time, you wonder. How much more can you take? you ask yourself.)

“Are you fucking braindead or something,” he snaps, dragging you out of your spiraling. 

“I was just wondering if I could help. It’d be nice to cook dinner together.” We use to do it all the time, you almost say. Now you can’t even remember the last time you did. 

“You’re a shit cook,” he says. 

It’s true, and on another day, a brighter day maybe, you would’ve laughed. Or at least smiled. Because it was true. You are an awful cook, a shit one, as he so eloquently put it, especially compared to him. But that never mattered to Katsuki before. 

He always let you cook with him, always wanted you to cook with him, even if the majority of the time you ended up sitting on the counter swinging your legs and watching him do all the work. 

To be fair, afterward, you always cleaned the dishes. It was a lovely, simplistic give and take, one you wish you had again so, so dearly. 

“Yeah, I am,” you agree. You try to smile, but it feels forced. You’re tired, you realize, bone tired. 

You don’t say anything else and he turns away. You know that’s technically a dismissal but you elect to ignore and start unwrapping the vegetables. 

Just as you reach for a knife he grabs your wrist. 

“What the fuck is up with you right now?” he grounds out. 

“I just want to spend some time with you.” 

Your voice sounds frail, even to your own ears. 

And before he even opens his mouth you know what he’s about to say is going to bring all this to a head. And from the look on his face and the awful, gnawing in your gut, you know you’re not going to like it. You know that more likely than not, it’s going to break your heart. 

(A part of you can’t help but wonder if maybe your heart has already been broken. That it’s made up of haphazardly glued together pieces. Perhaps that’s why you feel so fragile. Perhaps the damage is done and you’ve just been waiting for Katsu to bring down the axe. To scatter the pieces. To finish the fucking job.)

“God,” he spits out. And it’s like a dam has been broken and every hateful thing he’s ever thought about you can’t help but come pouring out.  

“You’re so fucking needy, you can’t do a fucking thing by yourself. It’s like all you ever do is breathe down my fucking neck and tell me everything I’m not doing for you.” Distantly, you wonder if that’s true. It might be. Maybe it’s that ugly selfishness you’ve never really been able to hide. You thought you’d done a better job of tucking it away. You were wrong, it seems. 

“So I can’t spend every single fucking second of every single day with you, sue me. I’ve got my own shit to deal with, my own problems, or have you forgotten that I have a life outside of you?”

No, you think. I haven’t. Or maybe you have. You’re not really focusing so hard on his words. You tune them out as much as you can. You’re staring at his face, taking in all the details. The deep red of his eyes, the pale blond of his hair, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the slope of his neck, the little scars peppering his face. You used to sit on his lap and kiss each and every one, no matter how faint. 

You’re so weird, he’d say as you did it, but the tightness of his arms around you always spoke a different story. 

You’re going to miss that, you think. Holding him. Loving him. 

It takes you a while to realize he’s still yelling. It’s all hateful and cruel and so sharp. Like he’s taken a knife to your skin to flay you open, exposing every crack, every vein, every shattered piece of heart that makes you. You let it wash over you, like a particularly violent ocean wave.  

“Sometimes,” he says, his voice finally quieting to a bearable level, “I wonder why I’m still with you.” 

The breath you let out is shaky. No matter how ready you thought you were, there’s simply no amount of time that prepares you to hear those words from him. From the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. From the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. 

The silence between you two is deafening. And heavy. So heavy it feels as though your chest will cave in from the pressure. 

“Yeah,” you say at last, though you have to force the words around the burning iron poker in your throat. And then you laugh, you can’t help it. It’s all so fucked. You hate that it’s come to this bitter monstrous ugliness. 

When had this all started to fester, to rot? you wonder. Is this really all that’s left?

“I can’t help but wonder the same thing.” It comes out more bitter than you'd like. A small jab to try to even out the gaping wound he’s torn open in you. 

But it’s also true. 

You can’t see his reaction through the tears clouding your vision. You don’t really want to anyway. What’s done is done. What’s said is said. 

You grab your phone and keys and walk through the front door, closing it softly behind you. 

He doesn’t say a word.

You think if there was any part of your heart left unbroken, his silence has shattered it to oblivion. 

+

You walk for an hour or two. Until the sun has dipped almost completely below the horizon and it’s surrounded by hazy blood-red waves. 

It’s a good place to think. To set your jumbled thoughts in order. 

It takes a special kind of selflessness to love a hero, you realize. A type you don’t possess, not even nearly. You’ve always been just a little selfish when it came to love. But there’s no room for that when with people like Bakugou Katsuki. 

And that’s okay, you tell yourself. 

It’s a lie. It’s not okay. And the hollow aching in your chest that beats in time with your heart agrees. 

You look down at your phone. 

33 missed calls from Katsu 

You look back towards the setting sun just once. You don’t really know why. Perhaps to find some bravery in the beauty of it, to steal yourself a few extra seconds of this limbo you’ve found yourself in. Where everything is hazy and beautiful and hurts so bad you can hardly breathe. 

It’s not long before you’re biting the inside of your cheek, turning on your heels, and heading home. 

+

You don’t even have your keys fully out of your pocket before the door swings open, with Katuski on the other side looking a bit worse for wear, though you doubt you’re one to talk. 

His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is a bit pink. He’s been crying. You can’t remember the last time you saw him cry. 

(That’s a lie, you realize. You had gotten in the crosshairs of a particularly brutal villain versus hero showdown. The resulting injuries you suffered were severe. You’d apparently been a bit touch and go for a while. When you opened your eyes for the first time after everything, Katsu was right there, looking like hadn’t slept, showered, or eaten for days. Later you found out it’s because he hadn’t left your bedside since you returned from surgery. 

Katsu, you’d croaked out weakly, stretching out a shaking hand toward his face. 

He broke down into sobs so violent they wracked his whole body. It took him over an hour to calm down.)

You got about half a foot through the door before he threw himself at you. Wrapping his arms around you so tight it bordered on painful. He sinks down to the floor. You sink with him. 

He’s sobbing into your shoulder repeating a mantra of, I’m so sorry and I didn’t mean it. Please, please. I didn’t mean it. 

You think about that old saying. What a person says in anger is how they really feel. You don’t necessarily believe that. You yourself have said things out of anger that you in no way meant, that were purely thrown to hurt the person on the other end. 

You want to believe he didn’t mean it, more than anything you do. Because you love him. Because you really do think that Katsu is it for you. That he’s always been it for you. 

You pull away about as far as he’ll let you. 

“Do you love me, Katsuki?” 

The words hang in the air. You feel raw. Like you’re the one who has taken a knife to your own skin and flayed it all open for him. 

You don’t quite know vulnerability until you ask someone if they love you. It’s a different sort of weakness. 

“Yes,” he responds. His voice rough from his tears. “More than anything.”

You watch one last tear fall from his eye.

You hold his face in your hands and wipe it away. Softly. Gently. Lovingly. 

+

You guys are not okay and now that you’ve accepted that you think there’s a chance that one day, you will be. 

[deadbiwrites]

a video of supergirl grabbing lena luthor's ass starts circulating and it's very embarrassing for sc but extremely funny to their friends

(I am SO sorry. Where do these hide? Why do I never see them? How long has this been here?!

Anyways, have some cute nonsense!)

The day starts like any other, honestly.

Like, sure, Kara’s never thrilled when she wakes up 20 minutes late and has to use superspeed to get through her morning routine and into the office on time, but it happens regularly enough that she’s just sort of used to it by now. Like, the sky is blue, the grass is green, she manages time poorly. Whatever.

But she does get to work on time, with just enough to spare that she can make a brief detour to Nia’s desk for the coffee her protege has already bought for her, thank her profusely (with perhaps minor promising of firstborn children), and slip into the morning meeting just as Snapper, James, and Lena start handing out assignments for the day.

“Well, well, good of you to join us, Ponytail. Let me guess, a family emergency kept you out all night again?”

‘I mean, that Abraxian wasn’t my family, technically, but someone’s family, so…’ “Something like that. Sorry.”

Lena catches her eye and quirks a brow in question, but Kara just shrugs easily and sips her coffee, pulling a silly face at her friend when Snapper’s attention moves away from her. When her eyes uncross, she can tell Lena is fighting not to laugh, eyes sparking with mirth as she bites her lip. Kara takes another sip of coffee, feeling a bit smug that she can get Lena to smile without even having to say anything to her. That’s real talent, right there.

Especially since Lena has to stand up at the front with James, who has been by turns cold, dejected, and surly toward her since their breakup (a big, real, final one) a few weeks prior. Lena had said that the whole thing was a mistake, that she should’ve never gone for it in the first place because she’d been right the first time- they’d had some chemistry, after all, but it certainly wasn’t compatible long-term. 

Which… Kara can certainly relate. Like, a lot.

Especially about the whole… James being kind of wounded about it part. That part had really sucked- when he’d done it with Kara, who he’d gone on like, a date with, it’d resulted in him deciding to become a vigilante. Rao only knows what he’ll do when it’s someone he dated on and off for over a year...

“Ponytail!”

Kara jumps, realizing too late that her wandering attention hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Yes, sir?”

Snapper rolls his eyes. “Great, now that you’ve stopped orbiting Saturn, you wanna go get that article started?”

Kara’s eyes widen slightly in a panic as she realizes that she has no idea what he’s talking about. “Uh…” Behind his back, Lena catches her eye and nods subtly. Thank Rao. “Yes. I super do.”

Lena snorts, James sighs deeply, and the meeting is adjourned.

**

“So what exactly am I supposed to be doing today?” Kara asks Lena as they stroll out of the conference room together.

“Well unfortunately for you, you have to interview a big-time CEO. You have a meeting scheduled with her in three hours.”

“You?” Kara asks hopefully.

“You’re very sweet,” Lena chuckles. “No, Elena Watts. She’s a real estate developer, and she runs a nonprofit organization for homeless youth. It’s one of the articles we’re doing for next month’s spread. Contrary to popular belief, Cat and I weren’t the only women with high-profile jobs in this city. ”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool! Have you met her?”

“Not personally, no, but I have donated to her charity- it’s a very good cause, especially the outreach they do with queer youth.”

Kara elbows Lena gently. “You’re such a softie.”

“Mmm, maybe. But if you tell anyone, you’re fired.”

Kara clutches a hand to her chest, feigning horror. “Why Miss Luthor, what a blatant abuse of power!”

Lena shrugs. “I’m a Luthor, darling, I have to keep up appearances somehow.”

“Ouch,” Kara laughs. “See you at lunch?”

“Only if lunch includes a milkshake- I have a teleconference with both boards today. Unless you feel like joining me?”

“Wow, well as fun as that sounds, I’m gonna go do literally anything else.” Her comms crackle to life, alerting her of a hostage situation downtown, and Kara sighs. So much for a work day. “Alright, well, I’m, um, gonna go… see what I can find on Elena Watts. Maybe over another cup of coffee at Noonan’s.” She widens her eyes a bit, trying her best to convey that she’s going to be on Super-duty for a little while.

Thankfully, Lena picks up on it and grins. “You just want sticky buns.”

“Lena, I always want sticky buns. They’re like, my second favorite thing to eat.”

“Oh? What’s the first?” Lena asks, voice just a bit lower than usual. 

Kara opens her mouth and closes it, flushing slightly as she averts her gaze and adjusts the laptop bag on her shoulder. Stuff like that has been happening more and more, and she’s not 100% sure what to do about it. Because on the one hand, it makes her stomach do flips and tie up in knots and makes her brain do this… staticky thing where nothing filters in or out, just a pleasant buzz of how funny and smart Lena is and how much Kara likes hanging out with her and being flirted with (because that’s definitely what’s been happening, even if neither of them is really ready to address it) and just generally looking at Lena.... who is currently biting her lip and grinning up at Kara, and that buzz makes her kinda dumb, which is just really unhelpful. But on the other hand, it’s also kinda awesome and Kara really enjoys it, and-

“Kara?”

She spaced out again. Crap.

“Um. What time are you free for lunch?”

Lena sighs, seeming slightly disappointed that Kara isn’t flirting back at the moment (and thank Rao Lena can’t read minds), but she smiles back easily enough as they step off of the elevator. “I should be done by two.”

Feeling emboldened, Kara turns so she’s walking backwards in front of Lena and grins. “It’s a date,” she says with a grin, ducking forward to press a quick “friendly” kiss high on Lena’s cheek. She whirls and jogs out the double doors, leaving Lena smiling exasperatedly after her.

**

It is genuinely baffling to Kara that people still commit crimes in National City. It’s not even an ego thing, really, since Kara tries to keep herself humble (even when she manages to wrap up a hostage situation within twenty seconds of arriving on-scene without injuring any of the criminals or damaging the building too badly). Like, yeah, she gets that there’s a certain element of crazies who just sorta gravitate to places with a local hero, the big-bads who have their own suits and geek-toys and abilities. Them, Kara gets. Kinda sorta. But the regular ones, who are armed with like, pistols? Or knives? Just regular man made stuff without even the benefit of magic or kryptonite or something?

Why? 

She’s sure that if she asked, Lena would have some sort of statistical thing about large cities and poverty and all sorts of other factors that would end up making Kara feel like a jerk for being uncharitable to the criminal element of her city, but at the moment she’s mostly too annoyed by the fact that she has to spend her weekdays chasing them around instead of chasing stories.

Once all the hostages are freed and the cops secure the scene, Kara departs, flying into the alley behind Noonan’s and changing into her regular clothes before she heads inside to do a bit of research before her meeting with Elena Watts in a few hours (just because she’d used it as a cover doesn’t mean it was a bad idea…). She finds her favorite little two-person booth tucked into a quiet corner, plugs in her laptop, and gets to work, asking the waitress to please keep both the coffee and the sticky buns coming.

She gets a surprising amount done by the time she needs to leave for the interview, having a good foundation for what she wants to write and who Elena Watts is.

Ms. Watts turns out to be a pretty nice lady around Eliza’s age, if a bit busy and distracted by the steady flow of people in and out of her office. She answers all Kara’s questions with aplomb, happy to elaborate on most every point and eager to draw attention to the rising issue of homelessness among children and teens in the US.

“When I was young, my dad lost his job at the auto plant. It was supposed to be a temporary layoff, but the factory never reopened. We ended up losing the house, and we lived so far from our extended family that staying with them wasn’t much of an option. We lived in our SUV for six months, sleeping at shelters every now and again, if we could find one that allowed families to stay together. We showered at the local YMCA. Five people and a dog, living and sleeping in an old station wagon- even now, it sounds ridiculous. Eventually, we got back on our feet, but I never forgot that. It was just six months, but it was- and remains- the scariest, most uncertain time in my entire life, and it shaped me in a lot of ways I didn’t expect. And there are kids and families who do that for years. I just want to help them the way I wish that someone had been able to help us.”

At the end of the interview, Kara thanks her profusely for her time and for sharing her story before hurrying off to CatCo to type up a draft for Snapper (“What’s wrong with you, Ponytail, why is everything you bring me sappy and sentimental?”), which she finishes an outline of just in time to send it off before running to Big Belly and L-Corp for lunch with Lena.

She greets the newest in a series of secretaries (Anna? Amy? Ava? Lena’s really missing Jess, these days, but from what she’s told Kara, Jess is kicking butt in her new role as VP of Operations and will probably take over for the COO when he retires in a few years), and the girl waves her in distractedly.

And that’s when Kara’s day goes from normal to not, because inside the office are two masked men holding a stone-faced Lena at gunpoint on her balcony and demanding… something, probably. Kara’s a bit distracted by the loaded gun aimed at Lena’s head.

“Hey!” she yells, attracting both their attention. They whirl on her and Lena’s eyes widen in alarm, and Kara suddenly realizes three things- 1) she’s in her Kara Danvers clothes, not the supersuit, 2) she can’t speed into the suit now that they’re both looking at her, and 3) she has no plan.

Crap.

“Who the hell are you?!” one of them demands.

Kara… doesn’t have a good or snappy answer for that, and instead does the only thing she can think of- she throws the large milkshakes she’s carrying at them as hard as she can.

Which, in retrospect, is too hard, apparently because while yes, it is both funny and gratifying to see two grown men get absolutely leveled by a tasty dairy treat to the face, the one closest to Lena manages to elbow her in such a way that she falls backwards over the rail with an instinctual scream that makes Kara’s heart fly into her throat. She whips off her glasses, and by the time she’s out the window and speeding toward Lena’s flailing form, the suit is materialized. She gets under Lena, catching her carefully and dropping a bit further before slowing down (because she’s been made aware that when she doesn’t, the people she’s saving may as well be hitting the pavement), finally coasting to a stop about 20 feet from the ground.

Lena’s face is screwed up in a forced sort of focus, her hands clutching tightly at Kara’s shoulders and cape as she holds her breath.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks quietly.

Lena swallows thickly and nods, eyes still firmly closed. “I’m alright. Thank you- I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure how to get out of that one.”

“What was that? What did they want?”

Lena cracks an eye open. “Oh. you know, just my quarterly assassination attempt. I think my mother was starting to miss me, so she wanted to reach out.”

Kara snorts. “That really shouldn’t be funny.”

“Maybe not, but here we are.” Lena shifts a bit in Kara’s arms, cheeks a bit flushed from the adrenaline rush, and clears her throat. “Not to be rude, Supergirl, but do you think that perhaps we could continue this conversation… on the ground?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, sorry. I forgot we were, uh, flying.”

Lena chuckles as they ascend slowly back up to her office. “You forgot you were flying?”

Kara shrugs with an easy smile. “I guess you have that effect on me.”

Lena huffs a laugh against Kara’s neck, eyes squeezed shut again. They alight on the balcony, finding the two men still unconscious, covered in Kara and Lena’s lunch. Lena sighs as Kara sets her down, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What a mess.”

“Yeah, sorry, I sorta… panicked.”  

“I was so looking forward to a milkshake too…” Lena laments playfully.

“Well, then I have good news and bad news,” Kara says. She reaches out and gently wipes a bit of her own chocolate shake from Lena’s cheek with the pad of her thumb, tucking it into her mouth on instinct to get a taste of it. “The good news is, you do, in fact, have some shake on you!”

“Whats the bad news?” 

“Also that you have some shake on you.” Kara laughs, gathering the two men in her arms and hefting them a bit so they’re easier to carry. “I’ll get you another one. Be right back.”

She drops the men at the police station with a brief explanation before flying back into the office. Lena hands over her discarded glasses with a wry grin.

“I figured you’d need these before the police arrive.” She’s putting on a brave front, but she’s clearly still more than a bit rattled, if her too-bright eyes and thundering heartbeat are anything to go by. Kara steps closer and opens her arms in invitation, and Lena doesn’t hesitate to step into them. “Thank you,” Lena says fervently, tucking her face into Kara’s shoulder and wrapping her arms tight around Kara’s waist. 

“Always,” Kara promises, daring to press a reassuring kiss to Lena’s temple (and getting a bit of Lena’s strawberry shake for her troubles) before wrapping her up even tighter in her arms. “Are you actually okay?”

“I mean, my fear of heights has been reaffirmed,” Lena jokes, “but aside from that, I’m not hurt.”

“Good. I don’t like, love people pointing guns at you. Just so you know.”

“I’m not a fan either, for the record,” Lena drawls, burrowing even closer. “Even though I know you’ll save me, it still puts a damper on my day.”

Kara huffs a laugh. “Same.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, until Lena’s calmed down enough to stop shaking and calls her assistant (Audra, apparently) in, telling her what’d happened and that the police would be arriving shortly to take her and Kara’s statements, and please advise the security team to let them up discreetly. After the cops arrive, it’s a blur of questions, and Kara has to concentrate on telling the story of how she’d panicked and thrown the milkshakes at the men, and one of them had knocked Lena over the balcony (all true), and Kara had yelled for Supergirl, who had knocked the men out on her way to Lena (also technically mostly true. Technically. Mostly.). The police are sure to tell Kara that next time, she shouldn’t throw things at people with guns, and also to tell them both how lucky they are that Supergirl had shown up when she did.

“She’s always there when I need her,” Lena agrees, throwing a sly wink over the officer’s shoulder at Kara.

Kara just shakes her head and smiles. Even almost dying isn’t enough to make Lena not flirt with her. The woman is truly a marvel.

Kara’s comms crackle again, accompanied by Alex’s custom ringtone on her cell, and after assuring the police that she has no issue with giving another statement if they need her to later, hurries over to the DEO (making a quick stop in the back alley to change into her suit).

**

When Kara arrives, she’s told that J’onn and Alex are waiting for her in the Directors’ offices. She makes her way there, waving to the agents and scientists she knows. But it’s very weird, because every time one of them sees her, they start giggling before quickly hurrying off in the opposite direction. Like, literally everyone is whispering and pointing and giggling, and it’s giving Kara such visceral flashbacks to high school that it’s all she can do to not check her cape for a taped on sign that says ‘Kick me’ or ‘Freak’.

(Kids are mean.)

By the time Kara gets to her destination, she’s fully paranoid, sure that someone’s playing a prank on her, somehow, and that everyone but her is in on the joke. She opens the door with more force than intended and catches it just before the handle puts a hole in the wall, throwing Alex and J’onn a sheepish smile. She closes the door extra gently and leans against it heavily. J’onn and Alex just stare at her, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Busy day, Supergirl?” Alex asks, and after half a lifetime of spending time with her, Kara recognizes that she, too, is trying not to laugh. 

Kara’s had enough. “Okay, do I have something on my face? Or on the suit? Is someone messing with me?”

J’onn’s brow furrows. “No.”

“Then what’s the deal? Why is the entire DEO like… laughing at me? Did someone accidentally vent the lab fumes out into the main hub again?”

“No.”

“Did someone see me crash into that billboard last week?”

J’onn’s frown deepens. “What?”

“No,” Alex answers.

“Then why is everyone laughing at me?!”

“I mean, if I had to guess, I’d say it’s because of that,” Alex muses, nodding toward the big TV on the wall beside Kara.

She steps back to watch the news coverage of her dealing with the hostage situation this morning and frowns. “What, those guys? That was routine, what’s so funny about tha-”

“No, no, not that. That,” Alex clarifies, cranking up the volume.

“...reports are saying that the CEO of L-Corp, Lena Luthor, experienced an attempt on her life early this afternoon. Sources claim that she fell from a considerable height-”

“Hey, she was pushed,” Kara corrects.

“Shh!”

“...caught by Supergirl, who may have gotten a little… familiar with her.”

And there’s a video (clearly recorded on a cell phone but not the worst quality Kara’s ever seen) of Kara catching Lena and slowing to a stop above the sidewalk, of them talking quietly, of Kara’s hand definitely on Lena’s-

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Alex drawls, clicking the TV off with relish, a large, evil-big-sister grin spreading across her face. “Congratulations, Supergirl- the world just watched you grope Lena Luthor’s ass.”

“But I’m not- I wasn’t groping, I was catching! My hands weren’t… If it was groping, I’d be all up on her, and I wasn’t!”

“Camera begs to differ. It’s already trending on Twitter in National CIty.”

Kara puts her head in her hands and groans. “Why?! I was trying to save her!”

“You were definitely trying to save part of her,” Alex agrees. “Granted, it’s a very nice part...”

Kara’s head pops up, and she shoots Alex a look that’s between a pout and a glare. “You’re not helping.”

Alex feigns confusion. “Am I supposed to be helping?”

“Alright, enough,” J’onn cuts in before Kara can retort. “We just wanted you to be aware. I don’t think that this is going to be taken for anything more than it is- a humorous moment in the middle of a successful rescue. You shouldn’t worry about the press.”

And truth be told, Kara isn't worried about the press- she’s worried about the fact that she’s going to have to face Lena after this. Lena, who she knows for a fact has google alerts set for herself, Kara Danvers, and Supergirl, a gesture which is normally actually sweet and kind but is right now definitely gonna bite her in the-

“Okay! So, is that all?”

Alex blinks, looks over at J’onn, and shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Try not to make a habit of groping your crush when you’re in the suit.”

“I wasn’t groping her-”

Alex grins. “So you admit you have a crush? Interesting…”

“Alex!”

**

J’onn’s prediction is mostly right- no one seems to be taking the shots of her grabbi- saving Lena as anything other than a funny blip of a moment in their coverage of it.

He was wrong about the sheer scale. The clip had gone totally viral in a matter of hours, and seemingly every major network in the country has run the clip at least once as a bit of filler-fluff, and almost every major network anchor (including the ones at CatCo, the traitors) has made at least a passing joke about Supergirl being ‘Super-Handsy'.

Which means that Kara is very late getting back to Lena’s office with replacement food. But like, she’s been busy, okay? It’s not like she’s avoiding Lena, or something, because she’s embarrassed- which she isn’t, because she didn’t do anything bad or wrong and-

Anyways, it’s well past sunset by the time Kara gets to Lena’s office door again. She hesitates outside it for just a moment before shouldering the door open and knocking tentatively.

Lena’s attention jerks from whatever she’d been absorbed in to Kara, and a relieved smile blooms across her face. “Hey there.”

Kara finds herself equally relieved to not experience a repeat performance of earlier scary situations. “Hi,” Kara says, unable to resist smiling back. She raises the bags and cup carrier. “I bring grease and milkshakes. Again.”

“Oh thank god, I’m starving,” Lena says, rolling her chair away from her desk and rising into a deep and probably much-needed stretch. Kara very determinedly does not stare at the slight sliver of soft tummy that appears between her blouse and skirt at the motion. “I’ve been staring at this screen for several hours. And Sam called to yell at me- she says hello, by the way- she and Ruby are in town next weekend.”

“Good!” Kara crosses the room to the couch as Lena does, easily spreading out the veritable buffet of fast food she’d brought over the coffee table. “I mean, not good that she yelled at you, or that you’re still at work, Miss Luthor,” she says pointedly, receiving only an unapologetic shrug in response. “But good that, um-”

“I get it,” Lena chuckles, resting a hand lightly on Kara’s knee and boy, if that doesn’t make Kara’s brain go fuzzy and dumb again… “Thank you, for checking in.”

“Of course I was gonna check on you, Lena,” Kara huffs. “Plus, I know you probably didn’t get lunch, so…”

Lena hums around a mouthful of burger, chewing until she can politely speak again. “Well it’s delicious. Did you make it yourself?” she teases with a sly grin.

“Oh, yeah, totally. Slaved away over a hot stove for this- I just wrapped it in Big Belly wrappers so you wouldn’t feel bad about it.”

“Very clever.” Lena pops the lid off of her milkshake and drags a fry through it (an advanced culinary delicacy Kara had horrified her with initially but had eventually become a bit of a guilty pleasure). “Although I have to say, traditionally you’d have to buy me dinner before you grabbed my ass.”

Kara chokes on a pickle. “Oh no,” she groans, dropping the burger onto the wrapper on the table and dropping her very red face into her hands as Lena laughs beside her. She peers out from between her fingers. “I am so sorry, I was just worried about you hitting the pavement and like, catching you in the least jarring way and I wasn’t paying attention to where my hands were and I didn’t even notice until I got back to the DEO and-”

“Well I have so say, I feel a bit offended that you didn’t even realize you were copping a feel...” When the only response is another groan and a deep flush spreading from Kara’s neck to the tips of her ears, Lena relents. “Kara, Kara, it’s fine!” she laughs, pulling Kara’s hands away from her face and giving them a grounding squeeze. “Nia’s been sending me memes about it all day, which has improved my mood significantly. On the grand scale of fallout from assassination attempts, this one was at least funny.”

“I know that’s supposed to be comforting, but all it makes me wanna do is wrap you in bubble wrap forever,” Kara informs her.

“Pass on that. But seriously, don’t worry about it- I know it wasn’t on purpose- unfortunately for me, you’re too noble to do something like that,” Lena laments playfully.

And whether it’s the knowledge that Lena is not, in fact, upset, the overall weirdness that has been this day, or this delicious burger fueling it, Kara feels a bit emboldened. “Hey Lena…”

“Yes?”

“What if I wanted to grab your butt? Just, y’know, as a hypothetical. For future reference.”

Lena quirks a brow at her, fighting a smile as she contemplates this. “Hmm. Strictly hypothetically?”

Kara scoots a bit closer on the couch. “Sure.”

 “Well, you’ve already bought me dinner…”

“And lunch, technically. Even if I gave it to the bad guys.”

“True. Plus you saved my life, so that gets you some points, probably.”

Kara pauses in her sly scooching. “Oh, hey, wait, no, that’s not-” 

“Kidding, Kara. I know you’d never use that to your advantage. I, however, have determined that strong moral fibre and nobility do, in fact, earn you more points, which is my choice on the matter and you get absolutely no say in it.”

“Oh. Um, alright, I think.”

Lena stares off into the middle distance, tapping her forefinger thoughtfully against her chin. Finally she shrugs. “Yes, I think you’re fulfilled the prerequisites for a bit of grab-ass today.”

Kara snorts, Lena laughs, and soon enough Kara takes her up on the offer.

**

“Hey Kara, remember that time you grabbed Lena’s ass and it made international news?” Nia asks around a mouthful of mushu pork.

“You mean last week? Yes, I remember,” Kara drawls. Beside her/halfway sitting on her lap, Lena snorts.

“That was the best.”

Alex glares. “Um, excuse you, no. No it was not. I had to sift through so much thirsting over my sister on like, every social media platform. It was the worst day of my life.”

Brainy’s brow furrows. “Surely that cannot be correct, Alex. Statistically speaking-”

Alex holds up a hand, cutting him off. “Trauma can’t be measured, Brainy.”

Kelly chuckles and presses a consoling kiss to Alex’s cheek, and it makes the tough agent melt into a doe-eyed puddle of mush that Kara snorts. And she says they’re gross... Kara sneaks a glance at Lena from the corner of her eye, and she catches Lena looking at her. She leans close and jostles her gently as she drops her head onto Lena’ shoulder. “We’re never gonna live that down, are we?”

“Probably not.”

“We have the worst friends.” When this elicits nothing but a chuckle, Kara tips her head back to see Lena still looking at her, a soft smile playing at her mouth and shining in her eyes. And like, this whole thing they’re doing is new, with the kissing and the actual dates and the... everything else. But the thing where Kara catches Lena looking at her and she doesn’t look away? That freakin’ knocks her out, every single time. “Hey,” she manages.

Lena grins down at her. “Hi.”

So yeah. Maybe the initial circumstances weren’t ideal, and she doesn’t love the mockery that’s been heaped upon her by all of her friends and loved ones (including Winn, who’d sent a missive from the future that literally just said ‘LOL’). But the fact is, Kara muses as she surges up just enough to kiss the corner of Lena’s mouth, that she doesn’t regret a thing.

[incomingalbatross]

GF Fic: (Insert Time-Related Pun Here)

Having a birthday on the last day of summer was great when you were a kid.

When you were in college and vacation ended somewhere in the last third of August? Not so much.

“Grunkle Ford, I...I don’t think Mabel and I can make it to Gravity Falls,” Dipper confessed, the day before his twenty-second birthday.

“Is it the travel time?” Ford asked from the other end of the phone. “If your usual transportation is too slow, we can call in a favor or two for you kids—I know plenty of entities that would be happy to give you a lift as a birthday present—”

“No, I know, I know,” Dipper said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “And I really appreciate that, Grunkle Ford, I just...it’s not the travel, it’s being there. The other years we’ve been in college, our birthday was always on a weekend—last year was a Monday, but we spent that year with you guys instead of in school—”

“Thank goodness that seer tipped us off about her vision of 2020!” Ford agreed. “Taking a gap year to sail the Arctic with us was definitely the right decision for you two.”

“Right? Half a semester of online classes was more than enough. But—I mean, maybe it’s being back in school after being gone for a year, maybe it’s just early-semester problems, but...” Dipper sighed. “It’s just, I’m taking five classes, and I’ve got a TA job this year, and I’m getting back into the DD&MD group again and maybe planning to DM a oneshot as a Halloween event, and...” He sighed again. “It all looked much more manageable on my schedule. It was color-coded and everything!”

Grunkle Ford hummed noncommittally.

“Yeah, I know,” Dipper admitted. “Not the first time I’ve overbooked myself.”

“Not quite, perhaps. But it’s very good that you’re learning to recognize it and take steps to take care of yourself—when I was in college, I burned out routinely.”

“Mabel would sic the ‘Self-Care Fairy’ on me again if I didn’t learn.” The “Self-Care Fairy” was a truly terrifying onslaught of Mabelness, complete with costume and character voice, and would not go away until its subject had reached an acceptable level of well-being and had examined their mistakes. “Which is why...I have to cancel. If I came to Gravity Falls, even with instant travel, I’d only be able to get there around like 5:00 PM and I’d be stressed and anxious the whole time. And then I’d get back here exhausted and with no homework done and with class tomorrow, and...I just don’t think I can afford that.” Dipper paused, a knot twisting in his stomach. “I’m really sorry, I wish we could come...”

“Of course, Dipper, we know you do!” Grunkle Ford hastened to assure him. “Don’t feel sorry for us—of course we’d love to see you, but we just had the summer together. I’m just sorry you’re so short on time.” There was a moment’s silence.

“But how is Mabel doing? Is she facing the same challenges?”

“I mean, sort of.” Dipper smiled ruefully. “She kept trying to figure out some solution so that we could have our usual birthday and everything would work out, but...neither of us could come up with anything that would actually work. And she’s really busy too. She jumped back into school full steam ahead, and she’s got her Etsy store, and all her social groups to keep up with—you know she’s better at managing her energy than I am, but it’s still a lot.”

“I understand that,” Ford said. “You both do what you need to to keep up with your responsibilities, okay? We’re very proud of you both, you know.”

Dipper swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know, Grunkle Ford.”

“Well, then, I’ll let you go—I imagine you have plenty to do right now! We’ll get in touch with you tomorrow, even if only by text.”

“Thank you, Grunkle Ford! Mabel and I are going to video-call at some point, we think, so there’s that. Say hi to Stan and Soos and Melody and the kids and everyone for me?”

“Of course, my boy. Have a good evening.”

“You too.”

The call disconnected, and Dipper sighed, throwing himself down on his bed. After a minute, he picked up his phone again and texted Mabel.

Just called Ford and canceled plans. He said to take care of ourselves and that he and Stan are proud of us.

Then he pushed himself into the homework for tomorrow until his phone buzzed.

Aww, of course he did. <3 Thanks for calling, brobro. I wish we could go, but you were right--I’ve got WAY too much booked. Why didn’t we check what weekday our birthday was FIRST???

Dipper snorted. Maybe we’re dumb :/

IMPOSSIBLE, Mabel sent back. Clearly an evil College Schedule Gremlin messed with our brains

Is that the same guy who makes it so you can never take the prereqs you need when you need them?

Yep!! And the one who fogs your brain so you THINK you’ve filled all your requirements until it’s too late to patch up the holes in your plan. His phone buzzed a second time after that text. ...Ugh, maybe there ARE gremlins in all the college systems

It would explain Blackboard, Dipper agreed with a frown. Huh, maybe they should look into that...

Anyway, though, u good for Zoom tomorrow?

Dipper huffed, reminded of the fact that they had no time for a paranormal investigation right now. Yeah, he typed, I can do an hour or so anytime after 5:30.

Cool, I will figure out a time and let you know!! Can’t wait to see your 22-year-old face!! :) Even if it sucks that we can’t party :(

Same, same. TTYL :)

Dipper tossed his phone aside again, shutting his eyes for a minute. It wasn’t just the party that had him down—though he would miss the bash that Gravity Falls usually threw on their birthday. It was...everything.

It was having a birthday without Mabel.

Oh, sure, they would talk, but they wouldn’t be in the same place. That was why, really, he’d hung onto their plans until the very last minute. He’d made it work on paper—taking an evening to travel to Gravity Falls, have a party, and be back in time for the next class—and it just felt wrong to admit defeat, to compromise on something this important. Their birthday meant the two of them celebrating together, having a good time, acknowledging that it was important.

This year wasn’t going to feel like a birthday at all, Dipper thought glumly.

But no, that was quitter talk. They were going to do their best anyway, because they were the Mystery Twins! Even if the situation was lame. Even if he was going to spend his time on the call with Mabel tomorrow doing homework and/or bursting with stress.

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Why do I always overfill my schedule?” he asked plaintively.

The ceiling didn’t answer.

---

Dipper dropped his backpack with a thud on his dorm room floor, hastily unzipping it and digging out his laptop. He was late—he’d left his thermos in his last classroom, and been halfway across campus before he realized and turned around to go get it. He blamed his sleep deprivation (a week in, and his body still hadn’t readjusted to the rhythm of morning classes).

Now, though, he could finally pull up Zoom. He plugged in his headphones as he waited for it to connect (stupid dorm wifi), and was rewarded with an ear-splitting squeal.

“Happy birthday, Dipper!”

He grinned at her beaming face. “Happy birthday, Mabel!”

“Did you get a birthday cupcake?” she demanded. “Or at least a birthday cookie?”

He grimaced. “I got ice cream at the cafeteria, but I had to eat it there,” he confessed. “Here, I’ve got...a birthday candy bar?”

“Hmph.” Mabel looked crestfallen, but plastered a smile on anyway. “It’ll have to do! We can sing Happy Birthday, anyway. One, two, thr—”

Before they could launch into an inevitably out-of-sync rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Dipper heard a loud knock. Judging by Mabel’s startled turn towards her door, she heard it too—

Wait, what?

The knocking repeated. On both their doors.

“..Huh,” Mabel said thoughtfully. With a wordless glance between them, they both unplugged their headphones and went to their respective doors.

“Happy birthday, slugger!” Stan said, grinning, the instant he saw Dipper. Over the internet, Ford’s voice was greeting Mabel at the same time.

Dipper’s jaw dropped.

“Ha!” Grunkle Stan shoved past him into the room. Waving to the camera, he added, “Happy birthday, sweetie!”

Ford peered past Mabel into the screen. “Happy birthday, Dipper, my boy!”

“But—what—”

“Grunkles!” Mabel cried. “...But wait, why not just video call us? Not that we’re not happy to see your wrinkly faces, but you came such a long way!”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dipper said, waving his arm in confusion. “You guys—you know we can’t really visit, right? Even with you with us? We don’t have time. I dont want you guys to waste a trip—”

“But we didn’t,” Ford said smugly. “We came to bring your birthday presents.”

With a flourish, Stan produced something and handed it to Dipper. It looked like...a piggy bank, but with a clock face set into the side?

Mabel gasped. “It’s so CUTE!”

“But what is it, Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked.

“Simply put, my boy...it’s time.”

“It’s a Time-Savings Bank,” Stan said proudly. “Got our hands on these babies a few months ago, on a little side trip. See, when you’ve got some extra time—like, at night, or when you’re waiting for a pot to boil, or whatever—you can use these gizmos to store it up instead! Then when you need more time, you use the clock to take it back out. Whammo! You squeeze in a few extra hours between the normal ones.”

“Like Daylight Saving Time without the false advertising,” Ford added. “We know you two are short on time right now, but...if you’d like, there’s enough in here to give you and everyone currently at the Mystery Shack a good few hours of spare time. What do you say, kids? Still up for a party?”

“Are we!” Mabel crowed.

Dipper stared at this miraculous device. “But...that’s a lot of hours,” he said. “Where did you get the time?”

Stan barked out a laugh. “You kiddin’, Dipper? We figured from the start that at least one of you would burn out when you went back to school. We’ve been putting time aside in these things for months.”

“...Really?” Dipper said. Somehow, he found himself blinking rapidly, and swallowing down some obstruction in his throat.

Stan coughed uncomfortably, looking away. “I mean, it’s not like we gave you any time we had a use for. Just some odds and ends here and there...every day... Anyway! You kids wanna get this show on the road?”

“YES!” Mabel shouted.

Dipper beamed. “Definitely,” he said. “Absolutely.”

And a few minutes later, when they all found themselves in the Shack (courtesy of one of those “favors” Ford had mentioned yesterday), and Dipper had piled into the inevitable group hug with his twin and his grunkles—and with hours of birthday celebration in front of them all—he had to add, “Best present ever.”

[promptprophet]

Welcome back

I am not dead, although I am ready to throw down. Okay so there is a lot under the cut, but by every star in the sky I have been gone from all of my blogs for a while due to some roccuring issues. If any follow my main at @prophet-rebellion then you may have noticed that.

Some pro-tips:

1. Do not attend a gathering with family that does not believe in Covid. Because if they are anything like mine, someone will tell them they tested positive, your Uncle will encourage them to come anyways and not tell a single other person - and then, surprise surprise, everyone ends up with Covid.

2. Do not let your advisor plan your schedule entirely. Even if they are the Dean of your department. Because if they are still like mine, they will give you six classes. Which would not be an issue of 18 credit hours if it were not for the fact that 5 or the 6 are writing enriched. The only one that it not is math-based which is not my strong suite anyways.

But, in other news - I took a toll for the worst at one point. It has since gotten better. Granted, I had to be the biggest pain-in-the-ass to the campus physiatrist because he wanted to revoke some of my medication. Just because I am somehow making all As for the moment does NOT mean that I do not need my ADHD medication.

Speaking of! Yours truly got formally diagnosed with combination ADHD, depression, and anxiety. And after a lot of trial and error, we have found a medication and dosage that actually helps with the latter two! ADHD is still a work in progress because he is fighting me on it. He also doesn’t want me taking my meds unless I have a face-to-face class that day - as if it is some 9-5 weekdays only issue and I do not have class outside of those times, or online ones. But! A work in progress!

Also, Covid gave me the perfect chance to drop an incredibly toxic group of people in my life. One one hand, my mental health is so much better for it, and so is my own sense of self worth. On the other, it is definitely hard to do and hard to adjust to suddenly losing so many people. But I have reconnected with my 14 year old sister for the first time in 5 years - she wants to have lunch. Which is nice considering I have no spoken to my sisters in 5 years for her, 6 years for the older one (the middle). And I am also trying to reach out to my brothers more. It is interesting, because I did not know them until later. I am the oldest out of 5, 2 half-sisters of my mom’s side, 2 half-brothers on my dads, ironically enough.

I am also seeking out a competent doctor even with Medicaid, because I know need two more surgeries. This will make surgeries 4 and 5. It should have been 2 at most. But 5? And that is minimum, not counting if anything goes wrong again. It is taking longer, because I refuse to see my prior surgeon, and the only opening this past winter break as when I had to have my wisdom teeth removed, so, that did not happen.

Given circumstance I have managed to find a place to stay during breaks. Which is great because as some of you may recall I was kicked out after I turned 18 in 2019, and the room I rented over that summer was terrible (maybe leaving a known alcoholic with no regard for privacy alone with a just then 18 year old girl is a bad idea - if the number of times he barged into my room unannounced to try and get me to drink with him was anything to go by), but it was so my parents could travel full-time. Which, they are doing now and I am happy for them because my mom has 10 years maximum if she is lucky before needing oxygen (Smokers Lung), and my dad is dealing with medical injuries he got while serving - they discharged him because they would never heal right.

I have also picked back up with my job on my college campus! So money! And have secured a much better paying job over break than my McDonalds job, meaning I am not so hard pressed for cash. Which is also great because the last week of summer I had to dish out $2500 for my truck after it broke down in Tennessee and we had to get towed back to North Carolina.

So! Down to business! Now that I know what was wrong with me, and I no longer have issues with suicide, I’m on medication, and last semester I had a therapist that was a major help to me. I am actually in a better spot to be here. It has certainly taken a lot of work, and 2020-21 has thrown just about everything that it seems to have been able and hell, I am still looking for a third job.

Speaking of, god damn, the commissions! Jesus H. Christ, I wanted those done by January! And it’s March! Although I have been making progress on them, that is absolutely true - I am working on them a bit oddly though, switching between which ones I do to try and stop burn out and also because I was not drawing while mentally at my lowest. So to anyone who commissioned me who may not be looking at those messages, but sees this, I am sorry, they are being worked on. And I understand this is a ridiculous amount of time to wait for them and thank you all for being so patient.

I have also been considering if it is a good choice for me to come back to this page, and yes, I think that it is. Having something that I do every day has proven to be very helpful, and the amount of joy and love I have for these pages and the followers on them is immense. I was trying to clear out storage on my phone and I have an album just of prompts or asks that you guys have sent that continue to make my day. It really does mean the world to me.

I cannot be too sure if many have noticed my absence, if Prompt Guy did either. But I am stopping it now. I am finally in a good place. And yeah, I have a lot to do still - if all goes according to plan then I graduate next year. So after this I only have two more semesters before I graduate with my Bachelors in Business, with a focus on Entrepreneurship at the age of 20. And I better because I cannot afford to be in college much longer. I want to be back here, and return to my regular postings and interactions. I am getting those commissions done no matter what - that is a constant guilt over my head. Trust me, I know that it is there. I know. But I joined as an admin because I had followed this page the day it was created. And then I saw it had gone dead with no posts, so I applied as an admin. I got it. And things went very well. Well, I intend to hold back to what I wanted when I was first on this page, bringing it back to consistent postings for everyone.

I am here. I am back. And I am staying.

Also, I apologize if there are any typos, I have been doing a lot or writing for homework and personal work (trying to stop burn out and the threat of school ending my love to write) and my eyes have been strained the last few days, so everything is a bit fuzzy. Speaking of fuzzy! Turns out I needed glasses! So I have glasses now!

Yours truly, Prompt Prophet

[halcyonstorm]

The Girl at the Library Chapter 1

Short Fic - Levihan

Themes: College AU, Library, Fluff, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Female Hange Zoe, Student!Levi

Word Count: 5730

Chapter: 1/3

Warning: Mild Language

Read on Ao3 - The Girl at the Library

Summary: Levi is a college student who needs help on his research paper. Luckily, Hange is a book worm and works at the library. 

Levi was stressed and annoyed, mainly because he was in college. Of course with college comes infinite amounts of homework assignments, 100-question exams with astronomical amounts of topics on them, unnecessary research papers, and staying in a dorm room with a kid that happens to have no problem inviting his friends over every night to hang out and party with no regards to his sullen roommate.

Levi had a paper coming up. He had to come up with a topic, find sources, and finish his paper by the end of the semester. With three weeks left to go, he decided he’d rather get it over with. He began his brainstorming in the study lounge at the center of his dormitory floor. He was starting to stress. He sat on the big yellow leather couch in the way-too-bright study lounge with his laptop in his lap. He tapped his pen against his head as he tried to think of an idea. 

“You have to write about a topic related to your major,” The professor explained. “This is the one and only paper you will have assigned this semester. I suggest you get it done as early as possible.”

If only it were that easy. He had the rubric pulled up in one tab, and a ton of “How to pick a research topic” websites in others. His major was pharmaceuticals, a field he was inspired to take on because of his mother. She was very ill when he was very young, so they were in and out of hospitals. He was sitting on the edge of his mother’s hospital bed when a nurse came in the room to administer her medications. 

“This is…” His memory was blurry. “This medication will help… and make you feel better.” And it did. 9 year old Levi was fascinated. This one little pill or bag of what looked like water helped his mother feel better. Within hours, his mother’s skin went from pallor to beige. Her hands were warmer. She looked more awake, more alive. She didn’t wince at Levi’s touch. She was in less pain. She got better, like the nurse predicted.

Since then, Levi always asked questions whenever they visited the hospitals again and again. “What kind of drug is that?” “What does it do?” “How long does it take to take effect?”

Levi recalled the memory with a deep sigh. He missed his mother. She was at home, not too far away. Levi never had the time to travel the hour through the big city to visit her. When he did have free time, he spent it studying or sleeping. He felt his heart twinge at this. She had sacrificed everything to help him attend college and to give him a good life.

Now with his head cloudy, he went to reach his water bottle in his backpack. He opened the lid and took a sip. At that moment, he could hear some obnoxiously loud students throwing tennis balls back and forth to each other. He recognized these kids too, they were some (of many) of the lovely visitors his roommate had over most nights. Suddenly in the blink of an eye, Levi’s water bottle spilled all over his laptop, a tennis ball on the floor next to him, and some worried voices approaching him. Within seconds, the laptop started to steam and the screen went black.

His laptop was fried, he determined. He felt heat start to rise inside of him. 

“Oh my god, man. I am so sorry,” One of the kids said, trying to hold back a laugh. 

“Yeah, man. We didn’t mean to.”

Levi took a deep breath and stood up. These kids… were gonna pay.

He closed his broken laptop and stood up. These kids were much taller than him, but looked to be easily intimidated by Levi’s presence. 

“Do you have the money to pay for this?” He sneered, getting very close to their faces. 

“Eh… no, but we have jobs! We can pay you back over time,” One of the kids trailed off. They seemed to be intimidated by the short man. “You live in 112 right?”

Levi nodded, his face heating up with anger. “This laptop cost me a lot of money.”

“We get it, man! We said we’re sorry,” the other kid explained. “We’ll pay you back or whatever.”

“Tch,” Levi clicked. He was extremely pissed. These kids should not be throwing balls at each other in the hallway. Also, they spilled his water which made a mess. “Which room are you both in?” They responded with 118. The one kid explained they get paid on the 15th and 30th of each month. Luckily, their pay day was 4 days away.

“I’ll stop by Tuesday, the 16th,” Levi decided, before gathering his things and heading to the stairs. He began to walk through the campus. Fuck, now where was he gonna go? How was he gonna find his topics? His computer was fucked. Putting it in rice wouldn’t have helped. He was so occupied having a debate with himself about where to research, he almost missed it. If he looked the other way or even blinked in that moment, he wouldn’t have seen it. It was the campus library. No, not the campus library, but a campus library. It blended into the surroundings, hidden from the passerbyers. There was a sign in the window “We’re Open!”. 

The library was small, to say the least. It was old fashioned, which contrasted the modern aesthetic of the university. It was a small, dark brown, wooden building with four-pane windows. The door was a lighter shade of brown. He decided it was easier to check out this little library instead of walking another 10 minutes to get to the main library. He didn’t have time to waste. He had to get started with his paper right away. He walked up to the door and opened it. When he did, a little bell rang at the doorway. 

“Just a minute!” A woman’s voice called from the back. Levi decided to wander around. There were many books crammed on the shelves. There were two computers on each side when he walked in. They looked out of place, considering they were very modern compared to the architecture of the library itself. The books were all shades of bright, vibrant colors. It was strange. From the outside, it seemed creepy and gloomy. Once he walked in, it was very cozy. The dark walls of the library contrasted the beautiful colors of the books.

Then, he saw the woman come out. She came up to the desk. He expected an elderly lady with her glasses on a chain, but he assumed this woman was a student. She was a young woman who wore thin oval glasses and her brown hair thrown up in a messy half-up-half-down ponytail. 

“Hi!” The woman said. “How can I help you?”

“I want to use a computer, please,” He announced. He glanced at her nametag which hung like a necklace around her neck. “Hange” was the name on the tag. It was strange and unordinary, but it had a nice ring to it. The name seemed to suit her.

“Sure! You are allowed up to two hours a day,” Hange explains. “You can choose whichever computer you’d like.”

The computers were unoccupied. In fact, the entire library seemed vacant except for him and the employee. 

“Does anyone actually come here?” Levi asked, setting his stuff down next to a desk, and looking her way. She looked like someone who would work at a library. 

The brunette chuckled. “You are my third visitor today!” She exclaimed proudly. It was already about 3pm. He remembered the sign in the front says “12pm-6pm weekdays”. 

Levi chuckled silently, air huffed out his nose. “How do you stay in business?”

“Well, the university thinks it’s good to have a small library in the outskirts of the campus so students have access to books and computers because the main campus library is in the center of the plaza. Sometimes we get about ten people a day, and sometimes they don’t even take anything out. Sometimes I wonder how…” She began to ramble now. She definitely has not had anyone else visit her today.

She was starting to get on his nerves. It’s been 20 minutes since he arrived, and she was still talking. He zoned out until she caught his attention.

“Hey,” She said. “What’s your name? I have to track whoever comes in to use the computers.” 

Why? No one else comes in. He noticed her clipboard with the sign-ins was blank.

“Levi Ackerman,” He announced. She scribbled his name down. “Okay, it’s 3:30 now, so you have till 5:30 if needed.” She pointed to the clock with her pen as she explained. He nodded and proceeded to walk towards the table with the computer he claimed. He sat down and began working.

-

He was an hour into his research when he finally threw his hands up in the air in frustration. He still couldn’t think of a topic. He groaned aloud.

Hange was leaning against the main desk, her nose stuck in a book. “How Trees Communicate” was the title. When she heard the young man groan, she looked up. 

“Is everything okay?” She asked, peering over her book at him.

“Yeah, yeah,” He mumbled. “Fine…”

Hange raised an eyebrow. She placed her bookmark at her spot, then strolled around the desk and walked over to him.

“What are you working on?” She asked, sitting in the seat next to him and put her hands on her knees, looking at him curiously. He scoffs. It was none of her business, he thought to himself. And it’s an invasion of privacy.

He was frustrated and desperate. Hoping for a miracle, he managed to tell her anyways.

 “I need a topic for my paper and I can’t think of any…” Levi began. “It needs to be based on pharmaceuticals, my major. It also needs scientific evidence to back up my research…”

She was fully absorbed in what he had to say. She was bored, so helping Levi would’ve been something to do at least. Besides, Levi was in luck. She was an avid reader, always reading about anything and everything. She was studying plants and botanicals, but she found herself frequently taking out books about cooking; religion; war; animals; and medical topics including surgery, pathophysiology, anatomy, and pharmaceuticals.

“What about how diuretics affect blood pressure?” Hange suggested. Levi was taken aback. His eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head in confusion. “Or if anti-alzheimer drugs actually help slow the progression of Alzheimer’s? Why do you take different medications during certain stages of Alzheimer’s disease? Or how do anti-seizure medications work? That is something I ask myself all the time. You take this little pill and BOOM! You’ll be fine, no seizure! Oh, oh, oh! Or, how certain medications cause certain adverse effects? How come so many medications cause anxiety?” Her eyes started to light up as she talked. They were a dark brown, but when she started to talk, they seemed to morph to a captivating hazel. He felt he could see every color in her eyes. He saw brown and green and the little lines of her iris. Hange’s hands would move as she talked, and her smile grew wide. She couldn’t keep still. She was getting excited by coming up with all these ideas. She seemed so passionate and so willing to help; he was overwhelmed by her.

Levi was in shock. His day started off horrible. Now, he was almost glad his laptop was fucked. This woman was making his mind race with ideas. 

“Are you okay?” Hange asked for the second time within his visit there. Levi nodded slowly. “I am just… How do you know all that? Are you a med student?”

Hange chuckled and waved her hand at him. “No… I am a bookworm! Also, my mom is a nurse, so she used to teach me about nursing stuff all the time. Oh! You could write about the pathophysiology of anticholinergics! Or beta blockers! Or how the body reacts to the use of long-term steroids?”

Levi took a deep breath. He felt euphoric. He had been casually trying to think of topics since last week. All of a sudden, this woman can just ramble off hundreds of ideas? Levi smiled visibly.

“Actually… I really like the final topic you suggested. About steroids.” Levi admitted.

Hange smiled back at him. “Great! I can try to help you find some sources or books.” She directed him to open a new tab and to go to a certain database. “This is where you can find reliable sources. Over here,” She pointed to his screen at the left side. “You can add filters. You can change how old or new you’d like the sources to be, filter out certain words or phrases, et cetera.” She had been closer to him now; she scooted her chair closer so she could explain the database to him. It was hard not to look at her as she explained. She was captivating.

Levi began to type in words for his topic.

“Steroids”, “Long-term use”, “Cushing’s Disease”, “Addison’s Disease”, “Addisonian Crisis”, “Pathophysiology”.

He felt like he was finally getting somewhere. He was finally making progress.

-

As Levi was walking home, he couldn’t get his mind off that girl. He decided to brainstorm about his topic in his room once he got there. The thing was, though, he couldn’t think of any more ideas. He found it funny. Of course he was full of ideas and inspiration when he visited that library, but now he’s void of any.

-

Levi’s weekends were no different than the weekdays. He made it appoint to visit the library again the next day, Saturday. It was a sunny, cool Saturday morning. Levi had inspiration to write. He needed a computer and Hange’s ideas. When he arrived, it seemed busy. There were three other patrons at the library.  He recognized Hange right away, helping a tall blonde man with a big nose. He wondered if she was the only employee there. The man she was helping was taller than her, so she had to reach up on her toes to point to items. She was an average height, but this action made her seem shorter than she actually was.

Hange looked his way and greeted him with a toothy smile. Levi waved at her and started to head down one of the aisles of books. He was in the nonfiction section, but was lost. For now, he just casually browsed the section, but quickly got impatient. He needed Hange’s help to find books for this paper. He heard her laugh with the patron. Maybe he’s a friend, he thought to himself. Her laugh was airy and full of heart. It seemed genuine and passionate. Levi felt an urge to make her laugh, too.

She finally made her way over to him. Levi was looking down at a book when she caught his eye. “Hey, stranger!” She greeted him with a wave. “Whatcha looking for?” She placed her hands on her hips.

“I’m trying to find some sources for my paper. Steroids is the topic,” Levi explained.

“Oh, right. I remember! After you left last night, I tried to look for some books for your topic,” She said. She was trying to help me? Levi thought to himself.

She curled her finger in a “follow me” gesture and he did. She brought him to another aisle or two over from where they were. “These are the 600’s, where you’ll most likely find what you’re looking for. I found a book or two about Addison’s disease, but it’s more of a memoir. You can look around though if you’d like. Anything in the 610’s should be right up your alley.” She explained as if she was going to leave, but she didn’t. Hange looked for books with him. 

After a moment, she made a noise. “Look at this!” She exclaimed. She reached next to him to reach for a book. She was on her toes again. “Mmmm,” She moaned as she tried to reach. “Actually, I’m gonna get the step stool. I don’t think I can reach it.” Quickly, she left and came back with the stool. It looked unreliable, but Levi was sure he’d be able to prevent any accident from occurring. Hange placed it on the ground and stepped up on it, grabbing the book with ease. She stepped down with the book in her hand. This book had a white cover with a blue label and was titled “Coping with Prednisone”. Levi was surprised she even knew what prednisone was. 

“Here!” She reached it out for him to grab. He took it and looked at her face. She had that same look in her eyes. “Did you want to use the computer?” He nodded and she led him towards the front of the library. The library was small from the outside, but very deep inside. It reminded him of a forest. 

“I got your name, don’t worry,” She said, clicking her pen and writing his name down on the sheet. 

“Oops!” Hange made a quick grimace. “I added an ‘e’ at the end. I’ll just cross it out.” The statement sounded like it was addressed to herself rather than to anyone else. She crossed out the extra letter.

“Ackermane”. Levi was gonna attempt to make her laugh.

“If you thought I looked like a horse you could’ve just said so.” 

Mane, horse mane. Get it?

It felt like forever before Hange responded. She looked up at him, starting to laugh. It was a short but audible laugh. Her head nodded back and she smiled. Her cheeks turned pink and her eyes lit up for a moment. It made his heart skip a beat. It was a bad joke yet she still laughed. She chuckled. Giggled? No. Laughed lightly. Chortled? Maybe that’s the right word. Whatever it was, he wanted to do it more, maybe even more than that.

He followed her to the computers. The blonde guy she was helping earlier was on one computer. She led him to the two computers across from the other ones and sat down in the chair next to him.

“What are you doing?” Levi asked, placing the book she found for him on the table.

Her eyebrows raised, and after a moment she reacted. She waved her hands in front of her.

“I’m sorry! I thought you may have needed help. I should get back to work anyway. I gotta go through a new box of books that just came in.”

Levi looked up at her. Is she blushing? he asked himself.

“I’ll let you know if I need help.” Levi responded. She smiled at him before quickly walking away.

-

He started to find some evidence-based practice articles about how steroids can cause long-term side effects, especially if stopped abruptly. He made sure to keep the tabs available. He’d have to cite them later. Levi’s mind was racing with words and sentences and ideas. He had to get them down on paper. He opened Documents on the computer and started typing away.

The clicking of the keyboard soothed him. He was a pretty fast typer, he didn’t make many mistakes either. The library around him began to become quiet as his typing got louder and he got deeper in thought. Before he knew it, his two hours were up. He felt someone approach him from his right.

“Hey,” Hange said, gently tapping the table next to him. “It’s 2pm. I gotta close up.”

Levi snapped out of his focused trance with a quick head shake. “Right. Sorry.” He pulled out a flash drive from his backpack and plugged it into the computer. He transferred his document. “I got the first page done.”

Levi asked himself for a brief moment why he was sharing this information with someone he just met. Maybe since she helped him, he felt she should know.

“That’s great! It seemed like you were really focused,” Hange said, walking away to shut off some lights. Only then did he notice the white noise of the overhead lights quickly dissipate. The room buzzed with silence now. Levi and Hange were alone in the library. Suddenly, Levi felt nervous. He watched Hange walk around the room frantically, making sure to shut off all the lights and computers. She grabbed a bag. The bag was a fabric material with a patchwork design that had a long strap that hung on on her shoulder. Maybe she made it herself. She grabbed her big mess of keys and walked towards him.

“Ready?” She said. He nodded and walked outside, holding the door for her. She thanked him, locking the door behind her. They began to walk down the street slowly. 

“Want to grab lunch?” Hange asked, looking at him. Levi looked back at her. She looked pretty.

“Sure, I can eat.” Hange chuckled at that. He didn’t try, but it made her happy for a brief moment. He seemed nervous but she was too.

They decided to eat at a cute restaurant on campus called “Life in Paradis”. It was a small, dainty place with a green and yellow checkered awning. The building was made of yellow brick, and the door was bright green. There were flower pots outside on the windowsill. Again, this place seemed totally out of place in the modern aesthetic of the university. 

“This place is adorable!” Hange exclaimed. “I love the food here. You’ll love it too. They have all kinds of food here.” Levi felt a smile grow on his face. The way she talked made his heart flutter. She was always so passionate. They entered and got a table for two. This is not a date, Levi kept telling himself. Then why were his cheeks red?

They sat down and looked through a menu. Levi wasn’t extremely hungry even though he hadn’t had anything but tea this morning. He peered over his menu to look at the girl. Her hair was different today, he determined. Today all her hair was in a ponytail, and it was higher on her head. She wore a light yellow button-down with a long, light blue cardigan. Hange caught him staring at her and blushed.

“What would you two like to order?” The waitress asked him first.

“I’m gonna get a sandwich, I think,” He said, crossing his arms across his chest. “Turkey sub.” “I think I’m gonna get a chicken caesar salad,” Hange said. He nodded, grabbed the menus, and walked away.

Hange began to talk about how beautiful the flowers outside the restaurant were. They were all variants of pink, purple, yellow, and red. She described the petals and the leaves, the flowers’ origins, and all the meanings of the flowers. Levi wasn’t annoyed by her tangent this time. He actively listened to this girl talk about what fascinated her so much. He found it soothing. It made him wonder how her brain can contain all the information she was spewing at him. He enjoyed watching the way her eyes lit up when she talked. The beautiful green that blossomed at the bottom of her irises when the light hit her eyes at the right angle. The way her lips curled into a big smile when she talked to him. Her cheeks flush to a light pink when she describes the petals of the flowers or how flowers were used to express feelings when words cannot. It made his heart race. 

“Levi,” Hange said. Her affect was the opposite of earlier when she was rambling. She wore a frown on her face, feeling guilty.“I’ve been rambling… sorry. It’s such a bad habit of mine. I can talk for hours and hours.”

“Don’t apologize, four-eyes,” Levi replied, leaning his elbows and forearms on the table in a crossed position. Hange smiled at him. Levi meant it. She shouldn’t apologize for talking, especially if it’s about something she loves. The food had arrived at the table. They ate. Levi felt the need to open up to her about something. He already learned so much about her, and her presence made him feel like he can open up. 

“I like to run,” Levi said abruptly. Hange looked at him intently, chewing on a forkful of salad. “I don’t do it competitively or anything, but I enjoy running. I try to run once or twice a day.” Hange’s eyebrows raised and she nodded in agreement.

“That’s awesome!” She smiled again at him. “I like to run too. I’m really slow and get tired easily, but I enjoy feeling the wind in my hair and feeling my heart pound.” She took a bite of her meal again. Levi nodded and began to eat too. This sandwich was really good.

-

After talking some more about hobbies and school, they both finished their meal. The waiter brought over the check. Hange reached into her pocket for her wallet.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Levi asked. Hange furrowed her brows.

“I invited you out to lunch. I will pay,” Hange determined, her wallet now in her hands.

“No,” Levi said too quickly. “I will pay. It’s the least I can do. You helped me with my paper after all.”

The bickering lasted a very long minute. Before she got to think of the idea, Levi grabbed the checkbook and shoved his card inside before handing it to the waiter. Hange looked surprised. She sighed, putting her wallet away.

“Thank you, Levi. But you really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

In all honesty, Hange didn’t have much money. She worked at that library four times a week, but the money she made went towards paying off her tuition. She really wanted to treat this man, her new friend. She wasn’t sure if he thought the same way about her. Did he consider her his friend? She felt slightly embarrassed. She did most of the talking and felt like she was annoying him. Maybe he just wanted to pay so she would lay off. 

But the truth is, Levi felt the opposite way of how she was thinking. He was interested to hear more from her. He was addicted to the way his heart raced when he saw her. 

-

Over the next couple of days, Levi would go to that library whenever he was available. He knew it was closed on Sunday, so he went Monday and Tuesday to the library. Fortunately, he got his first batch of money from the brats that fried his computer. He received $100. Of course it was not enough, but it was a start. Wednesday the 17th came around. This specific day was a wild card. The weather was unpredictable. Levi entered the library just in time; it had started to downpour. The little bell rang as he entered the library. To his surprise, Hange was not working that day. There was a boy behind the counter who was tall and had a brown bowl cut hairstyle.  He almost thought about turning around and leaving when he realized she wasn’t there. The rain charged towards the earth viciously, so he decided to seek shelter in the small library. It almost looked like a hurricane. He felt his mood change into a bad one. He didn’t remember to ask how often she worked. 

“Hi there!” The man said. His name tag read “Moblit”. That’s a dumb name.

“I wanna use a computer,” Levi muttered, walking up to the main desk.

“Okay. Name?” Moblit grabbed the clipboard and a pen.

“Levi Ackerman.”

“Oh, I see you’ve been here before. A lot, actually.” Levi scoffed and rolled his eyes at his comment. He turned around, picked a computer, and sat down. He felt really stupid to not ask her about her schedule.

The two hours he spent working on his paper was incredibly slow. He didn’t get much done that day. He had writer’s block. He was almost done, so he didn’t worry about it too much. He didn’t know Hange’s schedule. He knew she worked Friday, the day they met; Saturday; Monday, and Tuesday. Maybe she only worked four times a week? Before he knew it, he asked Moblit aloud. It was almost an accident.

“Uh, she’ll be in on Friday,” Moblit replied. He probably couldn’t give out that information to some creep who began visiting daily with an attitude. He muttered a “thanks” before finishing up and heading out. The weather was holding up for now, so he decided to make a run for it. He didn’t say goodbye to Moblit.

He didn’t have an umbrella. The sun was trying to shine through the dark, eerie clouds. It wasn’t trying hard enough. He heard thunder rumbling in the distance.

Levi realized that this girl was all he thought about the past few days. Something about her enticed him. Something about her eyes and her presence drew him towards her. His heart skipped a beat whenever she’d graze his hand on accident, or even when she just talked to him. She made him happy. He hadn’t had too many friends in college. Although they just met last week, he felt a deep connection with her. 

Suddenly, the sun poked through the clouds for a brief moment. The world lit up. It was at that moment he recognized a familiar face. Hange. She was walking towards him. She grinned when she saw him. She wore a fitted black t-shirt and baggy, light blue jeans. 

“Levi!” She exclaimed. “I forgot my jacket in the library, so I came down to get it.” 

“You didn’t tell me you weren’t working today.” Is all Levi said. Once he said it, he realized how creepy it must’ve sounded. A man she just met happens to go to this library to work on his project every day, who happens to come up with multiple reasons to interact with her. Maybe she thought he was a perv.

“Ehh!” She sighed. “I’m sorry! I thought I told you I was off today.” Levi shook his head. The comment itself may have sounded rude, but it wasn’t. She genuinely felt bad. “Walk with me.” Levi followed. Guess not.

“I don’t work Wednesday’s and Thursday’s. Well I’m not supposed to be,” Hange explained. “Mobilt, one of my co-workers, is always calling out sick. So I basically run the place.” They walked towards the library again and entered. 

“Hey, Moblit. How’s it going?” Hange said in a normal tone, heading towards the back of the library. Moblit responded briefly, following Hange. Levi decided to hang back, he figured it was a secure area. He looked around awkwardly.

“Hange, you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend,” Moblit said, following her towards the back. 

Hange chuckled nervously. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said bluntly. “He’s just a friend.” Moblit scoffed, rolling his eyes. “If he’s not your boyfriend, how come his mood entirely changed once he saw you?”

Hange found her jacket, folding it over her forearm. “Huh?”

“He was, like, in a bad mood when he came in. He used the computer but he seemed to be pissed or something. Now that he’s with you, he seems… tolerable.”

Hange laughed, feeling her cheeks blush. “It’s nothing like that. People have bad days, you know.”

Hange rolled her eyes and smirked, then headed towards the front of the library. “Ready?” Levi nodded and turned around.

“See you Friday,” Moblit called out. “See ya.” Hange replied.

The two started walking down the street. The air smelt of rain, and the ground was wet from the rain earlier. “Which building is your dorm in?” Hange asked. He was a bit surprised she asked him that, and she was so direct about it.

“Saint Maria,” He replied. She smiled. “Me too! I can’t believe I haven’t seen you around!” The wind picked up and the sky turned darker than before. They both looked up. “If you can’t make it to the library, you can use my desktop in my dorm room,” Hange offered. Levi’s cheeks turned bright red. 

“Thanks, maybe tomorrow I can stop by,” Levi said. It was more of him thinking aloud than a statement. It was too late though, Hange already heard him. He could’ve sworn he didn’t say it aloud.

“That’s fine! I only have a class early tomorrow morning. Come by around 11, okay? My room number is 506.” Levi nodded. Thunder rolled and sounded closer now. They were almost at the dormitory building when it started to downpour. The rain was forcefully coming down on the two. Levi groaned in annoyance. He hated being in the rain. He hated being wet; he hated the wet socks and how gross he felt when it rained. He would’ve started to run to the building to seek cover, but he was taken aback by his new friend.

She was soaked and embracing it. She lifted her head up to face the sky and she laughed. It was loud, happy, genuine, and it took Levi’s breath away. Hange reached her hands out wide and spun around. He saw a strike of lightning light up the sky. He stared at her in awe. His heart swelled. Levi smiled big. After laughing, Hange looked at Levi and shared the look that he wore just a few moments ago. She loved his smile. She wished to make him smile more. She was also determined to make him laugh, too.

She grabbed his hand. “Let’s take cover!” And she pulled him into the dormitory hall. Saint Maria’s hall was beautiful. It had ceiling-to-floor glass pane windows that were always crystal clear. There was a big black modern chandelier that hung from the ceiling. It contained visible light bulbs. Hange secretly loved it. There were the same big, yellow, leather couches in the living room as there were in the study area on his floor. They both wiped their feet off on the big rug in the entryway. 

“I love the rain,” Hange deduced, turning her head to look at him. As if Levi couldn’t tell. Her hand was still holding his. Levi looked up at her. “I like it, too.”

[jeagerism]

i think im lost again

+ word count : honestly idek, ill take a guess at maybe nearly 700-800?

+ characters : levi ackerman, armin arlert, mentions of eruri and eremin (armin and levi r not shipped fuck out of here)

+ warnings : season 3 attack on titan spoilers, mentions of death, modern!au, levi is basically a dad without being a dad (does that make him a dilf??), angst i suppose

+ summary : erwin was always good at this, levi thinks. people stuck to him like glue.

+ author's note : this is just a personal modern!au headcanon that i ranted to a friend abt and decided to make it full out

in modern aus i see eren as looking up to levi, bc he ooks up to him in the manga in some ways, levi cares abt his wellbeing n shit

well armin, since he was chosen to live over erwin, he'd look up to erwin in a modern au

and when erwin dies in that au bc ofc he has to die, armin is still a teenager.

i like to think that they all lived in the same town as kids, and erwin always looked out for armin since he had no one else other than his friends. 

he basically lets armin live with him when he's not with eren, who also has no family and sort of couch surfs between jean and sasha - sasha's dad loves eren for whatever reason so he stays there a lot, and welcomes armin and mikasa with him - and so erwin and armin r close

and levi is always around, so he sees armin a lot, even if he takes care of eren more - he lets eren stay at is house on nights when he feels like hes overstayed his welcome at sasha’s.

but levi still cares abt armin bc he sees how erwin cares abt armin and levi is in love with the blond facebook dad

but erwin died when armin is like 15, so he still needs someone to look out for him

and erwin asks levi to do that, bc he trusts him and knows levi would take care of him just like he had  

anyways, he asks levi to take care of him and levi does

but armin is a 15 yr old who just lost yet another person who cares abt him 

and even tho hes grateful that levi cares for him, he misses erwin so much. 

he acts out bc of it bc hes a kid going through trauma and its what kids do. he starts acting even worse than eren and eren is a fucking demon spawn

armin and eren share a room, even tho levi had two empty rooms so they could have their own, and eren has stuff in the other room but armin doesn’t like the dark so eren stays there with him.

and levi isn’t really good at taking care of kids in the traditional way. 

he wakes them up every weekday for school by telling them he'll kick their ass if he has to take them himself - but he'll still drive them when it rains or its cold  

he doesnt really know how to cook bc erwin always did that, but his notes app is full of recipes erwin always recommended that were easy to follow bc he was always worried that levi always ate too much cold leftovers from days before and noodles

armin knows hot to cook pretty well bc erwin taught him but he enjoys laughing at levi failing at cooking simple shit - he burned water somehow

but levi still tries so its fine

he tries letting armin know hes welcome, and that he can ask for whatever he needs

he'll leave him lunch money on the counter

and when he notices armins jackets getting a little too short around the wrist he drops a new one by his lap when he sits on the couch

he pulls the blanket all the way to his chin if he falls asleep on the couch.

he'll mention he's going to get a haircut when he notices armin's hair getting longer, and says he can go with him if he wants

but armin still acts so off. 

before erwin was gone, armin always acted happy, even though he never had much, and levi feels guilty knowing he cant do what erwin did for him, but he's doing this for erwin, and knows erwin wouldnt have put armin in his care in the first place if he didn’t trust him

i see taking care of armin as the task that keeps levi going, just like how killing zeke is what keeps him alive in the anime.

both promises he makes to erwin and wont give up on until he’s fulfilled it

but one day armin just disappears. he doesnt come back after school with eren like usual. so he and levi try calling him and get nothing. eren offers to go look for him and levi tells him to stay safe n waits back home to see if armin will show up there

and he does like 5 mins after eren leaves. 

and levi feels his chest just deflate with relief. it was cold outside, and armin was out there alone. 

his cheeks and nose r red from being outside for so long

when levi asks where he's been, it comes out harsher than he meant, but its just bc he was worried, and armin rolls his eyes and asks why it matters

levi tells him its bc he's a kid and doesnt get to just disappear without a trace whenever he wants. levi never minded armin doing whatever he wanted - within regulation - but most times he knew eren was with him, or mikasa, someone who would call him if something happened

and armin says “you're not my father.” and starts taking off his jacket and stuff

“yeah, but i am the person who's taking care of your ass.”

and that seems to make armin a little more ticked off than he already was, bc he turns to levi and says, “well i never asked you to do that.”

to which levi replies without thinking, “no but erwin did”

levi and armin never talk abt erwin, ever.

its like an unspoken rule between them. its not that they arent as comfortable with each other - they arent anyways but - they just dont do that, talk abt how they feel abt erwin, and him being gone

armin looks like hes gonna cry before he just says “well i wish it was erwin that was still here instead of you”

ALMOST AS IF HES SAYING HE WISHED IT WAS LEVI THAT DIED INSTEADDD

and levi is suprised that armin would ever, it hurts a little, and he just nods in agreement and says “me too.”

armin doesnt say anything back to it, he just turns and makes his way to his room, slamming the door behind him

and levi is exhausted. in his head he wonders how erwin had done it - balanced college and a job and a fucking teenager 

but then he remembers that erwin was erwin, and hed always been good at that type of thing

people stuck to him like glue

thats the first night he lets himself admit that he misses him

he feels like he’s failing at the one thing erwin asked of him

when eren shows back up, levi apologizes for not letting him know that armin had came back

but eren just tells him that armin had texted him when he’d arrived - i have a hc that eren and armin were each others first crushes but uhebdbsi

he tells levi that armin had said hed went to the beach

erwin used to take armin to the beach all the time before he died

he’d collect shells with him, and the ones that armin really liked, he’d give them names

he still has one called smith from the last time erwin had taken him to see the ocean

a few weeks go by after that

they never really talked before, but now it seems almost even worse

the silence that they normally exist in feels empty

but everything felt empty without erwin

eren lets levi know where theyre going to be whenever theyre not home, when theyll be home, etc

levi never asked for him to do that, but he does it anyways

levi’s thankful for the near suicidal maniac at that point

even though he always was

he saw a lot of himself in eren, and he sees a lot of himself in armin too

levi and armin never really apologize to each other, but one night when levi’s attempting to cook, armin walks in the kitchen and watches him place things on a pan

“you’re putting them too close together.”

armin steps beside him and tilts his head to the side, as if hes gesturing for levi to move

and he does, letting the younger and taller boy move the prerolled croissants further away from each other on the baking tray

“they never wouldve cooked all the way through like that,” armin tells him

with a scoff, levi mumbles that he sounds like erwin

armin pauses for a second, before sliding the pan in the oven. levi tells him how long the packaging said they went on so that he can set the oven timer

armin sets it for two minutes longer, and levi’s heart aches

erwin did that, too

“i miss him”

it slips out without him meaning for it to

and he thinks he’s ruined armin’s head again, when he’s supposed to be someone this kid can look up to

but he doesnt leave

armin just leans against the oven and nods “me, too”

after that, things arent bad anymore

sure, it takes awhile for them to completely warm up to each other, but they manage

enough that armin sits in on levi’s cooking sessions just to point out what hes doing wrong - something that helps, bc pretty soon levi is learning

he cooks him, armin, and eren an entire meal without burning anything

eren laughs when armin tells him that the man had forgotten to grab an oven mit and had stuck his entire hand in the oven to grab a pan

levi raises his eyebrow when he notices the way armin blushes at eren’s laugh, of all things

and they talk abt erwin more

they have more to say about him that eren, and its just something the two of them share, so they tend to save it for little moments, tiny snippets of things that remind them of the blond

after about a year, things are good

armin asks to have his 17th birthday at the beach, and who would levi be to say no

levi doesnt particularly like the beach, he detests sand, but its for armin, so he’ll do it

its for his kid

him and erwins kid

at the party, he finds a smile coming to his face when he sees armin actually laughing and having fun

kid had been through too much hell at 17, so he deserved to be happy, even if it was only for a few moments

on their way home that evening, eren and armin passed out from a day of swimming and running on the beach - levi made the both of them bring extra towels to save his car seats from salt water and sand

eren’s head is on armin’s shoulder, and the blond’s is resting atop eren’s head

when they get home, the two of them trudge towards their room, but armin turns and holds his closed fist out to levi

with a raised eyebrow, levi holds his hand out and lets armin drop something into his hand, before the boy pivots and continues his shuffle to his and eren’s shared room

levi glances down at the object in his hand

its a shell

armin names it erwin

[nunyabhiznus]

Pearls are not Jewels

Prologue

Chapter 1

Word Count: 10.9K

Warnings: Kidnapping, some cursing, some violence, mentions of sexual harassment (barely). Lmk if I missed anything. 

A/N: Before we begin I want to point out some things about this story. 

First, I know that Star Wars takes place “In a galaxy far, far away” but for the sake of wanting to write a cool, fun story for everyone, lets just assume that Earth is somewhere in the unknown regions. 

Second, because I’m putting Earth in the unknown regions, no one there knows about eveything that’s been going on in the galaxy, and everyone in the galaxy knows very little about Earth. So basically, Earth is exactly the same as it is now except the star wars movies do not exist. Please let me know if this second point makes sense. If it doesnt, I’ll be glad to clear it up. 

Third, this is my first Star Wars fic so I’ll be doing the best I can to keep the information as authentic as possible. Wookiepedia has become my best friend for this project. 

Thank you!

Jules Taxo was on the run. 

This was nothing new for her, though. At any given moment she was either being sought out by republic officials or hunted down by someone who wanted revenge. But she was quick, smart, and deadly so no one could ever catch up to her; an ability that she prides herself in and one she hopes will get her out of her current situation. 

But as she looks out the window through curtains barely parted enough to view the street, she couldn’t help but feel like this time things were different. She had never been chased down by someone this important before. If she wants to get out of this situation alive, she’ll need every part of her plan to work perfectly. 

“Are you sure you want to go through with the procedure?” 

The doctors question pulls her away from the window, her hand dropping the curtains making the room slightly darker than it was before. 

When she faces him, the Rodian sinks into his chair with a fear she knew was not brought on by the change in lighting. 

Normally, Jules would’ve basked in the power trip that her reputation usually took her on, but she knew she was running out of time. Those who were after her would eventually track her to this planet, so she needs to finish what she came here to do and keep moving. 

Digging her hand into her pocket, she threw the doctor a small pouch. Its contents ringing throughout the small room in the universal language of greed. 

“Your payment,” she states, answering his question. “There are extra credits in the bag for your continued discretion.” 

Not that she actually expects it. There was no doubt in her mind that someone with more credits would come along and convince him to release the information. In fact, she was counting on him to eventually give her up for her plan to fully function. 

The doctor peers inside the pouch and seeming satisfied, turns around to activate the nurse droid that would assist him during the procedure.  

He clears his throat, facing her again, “What would you like to have done?” 

Jules takes out a disk from her pocket and activates a hologram. 

“Can your nano droids make me look like her?”

“The complete facial transformation will render you identical,” he says observing the woman in the hologram with curiosity. “I should advise you that it’s a painful process.” 

“Just do it,” She orders and doesn’t wait to be told before laying down on the examination table. 

With a sigh, the doctor nods to the nurse droid who holds Jules down by the shoulders, pressing her down on the table. 

If this worked, she thought with a sick smile forming on her face, they’d never find her. 

A small hiss escapes her lips as the doctor inserts a needle into her neck. At first, she felt nothing, but after a few seconds she began thrashing around the table as the nano droids began to reconstruct her face one fracture at a time. The hold of the nurse droid was the only thing that kept her on the table as she yelled in pain. And then it was over just as soon as it began. 

Her chest heaved up and down as the pain slowly crept away until all she was left with was a dull headache. The doctor slowly hands her a mirror as she sits up and looks  at the unfamiliar face staring back at her. 

The smirk she saw reflected was foreign, belonging to the woman in the hologram. Jules turns her new face side to side and admires the work. 

“Who is she?” The doctor asks, slowly backing away now that his usefulness is over. 

“Oh nobody,” she says coyly. “Just some dead girl from the planet Earth.” 

With those details carefully shared, Jules leaves the doctor to his credits as she wears her new identity through the busy streets. 

Confident that her disguise works, and no one was following her, she returns to her ship and punches in the coordinates to her next location. The last phase of her plan. 

Jules Taxo was heading for Earth. 

 ***

When you can’t open your eyes as soon as you wake up, the first thing you assume is that you’re dead. That the never ending black you see is a dreary afterlife and not your heavy eyelids. 

As feeling starts to come back to your limbs and you’re slowly able to make out blurry shapes in front of you, you realize that you are still very much alive. Your racing heart is a clear indication of that. 

Your legs give out as soon as you try to stand and what little you can make out of the room starts to spin. You rest your hand on your chest, letting your fingers grasp at the necklace hanging around your neck. A subconscious habit you had when you were nervous. It’s then that you realize that your hands are tied together. 

Well, not tied, you sluggishly observe. More like... handcuffed? 

Adrenaline heightens your numbed senses instantly and you realize that you’re in the corner of a dark room. The wall opposite of where you’re sitting has a bunch of strange panels and buttons that give off faint lights, which fail miserably at lighting up the space. Listening closely, you could hear the faint hum of machinery surrounding you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it looked like the inside of a spaceship from a sci-fi movie. 

How did this happen? Taking in deep breaths, you try and piece together the events prior to waking up wherever you were. 

The day had started off just like every other weekday. 

You remember pulling into your jobs parking lot. You were late. Still, you felt you could turn the day around as long as no one noticed you coming in. Ironically enough, you’re wishing for the exact opposite of that right now. Surely somebody had to be wondering where you were. Your thoughts immediately went to your family as you fiddled with the pearl around your neck. What would they think happened to you?

You remember barely getting out of your car when someone grabbed you from behind, holding a hand over your mouth to prevent you from screaming. 

You remember feeling a shock throughout your body. Was it a shock? Stunned was a better word to describe what you felt - like you could no longer control your limbs as your vision went black.

And then you were waking up. 

The sound of voices bring your thoughts to the present. You can’t hear the conversation, only a muffled dialogue, but you can tell that whoever is talking is just beyond the walls of the room. Although you already know you’re wrong, you hope that help will come through those doors when they open anyways. 

There’s a beeping sound coming from the other side and you know that your captors, or saviors (you’re trying to be optimistic), will walk in any second. 

Despite the fear you’ve felt since you woke up, you try to put on a brave face, but as soon as the door slides open the light that floods in the room makes your face scrunch up instead. 

So much for brave, you think as you blink your eyes a couple of times to get them adjusted to the brightness. 

Two men you’ve never seen before were now standing in front of you. You gasp as you take in their appearance that was unlike anything you’ve ever seen. 

They looked like human men if humans had blue skin and white hair. Intricate black tattoos covered every exposed piece of skin, wrapping around their necks and reaching to the ends of their fingertips. Their massive stature did not escape your notice either. Both men were easily at least six feet tall (or taller) and heavily built. They wore all black, but the one on the right was wearing what looked like a long-sleeved leather jacket, while the one on the left wore a vest that allowed you to see more of the tattoos on his arms. Both men were also staring at you with sick grins. 

You were scared before but now you were terrified. What the hell was going on? 

 With the initial shock already wearing off, you realize that staring at them would get you nowhere. Scrambling to stand up, you did your best to not look as intimidated as you felt. 

“Where am I?” You ask, hating how small you sound.

The one wearing the leather jacket took a step forward and you instinctively took a step back. Your back met with the wall and you jump at the contact. Leather Jacket seemed pleased with knowing you were scared of him. 

“You got caught, Jules,” he sneers, his voice a deep sound that cut through the room. 

Wait a minute. 

“Jules?” You question, suddenly more confused than afraid. “My name’s not Jules.”  

“Nice try, doll face, but it’s going to take a lot more than a facial reconstruction to hide from Black Sun,” scoffs the one in the vest. 

You blink back with eyebrows raised. Doll face? 

“Look,” you start, getting closer to them with newfound courage. Where it came from, you had no clue, but you weren’t about to question it. “You‘ve got the wrong person. You have to let me go!” 

“Your little trick isn’t going to work on us,” Vest snaps. “I’ll admit, going to a planet in the unknown regions was impressive, but you’re losing your touch.” 

Leather Jacket smirked down at you and you narrow your eyes at him. 

“Yeah, you were too easy to find,” he shoves your shoulder, effortlessly pushing you back. 

“Don’t touch me!” You hiss. 

This entire ordeal was starting to chip away at your patience. 

“I have no idea what you two are talking about,” you say through gritted teeth. “Let. Me. Go.” 

Neither of them responds, just continue to look down on you with smug expressions. Scoffing, you start to make your way to the door anyways, frustrated in your lack of understanding, but they block your path. 

Standing side by side, the two blue men left no way to get through.

“You’re staying right here.” 

A command, you notice. And a threat. Especially when Leather Jacket turns to Vest and pulls him to the side of the room, leaving the doorway exposed. He clearly wasn’t worried about you making a run for it. And he was right. As taunting an idea as it was, you weren’t dumb enough to try it. They’d catch you before you got one foot out the door. Besides, your hands were still cuffed. 

No. If you wanted to escape, you’d have to do it differently. 

 “Call L-1 over here to watch her while we’re out,” you hear him say before they both walk out of the room, the door sliding shut behind them. Once again, the room was dark. 

You ran to the door then. The two men were still talking, so you put your ear to it to try and hear them better.

“L-1!” Called out Vest. Even though he yelled, you could still barely hear through the steel door. You press your ear harder against it hoping your lack of visuals will encourage your ears to hear better. 

“We’re going out while the ship refuels to get supplies. Stay with the bounty, and don’t let her leave the ship. We’ll be back in a few hours.” 

There was a response, but you couldn’t make it out, either because of the steel barrier or because of their tone of voice. Your brows furrowed. Yet another thing to not understand.

The sound of heavy steps were getting closer to the door and you back away just in time for the door to slide open again. 

At first you think the silhouetted figure is another man, but as the light settles around the room again you stood mouth gaping at another unfamiliar sight. It isn’t a man at all, more a machine. A robot? 

What the hell was happening? 

The robot advances passed the door frame and you quickly back up until you feel the wall pressed behind you, wanting to put as much space between you and it. The way it moved was not slow and clunky like you always imagined a robot would move. This one reminded you of those creepy Claymation movies where everything was always just slightly off. When the robot stops in the middle of the room you let out a shaky breath. Relief filling your senses.

You can’t bring yourself to look away from the robot, afraid that if you did for even a second it would start going towards you again. Its appearance is unnerving. The thing itself was not much taller than you and it was noticeable how some of its dull yellow paint was chipping off its metal exterior. It’s the headpiece that keeps you locked in place. Through a dark opening in its head, two orange, lifeless lights stare back at you. 

Your thoughts were racing almost as fast as your heart. “What are you?” 

“I am L-1,” it says in a low robotic voice.

“A general service droid,” it adds for clarification. 

“Not a guard or a bounty hunter droid as they seem to think.” 

Was that sarcasm? 

“But that doesn’t mean you can try anything, Ms. Taxo.” L-1 brought up a small gun and you flinch. “I can still stun you with my blaster.” 

              A dangerous idea starts to form in your head. Now that the two men were gone, you figure that you’d have a better chance at escaping with only the droid guarding you. L-1 said it himself, he wasn’t even a guard droid. Time to see if you could outsmart a machine. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you blurt out trying to look at L-1’s face instead of the gun (or did he call it a blaster?) he kept pointed at you. 

“That is none of my concern,” L-1 responds sharply. 

“Well,” you start to say, forcing yourself to be more confident. “If I don’t go to the bathroom soon, I’ll end up soiling myself.” You sigh dramatically and add a shrug for good measure. 

“I don’t think they’ll be too happy to see that when they come back.” 

“No... They won’t,” L-1 agrees, though you could hear it was quite forced. You need to say more. 

“And they’d blame you for the mess,” you quickly add. “Might even shut you down.” You hope that was a thing that happened to robots and not just something you pulled out of your ass. 

“Maker! You’re right!” L-1 exclaims. “I’ll be deactivated because of you!” 

L-1 quickly lowers the blaster gun and grabs your cuffs, all but dragging you out of the room by them. 

“There’s a lavatory on board the ship,” he says while you struggle to keep up with his quick strides. “I’ll never understand you organics! How many bodily functions do you even need? It’s not very efficient at all!” 

When you reach another set of doors, L-1 let go of your cuffs and points the blaster gun at you again. 

“Get your business done quickly,” he orders. “We have to return to the other room.” 

You try your best to make an innocent face as you hold up your cuffed hands. 

“I can’t go to the bathroom with these things on.” 

“I cannot remove them,” he states. “You will try and escape if I do.” 

“I can’t!” You point out. “You’re guarding the door. Plus, you have a blaster, and I don’t. You can just take these cuffs off, I can go to the bathroom, and then put them back on when I’m done.” 

His silence was eerie, emphasizing the fact that you have no way of knowing what was going on behind the metal exterior. Did he realize what you were doing? 

“After that, we’ll walk back to the room and it’ll be like none of this ever happened.” 

L-1 lowers the blaster again and uncuffs your wrists. Yes! You try your best to hide your excitement. The door to the bathroom slid open and closes again once you step inside. 

“Don’t take too long!” L-1 orders through the door. 

“I won’t!” You respond, rubbing your wrists where the cuffs had irritated your skin. 

Okay . . . Now what?

You take a second you don’t have to process everything that’s happened. The pieces of information you have don’t make any sense to you but they’re all you have to go on. So far, you are certain of three things: 

First, everyone thought you were some lady named Jules Taxo. 

You gather she is not very popular. Vest had referred to you as a bounty before. You got a sick feeling in your stomach. They want to sell you? Or rather, sell Jules but they thought she was you? You were getting a headache trying to wrap your brain around the situation you were in. 

Second, you think you were abducted by aliens.

The idea sounds farfetched, even to you, but those guys were blue. BLUE! And they mentioned something about Jules going to a different planet - was she also an alien? Anyways, there was also the way that L-1 called your location a ship. Even with your lack of understanding you realize this place  looks more technologically advanced than anything you’d ever seen on Earth. 

And third, robots were real. (You remember it called itself a droid) 

And not very smart. And the one you just met was waiting for you outside the door. 

Right. Back to business. 

You couldn’t bust through the door and hope to fight against the droid. Even without the restriction of your cuffs, it had a gun. There goes plan A. 

Okay, plan B. Was there another door? You frantically start to look around. There’s nothing else in the room except a strange looking tube seat you assume is the toilet. No other doors. 

But there is a vent above you. Plan C! And it looks large enough for you to fit through. You stand on the tube seat and do your best to move the railings without making any noise. You thank God when you see it isn’t bolted to the ceiling and easily slides off. You’ll have to jump in order to create enough of a boost to hoist yourself up. Bending your knees, you get a feel for the movement. 

Okay. You took a deep breath. 3 . . . 2 . . . 

“Are you almost done?!” L-1’s annoyed voice yells through the door. 

You nearly lose your balance on the seat as you curse, and your hands fly out to steady yourself with the walls. You almost forgot about the droid. 

“Just another minute!” You respond, keeping your voice as calm as possible. “I can’t go if you keep pressuring me!” 

You don’t try to listen for his response, but you know he mumbled something. Forgetting the countdown, the renewed sense of urgency gives you all the preparation you need to jump up and reach for the vent. Although it’s not much, you use all your upper body strength to haul yourself up to the vent system. Once your torso is inside, you shimmy the rest of your body in as well.

Looking ahead, the ships vent system looks like a small tunnel. You quickly start to crawl through the vent, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep up your trick the next time L-1 said something. Finding a way out was your main objective as you navigate through the maze of vents. You have no idea where you are going but you try your best keep quiet and increase the distance between you and the droid. 

In one of your turns, you see the vents getting more illuminated. Following the light, you nearly start crying when you see the end of the vent. Through the railing, you could see that it led outside. Kicking the vent out,  you throw yourself out of the ship. 

When you land on the ground, the impact on your knees was felt strongly and you grit your teeth in pain. You gasp at your surroundings, forgetting all about your discomfort.  Spaceships of varying sizes were all around, lined up in neat stations where they were plugged in to large towers.

You can sight see later! Run!

Shaking your head, you start to run for it in the opposite direction of the ship you just escaped from. Something in the back of your mind was reminding you that you have no clue where you are, or where you’re going, but all you care about is getting as far away from that ship as possible. You never want to see it again. 

You run until your lungs burn and your legs feel like jelly. The ship station was far behind you now but since you could still see it in the distance, it was still too close for comfort. Ahead of you, strange clay brown buildings stand against the surrounding dessert terrain. There’s nowhere else to go so you ignore your screaming legs and keep running towards it. 

Two of the large clay buildings make a sort of entrance gate to a city bustling with movement behind them. You thought you were incapable of being surprised anymore, yet you were proved wrong when you stumble into the middle of an active marketplace. You stand frozen in the middle of the street, watching with wide eyes the many booths and stands around you. 

You were baffled by the number of new things you were seeing. The stands were selling strange objects and foods you couldn’t begin to describe. All around you strange creatures, each one more different than the last, visited the booths and exchanged goods. You even saw more droids walking among them. 

Too astonished to even notice, you are unaware of how in the way you are of everything and how much you stick out like a sore thumb. Every so often, an alien bumps into you and glares. Probably wondering why, you, a lone woman in strange clothes, stopped to stand in the middle of a busy street. It wasn’t until one of them had begun to yell at you in a language you didn’t understand that you snap out of it. 

You shake your head and stutter out an apology before quickly moving around him and further down the marketplace. It seemed to go on for miles as unfamiliar sights, sounds, and smells add to your confusion. Everything around you blurs together in a mess of too many new experiences. Stand vendors would go up to you and shove products in your face, trying to convince you to buy them, and the crowds would push you further along the market before you even had a chance to decline. It was exhausting and disorienting. 

When you finally stagger to the end of the market, forcing all of its commotion behind you, you were able to round the corner of a nearby building into an abandoned alleyway. Leaning against its wall, you catch your breath and struggle to even out your frantic breathing. 

There was no time to freak out. You remind yourself that there are still people after you. No. After Jules. 

With no bearings and nothing but the clothes on your back, you figure that if you let yourself freak out now, you’d never make it. 

Somehow, you’d have to get as far away from them as possible. And possibly even harder, find a way back home

 ***

 Din Djarin had never gotten along with Jules Taxo.

He thought her extremely unpleasant, a trait most bounty hunters typically shared. She was rude. Undisciplined. Dishonest. Cunning and smart as a whip, he'll admit, but dangerous.

Jules had been one of the many hunters who had tried to take the kid away from him when he first found him on Arvala-7. She put up an impressive fight, and in the end managed to escape alive. Something that could not be said for the majority of those he encountered.

So, when Greef Karga told him of the large bounty on her head, he did not hesitate to accept it. He had a score to settle. Not only for himself, but for Grogu.

"Black Sun is offering a heavy sum for bringing her in alive," he tells him.

Beside him, Grogu takes sips from a soup bowl and watches the two men curiously.

Karga points at him, "You sure you want to bring the kid with you on this one? Taxo won't play fair if she sees him. Why not leave him here with us? He could stay at the school."

"The kid goes wherever I go," Din responds, leaving to room for discussion. After everything that's happened, the only place he felt Grogu was safe was at his side.

Nodding in understanding, Karga leads the conversation back to business.

"There's no puck," he explains. "Do you still want it?"

Din nods, "What do I have to go on?"

"A last known location and a picture," Karga says as he began to dig through his jacket pocket. "This is what I know. Taxo ran off to some planet in the unknown regions to escape Black Sun. There, she was caught and taken to Klatooine where she escaped them a few days ago. That's where she was last reported."

"Taxo got caught?" Din was unable to hide his surprise. Everyone in the galaxy who knew of Jules's reputation would've had a hard time believing it. "By who?"

Karga sighs, "The Gotros brothers."

"Them?!" They couldn't catch a bantha if it were right in front of them. "How?"

"Ah!" the magistrate exclaims, pulling a disk out of his pocket. "Here it is!"

 When he set it on the table, a holographic image shows a picture of a woman he has never seen before. And he was sure he'd remember a face like hers. The sound of Grogu's coos pulls his eyes away from the hologram, instead focusing on how his small, green hands stretch out to reach for the image. He likes the look of her too.

"She's beautiful, right?" Karga asks rhetorically, not giving him time to answer before continuing. "This is Jules' new face. The doctor who did the reconstruction told the Gotros brothers where she was headed. I guess she didn't count on his loose lips."

He scolds himself for getting momentarily distracted with Jules' reconstruction. Din extends his arm towards Grogu when he hears him coo again, and gently pulls his hands away from the hologram. He forces himself to find a flaw in her picture, but he can’t find any. Instead, resolving to compare her to the way that some flowers were poisonous despite their alluring appearance.

"Why did they take her to Klatooine?" he asks Karga.

"They stopped there to refuel," he laughs. "Apparently, they left her alone with a droid and that's how she escaped."

"That's it?"

"That's all I've got. Look Mando, a lot of bounty hunters are going to be after her when they catch wind of how much Black Sun will pay for her. I suggest you leave as soon as possible before she finds her way off that desert rock."

Din nods, setting Grogu back in his floating pram.

"Thank you," he tells his friend, before walking away and towards the Razor Crest.

"Looks like we're headed to Klatooine, kid."

 ***

 Two days have gone by since you escaped the ship.

Two of the most frustrating days you've ever experienced in your entire life. For the remainder of your first day there, you spent the entire time in the alleyway. Too afraid to go out in the open in case they saw you. You barely slept that night either.

Basic survival instinct and years of living as a woman on Earth nagged at your decision to remain in a secluded space, alone in the dark. You couldn't be bothered, though, as exhaustion crept through your bones. You silently prayed for a break which you received. No one came into the alleyway that night.

The following day, you decided to carefully explore the city you were in. Turns out, your curiosity for the alien planet overpowered your fear. Being the fast learner that you were, two things became abundantly clear:

First, there was an obvious language barrier.

You could not read a single thing on this planet. No matter where you went, the written language was made up of strange symbols that were unfamiliar to you. Thankfully, some of the inhabitants spoke English, which you discovered they called ‘basic', so at least you weren't completely lost.

Second, you were broke.

Their monetary system made no sense to you. ‘Credits’, as they were called, were something you did not have. Something that became abundantly clear the longer you went without food.

In spite of those things, you found yourself marveling at all of the new sights around you – the same ones that had sent you spiraling the day before. You felt alive walking through the foreign city as each step presented an opportunity to learn something else about the strange planet. Everything around you, from the alien creatures to the unfamiliar music to the clothing everyone wore, reminded you of how different it was from Earth. Different, but still beautiful.

The constant threat of being found remained in the back of your mind at all times as you wove through the unfamiliar streets, careful not to stray too far from the market. However, you must've been doing something right because you had yet to run into the blue men again. It made you wonder if they were either really bad at hunting people, or if you were just naturally good at evading your captors. You doubted it was the latter.

Halfway through that day, you realized that hiding your face would be the best course of action. You needed a face covering and had to find a way to get one without any money.

The day the blue men captured you on Earth, the weather channel had forecasted a cold front, so you left your apartment wearing a coat. One you were currently carrying around on the hot planet you were wandering through. It was your favorite one.

You sighed as you walked up to a market vendor who sold a variety of products.

"Hello?" you greeted, hoping the man spoke the only language you understood. Although he didn’t say anything, he looked up at you when you spoke, so you took that as a sign to keep going.

"I don't have any money," you started. God, you sounded pathetic. "But I have this coat. Would I be able to trade it for anything here that would cover my face?"

The man held out his hand for the coat and you handed it to him. He immediately held it up and began inspecting its quality. You furrowed your brows. Even with everything you've been through, the coat was still a hell of a lot cleaner than anything else he was selling. You decided not to voice that thought, though. Instead, choosing to bite your tongue.

"This coat can't get you any of the helmets,"' he said in a gruff voice. "But I can trade you a cloak for it. It has a large hood."  

You reluctantly nodded and he handed you a black cloak. As you were putting it on, he pointed at your necklace.

"That's a fine piece of jewelry you got there. If you give it to me, I'll throw in the best helmet I've got."

He held up a strange looking device for you to see.

"It's an Ubese raider helmet," he began to explain. "Not only does it hide your face, but the speech scrambler can mask your voice."

You looked at the helmet longingly. That thing was exactly what you needed. Your fingers danced around the pearl above your heart. Suddenly, it weighed a thousand pounds.

It was the only real reminder you had of your family back on Earth. If you ended up never seeing them again, this would be all you had left of them.

"No, thank you," you said, shaking your head. "It's not for sale."

Leaving it at that, you threw up the hood and kept walking. The cloak would have to do.

That night you couldn't sleep either, but it wasn't for a lack of trying. Curled up in the corner of the alleyway, your new cloak blending you into the night, your constant hunger pains kept you up. You hadn't eaten anything in two days, and it was starting to show.

Now, you stumble around the city, hoping to maybe trade off your shoes for a bite of anything to eat - You were that desperate, when you hear something strange coming from behind a building nearby. Carefully, you creep over to investigate, a gut feeling telling you that finding out would be better than ignoring it.

When you round the corner, you see a tall burley man cornering an alien woman. From the looks if it, she was trying to shove him off, but he was too strong for her.

You desperately look around, trying to find a way to help her. Your gaze lands on a large metal pipe on the ground and you quickly grab it.

You huff when the weight of it settles in your hand. This thing weighs a ton! Even at your most physically fit, you doubted you’d be able to carry it with ease. And you weren't exactly the picture of health at the moment.

You ignore that thought, focusing on helping the alien woman. Silently, you get behind the man. With his back to you, and his mind preoccupied with the woman, he hadn't heard you come closer. With as much strength as you can muster, you raise the metal pipe and swing it at the man’s head. It collides and the sick sound of bone crunching rings through the air as he falls to the floor. Unconscious or dead, it doesn't really matter to you.

The alien woman gasps and keeps staring back and forth between you, the unconscious man, and the metal pipe in your hand.

Your vision starts to get spotty. Clearly, you used up the little energy you had in you on this little rescue mission.

"You're welcome," was all you managed to slur out before the pipe fell out of your grip and you fell to the ground as well. Unconscious or dead, you didn’t really know.

 ***

 When you wake up, you figure that you're dead.

That the soft light coming in is heaven and you're laying on a cloud.

"You're awake," you hear a woman’s' voice say somewhere near you.

As you fully regain consciousness, you find out with great disappointment that the cloud you were on was actually a bed and the light was coming from a nearby window. Your eyes land on the woman in front of you, the same one from before, who was sitting at the edge of your bed with a blaster pointed at you. She was a species that you observed was one of the more human-like. Her skin was a light pink color, and instead of hair, she had two long appendages that sat on the top of her head. Sitting up, you held your hands up in surrender, hoping to explain yourself but she beat you to it.

"You're Jules Taxo," she spit out. Oh, great! This again?

You start to shake your head, "N-No, no, you don't -"

"Don't bother denying it," she interrupts. "I saw your wanted hologram in the cantina."

You open your mouth to speak again but she cuts you off this time too.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to turn you in," she says lowering her gun. "You helped me out back there, so I owe you one, but I don't want any of your trouble."

You let out a breath of relief, "Thank you."

             "You can stay here for the night," she adds. "I can give you some food too, you look like you haven't eaten in days."  Your mouth waters at the sound of a meal.

"But you'll need to leave in the morning, Jules. Like I said, I don’t want trouble."

"Thank you so much," you say with a heavy sigh. "I appreciate everything you're doing for me, believe me, I do. But I am not Jules Taxo, so please don't call me that."

"What do you mean?" she questions so you explain your situation to her, thankful to finally have someone to talk to about it.

She listens carefully to all you have to say. Who you really were, how you were caught, and how you ended up wandering alone on a planet you never knew existed. You honestly couldn’t tell if she believed you or not, but it felt good to have someone listen to you after days of being on your own.

"You don't have to worry, I'll be out in the morning," you add when you’re done. "I just have no idea what to do after that."

"You need to find a pilot to take you to one of the Inner Rim planets," she says with a forlorn expression. "New republic officers will be able to help you better there."

"So, you believe me?" you ask, feeling hope sprout in your chest.

"I do," she nods, smiling at you. "My name is Krin, by the way."

"Thank you, Krin."

"You’re welcome, but I'm not the ones you have you convince."

"Right," you say, sitting up straighter. "So how do I get a pilot?"

"With credits," she sighs. "More than either of us have. Trust me, I've been saving up to move to the inner rim for years and am not even close to saving up for what these crooks around here will charge you for taking you there."

"I don't have any credits," you mumble more to yourself than to her.

The two of you drop the conversation there, choosing to eat dinner together instead. You follow her to the kitchen where Krin offers you a green soup that you graciously scarf down. It was bland, and didn't taste like much but in that moment, it became your favorite food.

After dinner, Krin told you about her life. How she spent her whole life on Klatooine (the planet you were on), and how her dream was to move to one of the inner rim planets and be a professional dancer. She told you about the war and the Empire, and how they brought destruction across the galaxy.

It amazed you to find out these things. So much was happening outside of Earth that nobody even knew about. Wars were waged, entire planets were being destroyed, millions of people died. And nobody knew about it.

"What do you know about Jules?" Krin asks you, bringing you back to the conversation at hand.

"Nothing. Except that everyone hates her, apparently."

"She's a famous bounty hunter," she told you. "Someone who hunts down people for money. Those guys are always loaded with credits."

Instantly her eyes lit up with an understanding that you did not share. You raise an eyebrow at her.

"I have an idea for how to get us a pilot!" Krin all but shouts at you.

"How? You said we couldn't afford one."

"But Jules can!" She looks at you expectantly, but you still do not understand.

"You said she stole your face, right? Well, automated bank teller machines work through facial recognition, and I'm willing to bet she updated her security before she went into hiding. If you used one of those machines, you'd have access to all of her credits. We could use them to get off world!"

You could barely believe it. "Would that actually work?"

"As long as she updated the security to her new face - your face, it should," she says. "The only problem is that it would probably also alert those who are looking for you."

"So, if we wanted to do this, it would have to be quick," you confirm.

"Yes."

"Okay," you declare. "We'll go tomorrow."

  ***

 The last thing he expected from this job was for it to be easy.

Din expected a challenge. With no tracking fob and only a location from a few days ago to go on, he assumed it would take him at least a couple of days to find which part of Klatooine she was on. His confusion could not have been more evident when he got a signal from a specific pinpoint location where she used facial recognition to extract credits.

He now had her exact coordinates. If fact, any bounty hunter in the system looking for her would have them now too. Was she trying to attract attention to herself? If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was being sloppy on purpose.

Landing the Crest outside of the city that contained her coordinates, he wastes no time in navigating through the busy streets towards a bar. Everyone in his line of work knew that if you ever needed information on something illegal, a bar was the best place to go to.  

He keeps Grogu’s pram open while walking through the bustling market, careful to not let anyone steal what he worked so hard to keep, but at the same time glad to see the child beam at the exciting, new surroundings. As he moves down the street, everyone turns their heads to stare at him, clearly not used to seeing a Mandalorian. If he got too close, they would back away, unintentionally clearing a path for him. This was nothing new for him. In the beginning, the stares would make him feel raw and exposed despite the piles of beskar protecting him. Now, they were like grains of sand in the wind. Only a mild inconvenience to him.

When he reaches the bar, all activity stops for a moment. Again, he was the center of attention.

He stands still until everyone inside decides they had their fill of his image, turning back to their drinks and conversations. Din walks over to the bartender.

"What will you having?" the man asks him. As if he could accept.

             "Information," he chose, and slid the bartender a couple of credits.

"What do you know about Jules Taxo," Din asks showing the man her holographic picture. He ignores the happy noise the child makes at it as he continues his questioning. "My sources say she's somewhere on this planet."

"I heard rumors she was on Klatooine," he says rubbing his chin. "But I've never seen her walk in here." he points to the picture.

"Is that all you know?" Din already knew this answer.  

"For the amount of credits you just gave me? Yes."  

His jaw clenches as he hands the man more credits.

             "Ah! I remember now," he continues, pocketing his win. "This morning a lady wearing a Ubese raider helmet, which she was very adamant on keeping on, paid a local pilot an absurd amount of credits to take her and her Twi'lek friend off world."

"Do you know where they went?" Din presses, already tired of haggling for information.

"They wanted to get to the inner rim. The pilot could only take them as far as Pasaana, but they agreed to go anyways. That's all I know."

Din mulls over the information in his mind as the bartender left to go tend to the other customers. What would a bounty hunter like Jules want in the inner rim? Did she think she could hide better there? His instincts told him that there was something off about the whole situation, but he chose to ignore the feeling as he made his way back to the Razor Crest.

He would capture Jules in Pasaana.

 ***

 You and Krin moved fast. By the end of the day, you two had already made it off world and were on your way to Pasaana.

She had been right about the credits, and after obtaining them, the first thing you did was go back to the vendor who you got your cloak from and properly paid for the helmet he showed you that day. Since then, you hadn’t taken it off and while it wasn’t the most comfortable accessory you’d ever worn, you preferred it to feeling so exposed. The helmet had more features than you knew what to do with, all of which would have been useful for whatever raiding it was designed for, but you only cared for the voice scrambler.

Krin also convinced you to buy some blasters for your protection. Even though you had no idea how to use it, you felt better knowing you had a for-emergencies-only weapon strapped to your hip. Hopefully, you’d never have to use it.

The trip to Pasaana had been nerve wrecking. The first time you flew through space you had been unconscious, so you didn’t really count it. This time, you’re fully aware of every little movement and drop in altitude as your hands grip your seat with such a force that it turns your knuckles white. It reminds you of being on an airplane and how you were never one for air travel to begin with. Even after the ship stops shaking as it enters hyperspace (a concept you could barely wrap your head around), and everyone was allowed to roam around you still stay glued to your seat.

             “You must not have much space travel on Earth, huh,” Krin teases.

             “We don’t have any,” you say, trying to keep your voice level in spite of the helmet’s delivery of your voice.

             “That thing makes you sound like a broken droid.”

She wasn’t wrong. The scrambler on the helmet dropped your voice by a couple of octaves and made the sound coarse and choppy.

Much to Krin’s disappointment, Pasaana was another desert planet. You on the other hand can’t find a reason to complain. How many people back home get to go to different planets? None! That thought makes you feel incredibly small.

Besides, Pasaana serves its purpose just fine. It got you away from Klatooine, which was where everyone thought Jules was going to be.

You only wish you could help more. Krin does all the work for both of you, seeing as she knows the languages and monetary system, and you can barely keep her in your line of sight as the new surroundings tempt you into distraction. You cringe at your position, lagging behind like a shadow and hovering around her conversation with the next group of pilots she found to take you to an inner rim planet. You feel like you’re watching a foreign movie without subtitles with enough context to follow the plot but not enough understanding to catch the finer details. When she nods at you, though, you immediately know what she wants, not needing to know the language to understand that nothing is done for free. So, you dig the pouch of Jules’ credits out of your pocket and set it down in front of her where she carefully pulls out the right amount and promptly gives it back to you for safekeeping.

They told Krin to meet them in the shipyard tomorrow morning, until then, you had the entire rest of the day to yourselves.

             You both agree on finding an inn to spend the night in and seeing as you have so much time on your hands, you see no harm in ignoring the looming threat of the situation to go spend time in the city before you do. While Klatooine’s arid streets had been full of impatient characters and hard stares, Pasaana’s warm sand welcomes you both with a peaceful energy.

Its markets are different – calmer and more relaxed, giving anyone who walked through them the opportunity to enjoy themselves. You and Krin take advantage of this change of pace, making stops at every stand to see what each have to offer.

             “I’m starving!” she says, pointing somewhere down the street. “That vendor’s selling something that smells amazing! Let’s go!”

Once there, she buys something (which to you, looks an awful lot like a charred squirrel) that’s skewered on a stick. You opt for a fruit instead, its shape roughly resembling a pare with a dark orange color. You’re about to take off your helmet to bite into it when a figure in the distance catches your eye by how much it stands out. At first you think it’s a droid by how its’ shine contrasts against the earth tones of the market, but as it moves through the crowds you realize it carries itself with aura all to powerful to be anything but a man. Its armor, you realize and as if he heard your thoughts, his helmet moves to your direction and stills.

With his helmet on you can’t tell if he’s actually looking at you or not, and you hope that yours offers you that same privilege. The armored man does not look away from you, his stare only making your blood run colder with every second he holds it. You look away first, and its childish the way you feel like you lost.

             “Let’s keep moving,” you tell Krin, fruit forgotten as you herd her further along your path, no longer able to keep putting off the reality of your situation. “We need to find an inn, it’s getting late.”

She protests but you push her along anyways, your paranoia heightening every time you realize that the armored man is still close no matter how many twists and turns you make through the stands.

Krin shouts your name and pulls you to a stop.

             “What’s gotten into you?” she gasps, out of breath. “You’re going to tear my arm off if you keep dragging me around like this.”

             “Someone’s following us,” you let her know, nodding in the armored mans’ direction to see him moving your way.

             Krins’ eyes widen and now it’s her who’s pushing you to move, “RUN!”

You don’t think twice as you break off into a sprint. You’re pushing past the crowds and somewhere along the way you realize that Krin is no longer next to you. You frantically look around, only to find the armored man still hot on your trail. You only pray that you'll find her again eventually as you continue running.

You keep this up until you reach a dead end where the unused carts of the market are piled up high. If you could climb those, then maybe -

The sound of slowing footsteps behind you makes you spin. The armored man stands a few yards ahead of you, effectively cornering you like a runaway animal. Internally you’re screaming at yourself for allowing yourself to be chased into this position. You should have just gone to the inn to begin with.

The both of you stare at each other again much like before. This time, there is no question of who his gaze is directed to. For a moment, its quiet and the only thing you can hear is your heavy breathing amplified by your helmet. Can he hear it too?

Against the setting sun, his unmoving frame looks like a grand metal statue. The rich colors of the sky are beautifully reflected on his armor. If he weren’t trying to kill you, you’d say he looks like a knight from a fantasy.

You snap out of it and remember that you’re really in a nightmare. How were you going to get out of this one? The armored mans’ hand was hovering around something on his waist – his own blaster probably, prepared in case you were going to use yours – as if you could miraculously learn how to use it before he shot you down. You contemplate the probability of that scenario, but you doubt you would win a shoot out with this space cowboy.

             “Jules Taxo,” he says loudly, the surprise of the sudden words making you jump. The voice is low, and it seems to shake the ground below you.

You don’t respond, only backing up, hoping to inch closer to the pile of carts. When you first saw them, it was hard to see how high up they went, but you hope that it was high enough to jump onto the nearby roof building. That is, if he doesn’t shoot first.

“I can bring you in warm,” he starts, moving closer with every step you back away. “Or I can bring you in cold.”

             “What the f-,” you whisper, biting back the curse and horrified at the threat. You stop your movements when your back touches the carts. The armored man stops advancing too, waiting for you to make the first move. It’s now or never.

You turn around and start to scale the pile of carts as fast as you possibly can. It’s clumsy and you probably look ridiculous, but you figure its better than being “brought in cold” refusing to even think about what that meant. You start to believe that maybe this sudden plan was actually going to work, but all of your thoughts stop cold when you feel a tight grip around your ankle trying to pull you down. You let yourself curse then, doing your best to grip the cart you’re on to resist him. You thought your slight head start would keep him out of reach. Evidently, you were wrong.

Your mind is ten steps ahead of your actions, trying to take in any detail that could get you out of this. The first thing you think of is his metal armor, so you latch on to that thought and let yet another desperate plan form. You seem to be doing a lot of those lately.

The armor should be heavy if it's made of metal, you think. His grip on your foot is too strong, and the more you kick, the more you risk losing you footing. But you have the high ground and maybe, if you let go and fell just right, you'd be able to use the weight of his own armor against him in the fall. That might buy you a few seconds to run away again.

You let go of the cart and let yourself fall on the armored man. Your plan works. In his surprise, he let go of your ankle and you both fall back to the hard ground. You land on him harshly and hear him groan as the weight of himself catches up to him. You scramble to get off of him, doing your best to ignore how much your head is pounding with how hard you fell. The man did nothing to soften the landing.

Before you can get too far, the armored man, still on the ground, extends his arm out blindly to grab at you. His heavy hand reaches for your helmet hoping to pin you down, but he misses and instead finds a hold on the gold chain around your neck. You feel a sting as it’s snapped off.

             “My necklace!” you gasp, the voice scrambler failing to hide your panic.

You’re both standing now, opposite of how you were earlier. His back is to the carts while yours faces the streets, and while he’s cornered and you have the chance to run away, all you can think about is the necklace that’s dangling from his fist. There’s a heavy pause in the air as no one moves. The armored man looks at the necklace in his hand and then back to you. Your hands flex, itching to grab it from him but you know that if you get close you won’t be able to escape him again.

He starts to move again, and you break out into a run. You’re sure he’s about to reach you any second now when you hear a high-pitched noise come from somewhere in front of you. A flash of bright blue zooms passed your face, and you fall to the ground. It barely missed you and you breath in gulps of air to calm yourself.

You lift your head up from the ground when you hear a familiar voice call your name. Krin!

             “Come on!” she says when she’s close enough to pull you off the floor. “We have to get out of here before he wakes up.”

Sure enough, when you look back, the armored man is an unconscious heap on the sandy ground. You don’t bother to wonder how long he’ll stay that way before you and Krin race away to an inn.

When you arrive, your thoughts are either nonexistent or too slow to register. Probably a survival mechanism to keep you from freaking out. You’re barely able to catch the conversation Krin has with the innkeeper or realize you’re walking to a room. It’s when she locks the door and shuts the blinds that you’re able to tune back in.

“You never told me the people after you were Mandalorians!” she exclaims, pacing around the room.

“I don’t even know what a Mandalorian is!” you say, ripping off the helmet in frustration. “I’ve never seen him before! He wasn’t part of the group that captured me on Klatooine.”

Your hand inches towards your neck and you cringe at the absence of your necklace. You forgot to go back for it, you remember.

             “Mandalorians are a race of crazy warrior people,” she sighs, sitting on the bed with her head in her hands. “If one is after us, then we’re as good as dead.”

The Mandalorian is not after her, you think dully. Its after you. Guilt weighs down on you like a heavy blanket. Because of you, Krin could get killed when she’s done nothing but help you survive. She didn’t deserve this.

“That stun better keep him down long enough for us to leave the planet. Hopefully, we can lose him.”

You acknowledge her comment with a hum, knowing well enough that you weren’t going to leave this planet together anymore.

 ***

               Neither one of you slept as much as you should have last night, and despite her cheery disposition when she nears the ship you’re both supposed to get on, you can tell that Krin is incredibly tired. You are too, but the anxiety of what you’re about to do keeps you from fully admitting it.

As she starts to board, you grab her arm forcing her to stop moving. She turns, giving you a confused look.

             “I’m not going with you,” you say directly.

“What?” She questions, yanking her arm from your grasp. “What are you talking about? Why?”

“These people are after me, not you,” you explain. “You’ve helped me get this far and for that I’ll always be thankful for, but I’m putting you in danger and can’t let you risk your life for me anymore.”

“No! Y-“

You place a bag in her hands, cutting off her protests. “Half of her credits are in here. Take them and start a new life in the inner rim like you wanted.”

“But what about you?” She asks and you can start to see tears forming in her eyes.

You blink back your own, thankful that you can at least hide yours behind the helmet. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping the other half of the credits.”

“I meant, what are you going to do?”

You pull her in for a hug which she returns with a tight squeeze. “I’ll be okay,” you tell her, hoping that you didn’t just lie to her. “I hope we see each other again.”

             Krin laughs through a small sob, “And under different circumstances.”

             “Thank you,” you tell her before pulling away, leaving the shipyard behind you.

You walk back to the city, head held high with determination forcing your steps, well aware that a certain armored man has been following you all morning.

 ***

               Din forgot all about the Twi’lek companion.

That’s the first thought he has when he wakes up, groaning at the discomfort he feels when he’s able to stand. It’s been a while since he’s been stunned.

His second thought is more of an instinct as he looks around for the child’s floating pram. Much to his relief, and generous luck, it’s still next to him closed and protected. He pushes a button on his vambrace, opening the pram which reveals Grogu’s furrowed face. He lets out annoyed whines that Din assumes are from being shut in for as long as he’s been unconscious.

             “I know, kid. I’m sorry,” he says, rubbing one of the child’s ears. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

Small complaints are replaced with distracted joyful noises as the child reaches out to the dangling object he didn't even notice he was still holding.

Din inspects Jules' necklace further, a delicate gold chain with a single pearl dangling from it. He remembers the way she froze when he took it from her. The way it seemed like parting from it was almost as much of a struggle as it was running away from him.

Not for the first time he finds himself thinking that this entire job has been strange. Jules had been easy to find in Pasaana as well. It wasn't hard to track the ships coming in from Klatooine and spotting her in the market crowd had been a simple task - her pink partner drastically stood out and not many people wore Ubese helmets while parading around a market. It was like she wasn't even trying to hide.

He also remembers her putting up a better fight the last time he ran into her. Why hadn't she used her blaster? Jules all but used him for target practice last time, and he was fully prepared for a shootout to occur. He even closed the child’s pram beforehand so he wouldn't accidentally get caught in the crossfire.

So why did she choose to climb the carts? It made no sense! She had to know that she couldn't have gotten far like that.

She was buying time for her partner, he reasons, trying to not to overthink. She's not stupid. She was toying with him while the other one got ready to shoot. If he had been paying more attention, he would have noticed it.

He stares at the necklace again, knowing that he should just toss it aside and let the winds cover it with sand overnight, erasing it from his memory. But he can't come up with a good enough excuse as to why he shouldn't be allowed keep it. Din sighs and settles on pocketing it for some unknown reason, ending his distraction.

He still has to find her and now she had a head start. Mumbling a curse, he spends the rest of the night picking up her trail again which leads him to a shipyard the following morning.

From where he hides, Din can see that she’s about to board a ship. He starts to move out of his position, eager to prevent her from getting on and ending this assignment once and for all. But she stops and he witnesses a heartfelt goodbye between Jules and her partner before she heads away from the shipyard. He follows closely behind, confused as to where she’s going now that she didn’t board the ship.

She winds through the streets and he stalks her every move until she turns around and fixes her gaze in his general direction. No. Not his general direction – at him specifically. Din has enough experience with viewing life through a helmet to know when someone is looking directly at him. She holds the stare for a few moments before continuing her walk through the city. He understands through that wordless encounter that she wants him to follow her.

Hand on his blaster, he follows her steps until he sees her halt at the end of a secluded street. Jules turns around and removes her helmet.

Din doesn’t acknowledge the breath that escapes him and doesn’t dare think about how the holographic picture doesn’t compare to the real thing.

             “I’m not going to run from you anymore, Mandalorian,” she says, shifting the position of her helmet beneath an arm as she holds her wrists out in surrender.

Her voice snaps him out of his daze, thankful that his armor hid the lack of composure on his face. Din clenches his jaw as he takes out his blaster, pointing it at her as he moves closer to her. She doesn’t move a muscle, only keeps staring with an unreadable expression.

He stops moving when he’s about a foot away from where she stands. He expects her to attack then, to pull out her blaster or to make a jarring movement that could potentially throw him off. Jules doesn’t do any of those things and he finds it just as unsettling that she is giving up so easily.

“If I go with you,” she starts, her voice set with steady resolve. “Will you leave the woman I was with alone?”

             He wasn’t expecting that question but answers her anyways, “The bounty is on you. She is of no concern to me.”

Whether she was aware of it or not, she visibly relaxes at his answer. Jules nods, letting out a sharp exhale and extends her wrists out further.

             “I surrender willingly, then.” Din cuffs her wrists quickly before she has a chance to change her mind. He’s about to begin leading her to the Crest when she adds a final condition.

“Just don’t stun me.”

[okuraiani]

“Secret Project” — Ikemen Prince Prologue

I talked about this the other day, but today I can finally announce that I've finished (ಥ﹏ಥ)

I've finished translating the prologue for Ikemen Prince!

It's been a few days since the game was released, but I still want to share some of my impressions with you before you guys plunge into the madness that is my translation (￣▽￣*)ゞ

Truth be told, I had mixed feelings about this game when I first heard about it. It honestly reminded me quite much about Midnight Cinderella (which I am not so fond of as I am of others) although the premise is different here. However, said premise is exactly what got me interested in the game. The basis for this game is the tale of The Beauty and the Beast; a very well-known one, I think. I was curious as to how they would include this into the story, but as of now it looks really promising („• ֊ •„)

The system is really similar to Ikemen Genjiden, so it is not too difficult if you already got used to it before (though it's definitely different from Ikemen Revolution and Ikemen Vampire.) For those who don't know Ikemen Genjiden's system yet: Don't worry, it is really not that hard to figure out!

The visuals are really great and fit the theme extremely well. As for the attire for each suitor, I think most of them are incredibly pretty! σ(≧ε≦σ) ♡

The three initial suitors are as expected Leon, Chevalier and Yves. I did think that Leon and Chevalier were obvious choices because they are the leaders of each faction ┐(￣ヮ￣)┌ and although I'm not too sure how Yves fits in there, I wasn't especially surprised about him being one of the first suitors.

Moreover, the prologue is fully voiced, which makes it a really worthwhile experience (*￣▽￣)b

So, without any further ado, please enjoy Ikemen Prince's prologue! I hope many people will come to love this game (share some love with Ikemen Live and Ikemen Genjiden too, please) so that we'll see an English version in the future °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

(By the way, Emma is the preset name if you don't choose any other (.❛ ᴗ ❛.) Also, I apologize beforehand for any typos or formatting mistakes. It was... a lot of text (ಥ﹏ಥ))

Part 1 — A Tale That Started in a Bookstore

A sweet love like fluffy, melting cotton candy. A bitter love like black tea without sugar or milk. There are many types of love stories in this world. Every time I come in contact with those, I come to think that I don’t know true love. People my age fall in love, get married and build a happy family. The time when I dreamed of a serious love to the point of giving up myself might have already ended.

(But... still...)

Even today I still yearn for a love I would risk my entire life for.

Emma “... Haah, this book was great as well.”

During the day on a weekday, on the counter of the much less busy than usual bookstore, I gently closed the book.

(There aren’t even customers coming in... well, it’s troubling that they don’t come, but thanks to that I can read a lot of books.)

??? “Emma, did you finish reading?”

Emma “Woah!?”

Suddenly, because of the shadow that filled up my vision, I jumped back from my earlier thoughts.

Emma “Ri– Rio...?”

Rio “Sorry for surprising you. I came to see you today, too.”

Emma “Welcome, Rio. But... shouldn’t you be at work at this time?”

Rio “Ah, I quit the day before yesterday.”

Emma “Huh, so it’s like—... you quit!?”

Rio “That’s right. That’s why I’m in the middle of searching for a highly praised job!”

Emma “Is... is that so... again...”

Because I felt like we had the same conversation just a few months ago, as his friend I got a little worried.

(He’s skillful with his hands, sociable and he has a bit of a clumsy side to him, but he’s still liked by everyone...)

Emma “Why did you quit work?”

Rio “Of course, because I am yours.”

Emma “Excuse me?”

Rio “Because, since you saved me that day, my body and my heart, I will devote everything to you.” “I can’t serve other people.”

Emma “Aaah, yes... in other words, your reason is a secret.”

The sight from the rainy day three years ago when I had picked up the collapsed and nearly dying Rio crossed my mind.

(I always thought so, but it feels like a big dog became attached to me.)

Rio “I’m always serious, okay! By the way, is the owner in?” “I wanted to talk to him in person today because I want to work here with you...”

Emma “He went out to some distant place to go shopping, so I think he won’t return for some time.”

Rio “No way...!”

I was about to tell him to give up— but seeing that Rio looked dejected like a dog with its ears down, I swallowed the words.

Emma “... You may not be able to talk to him directly, but how about asking the owner with a letter next time?”

Rio “Can I!?”

Emma “Sure. There’s also physical work to do in a bookstore, so it would be reassuring to have you here.”

Rio “Thanks, Emma. From now on I will call you Master, okay?”

Emma “No, don’t—”

Surprised by the noise that came without warning, I quickly covered my stomach.

Emma “Did... Did you hear that?”

Rio “Of course! But rest assured. I know you very well, you know.”

Smiling proudly Rio walks up to a cart.

(A cart? Since when has that been here!?)

Rio “I thought this might happen, so— ta-dah!”

The sheet on top of the cart was removed and what came to light was a mountain of food.

Emma “Wow, amazing!”

Candied fruits, truffles with a lot of cheese, rose-shaped baked sweets and apple benier— On that cart were a lot of foods that you often see at festivals.

Rio “This also doubles as my lunch, but I was in a bit of trouble since I bought too much.” “I’d be happy if you eat to your heart’s content.”

Emma “Really? Well then, thanks for the food!”

When I put the baked confectionery into my mouth, I couldn’t help but smile.

Emma “Mmh, this is so good!” “Come to think of it, wasn’t there a festival going on outside?”

Rio “Yeah. Remember, today is the National Foundation Day of the Rhodolite Kingdom!”

Part 2 — Festival of the Rose Country

Emma “Come to think of it, wasn’t there a festival going on outside?”

Rio “Yeah. Remember, today is the National Foundation Day of the Rhodolite Kingdom!” “This year, there are a lot of street stalls as well.”

Emma “I see. Were there any notable booths?”

Rio, while chewing on an apple benier, clapped his hands as he remembered.

Rio “I remember now. There was a stand with old books!”

Emma “What, really?”

Rio “Yeah, isn’t there a traveling merchant who sells books once in a while?”

(That sounds interesting... I’m REALLY interested, but I need to watch the shop...)

Rio “Off you go.”

Emma “Huh...?”

Rio “I’ll watch the shop for you.”

Emma “Are you sure?”

Rio “Whom do you take me for? I’m your future husband after all.”

Emma “... you’ve gotten that wrong, but thanks anyway, Rio!”

Rio “If you want to thank me, then a hug—”

Emma “You can get a handshake.”

I held his big hand tight, shaking it up and down and then released it.

Emma “Okay, I’m off then! You can look forward to a souvenir!”

Rio “All right!” “She’s so cute... I really hope she doesn’t get caught by some bad guys.”

The moment I left the shop, I felt like I heard Rio whisper that.

Street Vendor 1 “If it isn’t Emma! Take this rose-shaped hair ornament to commemorate the National Foundation Day.”

Emma “Wow, that’s lovely! Thank you.”

Street vendor 2 “I also recommend our rose-shaped brooches! It will surely suit you, so I’ll give you one as a present.”

Emma “Really? Thank you so much!”

I carefully put the rose-shaped works on top of the several volumes of books I bought from the traveling merchant just before. When I thanked the generous stall owners and started walking again, banners engraved with “Rhodolite Kingdom—Country of Roses” hung from the buildings along the street flitted.

(Country of Roses... That’s indeed true.)

The flowers that bloomed in the city, the products lined up at the street stalls, and even the castle one could see in the distance were all packed with roses. When I took a deep breath, a mellow scent filling up my chest, the familiar sensation made me smile.

(Okay, let’s see. I bought the books and next I need to get a souvenir for Rio...)

??? “Don’t ya watch where ya goin’? Ya shitty brat!!”

Emma “... what?”

To the dangerous voice that stood in contrast to the beautiful city, not only me but also the people around me stopped their feet. In the middle of the turmoil were a red-faced man and a boy who was sitting on the ground.

Little Boy “Waaah... sob...”

Drunkard “How ‘bout ya beg for forgiveness for crashin’ into me? Hah!?”

(... No, you don’t!)

Because of the highly raised hand, I stepped in between the drunkard and the boy without hesitation.

Drunkard “What do ya want...?”

Emma “What do you think you are doing, raising a hand against a small child like him!?”

Drunkard “Shuddup! That’s got nothin’ to do with ya!”

The clenched fist that had stopped before was now swinging down at me. When I tried to promptly shield myself, the books fell to the ground—

(Huh...?) (It doesn’t hurt?)

??? “That’s as far as you go.”

When I timidly opened my eyes... A man who had stood behind the drunkard before he knew it, strongly held on to the hand reeking of liquor.

Black-haired Man “If you kick up a fuss, I’ll be your opponent... So, how about it?”

Part 3 — Beast and Beast

Black-haired Man “If you kick up a fuss, I’ll be your opponent... So, how about it?”

Emma “Uh...”

We as well as the curious onlookers were swallowed by his unique aura and as if the tumult had been a lie, it grew silent again.

(... What a presence that person has...)

If I had to compare, the feeling of tension around him was the same as if the King of Beasts had escaped from its cage and suddenly appeared in the city. It should have been clear to everyone that this person wasn’t someone you should pick a fight with... Just as the man smiled daringly, the drunkard shook off his hand with a click of his tongue.

Drunkard “Then, why don’t ya bring it on!”

Black-haired Man “Heh, how lively.”

Emma “Please wait! A peaceful solution would—”

Drunkard “Be quiet!”

(No!)

The drunkard loudly kicked a book that was scattered on the ground. The book drew a perfect arc and, just like that, landed in the middle of the road— As if to block the path of a white horse that walked over.

??? “Oh...?”

The man riding on the white horse looked down at the book and then shot the drunkard a piercing glance.

(This person... he has an extraordinary aura as well...)

??? “Are you that impertinent miscreant?”

His sharp, freezing gaze glinted with a cruel light, just like a tiger fixating on its prey. If you happened to make even the littlest mistake, you would lose your short-lived life in that exact moment. It was that kind of tension that made your throat dry up.

(... Hmm? The coat of arms on his saddle...) (Don’t tell me he belongs to the Royal Family!?)

Drunkard “Hah!? Bastard, don’t go lookin’ down on me!”

As if to threaten the drunkard who trampled down on the book, the man from the Royal Family sharpened his look even further.

Male from the Royal Family “I did not plan to take part in such vulgar performance, but is this also a part of the festival’s entertainment?”

Emma “... eh!?”

The royal man drew the sword hanging from his waist—

(It can’t be, he’s planning to kill him!?)

My body moved without me realizing.

Emma “Cut it out already!”

Drunkard “Wah!?”

Before one could see the whole of the sword’s blade, my palm struck the drunkard’s cheek with all the strength I had. The black-haired man and the member of the Royal Family both stared at me in silent disbelief.

Drunkard “Wha—What the heck was that for!”

Emma “Calm down, will you! Or do you really want to be killed!?”

Drunkard “... kill—you mean—...”

When I silently pointed towards the coat of arms on the horse’s saddle, his deep red face turned deathly pale. Taking in the situation, I decisively turned in the direction the man on the horse.

Emma “I sincerely apologize for the trouble! If you can, please excuse what happened just now.”

Although I waited for a response, the man from the Royal Family kept quiet.

Black-haired Man “... ahahaha!”

What broke the tension of this life and death situation was a refreshing laughter.

Black-haired Man “Rest assured. That guy’s not someone who would kill people because of something like this.”

Emma “Eh...?”

Male from the Royal Family “... You have awoken my interest.”

??? “Chevalier, are you done playing?”

A man riding a chestnut horse lined up next to the white one and shrugged his shoulder as if he did that on purpose.

Chevalier “Yes. It was a waste of time.”

(Are we safe...?)

Just when I felt relieved, the sharp, tiger-like gaze was cast on the book still scattered on the ground.

Chevalier “Do these books belong to you?”

Emma “Eh, yes...”

He intently stared at the book on the ground.

(I wonder what’s with him... He’s staring really hard...)

When the man named Chevalier shifted his gaze from the book to myself, the man next to him cheerfully opened his mouth.

??? “What, this time you are hitting on someone?”

Chevalier “There is no merit in wooing a woman...”

Emma “Eh!?”

His sword was drawn in a flowing motion and the tip was thrust at my throat.

(Just... why?)

While swallowing a gasp at the sudden action, he scooped up my jaw with the flat of the blade.

Chevalier “These books, however, are different. Contrary to your body, they have value. You’d do well to remember that.”

(... It’s so painful to breathe...)

My voice wouldn’t come out no matter what—so when I managed to nod, the man returned his sword to its sheath and took hold of the horse’s reins.

(... What a terribly scary person...)

As if chasing after the white horse that stepped forward, the chestnut horse next to it started to move as well. Upon leaving, its rider gave me an amused look but left without saying a word. The moment the tension dissipated breathing, which had been so painful before, became easier again.

(I was wondering how this would end, but... I’m glad that nothing serious happened.)

With a sidelong glance towards the helpless drunkard who sat down, I faced the black-haired man after a short pause.

Emma “Thank you so much for helping me—what should I call you, Mister...?”

Leon “My name is Leon. And you don’t have to be so formal.”

Emma “Thanks then, Leon. Say, are you acquainted with the member of the Royal Family from earlier?”

Leon “Yeah, but it’s not like we ever talked that much.”

Leon picked up the books and rose-shaped decorations that were scattered on the ground in front of me.

Leon “Here you go.”

Emma “Thank you.”

(It seems neither the books nor the ornaments are damaged.)

Leon “You really love books, don’t you.”

Emma “Yes, because the stories are more interesting than reality. But more importantly...”

As I kneeled down beside the child who wiped his eyes while sobbing, Leon also lined up next to him.

Leon “Did you stop crying, shortie?”

Little Boy “Sniffle... Mama...”

Leon “So you’re lost... Then, come with me.”

Little Boy “... You’ll... bring me to Mama?”

Leon “Yeah, I’ll look for her for you.”

Leon lifted his small body with ease.

(Somehow, he seems like a totally different person than before.)

The beast-like tension around him had vanished and instead he was wrapped up in a friendly atmosphere.

Little Boy “Um, big sis... thanks for saving me.”

Emma “It was nothing. I’m just glad that you’re not hurt.”

Leon “The same goes for you. So, should we go?”

Emma “Wait, I’ll also—’

Before I could even offer to help out with searching for the boy’s mother, Leon briskly walked away while waving his hand.

(At first I thought he would be scary, but... I guess he is a nice guy after all.) (If we happen to meet once more, I have to thank him again.)

Turning my back towards the castle, visible in the distance, I once again walked through the city, where the hustle and bustle started to return.

—... at the same time.

??? “I found you at last.”

Part 4 — The Devil’s Summon

??? “I found you at last.”

A devilish smile played on the lips of the shadow hiding in a back alley.

??? “It seems training her will be worthwhile... hehehe.”

Without noticing the shadow moving about in unknown places... By the time the sky was dyed red, I finally arrived at the front of the bookstore.

(Finding a souvenir took more time than I expected. I hope Rio isn’t angry with me.)

When I opened the door while thinking of how to apologize to Rio—

??? “Welcome back, Emma.”

The person inside, sitting on the counter with his legs crossed, wasn’t Rio but a man I never saw before. I stared at him without responding to his greeting. The man simply smiled back at me. I closed the door to cut off the sinister aura I felt on my skin.

(... Just now, wasn’t there a devil-like person inside?) (No, it might have been my imagination. There’s no way there could be a devil after all.) (I’m certain I just mistook Rio for somebody else... At least I hope so.)

I took a deep breath and opened the door once more— A man with a devilish smile stood right before my eyes.

Devil-like Man “That is an extraordinary greeting, don’t you think?”

Emma “.... Mmnnh!”

The very moment I turned on my heels and tried to escape, an arm was put around my waist and my mouth was blocked.

(Why, what’s happening!?)

Devil-like Man “Please keep quiet. Otherwise, I can’t allow you to breathe.”

His words shocked me to the point I became speechless.

Devil-like Man “Due to certain circumstances I have come to pick you up.”

With a snap of the fingers of the man clad in black, multiple men surrounded me.

(Wait! Those clothes... aren’t those guards from the castle!?)

Devil-like Man “For the time being, I will take you with me.”

Emma “Mnnh!!!”

(Wait a minute, wait! What did I do...!?)

Without understanding anything, I was taken to a carriage that stopped outside—

(Wha—...)

Before I knew what was happening, the place I had been taken to was the front of the majestic castle I had only seen from a distance.

(How beautiful...) (Wait, it’s not the time for that! Why was I brought to such a place!?)

In a daze, I looked up at the castle that was so big that its tip seemed to reach up farther than the clouds, when—

??? “Hey, you are in the way.”

The surprise shook me out of my daze. I lowered my gaze when someone tapped my shoulder. What I saw there were two men dressed in gorgeous outfits.

??? “Heh, your looks aren’t half bad. Yvie, do you know her?”

Yves “I absolutely do not know any ordinary women like her. Are you sure it isn’t a woman you dumped in the past, Nokto?”

(Who are they?)

Part 5 — Eight Wild Beasts

??? “Heh, your looks aren’t half bad. Yvie, do you know her?”

Yves “I absolutely don’t know any ordinary women like her. Are you sure it isn’t a woman you dumped in the past, Nokto?”

(Who are they?)

Because of the scrutinizing gaze of the two people who drew closer, I subconsciously stepped back.

Nokto “Huh, you are really on guard... I wonder if the cause of that is because you were dumped in the past.”

Yves “Hah? So she really is a woman you threw away in the past? You really are the worst, you frivolous womanizer.”

Emma “Um... You guys, just who on earth—...“

When I cut into the seemingly uncontrollable conversation, the man called Yves exaggeratedly opened his eyes.

Yves “... Don’t tell me, you don’t know who we are?”

Emma “At the very least, it’s not like we are acquainted...”

Nokto “What, so she wasn’t my woman after all.”

Yves “I don’t care about that! Not knowing who I am is something that shouldn’t happen on any terms!”

(Woah, what the—!?)

With a bloodcurdling look Yves reached out to me. And as if to block that, a black shadow lithely fluttered about.

Devil-like Man “Your Royal Highnesses, Prince Nokto and Prince Yves, I will introduce you later.”

Nokto “So you are here. Is that girl a guest?”

Devil-like Man “That is correct. After knowing this, if you aren’t a fool, please take a guess as to what reason you are gathered for.”

Yves “... ah.”

Nokto “What, so it’s like that.”

(... What is it?)

Devil-like Man “If you understand, then please make haste towards the round table.”

Nokto “Sure, sure. I got it.”

Nokto waved his hand as he passed way too close next to me. The moment I breathed in relief, my hand was grabbed from behind.

Nokto “I’ll play with you next time, okay?”

Emma “P-Play...?”

Snickering with a seductive smile engraved on his lips, this time around Nokto really left.

(... He seems to be an incredibly flippant person.)

Yves, on the other hand, pointed his index finger at me when his eyes met mine.

Yves “I will never ever in my life recognize such a mediocre person as Belle!”

Emma “‘Belle’?”

Turning away like a cat with a ‘hmph’ of disapproval, Yves also entered the castle.

(Just where did I hear the name ‘Belle’ before? I can’t quite remember...)

Devil-like Man “Well then, Emma. Please don’t dawdle about, we will go as well.”

Emma “Wah, wait a minute...!”

The man grabbed my hand and, as if chasing the other two, we advanced into the castle. After passing through a massive door, we found ourselves in a stairwell-like hall.

(Wow, this looks as if I got lost in a picture book...)

The roses that were in full bloom and the decorations as well... Whichever you chose, it had reached the level of fine arts. For commoners it was a sight far beyond their ability that left one dizzy.

(I’m so obviously sticking out like a sore thumb.)

When my feet stopped due to the uneasiness, a suspicious look entwined me like a snake.

Devil-like Man “Oh dear, is this an expression of insubordination?”

Emma “This isn’t defiance or anything... But isn’t it time you started explaining? Who exactly are you?”

Devil-like Man “Yes... Now that you mention it, I haven’t formally introduced myself yet.”

Easier than I expected, the man released my hand while smiling calmly.

Sariel “I am called Sariel. My occupation is Government Official of the Royal Court.”

Emma “Government Official... of the Royal Court?”

Sariel “You may have been alarmed, but please rest assured. I will train you to become emotionally attached to me.”

(Train me...!?)

It seemed that rather than calling him with the imposing title of Government Official of the Royal Court, labeling him as a mysterious devil fitted him more.

Emma “Before I’m being trained, I’d like to go home, though...”

Sariel “Then that means you give up on living, right?”

He spoke with a devilish smile, as if it didn’t matter whatever I said.

Emma “... There is one thing I need to know. Rio, the one who should have been at the store,... He is safe, right?”

Sariel “Yes, of course. If you would kindly listen to what I say, I will guarantee his life at least.”

(In any case, it seems I can only obediently obey him.)

Emma “... I understand.”

When I nodded, Sariel who had brought his face closer, put the hair covering my cheek behind my ear—

Sariel “Hehehe, I cannot wait to make such a defiant person surrender.”

(... I can’t believe someone like that is a Government Official of the Royal Court...)

Unconsciously glaring back at him, Sariel gave me an amused smile and started walking again. This time, I followed the black-clothed back of my own volition.

Sariel “Now then, we have arrived.”

When the two guards standing in front of the room opened the double door— The atmosphere changed.

(What... Is this...?)

Eight men were surrounding the enshrined round table in the center of the spacious room. Just as footsteps resounded in the room, their gazes pierced me all at once. I felt so overwhelmed at the sudden unwanted attention that it left me speechless. With eight sharp glares directed at me, I stood stock still like a small animal before a beast.

(Those people are...)

Under those ferocious and wild, yet noble gazes... Were the people I met in front of the castle a moment ago, As well as the ones I saw back in town... And then...

Leon “Heh, who’d have thought we meet again.”

Emma “No way, Leon!?”

Part 6 — What the Princes Talk About

Leon “Heh, who’d have thought we meet again.”

Emma “No way, Leon!?”

(What... Is the meaning of this?)

Leon, whom I had thought to have the same simple tastes as the townspeople only a few hours ago, was now wearing refined clothes and loftily included in the group at the round table.

Sariel “You must not do that, Emma. You cannot talk in that way when you speak to the princes.”

Leon “Don’t worry. I already told you that you don’t need to be so formal.”

Emma “Leon, you are a prince?”

Leon “Yeah. All the guys here, without exception, are princes.”

(I really... Want this to be a dream...)

My body, which was unexpectedly about to collapse, was supported from behind where Sariel was. But what I felt from the hand that grasped my shoulder wasn’t kindness but rather an additional blow that said, ‘There is no place for you to run.’

Sariel "Your Highnesses, thank you very much for gathering here." “From now on, as I conveyed the other day, we will hold the approval ceremony of the ‘Belle-System.’

(‘Belle-System’? ‘Approval ceremony’...?)

Sariel “To begin with, this girl is called Emma.” “Since this is your first time meeting each other, would you please introduce yourselves starting with His Highness, Prince Luke?”

Luke “Too troublesome.”

Sariel “Your Highness.”

Luke “It’s fine, if I just do it, right?”

The man who was sitting closest to me listlessly opened his mouth.

Luke “Luke Randolph. I’m the seventh... no, more like eighth prince.”

Nokto “I’m seventh in line, Nokto Klein. You can always come over to my room, okay?” “And over here is my twin brother—“

Licht “Sixth, Licht Klein.”

Yves “The fifth prince, Yves Kloss. I have no choice but to tell you my name. Don’t address me casually, though.”

Jin “I’m Jin Grandet. I’m the eldest brother of these guys, so that makes me the first prince.” “I’m sure it will be hard with all those problem children, but, well, keep them company in moderation.”

Clavis “I am the third in line, Clavis Lelouch. You can call me Clavis.” “The show earlier was quite entertaining. Don’t you think so as well, Cheva?”

Chevalier “Nonsense.” “However, I will teach you my name considering that you escaped harm with that courageous display. Chevalier Michel, second prince.”

Leon “So I’m the last one.” “Leon Dompteur. I’m this country’s fourth prince. Again, nice to meet you, Emma.”

Emma “Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you.” “Although I was called here... I don’t completely understand the situation. What is this ‘Belle-System’ in the first place?”

Yves “Huh? You didn’t even know that and still shamelessly came to the castle?”

Emma “I was downright kidnapped, thank you very much!”

Luke “Sariel, did you really kidnap her?”

Sariel “Please refrain from saying anything that would harm my reputation. I acted upon consent.”

Emma “Upon consent—?”

Sariel “You agreed, did you not?”

My meager resistance was ruthlessly cut off and I swallowed my words.

Sariel “Since long ago, the chosen citizen of this nation is to select the next king in our Rhodolite Kingdom—“ “That is your duty by becoming ‘Belle’.”

(Ah, I remember now.)

Emma “If I remember right, the name Belle means ‘a person with a beautiful heart’, right?”

Sariel “Yes, that is correct.”

(I totally forgot that since the king is replaced only every few decades.) (... wait.)

Emma “Are you telling me... that I am that Belle?”

Sariel “Haven’t I said that since before?” “I want you to select the new king out of these eight princes.”

Part 7 — Belle

Sariel “I want you to select the new king out of these eight princes.”

(Choose the king? ME!?)

That crazy story was a shock like receiving a heavy blow to the head.

Emma “Why, why me? Deciding who will be king is a serious matter for a country!”

Jin “That’s what I want to ask as well. What made you choose her, Sariel?”

Sariel “The slap she performed.”

Jin “... Haha, so that’s it.”

(With slap he can’t mean...)

Emma “Sariel, you also were at the festival venue?”

Sariel “How perceptive. I was searching the town high and low in order to find a candidate for Belle...” “But when you hit that scoundrel in His Highness Prince Chevalier’s stead right away, I was charmed by that ability.”

Emma “At–, at that time, I just desperately...”

Sariel “For humans, the more desperate we are, the more we bare our true nature.” “Your excellent ability to assess the situation and your decisiveness, as well as not to forsake the scoundrel, and your just and beautiful heart—“ “You are undoubtedly a person of exceptional talent fitting to receive the title of ‘Belle’.”

(Oh, no. No, no, just no.)

Sariel looked satisfied, but I, on the other hand, felt my uneasiness grow rapidly.

Sariel “Catching me eye is something to take pride in for generations.”

Emma “Um, I’m very grateful for what you’re saying, but accepting such an important task like being ‘Belle’ isn’t—“

Nokto “If you refuse, Sariel’s gonna cry, you know?”

Clavis “I think I really want to see that, but... There’s certainly no time for that.”

Emma “What do you mean?”

Clavis “Seeing that His Majesty the King has suddenly departed, it is necessary to quickly decide on a new king, don’t you agree?”

Emma “Suddenly means... the king has passed away!?”

Sariel “Your Highness... Wasn’t this information supposed to be concealed from the public for the time being?”

Clavis “Oops, seems I was a bit careless there. It’s fine if you cry, Sariel.”

Sariel “... Tsk.”

(Did he just click his tongue at a prince!?)

Sariel “Hehe, the inherent nature has shown itself.”

Emma “... Why are you hiding such an important thing from the public?”

Even though Sariel was carrying a sour look on his face, he took a deep breath as if he was resigning. So, he pointed his gaze towards the map hanging on the wall.

Sariel “The Rhodolite Kingdom is a small kingdom that is surrounded on all sides by three other countries.” “We have built comparatively good relationships with our ally, the country of Benitoite, and the neutral country of Jade.” “However, the great country of Obsidian alone is vigilantly eyeing our Rhodolite Kingdom for an opportunity to aim at our territory.” “I presume you have knowledge about that much?”

Emma “I do...”

Sariel “If the news about our King’s passing were to spread before our kingdom’s structure is stabilized, it is very much possible that they would take advantage of the disorder to invade our country.”

Hearing Sariel say something like that had me speechless with horror.

Sariel “When His Majesty the King actually became ill, the Obsidian, who had gotten wind of the information from somewhere, invaded the border.” “That led to the situation where the princes of our country proceeded towards the battlefield themselves to drive them away.” “Do you understand what that means?”

(Thinking about it calmly, of course I do.)

In this time when even the princes rush to the battlefield as soldiers—the weight of knowing such a secret made me break out in cold sweat.

Emma “... I won’t tell anyone about His Majesty’s passing.”

Sariel “I fear simply promising that will not be enough. There is one more thing I want to hear.”

Emma “... That’s...”

Sariel “Just as His Highness Prince Clavis has said, we need to immediately choose a new king.” “Right now, your existence is already affecting the life or death of our country.” “You will accept the position of ’Belle”, will you not?”

Emma “I do understand the circumstances, but as expected I’m not suited to—“

Sariel “Well then, Your Highnesses, Prince Leon and Prince Chevalier, if you approve of her as ‘Belle’ then please raise your hands.”

(You just ignore what I said!?)

Chevalier raised his hand before anyone else.

Nokto “Oh, how fast, Your Highness.”

Luke “Is it okay for a leader to be so half-minded?”

Chevalier “Naturally, since it doesn’t concern me who will become Belle.”

Emma “What does he mean, ‘leader’?”

Sariel “The princes are divided into two major factions, centered on Prince Leon and Prince Chevalier.” “His Highness Prince Leon’s faction who value domestic affairs and His Highness Prince Chevalier’s faction who value foreign affairs. That is about all it amounts to, I guess.” “Since the consensus of each of the princes is polarized, the resolution is often entrusted to Prince Leon and Prince Chevalier.”

(I see... So that’s why he asked the two of them right now.) (No, more importantly—)

Without regard for my opinion, Sariel continued to talk.

Sariel “What about you, Prince Leon?”

Everyone’s eyes gathered at him.

Leon “Emma, let’s hear what you intend to do.”

Part 8 — A Tale Yet to be Seen

Leon “Emma, let’s hear what you intend to do.”

Emma “I want...”

When I tried to say that it would be impossible, just as I had said many times before... My words were absorbed by Leon’s ascertaining eyes.

Leon “I think you have the capability to determine the next king.”

Emma “... That’s not true. I mean, there’s nothing special about me. I’m just a commoner.”

Leon “All of the former ‘Belle’s’ have been commoners.”

Emma “No way...”

Leon “Why do you think does something like the ‘Belle-System’ exist in the first place?”

Emma “... I don’t know.”

When I answered honestly, Leon raised the edges of his mouth.

Leon “Then, do you know what the people from the Royal Family are called out on the streets?”

(That, of course I know.)

Emma “—‘Noble beasts’, right?”

Leon “Yeah. A long time ago, the people of this nation assessed the inhumane royals who struggled for power all the time as ‘beasts’. But since then, those who inherited the blood of the Royal Family have come to be called ‘noble beasts’.”

(I remember that as a kid, I once thought that the members of the Royal Family were all densely covered in thick hair.)

Emma “But that is just an old story, isn’t it?”

Leon “No, every single one of the guys present is a beast who only holds the desire to act in his self-interest.” “Devouring people for their ambitions and ideals... Even that was probably done without batting a damn eyelid.”

(Saying they devoured people feels like a bit too much...)

That was what I thought, but the eyes of the princes were too fierce to just laugh it off.

Leon “In fact, we princes are sometimes referred to as ‘beasts’ when slaughtering enemies on the battlefield.” “Do you think the guys in front of you can still turn into good boys, though?”

In that moment, I didn’t know how to answer his question.

(I still don’t know anything about them. And each of these guys might seem like a beast on the surface.)

Leon “That’s why we need a ‘Belle’.” “So that we can turn from beast to human through the example of someone from among the citizens with a particularly beautiful heart.” “Moreover, only a human with a pure and righteous heart can choose a ‘man’ and not a beast as the king, don’t you think?”

Emma “Although that may be true, I don’t have such a noble heart.”

Sariel “Oh my, am I right to assume you don’t trust my word?”

Emma “No way, I wouldn’t dare...!”

Sariel “Of course you would not, right? You are, after all, ‘Belle’ who owns a pure, righteous, and beautiful heart. My word is absolute.”

(He’s so pushy...)

Leon “The rest is up to you. If you really don’t want to, then I’m willing to push this matter aside...” “However, you said you love stories, right?”

Emma “... Well, I did say that, but...”

For some reason, Leon grinned at me as if he was sure of his victory.

Leon “Doesn’t choosing a king seem like a much more interesting story than the ones in books?”

(When he says it like that...)

Leon “Furthermore, you are the story’s protagonist. Such an opportunity doesn’t come often, does it?”

(... Leon’s really cunning, phrasing his words like that.)

The age where I wished for something fierce like a fictional story was long past. But in truth... While the people around me are changing, I am the only one who remains unchanged. I was always desperately wishing for something that would rewrite my ordinary life.

(I have a lot of insecurities and the responsibility is heavy. I know I can’t do this with half-hearted feelings.) (Still... Something may change.)

The thought of a yet-unseen tale made my heart beat faster and my body get hot.

Leon “What will you do, Emma?”

(What I want to do is...)

As not to lose the resolution I gathered, I clasped my hands tightly—

Emma “... I want to do it.”

When I told him my unadorned feelings in those few words, Leon directly raised his hand.

Sariel “With that, it is decided I presume.”

Without letting the atmosphere linger, Chevalier briskly left his seat.

Leon “You’re going already?”

Chevalier “Our business is over.”

Clavis “Wouldn’t it be better to flatter Belle a bit?”

Chevalier “That’s just a waste of my time.” “It doesn’t matter who Belle chooses. It won’t change the fact that I will become the future king.”

His words had me so baffled that the only thing that left my mouth was a startled sound. Chevalier’s ice-cold gaze that seemed to freeze everything it touched caught me.

Chevalier “If you get in my way, I will dispose of you. That is what I plan to do.”

His cruel words left me speechless. Similar to the time when he thrust his sword at my throat, just his gaze made it painful to breathe.

(This person... He is terrifying.)

Clavis, who followed after the leaving Chevalier, tapped my shoulder as he passed me.

Clavis “I’m sorry for Cheva’s behavior.” “Well, I don’t have interest in the throne, but I like amusing things. Please entertain me with your way of life, okay little girl?”

While I was captivated by his brilliant smile, the footsteps of those two grew distant and they disappeared behind the door.

Sariel “Really now, it seems that I haven’t disciplined them enough.”

Next to Sariel, who sighed deeply, this time a hand was raised, waving.

Nokto “Hey, Sariel. Got a question.”

Sariel “Please go ahead and ask, Your Highness.”

Nokto “Belle choosing a king means, to put it bluntly, the guy who wins this girl over is going to become the king, right?”

Sariel “Plainly spoken, that is what will happen.”

Obtaining Sariel’s consent, Nokto turned his face to me—

Nokto “Well, since I’ll seduce you, let’s get along, okay?”

(He’s going to do what!?)

Part 9 — The King and the Rose

Nokto “Well, since I’ll seduce you, let’s get along, okay?”

(He’s going to do what!?)

Emma “That would be troub—“

Sariel “You are truly quick to understand, Your Highness.”

Yves “Ugh, I can’t listen to this anymore!” “To seduce her... Nokto, as a prince, aren’t you lacking pride and self-awareness?”

Nokto “If that’s what you think, don’t interfere. Got it, Yvie?”

Yves “Why would I have to listen to what you say?”

Ignoring me, Sariel and the princes continued talking.

Jin “What, even Yves ended up wanting to seduce her? You’re quite a busy one, aren’t you?”

Yves “Even if she is a commoner, for the time being she is Belle. She is necessary for me to be deemed as worthy of the throne.”

Emma “Then pick a different way to be acknowledged!”

Jin “Ooh, that’s an extremely respectable opinion.”

Luke “How should I put it, you should stop it soon. Don’t you see you’re troubling her?”

As Luke stood up from his seat, the others became quiet.

Luke “Emma... was it, right? If something happens, you can rely on me.”

Emma “Thank you very much, Your Highness.”

Luke “Stop that. Just Luke is fine and you don’t have to be polite.”

Emma “But...”

Luke “You’re addressing Leon familiarly as well, aren’t you? Drop the title with me, too. I don’t like it anyway.”

Emma “... Okay, then I’ll call you Luke.”

Luke “Good.”

Yves “Wait a minute! Didn’t you end up seducing her as well!?”

Jin “No, you got that wrong. That’s just how Luke’s natural character is. You guys as well, do the best you can.”

Jin took a lollipop out of his breast pocket and put it in his mouth.

Leon “Jin, do you think this is other people’s business?”

Jin “Yeah. Because I don’t give a shit about something like ascending to the throne.”

(Give a shit, he said...)

Nokto “I’m fine with whatever, so as a sign of our acquaintanceship, just call me Nokto, okay?”

Yves “I won’t allow that, understood? Make sure to address me with my title.”

Jin “Well, I dislike all that formal phrasing. Call me whatever you like.”

Emma “Then, I will call you Nokto, Yves and Jin.”

Yves “... Hey, are you even listening to what people are saying?”

Licht “... So stupid.”

(... What’s with him?)

Licht, who had only barely opened his mouth other than for the self-introduction, stood up.

Yves “Licht! Don’t always say things that push people away. Do you want your friends to leave?”

Licht “There weren’t any from the start. And I don’t need any.”

Yves “Because you’re again trying to be alone immediately—“ “Ah, wait, Licht! Where are you going!?”

Licht “Returning to my room.”

Nokto “Licht... You don’t have any interest in the throne?”

Licht “... No need to answer.”

Casting down his eyes, Licht left the room just like that.

(Somehow... He seems like someone who is hard to talk to.)

Yves “Really now, that guy...”

Emma “Wanting to be the king, not wanting to be the king... You really have various opinions, don’t you?”

Leon “Even though we are all half-brothers, our thoughts and everything else differ.”

Emma “By the way, what about you, Leon?”

Grinning, he returned a smile that said more than words could.

Leon “Determine with your own eyes whether I’m capable of becoming the king, okay?”

Emma “... All right.”

When I nodded in agreement, the sound of hands clapping quieted the place.

Sariel “I apologize for saying this during your pleasant talk. However, since there is a place I wish to show her, let’s end this meeting here.”

With Sariel leading the way, we walked into a room even more gorgeous than the one with the round table.

(This... It must be the audience hall.) (What to do...? I’ve come to an incredible place.)

What I saw at the end of the red carpet were only the throne and... In addition to that, a rose inside a glass dome.

Emma “What is that rose for?”

Sariel “For generations, on the occasion of His Majesty the King finding his demise, it has become the custom to prepare a rose.” “The rule is that the next king has to be determined by the time all of its petals have fallen.”

Emma “So there is a time limit.”

Sariel “Indeed. This rose is a special breed which continues to bloom for approximately one month.”

(One month... Within that period a new king has to be determined.)

Sariel stopped his feet near the throne and looked back at me.

Sariel “Other than that, all of the terms and conditions concerning the Belle-System are recorded in this covenant.”

(Sorry?)

With a snap of his fingers, the guards who briskly appeared, carrying a table made from oak trees and several sheets of paper completely covered with unusually small letters.

Emma “You’re not seriously telling me I have to read all this, right?”

Sariel “You are asking me something so blatantly obvious?”

(Your true nature again!?)

Sariel “If you have looked over all of this, please sign the covenant.”

Emma “You are sure saying some devilish things.”

Sariel “Because it is necessary. Once you have signed, I will guide you to your room.”

Emma “Okay... Wait, what?”

Sariel “What is the matter?”

Part 10 — Beauty and the Beast’s Covenant

Sariel “Once you have signed, I will guide you to your room.”

Emma “Okay... Wait, what?”

Sariel “What is the matter?”

Emma “Sariel, did you just say you will guide me to a room?”

Sariel “That is what I said.”

Emma “MY room?”

Sariel “Where else would I take you?”

Emma “To my home back in the town, perhaps?”

Sariel “A room for you has been prepared by the Royal Court.” “Because until the one who was selected as Belle has finished their duty, they are to live inside the castle.”

(That can’t be—)

My face grew pale at those unhesitatingly uttered words.

Emma “But that is troubling! What will become of the shop!?”

Sariel “I have already contacted the owner and arranged for a temporary employee.”

Emma “What about the mountain of food that was inside the shop!?”

Sariel “Everything has been moved to your room.”

Emma “Then, where’s Rio!?”

Sariel “Of course, right over here.”

When Sariel snapped his fingers—

Rio “Emma, it’s been a few hours! I really wanted to see you.”

Emma “What the—!?”

Rio who suddenly entered the audience hall was dressed like I had never seen him before.

(He looks like a butler... Or rather, he’s like a real one.)

Emma “Rio... What’s with that get-up?”

Rio “I decided to officially get a job here.”

Emma “Inside the castle!?”

Sariel “There is a single employee benefit in the Belle-System. Pets are allowed inside the Royal Castle.”

Emma “With pet you’re referring to...”

Sariel “This pet of yours, of course.” “When I entered the bookstore, he was barking so persistently that he didn’t leave me a choice but to take him along.”

Rio “Why, Emma was suddenly chosen as a candidate for Belle, so I was just a bit flustered, you know.” “I’m really glad that Sariel is such a reasonable person.”

It was the first time a saw Sariel at a loss for words.

Emma “Sariel, aren’t you looking a bit tired?”

Sariel “Of course I am not... hehe.”

(Something must have happened between those two.)

A small cough, as if going back to square one, resounded in the place.

Sariel “Since he’s just right, I will let him be your caretaker.” “Properly follow your master’s orders, hound.”

Rio “Yes! Emma, whatever happens, I will protect you. So don’t worry, okay?”

Emma “Thanks, Rio. And... Sorry for getting you involved.”

Rio “Not at all. Rather, to think that the day actually came when I can call you Master... Aah, it’s like a dream come true!”

Emma “You’re not calling me that, right?”

(But... Having the usual Rio here with me is really reassuring.)

Sariel “Well now, play with your pet later and quickly read the terms and conditions, please.”

Urged to do so, I once again attempted my fight with the documents... But with this pace it would be late at night by the time I finished reading.

(Aah, seriously... Reading all of this is impossible after all!) (Enough already, I’ll take my time reading it later.)

I flipped through the document in a hurry and reached for the prearranged quill pen. When I wrote down my name on the covenant, Sariel traced around the letters in satisfaction.

Sariel “Thank you very much. With this you have now officially become Belle.” “Our princes are an assembly of peculiar people who can’t be dealt with by ordinary means.” “But, please, choose a good king with your pure heart, will you?”

Emma “... Yes. I will, without fail, show you that I can fulfill my duty.”

This was the first time I felt like Sariel was sincerely smiling.

Rio “Okay, Emma. This is a bit sudden, but shall we go to our new love nest?”

Emma “You’re talking about your own room, right? Thanks, I’ll count on you to lead the way.”

(I have a lot of worries about this, but...) (Since this is something I chose myself, I will never regret it.)

When I looked back, one of the deep crimson petals had fallen inside the glass dome.

(Getting to know them, getting to know the country... and determining the king.)

After Emma and Rio had left the throne room.

Sariel “I think I will be truly busy from now on.”

With the wind that blew through the door left wide open, the letters spelled on the very last page of the overlapping official papers which would later on be what severely disturb our fates were revealed...

Covenant Clause 99 『After the selection period has finished, absolutely any relationship between “Belle” and the Crown is prohibited.』

But this was something nobody knew just yet at that time—...

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

summary:

Modern D&D AU. Caleb settled in for a slow morning at the library, only to be interrupted by a very harried tiefling woman.

It was the first weekday of winter break, meaning that the university campus would be as barren of sapient life as the Barbed Fields. Thus, having to come in for work anyway would have been a slow torture—if Caleb worked anywhere other than a library.

It was already peaceful and quiet, nary a sound of keyboards clacking or students snoring through a power nap. Bliss to his ears.

Caleb did a brisk route around the shelves, grabbing books along the way, until he returned to the front desk with a stack of reading material. He didn't smile at the books as he set them down, per se. After all, it still would've been nicer to read at home with Frumpkin purring in his lap. But this was good, too.

He was a third of the way into the first book of the stack, a treatise by Halas Lutagran on the necromantic foundations of healing magic, when he heard the entrance doors open.

He looked up, brow furrowing, just in time to flinch at a loud yell.

"Beaaaaaaaaau! I need your help, where are you?"

A very blue, pretty tiefling woman flounced into the main hall, dark blue skirts swirling in with the bracing winter wind outside. Instinctively, Caleb wrapped himself with a free arm despite still wearing his coat. The cold did not agree with him these days.

She spun around to face the front desk, mouth open for more enthusiastic yelling, and stopped. "Oh."

He wasn't sure what expression he was making, but he was pretty sure it involved a grimace and a raised eyebrow. "Hello."

"Um." The woman fidgeted with a braid in her short hair, gratefully looking ashamed for a brief second before she bounced over to the desk. The multiple layers of skirt on her hips genuinely gave such an illusion when combined with her general air of enthusiasm. At least Caleb could assume she wasn't cold. "Is Beau here?"

"I am covering for her today. She is away on a trip."

"A trip?" the woman gasped. She threw her arms up in a huff. "She didn't say anything about a trip!"

"Since I only received the request last night, I can guess it was spontaneous."

She groaned. "Yeah, that sounds like her. I bet Dairon came over and kidnapped her, that would explain why I haven't gotten any texts back from her. She's really weird about not using phones when doing something 'important.'" She adds the last in a conspiratorial hush, eyes rolling.

"Right." Caleb's fingers in his book twitched. Would she leave?

Based on the begrudging but desperate look she gave him, after taking another moment for herself to grumble and cross her arms about Beauregard, he could only assume no. Inwardly, he sighed and tucked a pen from the counter into the book.

"So, look," she began, leaning over to brace her crossed arms on the counter. Caleb struggled not to draw back at the sudden proximity as she gazed up at him through her bangs. "I really need some help, please. I have a bird I'm bird-sitting because all of my roommates left to go home for the break except for me because I can't really go home for some complicated reasons I don't really want to get into but makes me really sad, and my roommate who owns the bird couldn't take the bird with her because her mom's boyfriend really hates birds—which, you'd think that would be a dealbreaker for the whole relationship, right, because who hates birds? But whatever, relationships are weird—so I have this bird now, and maybe I told my roommate that I can definitely take care of a bird because I didn't want her to worry about it and how hard could it be, right? Except I don't actually know anything about taking care of a bird and I was hoping Beau would be here because she knows how to take care of birds, she has a parakeet, too, except now she's not here because she probably got kidnapped by Dairon which means I won't even be able to call her for help because Dairon made her turn her phone off!"

At this point, the woman's arms were flying all over the counter as she gesticulated her effusive, supreme distress. One of her hands came dangerously close to slapping the stack of books Caleb had collected into oblivion.

And somehow, she had said all of those words in a few seconds without hardly breathing. He was still rebooting from reading a very engaging treatise less than a minute ago.

Subtly, Caleb shifted the stack of books away from her and worked his jaw.

"I do not know anything about caring for birds," he began.

The woman let out a long, horrified groan and buried her face in her arms. Her fingers went to bury themselves in blue locks.

"But," he said.

The woman's head flew back up, hope lighting her features.

Caleb stuttered at the abrupt heel-turn, and at the way happiness livened her round blue face much more pleasingly than despair. "But, erm, there are many books and computers here. I cannot swear to the accuracy of some of the books, which may be out-of-date or just old, but research is not too difficult. You can use one of the computers here to look for advice online."

The hope in her eyes dimmed a little as she pursed her lips, resting a cheek against a hand. "I mean, I thought about doing that at home. But I'm really worried about getting something wrong, and I don't know what articles are right or wrong either, you know."

Later, he would whack himself for being so weak for something as apparently simple as a charming visage. "I can help."

"Really?"

Caleb winced. Goodbye, Halas treatise. "I have a lot of experience with research. I can tell you if something appears accurate."

"That would be so helpful, thank you!"

She was beaming at him. It was very warm. He looked down at the floor, prayed to the gods he hadn't begun to flush, and said, "Okay, let me show you to the computer room."

Several hours later, the tiefling woman too had a stack of reading material.

"Really, thank you so much," she gushed, stopping on her heel to turn to Caleb as he returned to his spot behind the front desk. "You've saved my life—" she patted the top of the stack of printed articles "—and probably the life of Kiri, too."

"Oh, I would not say that." Caleb massaged his forearm, fingers flexing tight. "I sincerely doubt Kiri would have died under your care. I think you are cleverer than you give yourself credit for."

Her smile back was just as warm as the last sixty-two times she gave it to him. "Thanks, Caleb."

Caleb blinked, and then remembered for the fifth time about his nametag. He was so forgetful now for some reason. "It is my job."

"Still. Thanks."

He offered a tentative smile back.

"Oh gods, wait." The woman shuffled the stack of papers around until she cradled it with a single arm, chin on top pressing it in place, and stuck out a hand to Caleb. She was still grinning at him somehow, and the entire effect was unbearably adorable. "I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Jester. It was really nice to meet you."

He was helpless to resist. He took her hand and shook it. It was cool to the touch. "My name is Caleb. As you already know."

She giggled. The papers under her chin rustled. "Yup. You're really warm, you know."

"Ah, ja." Caleb tucked his hand into his coat pocket and tried not to blush for the thirty-fourth time. "I run hot."

Jester took a few steps back toward the exit, again rearranging the papers until she was holding them in both arms again. She paused and pursed her lips for half a second before asking, "Do you work tomorrow, too?"

"All day."

She nodded decisively. "Then tomorrow I'm coming back and you can meet Kiri, okay?"

"I... okay."

"Okay!"

She beamed at him. He smiled back and waved. She also waved, and then yelped and fumbled to keep the top papers from fluttering off as Caleb not-so-successfully stifled his snickers.

Finally she left, winter winds swirling in again in her wake.

Caleb rubbed his arms as he stared out the door after her, smile still lingering on his lips. Then he sighed, looked down at the counter, and put his elbows down to bury his hot face in his equally hot palms. "Fuck me," he mumbled into his hands.

[thecassadilla]

Written in the Stars - Chapter 3

Word Count: 3,755/AO3

Pairing: Kristanna

Love During Lockdown Series: Serendipity (Prologue) | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Summary: Figuring out how to go on an in-person date during a time of social distancing would be a challenge for anyone. Luckily, it comes easy to Anna and Kristoff, who find a creative way to spend some time with each other amidst a pandemic.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone, I’m back at it again. After a long week of feeling like I couldn’t see or think straight, I’ve somehow managed to write another chapter of this. It’s trash, just like me, so don’t read it lol. As a random side note that nobody even cares about - I haven’t eaten at a McDonald’s or a Dairy Queen in so long. Like, years - and not because of the pandemic, or because I’m a health nut, but just because XD. I don’t even know what this chapter is tbh. I hope you like it! (Also, I hope you like my little joke about Kristoff’s taste in music :P)

Kristoff turned around and looked through the rear windshield as he reversed out of the spot. As soon as they were back in drive, he asked “So, what are your friends like?”

“They’re really great,” Anna answered, simply. “We balance each other out.”

“What does that mean?”

“You called me brave, earlier - they’d call me bold. Let’s just say I’ve made some...questionable decisions in the past, and they’ve always been there to help me get through it.”

“They sound like good friends.”

She raised one of her hands up to cover her mouth as she realized what she’d just said. “Oh god, I just realized how terrible that sounded. I haven’t, like, gone to jail or murdered anyone. College is the prime time for making mistakes, and I’m not exempt from that. Just a lot of drinking and partying.”

“I just want you to know that I wasn’t assuming that you murdered someone,” he laughed. 

“Well, I don’t know! I phrased it so horribly, a lot of assumptions could be made.”

“Don’t worry, you’re totally fine,” he insisted.

“Anyway, I met my best friend, Diana, in freshman year English and we had a lot of fun together. I haven’t spoken to her in awhile, though.”

“Because of quarantine?”

“No,” she sighed. “We had a falling out. I don’t know. I mean, I know, but it’s complicated and neither of us want to suck it up and talk about it.”

“I totally get that. I’ve never really had a best friend, but there’s always been some type of drama within my friend groups. I’m just the guy who tries not to take sides or get involved.”

“The problem is that Diana and I are both equally guilty in this case. I hurt her, and she hurt me, and we’re both being babies about it.”

“Maybe you should be the bigger person, then? If she’s really your best friend, then you want her in your life, right?”

“I know, it’s just hard,” she whined. “I know that it would be the right thing to do, but I’m just not ready to have that talk yet. My friend Amanda - she’s the one who I mentioned you to - is the mediator right now. Diana isn’t ready, yet, either, according to her.”

“I’m not really qualified to give you advice here, but hopefully it all works out for both of you.”

“Something that you’ll come to learn about me, if we continue to see each other, is that I’m very stubborn and very strong-willed. Diana has a similar personality, so we tend to clash.”

“Strong-willed, huh? I guess that sounds like you - I am driving to Dairy Queen, after all.”

She reached over and playfully shoved his arm. “Shut up!”

He momentarily took both of his hands off of the steering wheel to raise them in surrender. “Sorry, I was just teasing.”

“I know,” she smirked. “I was, too. Anyway, I trust my instincts, and I know that we’ll make up someday.”

“That’s good. Friends are important.”

“What are your friends like?”

“They’re just...very relaxed. Easy to hang out with - just meet up at the bar and talk for a while. I don’t really have a best friend, like I said, but I hang out with Ryder the most, probably because I live with him. And I’m pretty good friends with his sister, too. They’re good people.”

“We could always use good people in our lives. Your roommate seems to look after you, from what you’ve told me.”

“Usually I’m the one looking after him,” he corrected. “He’s only nineteen, but he’s a good kid. He was working his ass off when all of this started - two jobs and in school full time.”

“Wow, that’s pretty impressive. I could barely manage one job and school.”

“I give him a lot of credit. Just don’t tell him that I told you that.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for him we probably wouldn’t be sitting here right now,” she pointed out. “Give credit where it’s due.”

“You’ll have to remind me to thank him.”

“I’d also like to thank him, someday.”

“You can come over whenever you want; he literally doesn’t care. I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said he was chill. I mean, he’s been taking this very seriously, but he always preferred to hang out with his friends while playing video games, so it’s a win-win situation for him.”

“I wish I had that type of freedom in my own apartment,” she practically growled, crossing her arms over her chest. “But, I will definitely take you up on that offer.”

“And I can fulfill my promise to cook you dinner. You can even invite your sister, if you wanted to.”

“Ha, you’re cute, but she isn’t stepping foot outside of that apartment until the coast is totally clear. If she doesn’t want me to leave, she definitely isn’t leaving.”

“I thought you said the only reason you were able to come today was because she was sleeping and couldn’t stop you. She isn’t always going to be asleep.”

“Yeah, but I can sneak out,” she shrugged. “I’ve done it before and I can do it again.”

“Are you talking about rappelling down the side of the building or something?”

“I’m not a superhero,” she laughed. “My sister has a very strict weekday routine. She works all day in her room and doesn’t come out until it’s time for us to start dinner.”

“Wouldn’t she hear the front door close?”

“She also happens to wear noise-cancelling headphones so she can go to her zoom meetings without distractions. I just have to leave before she finishes her work for the day.”

“You really weren’t joking about being strong-willed, huh?”

“Nope,” she shook her head. “I’m very determined. So, what type of music do you like to listen to?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, trying to think of an answer. “I listen to a bunch of different stuff. I guess I really like rock music, but a lot of rock music is also considered pop music? I listen to a lot of older stuff, too, like Queen.”

“I guess that was kind of an unfair question, because I don’t have a straight answer for it, either. I like Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande. I mostly listen to pop, but I also have an affinity for music from the ‘80s. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun is my jam.”

He laughed. “That’s a good one.”

“Can’t take life too seriously, you know?” She giggled. “Anyway, next question.”

“Is this a test?”

She playfully rolled her eyes. “No. I just want to know more about you, and the only way to do that is if we keep asking each other questions.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Um...favorite color?”

“Ooh, I really like jewel tones!” 

He glanced over at her. “....am I supposed to know what that is?”

“Really rich colors, like emerald green and sapphire blue - named after different jewels.”

“Aha,” he remarked triumphantly. “See, I wasn’t expecting an answer like that.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“I’m fond of blue. And gray. Kind of boring compared to your favorite colors, but those are the colors I wear the most.” He took one hand off the wheel, and motioned to his gray t-shirt as proof of his statement.

“It’s not boring,” she assured him. “I don’t know why I expected you to know what jewel tones were. And I guess I made a good decision when I chose to wear blue today.”

“I guess you’re a mind reader.”

“Alright, so,” she started, clapping her hands together. “What is your favorite food?”

“Easy, pizza.”

“Mine is chocolate.”

“Does that count as a food?”

“I don’t see why not,” she shrugged. “I like chocolate everything. Chocolate bars, chocolate cake, hot chocolate. Ooh, and I’m definitely going to get some type of chocolate ice cream at Dairy Queen.”

“That’s why I asked if it counted as a food,” he laughed. “There are so many different chocolate things that it seems more like a flavor than a food.”

“Fine,” she groaned. “You win. Uhh...I’ll pick pizza, too, I guess. Or sandwiches. Or sushi - see, you should’ve just left it at chocolate. I love food too much.”

“You don’t have to listen to me. What do I know?”

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault that I like everything.”

“Do you have any foods that you dislike?”

“I’m not a fan of brussels sprouts,” she shrugged. “But I’m willing to try anything once.”

“Even something like escargot or sardines?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“How about liver?”

“Okay,” she answered, scrunching up her nose. “Probably not liver.”

“I figured, liver just seems gross. But, you’re definitely more adventurous with food than I am. I’m not picky, but I don’t think I’d be willing to try sardines or anything.”

“To each his own,” she responded, simply. 

“Once we pass this light we’re going to be at Dairy Queen,” he pointed out. “How about instead of eating in the car, we drive over to the park we just passed? So we can stretch our legs for a bit?”

“What a great idea!” She exclaimed. “What are you going to get?”

“I have no idea. I haven’t been to a Dairy Queen in forever. Probably one of those things they turn upside down to show you how cold it is or something?”

“Blizzards!” She yelled. “I love those! I’m going to get one, too.”

“I feel like that’s the whole point of going,” he chuckled. “You can’t go there and not get a Blizzard. It’s like going to Burger King and then not getting a Whopper.”

“You make an excellent point,” she said, as the car pulled into the strip mall parking lot. The lot was mostly empty, save for a few cars, and so Kristoff was able to park right in front of the entrance. 

“I guess we have to put the masks back on, right?” He asked, as he cut the engine and pulled his keys out of the ignition.

“Yeah,” she sighed, picking her mask up from where it rested and looping it over her ears. “I don’t mind wearing a mask, but I really can’t wait until we don’t have to wear them anymore.”

“We’ll get there, someday,” he stated, putting his own mask on, but for good measure, he added, “Hopefully.” 

“I feel really awful for the people who have to wear these all day, everyday with no breaks. I’ve seen so many pictures online and I can’t even imagine what all of those essential workers are going through.”

“Tell me about it,” he remarked, reaching for the door handle and pulling it open. He motioned for her to go inside and then quickly followed behind her. The restaurant was completely deserted, with the exception of the two employees standing behind the counter.

“Can I help you?” One of the employees spoke up, as they approached; they kept a considerable distance in spite of the tape marks on the floor.

“Just a second,” Anna answered, squinting up at the menu. Her eyes darted around the illuminated sign for a moment before she looked over at Kristoff. “I know what I want, are you ready?”

“Yeah,” he responded, and they stepped up to the line.

“May I have a small Choco Brownie Extreme Blizzard?”

The cashier nodded and pushed a few buttons on the register before looking expectantly at Kristoff.

“Uh, may I please have a Royal Rocky Road Trip Blizzard? Also small.”

The cashier nodded once again before gruffly asking, “Is that it?”

“Yes,” Anna said, digging through her purse to find her wallet. The cashier read her the total, while the other employee began making the frozen concoctions.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay?”

“Don’t be silly!” She insisted, sticking her credit card into the chip reader. “You paid for dinner, I’m paying for dessert.”

The cashier muttered something under her breath, and Anna glanced up and was met with narrowed eyes. She pulled her card out, and as soon as the receipt printed, the cashier hastily thrust it at her before stepping away. She glanced back at Kristoff, who was reading a sign taped to the wall, and most likely hadn’t noticed the odd exchange. 

A moment later, the other employee returned with a white paper bag. Anna took it, and thanked her before walking over to Kristoff.

“Ready?”

“Yup,” he answered. “Do you want me to carry that?”

“No, I got it.”

He reached out and held the door open for her again, and they stepped out into the hot, humid air. 

“It kind of feels nice out there after sitting in the car for so long,” he remarked, as they climbed into the car. “You still wanna go to the park, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, simply, staring out the window as he backed out of the spot and drove away. Her mind was in another place; she was replaying the moment with the cashier over and over again.

“You know, I was thinking,” he started, glancing over at her. “What a crazy name Royal Rocky Road is. It’s a tongue twister - try saying that three times fast.”

She let out a small laugh in response, but continued to look at the passing cars and trees. The rest of the short drive was quiet, and they arrived at the park within a few minutes. Just like Dairy Queen, it was practically deserted, with the exception of one other car in the entire lot.

“Do you want to walk around or do you want me to pop open the trunk so we can sit outside but not have to worry about finding a bench?”

“We could just sit outside for a while,” she answered, finally looking over at him. She hadn’t even realized that she left her mask on until she saw that he had taken his off. She quickly reached back behind her ears to pull the loops free, and placed the mask on the center console. 

She opened the door and stepped out of the SUV, clutching the bag in her hands. She walked around to the rear of the car, where Kristoff was opening the trunk. She placed the bag onto the flat surface and started to open it.

“Should we sanitize our hands again?”

“Oh. Yeah.” She dropped her hands away and walked back to the front of the car and retrieved her purse, before returning to him.

“Sorry, I wouldn’t have brought it up if I had realized your bag was in the front.”

“No, it’s fine, it just slipped my mind. Can’t be too safe, right?”

She dug through her purse in search of the tiny bottle, and when she found it, she squeezed a dollop into his waiting hands before taking some for herself and placing the bottle on the floor of the trunk, next to the bag.

“Thank you, again,” he said, as he rubbed his hands together. “I’ll have to get a couple of bottles to keep in the car. Normally they smell like alcohol, but yours smells really nice.”

“I got this one from Bath and Body Works - they have tons of different scents. You can keep it if you want, I have a bunch at home.”

“Thank you, but that’s okay. I’m sure stuff like that is in short supply right now, and I never really go anywhere.”

She nodded, deciding that she was going to leave it in his cup holder anyway; it would make her feel better knowing that he had some if he needed it. She reached back and opened the bag, taking out the two identical cups. The employee was kind enough to write the initials of the flavors they got, so they were easily distinguishable. She handed him his ice cream and spoon before taking her own.

“This is going to sound so ridiculous, but I wish they could’ve turned them upside down,” he remarked as he took the lid off of his cup. “Obviously they couldn’t, but it’s part of the experience. Or, it used to be.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, staring at the cup in her hands. The interaction with the cashier was still heavy on her mind; there was an insurmountable feeling of guilt that was bubbling up inside of her, threatening to spill over at the slightest provocation. 

For a few moments, they quietly ate their ice cream, partly because it was sure to melt quickly in the blazing heat. 

“Hey, Anna?” He asked, finally breaking the silence.

She blinked and looked up at him. “Hmm?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No! Not at all! You’re great.”

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left Dairy Queen, and if I said or did something -”

“No, you didn’t,” she cut him off mid-sentence. “I swear.”

“Is something bothering you?”

It seemed unavoidable now; she wished that she wasn’t so obvious with her emotions, but it was better to let it out than hold it in, right? “It’s just...that girl who helped us at Dairy Queen seemed upset or angry or something. She said something under her breath and gave me the dirtiest look and practically threw the receipt at me. I don’t know why, but I’m assuming because she’s working at an ice cream parlor, serving people like me, during a crisis.”

He looked slightly bewildered at her revelation. “You can’t make that assumption,” he assured her. “She could be angry for a million reasons.”

“I know, but that’s the assumption that my brain keeps going back to. In what world is ice cream essential?”

“It’s not, but you’re not the one making those calls.”

“It doesn’t help that she’s probably only making ten dollars an hour while everyone on unemployment is getting an extra six hundred dollars a week,” she pointed out, her eyebrows furrowing together.

“I agree, it’s not fair to anyone working right now. You didn’t implement that rule, though.”

“This whole situation isn’t fair. People had to cancel their weddings - that’s absolutely insane to me. Could you imagine spending months or years planning the happiest day of your life only for a virus to come and ruin it?”

He shook his head. “I can’t. But I guess if the love is there then the date doesn’t really matter? I don’t know.”

“Or what about the people who have kids? Could you imagine living with a kid, right now? I hated being home as a kid - I needed to go to school and see people, or go to my activities, or I would’ve gone crazy. How are people coping?”

“They have technology on their side, at least. We didn’t have tablets or anything when we were kids, you know?”

“I keep wondering - and this has nothing to do with you - if it’s bad or wrong to feel happy right now. Like, so much of the world is suffering, and I’m privileged enough to not be suffering, and feeling content with my own life makes me feel so…” she trailed off, her eyes downcast.

“Guilty?” He guessed.

“Yeah, exactly. Whatever this is could be a really good thing, and I want that - I want good things. We’re both healthy, but we’re breaking the rules to spend time together, and as great and wonderful as this has been, I can’t help but think about the people who haven’t been so lucky in this situation.”

“I don’t think you should think like that,” he said, simply. “I completely understand where you’re coming from, but you can’t blame yourself for what happens to other people. Some parts of life can’t be stopped or controlled no matter how hard we try.”

“I know,” she frowned.

“Besides, it isn’t like you’re one of those people who’s pretending that it’s over, or didn’t even exist to begin with. We’ve been following the rules - wearing masks, and cleaning our hands. There isn’t much else we can do; we can’t completely stop living. This pandemic is messing with everyone, even if we don’t realize it.”

“I guess it scares me more than I thought it did,” she admitted, biting her lip. “I have a lot of hope that this will all end, someday, but at the same time, I just don’t know.”

“I feel the same way.”

“And then, in all of this mess, I can’t help but think that we might not have met each other if it weren’t for this stupid pandemic - and despite my ranting, I’m happy that we did. I know we were joking about it before, but I keep thinking back to when I promised to shake your hand - or even when I tried to hug you, earlier. The only reason why I’m scared of doing those things is because of what’s happening,” she explained. “Everything feels wrong.”

“It may be socially unacceptable at the moment, but I’m personally okay with it because it’s such a small, calculated risk. We each live with one other person, and neither of us has even been in public in so long, you know?”

She didn’t answer. He seemed so rational and level-headed and calm, and quite frankly, she felt like a mess. There was a considerable amount of undeniable tension building up between the two of them, and although they were still standing side-by-side, she found herself staring at him. How easy it would be to wrap her arms around him, lean up, and press a kiss to his lips.

And even though he just expressly said that he was okay with being touched, she pushed the thought back down. It was absurd, almost - how natural it felt to be around someone she hardly knew, and yet be wracked with an asinine amount of guilt over the state of the world.

She shook her head, snapping herself out of the trance that she was in. “Sorry for rambling, I do that a lot. But I really appreciate that you were willing to listen to my rant and I hope you don’t think that I regret coming out with you, or something.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he looked down at her and gave her a small smile. “We’re all bound to...feel things after being trapped inside for two months.” 

“Thanks for understanding,” she smiled back, appreciative of his sincerity. She quickly realized that continually pushing her thoughts away was certainly going to be a struggle, especially when he looked at her with such kindness. And for some reason she didn’t quite understand, she tore her focus away from him and placed it back on the cup in her hands.

[polygamyff]

36.

My heart goes out to Maurice, it hurts my heart so much. If it isn’t his disease then it’s him catching a viral infection, my poor baby has a fever now which then the doctor had to come out and see him because sickle cell and fever is not good but the tablets he’s having causes his immune system to weaken with it so now he has another tablet alongside the tablet he has now, it’s been a mess. I have been so worried about him, but he is pulling through, he does not want to see a single person. Shawn comes every day, he refuses. It’s been a week and it upsets me because he doesn’t really eat, he doesn’t touch his food that much. Reign doesn’t see him because of the fever, and me I have been sleeping in a different room but I do go to see him, he seems better than he has previous days but let’s just say god is really teaching him a lesson but it’s hurting me to see. Hearing the elevator ping, turning around, resting against the kitchen unit looking to see who it is. Well it is someone with heels on anyways, can hear those clicking away “oh” Ally jumped holding her chest, what does she even want rolling her ass up here like she own the place. Just staring at her, she slowly walked closer to the kitchen “is Maurice here?” she asked, she looked at me and then Reign and then let out a giggle “sorry, you both pulling the same face. She is really your daughter” looking to the side of me, Reign is sat in her booster seat on the kitchen unit. Reign looked up at me, my smile grew and so did hers “you mean mugging like me?” she is my love “uhm yeah, he is in the room but is he expecting you or what?” I feel like Maurice’ security questioning people “well he called me, he said he needed to speak to me, or I wouldn’t have come. I have to go to Tokyo with his dad, so I just made time to come here, for him” nodding my head “that is fine, he is in his room. I think he is actually expecting you to come too” I pointed down the hall “thanks” she walked off, I don’t like the bitch but she really does go out of her way for him, she does all of his work. His dad is going Tokyo on his behalf with Ally, he can’t even be bothered to do any work if we being real, I feel he is getting depressed and I hate it, I hate being in separate rooms but I don’t want to be ill for Reign or him “what are we like Reign, apparently we both mean mugging her. We out here protecting your daddy” she has really been my rock; I love her so much.

Furrowing my eyebrows seeing a withheld number calling me, let me pick up anyways “hello?” I answered, “hi it’s King’s County hospital, it’s Melanie?” letting out an oh “oh yeah, sorry. I just didn’t see no number, so I was not sure who, hope you’re well?” I hope it’s good news “it’s ok, well I have some good news for you as well as maybe not so good news for you, we were very happy with you. We are amazed how young you are, we spoke on that didn’t we. Well we want to offer you the position of being the associate specialist surgeon, working alongside the consultant, how do you feel about this?” I don’t want to cheer right now “wow, I honestly thought I wasn’t that good at interviews, I am shocked. Wow, thank you!” I giggled, I am so happy “we contacted the hospital in California, they had nothing but praise for you” my face dropped, I never said anything to them “we are most happy to have you here, we are happy to have you part time, in terms of shifts but we do need you to be on call during the week. As we have someone on call during the weekend, that is the bad news, about the on-call situation, what do you think to that?” least I will get weekends off, weekdays working maybe on-call “I am fine with that, that is brilliant, oh my god. I am emotional right now but thank you! When do I exactly start?” flicking the tear that fell “next month, is that ok for you? We will sort out the paperwork then, we have some things we need to send out to you, where do we send them? Is the Anaheim address fine?” I am stuck here, I won’t be home “uhm no, do you know where Davenport hotel is? The address?” I didn’t want to really expose that who I am with “oh yes I do, I can send it there?” I laughed nervously “yes, could you put it to the attention of Maurice Davenport, that is the only way I know I will get it?” the phone line went silent “oh, uhm. But it’s for you?” she questioned “I know, that is how it will get to me in his suite. I am living here until I get an actual home” she let out a big oh “right, ok. You’re living with the Maurice Davenport? Oh ok, ok. I see, ok. Sure. I will get that sent to you; I should have known. I thought I seen your face before, well I will get that sent to you. See you soon” this is what I didn’t want but it’s happened “it’s ok, see you soon. Bye” disconnecting the “yess!!!!” I shouted “baby girl, I got the job. Mommy will be working again; she will be saving lives again! I am so happy” clapping my hands, Reign is not amused at all “bye Robyn!” I stopped mid-clap seeing Ally “oh yeah, bye” she probably thinks I am crazy now.

I made Maurice some soup, I try with him everyday and the bear minimum I am giving him now is soup “is Reign asleep?” he asked “she is, now I am all yours” placing the tray on his lap “we going to try and eat yes? I did this all from scratch, it’s chicken soup for you. Then you can have your medication and sleep” walking to the corner and grabbing the chair “it does smell nice” I grinned at him “anything for you, what did she want anyways? I mean Ally” sitting down “just work-related stuff, she is doing me so proud. She said I look like shit” Maurice looked over at me laughing “you do, she is right. Your beard, hair, your face. You just won’t eat, but you’re smiling still. Makes me happy, so eat now” I have to sit here and watch him, like a child “I am feeling better, the fever that is. You can sleep with me again?” poking my lips out “you miss me in bed huh?” he nodded his head as he poked his lips out, and bought the spoon up to his lips “you do look better, than you did. I will sleep in bed with you but if you are lying and I catch it. I won’t be happy” he shook his head “I’m not” he placed the spoon back as he started to sob out “hey, stop it. Maurice don’t cry” getting up from the chair “every day you are crying now, stop it” wrapping my arms around his head, bringing his head close to my chest “stop, baby it will get better. Don’t worry, I will always be here for you” I don’t’ like him crying, he does this every day.

Lowkey I am not wanting to get ill so if he is not well and he is lying, I will be annoyed but I did check his temperature and it has gone down so I think all should be well “feeling sleepy? I got something to tell you before you sleep” Maurice’ eyes are half closed; he is about ready to go to sleep. He cleared his throat “I am awake yeah, I am listening” I grinned at him, he is so cute “well” crawling onto the bed “I got a phone call from, guess who?” shuffling closer to him “mhmm your mom?” shaking my head “nope, why did I come New York for? The real reason before this?” getting under the covers “me?” shaking my head “this is not working, baby you got memory loss too?” Maurice snorted laughing “probably, what is it?” he is so useless “Kings County hospital, baby they gave me the job. I got the job!” I yelped out “oh wow, really? I am so happy for you Bonita, you got it. So, you going to be saving people again?” nodding my head “I will be saving lives again, I start next month so I need to prepare but the terms are. I must be on-call on weekdays, I am part time, but I get weekends off, perfect right? I am not sure with the on-call part, may be difficult with Reign but I will work it out, won’t we?” Maurice nodded his head “we will, somehow. I am very happy for you; I mean I don’t sound it but I am. I’m proud of you, what you have become. I am lucky” I cooed out “thank you, I know you are proud of me” pressing a kiss to his shoulder “how are you feeling anyways?” his hair and beard are a overgrown mess, pushing down his beard with the back of my hand “tired, I am glad I’m not needing the injections, tablets are kicking in but I just feel like it’s one thing to another. You are looking after me like a baby, it’s not right. You know?” I shushed “It’s ok, the doctor said that the feeling in your dick should be back soon. You really been unwell, and it doesn’t help. Let me say it, it doesn’t help you don’t eat. Is it the tablets? What is it? You have lost so much weight, you look like the times you were on drugs” he shook his head “I want to sleep now, hug me. I missed you” smiling at him lightly “fine” kissing his cheek.

Side eyeing Maurice, there is a reason why I slept in a different room also. Since his fever, and all the issues. He fucking snores, and it’s really fucking bad. It’s like four in the morning and I am awake, it’s ok for him but for me no. I groaned out shuffling out of bed, I am going to another room and sleeping in peace. I huffed out walking around the bed, I am annoyed but he’s still my baby. Walking over to him, placing my index finger and middle fingers just under his neck at the side of his windpipe, let me check his pulse if he is ok. I must check this; I just don’t want to leave the bed, but I can’t stand the snoring. Trust him to stop snoring while I am doing this “mhmm perfect” I said to myself, let me go and take my ass to the other bedroom. Dragging open the door, I abruptly stopped walking after seeing rose petals on the floor “huh” looking at a sleeping Maurice and then the floor, I had to double take because he is in bed with me and then this “mhmm” slowly creeping out of the bedroom, ok this is creepy because he has been asleep and he couldn’t have done this. Following the rose petals slowly, do I have a secret admirer that has broke in and done this, I kid but this is cute and I am walking way too slow because I am lowkey scared. Peaking around the corner “oh wow” looking up at the ceiling, there is a dozen red and white balloons and then Robyn balloons in the corner, one of the balloons has the remote hanging from it. Walking into the room “oh my god” is this really mine, the rows upon rows of bags and shoes to match “oh my god” placing my hand over mouth “I love bags, oh my god!” placing my hands over my mouth “this is amazing” I am so emotional, walking backwards fully trying to take this in and gasped, my head hitting the remote.

I don’t even want to sit on the couch because the petals spelling out Happy Valentines day, I don’t want it but I am going to do it, sitting down on the couch. A sticky note to tell me the button to press too “Ok then” I said to myself sitting back, I am actually shook about the bags like what the hell, and the matching fucking heels, good grief this has turned me on so much. Pressing the button indicating on the remote, the TV switched on and then Michael Jackson – Remember the Time started playing “oh my” placing my hand over my mouth, he really pulled up the video of us at the wedding, like I have never seen this. I saw the pictures but the video, it actually caught us talking, I wasn’t even interested, not even a lie because he was so miserable “oh no” those Facebook messages, I thought he was calling me fat in Spanish “not the selfie, of course he did” shaking my head laughing “I hate him” I cooed out, we finally met in Texas, by mistake that is and I still didn’t understand but the Maurice I met in Texas I liked him straight off, we actually took group pictures. I didn’t think he would ever keep those things; he has.

Placing my hand over my chest, it’s really got me in my feelings “and then Reign came along, I looked a right mess there” look how tiny she was, I was going through it with Maurice but we was such happy parents “did I do good?” Maurice said, I gasped getting up from the couch and rushing to him “I love it” hugging him, he’s got me in my feelings “I love it so much, oh my god. Sorry” he’s out here on one foot, and I am attacking him like this “come, let’s sit. I love it, when did you do this? What the hell? And you’re awake?” I swear he was asleep “well I woke up when your fingers were on my neck, I was waiting for you to wake up, I had time on my hands Robyn” sitting down on the couch  as he sat down next to me, he sighed out “yeah so, I have been messaging Ally, I contacted Kellen, and also Leon. I just gathered everything and did it. Ally came earlier to just finalize, she really helped with me all. She also set it out, that was it. So while we slept, she did it because I couldn’t and now she has gone to Tokyo. But I am happy you like it, I thought about it. Trying to be romantic” grabbing his face, turning his face to me and pressing a kiss to his lips “thank you, I love it. Thank you so much, my pootie face, I love you so much” wrapping my arms around his neck “did you see my card?” I stopped attacking him and moving back “no, where?” he moved to the side a little “it’s in the beige Hermes bag, I think anyways” I am so in love with the fact he got me different colour Hermes bags but the same style “is this really all mines, I can use this on nights out” picking up the little bag “oh no that is Reign’ I have to show her love too” I snorted laughing “I think not, it’s mine. Thank you for that” grabbing the card “no, you let her have it. Sit next to me and open the card” he patted the couch; I will not give her anything.

Sitting next to Maurice on the couch “it better be cute” ripping open the envelope “also give Ally a raise or something, she didn’t need to do this at all for you. That is sweet” pulling out the card “noooo, Maurice! You didn’t!” I laughed out holding the card close to my chest “do you like it?” I can’t stop laughing “nooo, how!?” looking back at the card front cover, he has my surgeon picture they have at California “I really hate you, did Leon give you this? I actually look younger here, god. My cheeks, I hate him so much. Oh my god!” looking at Maurice trying to be angry with him “like look at me in this” holding the card up “you look beautiful, look at your smile. It’s so professional, you do look younger there” opening the card “you’re so annoying, seriously” I huffed out, like he really did this to me “read it, read it aloud too” side eyeing him, looking down at the card “oh god, I hate you so much. With your stupid bilingual ass. You really wrote half of this in Spanish. You want me to read it?” looking up at him, he nodded his head “fine” clearing my throat “Para Robyn mi guap?” looking up at him “guapa” he said correcting me “te, no I can’t do it. You read it” passing him the card “you need to learn; I don’t need the card. I know what I put. Para Robyn, mi guapa. Te quiero mucho. Desearía que te casaras conmigo? And I put, to Robyn my pretty baby, I love you so much, I wish you would marry me. Now you can read the rest” I can’t stop smiling, I swear I love him so much. He rested his arm over my lap “It is not your conversation that keeps me entertained but rather the way you look at me, it’s all the little things you do that make me stop and stare. The way you smile at me, that soft smile you give me to show me it’s ok” looking up at him as I stopped reading and we both giggled “you’re so cute Maurice” taking in a deep breath “with what you have done for me, I could never repay you. When I am looking into your eyes, I see all the love you have for me. I see in your eyes you care for me a lot. And you will do whatever it takes to have me in your life. These are the reasons you have seen me cry every night when you come to me” my voice broke, placing the card down looking up at him “don’t cry” he said “you made me cry, you know how much I love you. I will do anything for you” flicking the tear away “stop” I laughed as he tried to wipe my tears away “you want me to read the rest, I will do it” he took the card from me “I am so proud to call you my wife, you have given me a new lease of life and I thank you for that, you have given me a beautiful daughter. I am proud of what you have become, a surgeon. I tell everyone about it, whenever I get the chance, I am super duper proud of you Robyn, I hope I made your Valentines Day. Love Maurice” he closed the card slowly and looked over at me, I just remained with my hands over my mouth. Moving my hands back “I love it” I strained out “I love you so much, thank you” snatching the card from out of his hand and hugged him “you really shocked me, I didn’t expect it at all. I didn’t want to pester you about it either, but you been planning without me even knowing. I feel bad now” moving back “about what?” sitting back “I gave Ally such evil looks, I was looking like bitch leave, and she was helping you do this. Make sure you give her an extra bonus, or something. She does too much. I am so happy” he has really made my day.

I am so freaking happy, I am skipping with Maurice’ gifts in hand “you all happy now huh, I bet if I didn’t you would be bullying me with that stale soup” I gasped stopping midway “my stale what? Say that again?” Maurice laughed “I am joking, come. I want to see what you got me” he is such an ass, he called my soup stale when it’s not, I made it with love “well it’s hard buying for man that has everything, you know that right?” Maurice shook his head “don’t ever say that, it’s different, because it’s from you” placing the bag on the couch as I sat down “you like the bag, it’s all cute with bears” Maurice was so quick to start digging into the bag “aww you got me a bear with a heart on it, aww Bonita, I will put this on my desk when go back. I like this, she will give better hugs. I will name her little miss boo thang” he is so silly “thank god it’s not some foreign word, she is lucky” Maurice got out the next thing “I didn’t think your gifts would be this small? Wow!” side eyeing him, I hate it because it’s like am I doing enough. Look at the bags compared to this “what is this? Robyn, this looks expensive” peaking over the bag “it’s your ring, I mean as seeing as you want us to get married on my birthday. I got you the ring. I mean I should have given it you then but I want you to wear it now so bitches know you’re taken” Maurice looks amazed “Robyn, this looks very expensive, how much was it” he got it out of the box “you shouldn’t ask that, I got it for you ok?” he doesn’t need to know “this looks in the region of three or even four grand, please tell you didn’t? I mean it’s beautiful but still” I shrugged “I also get paid a lot, so there is that. Put it on, I mean it should fit fine. I stole one of your other rings” Maurice grinned “you do it for me” he held the ring out “fine” grabbing the ring, he held out his left hand “you’re such a diva, also I need to do your hand nails” I am always fussing “what if I am not well for your birthday?” placing the ring on his finger “then we wait, but I don’t want you to push yourself either. I also got you cufflinks, I know you like wearing them. They both have R and R on them in diamond, real diamonds. Open the card, but I don’t think it’s as nice as yours. You outdid me” that is annoying “not really, I like this ring and also you accepted to marry me on your birthday, that has really made my day” I love that he is smiling so much “come on boo thang, let’s read this card she got me” he placed the bear on his lap “I am kind of glad your snoring woke me, even though I hated you so much for it” he pulled out the card laughing “I’m sorry, it will get better. Aww look boo thang, your parents on the card. It’s momma bear and papa bear, I like this. It’s cute, I mean the surgeon picture is the best” he opened the card, I need to destroy that picture, I hate Leon so much “to my little pootie” Maurice looked over at me “you forever calling me that, how am I pootie? It’s just not logical” I giggled “you mad because I’m right, you forever pouting or being all moody, just read it” he is always stopping “ok, so to my little pootie. You have turned my life upside down, literally have done that and I write this with a smile on my face. You have loved me at my lowest, supported me when I needed it. When I look at the downfalls it doesn’t amount to the good times we have had, you have swept me off my feet and have never asked for nothing back. The only thing you want is my love, you are the most caring man and father I know. To see our daughter, get so happy to hear your voice, to know she will have a first love that is all I can ask. Thank you, Maurice,” Maurice chuckled “well she liked it, she put a ring on it” he held his hand up “thank you baby, I love it. And I do it because I love you” hugging Maurice.

I did have like some real sexy lingerie to wear but I need to keep that for next time, I am not about to upset him if it don’t happen even though he has not had the injections in a few days because he’s off it but I don’t want to upset him, I am not doing that today “the video is the sweetest thing, can I watch it again. Is it mine?” he nodded his head “all for you baby” Maurice has skinny legs anyways, but they are extra skinny “you want to go back to bed? You must be tired; I am so happy though. Thank you, thank you for waking up for me” I know he is tired “yeah, my doctor is coming today. Guess what though, I can put some weight on my foot now. Good right?” nodding my head “that is very good baby, come” getting up from the couch, he is wearing his robe and boxers, I just want him to start eating right again “do you like the beard?” he knows damn well I don’t, watching him get up. He stood up and he did put weight on his foot without flinching “it’s getting better, thank you god!” looking down at his body and then back up to his face, it does make me sad. When he’s having these crises, they take so long to come out of it and I hate it “you want to hold me while we walk slowly? Forget the stick” walking to the side of him, Maurice placed his arm around me “Just as long as you stand, stand by me So darling, darling, stand by me” Maurice sang, he is so cute.

[fanforthefics]

Barrie/Landeskog 42? Please?

I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having

Tyson likes to think he’s a bit of an expert on bad dates. 

It’s not from personal experience. Well, not just from personal experience; he’s got plenty of his own stories about it too. But mostly it’s because as a bar tender, he gets a front row seat to a lot of dates, and statistically, most of them are bad. 

He’s seen it all, really--from the ones that he’s actually worried about and has had to extract women from, to the ones where he has to go into the back before he starts cracking up. It’s an actual scale, one that he and the other bartenders --it started as a joke but Kerfy got weirdly into it and now Tyson thinks there are graphs, but he doesn’t question Kerf when he’s got that look in his eyes. 

Anyway, he judges the one in front of him now to only be about a 3.5, in his expert opinion. No one looks in danger of getting hurt or getting soaked in a drink, there are no crazy eyes involved, one of the guys involved is just...boring. 

Tyson’s not even being judgmental here. He’d seen Colin roll his eyes when he was serving him, and Colin’s the nicest guy there is, so if he’s bored then Tyson must be right. 

It is getting kind of painful to watch, though. It’s a slow night--not many people are out on a Tuesday--and so Tyson doesn’t have much else to do other than watch. Not to mention, well. The guy who isn’t boring is probably the hottest guy he’s ever seen. (There’s a scale for that too, with some sort of formula between hotness and amount they tip. Kerf really needs his white board taken away from him). 

Tyson’s seen him around before, anyway; he suspects that he works or lives nearby, because he comes in a fair amount both in work suits and otherwise, and he’s brought dates here before. The dates tend to be very attractive too, in the same way the guy is--like they’re out of a magazine. Tyson doesn’t think he’s ever seen a repeat, though, which says something. (Nate thinks it says that Tyson pays too much attention to the guy, but Nate doesn’t have to work long boring weekday shifts at a bar, so he can shut up). 

Today, the date’s hot, as usual, but Guy Who Breaks the Scale looks like he’s actually about to fall asleep. That’s not usual, even when it’s bad, he’s generally way politer than Tyson would be if tips weren’t on the line. Although maybe sex is on the line for him, so it’s sort of the same? But today, GWBS  is clearly fading, and his date is clearly...not. 

Tyson scrubs at the bar, a little, so it’s not clear he’s just blatantly using customers as amusement. It distracts him, so when he looks up again and GWBS is there, he almost jumps. 

“Hey,” he says, and straightens. Resists the urge to touch his hair, just because GWBS’s is so good that he feels like he needs the extra mile in comparison. “What can I get you?” 

GWBS leans over, looking sheepish and very charming, his blue eyes sparkling. “I hate to ask this,” he says, with a twist of a smile. “But would it be possible for you to, um, spill something on me in the next few minutes?” 

Tyson snorts. “Not usually the request people make of their bartender. Usually we do a lot for the opposite.” 

“Yes, but.” GWBS glances over his shoulder, leans closer so he can lower his voice even more. “If you spill something on me, I have to go home to clean it off.” 

Tyson can feel himself start to grin. “You know, there are easier ways to get rid of a date than ruining a suit.” 

“Yes, but this one gets you a big tip,” GWBS says, but there’s something about the way he’s smiling that makes it not a dick statement, just a fact. GWBS does well on the scale generally because he’s also a good tipper, so that probably helps. “So--”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes. I can handle a spill, trust me.” 

“I am,” GWBS says. "With my sanity, if not my life.” 

“Oh, that’s a bad deal, anyone’ll tell you that. I’m not big on the not driving people insane thing,” Tyson informs him, but GWBS just smiles again, before he heads back to his date. 

A few minutes later, Tyson goes over, ostensibly to clear the empties; he manages a pretty smooth trip and spill of some juice onto GWBS’s lap. He hopes someone got it on film, because it was way smoother than Tyson expected it to go--he mostly expected to end up in GWBS’s lap without spilling anything somehow, because that was how his life would go. 

But he doesn’t--he spills, and GWBS jumps up and starts patting at it as Tyson apologizes as sincerely as he can--he thinks about it as apologizing to the suit for its sacrifice to the cause--and the date is horrified and GWBS makes his excuses and leaves, but not before leaving a 200% tip and mouthing ‘thanks’, so in Tyson’s book it was a good night. 

GWBS is back a few nights later, with another date. She’s a very pretty blonde woman, but Tyson just gets the feeling that she’ll be low on the scale anyway--you get good at picking out bad tippers after a while behind the bar. He can see the date crash and burn, anyway; GWBS’s face starts out smiling and slowly horror comes out behind his eyes, though he keeps smiling. Tyson’s guessing a 5.3, though without hearing what she’s saying, he can’t quite tell. 

“I’m not spilling anything around her,” he says anyway, when GWBS comes up to the bar, something of that sheepish look in his eyes again. “She looks like the kind of person to give bad yelp reviews, and you can’t make that up with a tip.” 

GWBS pauses, which makes Tyson think he really was going to ask. “Also,” Tyson goes on, “That’s a one of your nicest date shirts and I’m not ruining it, as like, a service to the world.” 

GWBS grins crookedly--Tyson is definitely sticking with the nickname--and runs a hand through his hair. “Okay, do you have any better ideas?” 

“Yeah, it’s called, tell her it isn’t working and go your separate ways.” Tyson pauses. “Unless something sketchy is going on. Do you need me to actually get you out?” 

“No, it’s just--” GWBS sighs. “She’s said some shit, about like, immigrants? I didn’t realize...” 

“That’s gross, but yeah, I’m sticking with the ‘telling her’ plan,” Tyson says. He’s so rarely the sensible person in a conversation. It’s kind of throwing him. “That way leads to way better reviews for me.” 

GWBS makes a face. “I’ve had, um. Bad reactions to that, in the past.” 

“Sometimes you get drinks thrown in your face, such is life, bud,” Tyson tells him. “You might be too pretty to understand that, but us mortals deal with it.” 

"No, I mean. Once a guy followed me home anyway, to prove I was wrong?” GWBS explains, which, fine, that’s obviously creepy. 

“Ah, the price of hotness. I clearly know that too,” Tyson says, gesturing to himself. GWBS snorts, which Tyson thinks he should be offended by. “No, dude, I totally do. Who among us hasn’t been catfished?” 

“You--” GWBS cuts himself off, shakes his head. “Okay, but can you help me?”

Tyson sighs, but GWBS is very attractive and a very good tipper and Tyson’s kind of invested at this point. “Fine,” he says, “But I expect a really good review.” 

“It’ll be glowing,” GWBS promises, and goes back to his date. Tyson waits a few seconds, then grabs Josty when he’s coming around from bussing tables, because he’s always up for shenanigans and has no room to judge. 

“Talk to me and look very worried at that dude over there,” Tyson tells him, nodding to GWBS. 

Josty immediately narrows his eyes into his best worried face. Tyson solidarity FTW. “Guy Who Breaks the Scale?” he asks, looking at him. “What’d he do?” 

“Nothing, we’re scaring off his date.”

“Oh, sick.” Josty makes a shocked face, then looks again and points. Tyson nods. He can see the date noticing, and giving GWBS nervous looks. “We should get Kerf, he can do scandalized like no one’s business.” 

“And how do you know that, junior?” 

"What happens in the apartment stays in the apartment,” Josty tells him, and then gasps loudly. Tyson shakes his head sadly. 

“Yeah, we should totally get someone else out here, though,” Tyson decides. “More dramatic. Hey, come here a sec,” he calls into the back. He gets Colin, which is less ideal because Colin’s too nice to really play along. 

“What’s up?” he asks anyway, rubbing his hands on his apron. 

“Look horrified at that guy over there.” 

“Guy Who Breaks the Scale?” Colin asks. he doesn’t look horrified. “Why? Did he doe something?” 

“We’re scaring his date,” Josty tells Colin cheerfully, though it’s at odds with his dark expression. 

Colin’s face shutters a little. “Guys, that’s--” 

“She was being racist, if that helps,” Tyson puts in, and Colin goes angry. He doesn’t do angry often, because he does a lot of work to be mindful or whatever, but he does do it well. Tyson points again at GWBS. 

The date says something, then she’s getting up, and--yes, leaving. 

Tyson waits a few beats, then high fives Josty and Colin. “Nice job guys.” 

“Thank you,” GWBS says, coming over to the bar. He gives them all a grateful smile, which, Tyson isn’t at all jealous he’s sharing it even though he was the mastermind here, whatever. 

Colin looks like he’s thinking about giving GWBS a lecture on how that wasn’t like, a great way of handling problems, but also GWBS is a customer and so not someone lecturable. It’s clearly a difficult problem, so Tyson saves him by giving GWBS a Look. 

“A great review,” he warns, “To make up for us compromising our morals.” 

“Yeah, of course,” GWBS agrees. “I--” 

There’s a crash from the back. “I need to...” Colin starts, and Tyson nods and lets him go. Josty follows him, probably because the kid’s got a nose for drama. 

“Everything okay?” GWBS asks, and Tyson shrugs. 

“Colin’ll handle it if it’s not. The kitchen’s his domain, I’m not allowed in.”

“Why not?” 

“Because I get too involved.” Tyson makes a face. “Apparently no one wants like, a chocolate creation, and so I need to ‘keep it at home, Tyson’ or ‘do your job and stop experimenting, Tyson.’ I’m Tyson,” he adds, to clarify. 

GWBS snorts. “Yeah, I figured,” he agrees, leans on the bar. It really sets off his arms, which Tyson thinks is unfair, because he already broke the scale. “I’m Gabe.” 

“Oh, sick, a name. Definitely better than your nickname.” 

“I have a nickname?” 

“No.” 

Gabe’s eyebrows raise. “Really?” 

“Yes,” Tyson lies. He’s a very bad liar, though, and so Gabe keeps looking at him. “Look, you already promised a good review, you can’t take it back now. Also you just had us scare a girl away, you don’t have any moral high ground here.” 

“Fair enough,” Gabe agrees. “What’s my nickname?“

Tyson sighs. He probably shouldn’t be saying this, but it’s not like he has a choice now. And also, Tyson’s not great at not saying things. “GWBS.” 

“And it stands for....” 

“Guy who breaks the scale,” Tyson admits. He knows he’s red. “We’ve got this whole like, scale formula thing, for hot customers who tip well, and you, well--” Gabe’s grinning, looking very pleased. “You got the nickname before all this,” Tyson warns, quickly. “So we didn’t factor that in.” 

“How high does the scale go?” Gabe asks, sounding very cocky. 

“Look, I don’t even know,” Tyson says, because it’s true and he’d rather say that than admit anything else. “Kerf set it up, and he’s like into numbers and shit and it’s way more complicated than it needs to be. I lobbied for a scale of like, Old Leo to Young Leo, but Kerf won.” 

“And where would I be on your scale?” Gabe asks. He’s still looking awfully smug, which is unfortunately but not unpredictably a very good look on him, all twinkly eyes and warm smile and broad shoulders. 

“Dude, no one compares to young Leo,” Tyson tells him, which is definitely true, even if he thinks Gabe’s still pretty close to breaking his scale. “That’s just, like, a universal truth. Also, you get points off for never going on second dates.” 

Gabe draws back, a little. “I go on second dates.” 

“Bud, you bring your dates here, and I see how many there are, and no one comes twice,” Tyson tells him. Gabe’s going a little red, which is a nice change. “No judgment, customer is always right and you do you or whatever, but--” he stops himself before he implies a customer is bad in bed, because he thinks that’s probably crossing some sort of line. He’s never been great at those sort of things, but he thinks Colin wouldn’t approve which is basically his benchmark. 

“Glad to know I’m so entertaining,” Gabe says at least, a little more stiffly. Tyson snorts. 

“You aren’t nearly the most interesting person, don’t worry. There’s this guy who comes in with his own like, miniature wine glass, i don’t know where he gets it from--” Gabe doesn’t seem like he’s prepared to stop Tyson, so Tyson keeps going, telling stories about the weird people who come to bars--Nate insists that Tyson just attracts all the weirdos, which Tyson hopes but isn’t sure isn’t true--until someone actually wants a drink and he has to go deal with that. 

Gabe leaves before he’s done, but the next day Josty informs him that there is a glowing review on Yelp for the bar, complete with specific praise for how accommodating the barstaff is for out of the box requests, so like, Tyson’ll take it. 

///

Now that he knows Gabe’s name, though, things sort of change. Or maybe it’s now that Gabe’s recognized Tyson out of all the other bartenders. Whatever it is, Gabe’s dates don’t slow down, but he seems to have a lot more trouble getting rid of them. Tyson suspects he just finds it easier to have Tyson do it than to risk doing it himself, because he doesn’t like looking ridiculous. Either that, or he likes Tyson looking ridiculous, which is fair, Tyson knows it’s pretty amusing. 

So they get into a bit of a habit, and it starts getting easier--they develop a series of signals, for when Gabe wants Tyson to break in, which includes everything from tapping the edge of his glass (get ready this might be bad) to desperate looks (please do something ASAP before I throw something). Not that Gabe always uses them, or anything. Sometimes he comes in on a date and leaves with that person, and Tyson doesn’t wonder, you know. Anything at all about what happens after. No one comes in twice, anyway. 

And sometimes, Gabe’s date leaves and then he wanders over to the bar, sits there and bugs Tyson as he’s working and tries to get Tyson to give him free drinks, even though it’s not like he can’t pay for them and anything Tyson gives for free comes out of his pay. It’s--nice. Gabe’s funny and much weirder than his looks make him seem and he laughs a lot at Tyson but he eggs him on, too, banters with him, which is a trait Tyson enjoys in a friend. Also sometimes he tilts his head right and sort of blinds Tyson with his hotness, but that’s an occupational hazard, Tyson thinks. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” Gabe says one night, after Tyson managed to get his date away after a record twenty minutes. He stares mournfully at his glass like the end of the world is in it. “I’ll never find love.” 

Tyson rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure. If someone who looks like you can’t find love, good luck for the rest of us.” He doesn’t have time for Gabe’s self pity today; a big party of post-happy hour crowd just came in and he has to deal with them. He circles back to Gabe a little later; the drink is significantly lower. 

“No, you were right,” Gabe tells him. “I don’t go on second dates. It just--no one ever clicks, you know? It’s never...right with someone. Even when it’s fun, there’s no...” he trails off, bringing his fingers together. Tyson rolls his eyes even harder. 

“Maybe there’s a reason for that.” 

“Yeah, that I’m going to die alone and unloved by anyone except my dog,” Gabe agrees mournfully. “Because something in me doesn’t work for romance.” 

“Okay, first off, you’re cut off.” Tyson takes Gabe’s glass as he says that, ignoring Gabe’s offended huff of breath. “No one likes a negative nancy, Gabriel, get it together.” 

“I’m together,” Gabe mutters. Tyson ignores that. 

“Second of all, you’re not--there’s nothing wrong with you,” Tyson says, because that’s ridiculous. “You’re hot and funny and smart and charming, and people like that. I mean,” he goes on, quickly, “People who are like, looking. And stuff. And don’t mind that you’re also kind of mean and super overdramatic and don’t let innocent bartenders do their job.” 

Gabe makes a tragic face. “If I’m really disturbing you, I can go,” he says, reluctant. 

“Oh my god, Gabe. That wasn’t the--” Tyson groans, then grabs Gabe’s face, tilts it up so he’ll meet Tyson’s eyes. “There is nothing wrong with you, and you’re totally loveable. That’s not the problem.” 

For a second, Gabe just looks at Tyson, his lips pink and just a bit open under his beard, his eyes big and tragic. Tyson doesn’t know if he’s breathing. 

Then Gabe swallows, and tugs his face away. “Well something is,” he mutters. “Because I’m here.” 

“You want to know what’s wrong?” Tyson asks. Gabe makes an irritated grunt, which Tyson takes to mean ‘no fucking duh.’ “Fine. You always go for the same type of person, and that person is you. And clearly that’s not working, even as vain as you are.” 

“What does that mean?” Gabe demands. 

“Vain, it means you like to look--” 

“Tyson,” Gabe hisses, and Tyson snaps a rag at him in response. 

“It means that the kind of person you always bring here is--I don’t know where you’re meeting them, but they’re all a lot like you, like, attractive and polished and kind of boring.” 

“I’m not boring!” 

“You seem like it, though. And like, if no one was here to make you more interesting, you would be.” Tyson shrugs. “I mean, what do I know, I’m just your friendly neighborhood bartender, but it seems like maybe you need to branch out a bit in who you date. Like, people who aren’t just dateable but are also, you know. People you like to talk to, even if they aren’t in your league.” 

Gabe blinks, slowly. His head cock. “Leagues are bullshit,” he says, also slowly. Tyson hadn’t actually thought he was that drunk, but now he’s worried. 

“Easy for GWBS to say,” Tyson retorts, “Us people playing in the minors know better.” 

Gabe laughs, and it’s, as usual, way too fucking much for Tyson to deal with. Tyson turns away to go see if anyone else needs help so he won’t have to deal with it, but then Gabe’s reaching out, and his hand’s on Tyson’s arm, keeping him there. “Leagues are bullshit, but no way you’re in the minors,” he says, and his earnestness as he looks at Tyson is another thing that’s too fucking much, but this time Tyson can’t look away. 

“I--” 

“Brutes, stop flirting for tips and do your job, eh?” Comph throws at him, tapping his shoulder as he eases past him. Gabe’s hand’s back at his side, and Tyson can look away, can breathe again. 

“I’m, um. Gonna do that,” Tyson says, jerking a thumb at Comph. Gabe’s still looking at him, something thoughtful in his face. “Don’t drive home.” 

Gabe hums out an assent. He’s still looking at Tyson when Tyson goes down the bar to help someone else. 

///

Tyson doesn’t know how it happens, but somehow all of Gabe’s dates get even worse. Clearly whatever he said to Gabe didn’t work, because suddenly none of them are working out. He comes in with this tall blonde guy who Tyson almost wants to card, and they seem to be laughing a bit until everything goes wrong and Tyson ends up spilling a drink on Gabe; there’s another massive guy who very loudly, in a heavy Russian accent, declares that he’s there because he wants to see how good Gabe is in bed. Gabe goes red, and Tyson manages to get him away with by coming to Gabe with an emergency phone call. He hears Gabe call another guy ‘Naz,’ which Tyson can’t tell if it’s a nickname or not, but there seems to be some dog vs. cat controversy that ends with Tyson and Josty doing their ‘something is wrong with Gabe routine.’ 

It keeps happening, but Gabe seems less bummed out by it, anyway. He takes it all in good faith, and comes over to the bar and tells Tyson about how bad it was and steals all the bar food. It means he’s there a fair amount, which Tyson isn’t complaining about, even if, like. Maybe he’s getting a little confused. Gabe’s got to have better things to do than hang around a bar after his date is over. 

But apparently he doesn’t, and he keeps hanging around and they keep bantering and Tyson’s can’t tell a customer to leave, that’s bad etiquette. 

“You’d probably get more work done if he stopped flirting with you, though,” Colin says, not unkindly, when Tyson tells him all this before it’s time for Gabe to come in with his date. 

“It’s not my fault if I’m so easy to flirt with,” Tyson retorts, “That’s what keeps you in tip money.” 

Colin chuckles. “Sure, but he’s not flirting with Josty,” he points out. 

“Maybe I’m more flirty--no, I heard it as I said it,” Tyson says, before Colin can point out that that’s probably not true. “Whatever. He has bad dates, I’m not driving him away.” 

“Yeah, that’s why you don’t want him to stop,” Colin replies with an unnecessary amount of sarcasm, because even if he’s the nicest Tyson’s incapable of being friends with someone who isn’t kind of a dick sometimes. 

Tonight, Gabe’s date is another tall blonde dude, who’s missing a fair number of teeth, though his confidence doesn’t seem affected by it which makes it almost attractive. Tyson’s sort of fascinated despite himself. And despite the fact that very early in, Gabe’s face starts going panicky, and it just keeps escalating as long as they’re talking. 

“It’s something about horses?” Josty reports back to Tyson, after doing a round. “I don’t know, but Gabe’s doing the glass tapping thing.” 

As Tyson expected. “Let’s do the whisper,” he tells Josty, and they do. They definitely make eye contact with the guy, and do the best ‘get out while you can’ looks, but the guys just smiles at them and keeps talking. 

Okay, fine. Tyson can escalate. 

Except--apparently he can’t. An emergency call is met by, “If it’s an emergency why didn’t they call his cell?” which Tyson has no real response to, a water spill is met by “Don’t worry about it, I can help with that,” which gets Gabe to shudder a little at the guy’s almost predatory grin. Tyson pulls out all his tricks, one after the other, and none of them work. 

“I think he might have you beat,” Comph says, from where he’s stuck his head out to watch, because Josty is a dirty gossip. 

“I will not be beat,” Tyson tells him. He has a reputation to maintain. Also, Gabe’s getting desperate face. 

Desperate times, desperate measures. Tyson squares his shoulders, walks over to where Gabe and his date are talking. They both stop talking, look at him--and Tyson grabs Gabe’s face and kisses it. Gabe apparently gets the play fast; he pushes into it, his hand around Tyson’s neck, and it’s all--Gabe’s beard scratches at Tyson’s cheeks and his lips are warm and he’s a good kisser of course he is even when it’s not like, anything not okay for a bar and Tyson maybe made a huge miscalculation here. 

Gabe’s hand keeps him there a second longer after Tyson lets him go, then drops, and then it’s just Gabe staring up at Tyson, his mouth a little open. “Tyson?” he breathes, and--he must know the play, he’s good, no one will stay when their date says someone else’s name like that. Tyson’s gaze darts over to the guy--who’s grinning. 

“Fucking finally!” he says, clapping a little. “Gabe was running out of people he could call.” 

“Um.” Tyson is confused. “I’m confused.” 

“Yeah, Gabe said you weren’t the fastest on the uptake, but you got there in the end,” he says, and pats Tyson on the shoulder. 

“I’m not fast on the uptake?” he demands of Gabe, then, “Wait. No. Actually. What the actual fuck is happening?” 

“Um.” Gabe runs a hand through his hair, looking as sheepish as he had that first night. “This is EJ. He’s a--friend of mine.” 

“A friend,” Tyson repeats. 

“Nice to meet you,” the guy--EJ--says. He’s still grinning. It’s a little demonic. Tyson thinks that he’d probably likes this guy.

“A friend,” Tyson repeats. “Not a date.” 

“Well, that depends--” 

“What, exactly, does it depend on, Gabriel?” Tyson asks. He feels like a joke is happening to him and he’s not in on it, and he hates that feeling more than maybe anything. “Because it seems to me like you’re on a date or you’re not, and you were giving me date signals but he--” Tyson jabs a finger at EJ “--is not a date.” 

“Oh, I was given strict instructions to go on a date with Gabe,” EJ says. Gabe looks like he wants to clap a hand over EJ’s mouth, but Gabe’s time for talking is over. “A very bad one. I think I managed it pretty well.” 

“You--had him go on a bad date with you?” Tyson repeats, staring at Gabe. “Is that--I thought that cat versus dog thing seemed made up!” 

“No, Naz really thinks cats are better, I don’t get it,” Gabe says, a little hopeful, like he wants to distract Tyson into that argument. 

“That’s not even a little--what the fuck, Landeskog?” 

“I’ll leave you two crazy kids to it,” EJ stands up, pats Tyson on the shoulder again. “Get him, tiger,” he tells Gabe, then heads to the bar. Tyson can just see Josty hand him a beer before he stops paying attention to that. 

“What the fuck?” he repeats. “Have you been--why have you been getting your friends to come on bad dates with you? Has it all been just like, some weird performance art where you see if people will humiliate themselves for you? Are there like, cameras here, or--” 

“What? No. No, it’s not--” Gabe’s hands on Tyson’s arm again, but it’s a lot less awesome now. “No, Tyson, it’s nothing like that.” 

“Then why?” Tyson demands again. 

“Because--fuck, it gave me an excuse to talk to you,” Gabe says. Tyson can feel his eyebrows shoot up fast enough he’s a little afraid he’ll lose them. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I have a bad date, you help me, we hang it, it’s our thing, right?” Gabe says. 

“You know you’re allowed to just come into a bar, right?” Tyson asks. “And like, talk to me? That’s a thing you can do?” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t just want to talk,” Gabe retorts, fast. his cheeks are sort of red. 

Tyson take a second, but he thinks he might get what’s going on here. It doesn’t make him any less confused. “So you got your friends to pretend to go on bad dates with you so you could flirt with me?” Gabe’s definitely red, but he doesn’t deny it. “Instead of, I don’t know--asking me out?” 

“I can’t ask you out at your place of work!” Gabe protests. “That’s not okay.” 

“But this whole thing is?” Tyson’s voice squeaks a little at the end. He thinks he might carry it off, though. 

“I wasn’t sure--god, Tyson, you were cute and smart and funny and hanging out with you was the best part of any date, but you had to make the first move.” Gabe’s giving Tyson big eyes, like that’ll help Tyson understand. It is, annoyingly, a little convincing. Also, the compliments are probably helping too. “It’d be creepy otherwise, but I needed an excuse to keep coming in. And then EJ decided he wanted to escalate to see what you’d do, because he’s an asshole.” 

“Let’s watch who we’re calling assholes when we’ve just been caught red handed, eh?” Tyson suggests, and Gabe snorts and shakes his head. 

“Okay, but you’ll see, EJ really is an asshole.” His face changes, then, softens. “I really didn’t--I just wanted to figure out how you felt before I did something creepy, that’s all.” 

“And this is what you came up with?” Tyson waves a hand at the bar. But--Gabe is looking sheepish but he’s still so hot, and Tyson remembers how he felt kissing him, and Tyson just really does like him a lot. And also, “You are really lucky I like shenanigans,” Tyson informs him, and Gabe perks up like a dog hearing someone bring out the food bowl, and takes a step closer. “Also that I’m into relationships where I’m not the only one who’s a mess.” 

“I’m not a mess,” Gabe protests, but he’s smiling bigger than Tyson’s seen. 

“Trust me, I’m an expert on messes and I’ve seen you try to date, you really are,” Tyson informs him. Gabe’s still just looking at him, all intense and shit, and so Tyson keeps talking. “And you are taking me on a date that isn’t here. I know it’ll be hard to branch out, but I believe you can manage--” 

“Yes. When?” Gabe asks, cutting Tyson off, and Tyson gulps down air. So. That’s happening. 

“He doesn’t work tomorrow,” Josty inserts from the bar.

“What a coincidence, Gabe’s free tomorrow evening too,” EJ says. 

“Tomorrow, then?” Gabe asks. He’s grinning a little wryly, like he understands that this whole thing is ridiculous, but also like he’s having fun with it. He really does break the scale, Tyson thinks, only a little annoyed. 

“Anywhere but here. And I know your tricks to get out of bad dates, so--” 

“No escaping this time.” 

“You know, I think that sounds more like a threat than you want going into a date,” Tyson starts, and Gabe’s laugh cuts him off, but, yeah. He doesn’t think it’s going to be a bad date either. 

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Book 4 : Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 43)

Description: There is no rest for the good.

Um...yeah. Hope nobody hates me at the end of this chapter. At least it came out faster than the last one, right? :-P

Tagging: @endlesshero1122 @mysteli @whatmcsaid @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @feartheendlesssummer @tigerbryn11

Chapter 43: First Blood

Tahira

The day my life changed, I was late for work. I missed my train and did my makeup on the bench while I waited for the next one. This Thursday morning, I'm late again. And I'm pretty sure that under the circumstances, Grayson will let it slide. In fact, I know he will since he explicitly told me to take the day off. But frankly, I think I'd rather be at work than alone in his apartment, especially when he has to be at work.

I didn't get much sleep Tuesday night after the fire. Unable to safely be treated for any potential smoke or chemical inhalation at the hospital while we were still in disguise, especially with Michelle still on her honeymoon, Dax insisted on dragging us into the lab at Prescott Industries and running tests. Marci had cleared me of any damage long before I even arrived, but Dax wanted to be safe rather than sorry, and Grayson agreed with him, so I relented. Eva took care of checking on the kids, and claimed dog-sitting privileges for herself.

Then came yesterday. That was the real headache, and the real reason I barely slept last night, which is the reason I'm running so late this morning, and nearly took Grayson's advice to spend the day in bed. But here I am, on a bench at the train station, gazing into a compact mirror in my left hand while carefully brushing my eyelids with dark purple eyeshadow.

I hear the soft sound of unhurried footsteps on the platform and feel my heart start to beat faster. It's after ten in the morning, on an open-air train platform, on a weekday, and the next train is due in fifteen minutes. All of these facts should put my mind at ease about who might be coming toward me, but I guess I'm still on edge. I try to ignore it, but then the footsteps stop a little too close to me. I let my gaze slide away from the compact to find Caleb standing over me, arms folded, glowering. I scowl back.

“Can I help you with something?”

“If what happened to those kids is what your help is worth, I don't want anything to do with it.”

I feel myself slumping. I sigh, unable to look him in the eye. “...How did you find out about that?”

“Never you fucking mind how I found out about it. Doesn't even matter that I know about it. The point is that those kids are in foster care. Separated. And you let it happen.”

“I didn't let anything happen, Caleb!” I snap. “I wasn't even there! All I know is that the story somehow came out at the hospital, and one of the staff called social services. ...Once the priest recovers, he'll be able to appeal to get them back. Meanwhile, Dylan and RJ are still together, as are Ysabel and her brothers.”

“That's exactly what they didn't want, and you know it! And how long will it take before they're all back together where they belong?! Most likely scenario, they won't all be back together until Dylan turns eighteen!”

“What do you expect me to do?!” I snarl, getting sharply to my feet.

“Be fucking hero, maybe?” he growls back.

“By what, kidnapping five kids? Because that's sure to keep me in a place where I can do my job effectively!” I lower my voice as I step close to him, drawing myself to my full height. I'm already at least half a head taller than he is, and he knows what I'm physically capable of. I see him shrink slightly, but he doesn't quite back down. “For your information, my people are in pretty hot water with the DA for not turning you over to rot in a Prescott-designed cell for the rest of your life. You want me to risk the situation deteriorating further?”

“You don't need the DA.”

“Actually, I do. Not all of us are content to be anarchists and vigilantes. And if people like us and the police are too busy fighting each other, civilians are going to suffer.” I blow out a frustrated breath through gritted teeth, taking a step back. “...Why do you care so much about these kids anyway?”

His scowl deepens. “Why don't you care more?”

“I care more than I am letting on to you. And I'm probably letting on more than you're willing to see. Caring is what I do. Nobody's surprised when I care. But you've got a reputation that doesn't run toward caring. What about these kids has you so invested?”

He scowls, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You know fuck-all about my life, Tahira. ...We all start out as kids, don't we? Naked, bloody, screaming babies shitting ourselves because we don't know better. We all start off so damn innocent, just looking for someone to protect us and love us. But we don't all get lucky like that, do we.”

I don't really have a reply to that. He's right. What he's saying is correct. And while it doesn't exactly give me a complete answer, it feels like a lead in the right direction. Like Caleb taking a single brick out of his wall and giving me a narrow but significant look at what's underneath. Overhead, the announcement comes over the PA that the next train will be arriving shortly. Caleb turns his side toward me as I glance down the track at the approaching lights.

“...You're lucky, Tahira. You got a mom who loves you. Raised you. Stuck around. Didn't run off. Didn't get taken from you.”

“You're right. I am lucky.” The train glides into the station, sending back a rush of air that lifts my hair off my shoulders. The noise as it screeches to a halt would have swallowed anything else I said, so I wait until it has settled before I send another glance at Caleb. “...My birth parents died when I was a baby. I'm actually adopted.”

As the train doors hiss open, Caleb remains silent. I gather my things and climb on board, not waiting for a reply.

* * *

As expected, Grayson chides me for coming into work today. About halfway through the day, I realize I probably should have listened to him. Can't focus on anything, and it isn't hard to get his permission to leave work early so that I can visit Father Le in the hospital. I stop to buy flowers on the way, a bouquet of calla lilies and pink carnations in a pale blue vase. I get to the hospital and step into a room that looks like it's being converted to a florist shop. Father Le is propped up in bed, his rosary beads in hand, his lips moving languidly as he prays under his breath.

“Father Le?”

He pauses, turning his head to smile at me. “Tahira. Come in. Are those flowers for me?”

“Yeah.” I manage to find a space for them on the windowsill and set them down carefully. “Seems like I'm not the only one who had that idea, though.”

“My parishoners have been very generous. Come sit down.”

I do as he says, taking a chair beside his bed. “I hope I'm not interrupting your prayers.”

“There will be plenty of time to pray when visiting hours are over. ...I understand I have you to thank for saving my life.”

I smile a little. “Yeah, well, don't go spreading that around in here unless I come in costume.”

“Of course. You know your secret is safe with me.”

“...Do you remember anything about the attack?”

“What little I can remember, I have relayed to the police.”

“Right. I shouldn't press you. ...How are you feeling?”

He sighs, closing his eyes. “The doctors tell me I should make a full recovery.”

“You don't sound very happy about that.”

“I'm happy that I'll have my health back. ...But I have been informed that the children were placed in foster care.”

I can't help wincing. “...Yeah. But surely once your recovered you can get them back? Like, I know it wouldn't be easy, but you could apply to be their legal guardian, couldn't you? Now that they're in foster care, I'd think that would be your next move, wouldn't it?” When he hesitates, I can't resist reaching out to grasp his hand. “I mean, you'll try, won't you? For their sake?”

The priest sighs. His free hand comes over to pat mine. “Of course I will try, Tahira. ...But I fear I am unlikely to succeed. ...It has occurred to me that I may have been acting outside the law when I took those kids in. I don't know for sure what charges they could bring against me, but I didn't actually have legal custody over them. And since they already ran away from their first foster homes...”

I swallow against a rising lump in my throat. “...What if I put in a good word for you with the DA? ...Not that I'm exactly in her good books at the moment...”

Concern flashes across his face. Somehow, I know it's concern for me and not himself, and that somehow makes it worse. “Why is that?”

I close my eyes to clear the film of tears that's gathered over them, but only end up letting a couple salty drops leak out. “...I decided to put my trust in someone she thinks needs to be locked up.”

“...Do you agree with her that this person needs to be locked up?”

“I...I don't know. I've been giving him the benefit of the doubt, and so far he's come through, but...what if she's right? What if he's playing me, and he goes back to how he was before?”

“Life is never without hope, Tahira.”

I can't help snorting just a little. “I don't know how helpful that is, Father.”

“My apologies. Try this then: you cannot know the future. You cannot know if a person will change, but every person has the ability to change. Your forgiveness of any past wrongs he did is a gift you give, not because he deserves it, but because you want to give it out of the goodness of your heart. Your trust, on the other hand, is not a gift. It is a privilege that you have every right to make him earn. If his past crimes have earned him a prison sentence, he deserves to serve that sentence. But something has stopped you from handing him over to the police.”

“Yeah. Something has.”

“...Can you name what that something is?”

“Honestly...I have a feeling I can.”

“...Do you feel that you can tell me?”

I am quiet for a long moment. “...No, Father. I don't think I can. Because it's not anything that I think I could make you understand without revealing way more than I should about people whose secrets I have no right to reveal.”

“I don't need to understand entirely. But perhaps telling me what you can will bring you some clarity.”

“...I think he has a part to play in a bigger picture. He's...a part of what I'm a part of. I have to think beyond just laws and authorities. What happened to me that night...the thing that made me what I am...it's got a reach beyond anything I could have fathomed that night. I've learned so much about it since then, and...I need this person, Father. I need him on my side, within my reach. Because he's a part of this.”

“It sounds to me like you've made up your mind.”

“...Maybe I have.” I sigh, standing up. “I should leave you to rest. I have...things I need to take care of.”

“Of course. Thank you for visiting me. I hope I will see you again.”

“Hey, you can count on it. Promise.”

I offer the priest my brightest smile, but I leave the hospital feeling melancholy and exhausted. I feel heavy and too full and hollowed out and empty all at the same time. I just want to go back to Grayson's apartment and have him there with me. I want us to curl up in bed together and shut out the rest of the world. Maybe I should call him and ask him to come home. I'm sure he would. We could spend the evening together, just the two of us, order something to eat, watch a romantic movie, slip naked into the hot tub...

My phone buzzes in the hip pocket of my jeans. I tug it free and see Grayson's name on the screen. I answer, feeling myself smile as I put the phone to my ear.

“Hey, handsome. I was just thinking about you.”

“...Tahira...” Immediately, my heart sinks. Something's wrong. I can hear it in the way he says my name.

“...What is it? What's the matter?”

“Well...Dax has apparently been monitoring police radio frequencies or something...” He sighs. “I didn't know he was doing that. Did you?”

“Well...no. Not specifically. I'm not sure he should be.”

“Neither am I. But, that isn't the point. The point is that he picked up some chatter, and...it seems Dylan and his family have gone missing.”

My heart drops into my belly with a sickening splash. “Missing? Wh-what kind of missing? When were they last seen?”

“Dylan apparently went to pick up the others and walk them home from school, but they never made it back to their foster homes. Later, the police got a tip from a concerned citizen that he had seen five kids get into a black van. He wasn't sure there was anything to actually worry about since the kids got in without hesitating, but...he described the driver as a white male with shaggy brown hair smoking a cigarette.”

It's all I can do not to sink to my knees on the pavement right there. “...Caleb,” I whisper. “Oh god, Caleb, what have you done...?”

Jake

A few weeks ago, Alodia and I hired a photographer to do a little photoshoot for us at the beach house. Something sappy and romantic to commemorate the impending birth of our first child. It was a pretty fun day, even though obviously Alodia proved far more photogenic than me. I mean, I could hardly object to spending most of the time watching my wife posing and being her gorgeous self.

Honestly, in the chaos and emotional rollercoaster that followed in the weeks after, with the wedding and then the disappointment and worry that followed her last OB appointment, I had kinda forgotten about the photos altogether. Until Friday morning, the day I'm supposed to leave to pick up Sean and Michelle from the island.

The other half of the bed is cool when I wake up, but I can smell something mouth-watering downstairs. I inhale deeply through my nose. Yup. Definitely bacon. And coffee. Clearly, Mike or Diego must be up too, since Alodia hasn't touched a cup of coffee since she got pregnant, and I don't think Varyyn has ever liked the stuff. There's something else in the air, too. Something sweet.

I get up and throw on a shirt and a pair of pants, running a hand through my hair before making my way downstairs. In the kitchen, I find the coffee pot three-quarters full and still warm. There's also  pitcher of orange juice and a couple of chafing dishes on the counter beside a stack of three plates. I lift the lids on the chafing dishes to find plenty of bacon and pancakes. I sniff at the pancakes, and get a noseful of apple and cinnamon. And that's when I notice the rusty-brown cinnamon and sugar blend in a small bowl beside the dish.

I hear voices from the den. I can't quite make out works, but it's definitely Alodia and Diego. I pour myself a cup of coffee and wander into the den. Diego is lounging on the chaise portion of the sectional with the TV remote in hand. Alodia lies with her head in his lap, a plate of pancakes and bacon balanced on her swollen belly. She's using an upside down laundry basket on the floor beside her hip as a makeshift table for a glass of orange juice and a jar of peanut butter with a knife sticking out of it.

On the screen is an image of her on the balcony overlooking the beach. Her shoulders are bare, her modesty preserved by a white sheet wrapped around her body. One hand holds the sheet closed at her chest while the other cradles her baby bump and she gazes at the sky with a peaceful, contented expression.

“I like that one,” Diego remarks. Alodia wrinkles her nose a little.

“Hmmm...it's not bad, but that one little strand of hair is kinda driving me crazy. It looks like it's going into my mouth and I keep wanting to just brush it off.” She reaches lazily towards the screen, flicking her index finger as if she can will the offending hair off her photographed face.

“I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” I declare. I make my way to the sofa and set my coffee down on her laundry basket table before sitting down and drawing her feet onto my lap. She smiles at me.

“In the picture, or right now?”

“Yes.”

“Good answer. You are rewarded with bacon.” She takes a piece off her plate and holds it toward me. I lean over to take a bite, and look back at the screen as I chew.

“Are these the finished product?”

“Not quite. They're the initial edits of the ones Nora thought were the best. Found them in my email this morning. She wants us to go through and pick our favorites.”

“Of course, if your wife has her way, there won't be any,” Diego complains. “She's found something to object to in every single picture she's in.”

“Not every one!”

“Oh, right, I forgot. You like the one where you're in silhouette and we can't see your pretty face.”

“Just go to the next one.”

I sip my coffee as we go through about a dozen more pictures, and it's made clear that Alodia's going to be pickier about these pictures than I am. There are some she does like. Most of the ones of us together meet her approval, as do a series of very sexy shots with her nude and posed so that nothing actually shows. Though, unfortunately, my favorite in that series doesn't seem to impress her.

“I've got a simper,” she declares flatly.

“A what?”

Diego rolls his eyes. “She means because her lips are parted. Just because your lips are parted doesn't mean it's a simper, Allie. That's not a simper.”

“It is the simperiest simper that ever was a simper!” she insists, grabbing the jar of peanut butter and dunking a chunk of bacon into the brown goo. “It looks like I'm trying to make you believe that I'm moaning all sexily. Look, I'm even trying to give bedroom eyes.”

“Yeah, I'm not seeing the problem here,” I quip.

“You see, Allie? It's a sexy expression that does just what you want it to.”

“I don't like it.”

“Yeah, well, you're drunk on peanut butter. Maybe look at it again when you're sober.”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and looks down at me. “Did you get some breakfast?”

“Just the coffee so far. But since you mention it, I am getting hungry.”

“You should eat. We made plenty so you and Mike could get a good meal in you before you fly today.”

I feel a frown crease my forehead. “...You're still okay with me going? I know it's still a few weeks 'til showtime, but...”

“But nothing. You'll be easy to contact, and you're flying to the Caribbean, not Asia.”

“I'll be back tomorrow,” I promise.

“Yes, you will. And we'll be at the airport to pick you up. Now come here and kiss me.”

* * *

After breakfast, Mike, Alodia, Diego, and I pile into the car and Diego drives us to the airport. I'm glad Alodia comes along, even though the trip takes longer than it would otherwise thanks to our unborn child elbowing her in the bladder every twenty minutes. That combined with California traffic means that it takes about an hour and a half to actually reach the airport. But it isn't as if we're flying commercial after all.

The plane is fueled and waiting for us. It's just up to me and Mike to carry out the final checks and get her in the air. Mike gets our things on board—just a small bag each for a couple days away—and I give my wife a lingering goodbye kiss outside the plane.

“I expect this looks very romantic,” she chuckles. “A handsome pilot kissing his pregnant wife outside the plane before he takes off, against a California background.”

“Minus the plane, I'm pretty sure there were some similar pictures from our photoshoot,” I reply. I try to grin, but it isn't coming out quite right. “...I don't like leaving you. Not just because you're pregnant, either. I just...don't like leaving you.”

“I know.” She doesn't need to say anything more than that. She knows why. “I love you, Jake. To the stars and back.”

“No land, no sea, no one can keep us apart. I love you, Alodia.” I drop slowly to one knee in front of her, cradling her belly in my hands, and plant a slow kiss in the center of the swell, just above her navel. “I love you, River. Don't get too eager to come out, okay? Your daddy wants to be here to meet you.”

I gently rest my cheek against her belly and feel a few soft pats from tiny limbs. Alodia winces.

“I think she's a daddy's girl already. Feels like she's trying to get out so you can hold her.”

“No, River, I said not yet!” I scold mildly. “Not until Sunday at least. Give me time to get home and some sleep.”

“I hope she'll wait a little longer than that.”

“Hey, Grandpa!” I get to my feet, turning to see Mike waving at me from the plane. “The sooner we fly, the sooner we can get back, and it's a long way to Santo Domingo!”

I sigh. “Unfortunately, he's right.” I give my wife one last long kiss. “I love you, Princess.”

“I love you, Top Gun. Go on. I think I need to hit the bathroom again anyway.”

We finally manage to untangle from each other's arms and go our separate ways. I join Mike in the cockpit and set about doing my final checks. It's a few minutes before I happen to glance over and notice something grim and distracted in his expression that sends a brief shiver of unease down the back of my neck.

“Hey...you okay?”

“I...got a text from Rebecca.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You getting texts from my sister now? How long has this been going on? Do I have to lecture her about cradle-robbing?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “She's had my number since we sent Lundgren to prison so we could keep tabs on your dysfunctional ass. And how many years are there between you and Alodia again?”

“Ouch. Okay, what's she got to say?”

“Check your phone. She sent it to you, too.”

I'm about to ask what, but realize it would be faster just to pull out my phone and check myself. Sure enough, there's a text from Rebecca to both me and Mike.

Rebecca: Got word this morning, thought you guys should know. Rex Lundgren was stabbed in a prison fight this morning. He's dead.

For a long moment, I can't think of what to say. My first instinct is relief. Even elation. But I can't hold onto that. It's not that I feel any remorse that he's gone. But I haven't forgotten how the same information played out with Rourke.

“...You think it's real?” I ask softly. I know he knows I don't mean whether it's official or if Rebecca believes it. He shrugs.

“I want it to be real.”

“...Lundgren was only in with Rourke on the island out of necessity. He was planning to turn on him in the end...do you really think they'd be working together now?”

“I don't know. I don't know if Rourke could pull the same trick he pulled with Lundgren that he pulled with himself to fake his death. Or...the trick we think he pulled. I can't imagine Lundgren going along with that.”

“Maybe not. Besides, it's not like a prison fight isn't a likely way for him to go, right? He was such a goddamn bully, I'm sure soon as he got in, he started clawing his way to the top of the inmate heap.”

Mike looks over at me. “...You don't have to come. There's enough time to get another pilot to cover for you.”

“...I ain't keen on sending a stranger to the island.”

“I would still be there. I'd keep whoever it was away from the village.”

I do consider the offer, silently weighing the pros and cons. A big part of me thinks I really should stay here. Stay here with Alodia. But I know it would be so much safer not to let strangers on the island. Besides, Alodia has Varyyn and Diego with her, and Rebecca not too far off. I trust them to have her back. I don't really like the idea of Mike making the journey with no one but a stranger watching his. I sigh and reluctantly shake my head.

“I think we're making ourselves jittery. Come on. Let's not leave Sean and Michelle stranded. They got a flight to Tokyo to catch.”

Tahira

My team spends Friday searching for the children, trying to turn up any leads we can, but we're not having much luck. I've tried to reach Caleb using the number he's been calling me from, but it goes straight to a generic voicemail, and the police haven't been able to track its signal either.

“People who don't want to be found have ways of staying hidden,” Eva muses when I express frustration at our lack of progress. “Caleb's been evading the law since way before I even started stealing. And we all know this isn't the first time those kids have run away from foster care.”

She's right, of course, but it doesn't help. They're treating the situation as a kidnapping on account of Caleb's involvement, which doesn't bode well for him. The kids would be considered runaways otherwise, especially given their history. The most comfort I can give myself is to tell myself that they wouldn't have gone far with Eva still looking after their dog. But that even that doesn't help a whole lot, because I don't actually know if it's true.

I can't make sense of how cut up I am about the whole wretched situation. I want to shut myself in my apartment and keep the world at bay, and I haven't wanted to do that since Mom told me I came through the Prism Gate as a baby. Those kids are orphans because of a battle I was part of, but I can live with that. I didn't start that battle, and I did what I could to stop it. But this...what's happening right now...it feels like failure. And failure cuts like a knife.

Jake

It's a little after 7pm local time when we land in Santo Domingo, seven hours later. We'll spend the night in a hotel and then set off for the island tomorrow morning. I call Alodia as soon as we land to check in and reassure myself that everything's all right. I also tell her the news about Lundgren. She takes it...carefully, is probably the most accurate way to describe it. Mostly wants to know how I'm feeling about it. I confess my concerns, and she admits to sharing them. We end up spending about an hour just going on about nothing in particular, just listening to each other speak, reassuring ourselves that we're all right. During that time, Mike and I are able to get to the hotel, check in, order food, and have it arrive. At that point, Alodia admits that she should be getting ready to go to a dance class. Recitals are coming up in May and the costumes are starting to come in. We exchange 'I love you's and reluctant good-byes, and then we hang up. I eat my dinner, watch a little TV, then decide to hit the hotel's gym in an attempt to burn off some nervous energy. I exhaust myself on the treadmill, spend too long in the shower, and finally crawl into bed.

Sleep doesn't come easy. When I do sleep, I have a distressing dream that my sister is dying of some rare disease and she's only got a day left to live, and it happens to be the same day that I'm meeting the half-sister I never knew I had who's the result of an affair my dad had that he never told anyone about, and it all sucks because I'm devastated that Rebecca's never gonna meet her niece, and I'm not sure I like this new half-sister because she's kinda snobby. I wake up sweating, and it takes me a few minutes to convince myself that Rebecca isn't actually dying. And that I shouldn't actually call her right now because it's about 8am here and three hours earlier in California, and if she's not on duty, she's probably asleep. That's when I realize that Mike's bed is empty and I can hear retching from the bathroom, where there's a sliver of light under the door.

“...Mike?” Concerned, I push back the covers and flip on the light, wincing at the sudden brightness. I make my way to the bathroom and tap on the door with my knuckle. “You okay in there, buddy?”

“You want an honest answer?” he croaks back. I open the door and find Mike slumped over the toilet, sweat shining on his ashen skin and soaking through his undershirt. Another spasm goes through him and he chokes something up into the bowl.

“Jesus!” I grab a washcloth from the rack and run it under the tap, wring it out, and press it to the back of his neck.

“Thanks,” he mumbles. “That's...nice.”

“Just months ago, I was up with Alodia doing this every morning.” I frown. “But what's going on with you? Did you go get drunk after I fell asleep? Pretty sure you're not pregnant.”

“You're lucky I'm not up for punching you right now,” he scoffs, wincing. “I'm not sure what this is. Something I ate, or some kind of stomach virus. Didn't drink anything last night. Just woke up and I had to hurl.”

I gently ease him upright and put a hand to his forehead. It's clammy with sweat, but it doesn't feel warm. “Don't think you have a fever. Maybe that fish last night was off.”

“Maybe.” He wipes at his forehead. “...Think I'm empty now. ...What time is it?”

“Getting on a quarter after 8.”

He groans. “So no time to sleep it off before we hit the water. Never mind.” He starts to struggle to his feet and I move to brace him.

“You sure you should be getting on a boat if your stomach's off?”

“I'll be fine. If I puke again, I puke again. But I'm sure I'll feel better after I've had a shower.”

“Well...we'll see. I'm gonna go get us packed. You holler if you need me.”

He snorts. “Yeah, like I'm gonna call you to help me shower.”

“I'm serious, Mike. You know I saw worse than your skinny naked ass in the Navy. And if you pass out in the shower and crack your head on the tap, I ain't gonna worry about your dignity. I'll call an ambulance and leave everything on display for the paramedics.”

Mike gestures ruefully at the skeletal bionic legs and feet that descend from his flesh-and-blood thighs. Cutting edge prosthetics that attach permanently and use some kind of advanced robotics to communicate with the nerves that still exist in his thighs. Alodia has speculated that the Endless' right hand was of a similar design.

“Great as these are in general, they don't lend themselves well to showering without a seat most of the time. I won't be in any great danger of slipping.”

“You better not.” I leave him to it, returning to the room to gather our belongings. I don't hear any alarming thumps, but ten minutes later, I realize I can hear him retching again. I knock on the door again.

“Cover up, kid! I'm coming in!” I don't wait for an answer before I push the door open. The shower is still running, but Mike has a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, preserving his modesty.

“Wanted some water to rinse my mouth with. ...It didn't sit well.”

I shake my head. “Well, that settles it. You're gonna stay here and sleep this off while I pick up Sean and Michelle.”

“You can't go out there alone.”

“It's fine. It's just about a three-hour sail there, and then I'll have Sean and Michelle on the way back. I'll have plenty of food, water, gas, and life vests, and if anything goes really wrong, I can call the coast guard. You won't be any use puking your guts up under the Caribbean sun when you can't even keep water down. You know that.”

He sighs. “I guess dehydration in the middle of the ocean wouldn't be very helpful.”

“Damn straight. Stay in here with the air conditioning on and get some rest.”

“Yes, Grandpa.”

“I trust you're gonna know when to panic?”

He rolls his eyes as he gets to his feet, but he does offer a weak smile. “Yes, Grandpa. Now if you're gonna go without me, go. I'm gonna go back to sleep.”

Alodia

Diego drives me to the dance studio on Saturday morning. I'm capable of driving myself, but try telling that to a houseful of loving, overprotective men who saw me dissolve into stardust five years ago not to coddle me when in my last month of pregnancy. I don't begrudge them a little fussing, and letting them chauffer me around inconveniences them more than me most of the time. At least this morning, Diego isn't just dragging himself out of the house to be my driver.

“I've got a few meetings with students on campus,” he explains as we get into the car. “Midterms are coming up, so naturally everyone's starting to get nervous.”

“Midterms for you, recitals for me...remember when we used to experience these things from the other side?”

“I definitely don't miss midterms from the other side.”

“...I kinda miss recitals,” I admit.

He smiles at me as he pulls on his seatbelt. “I have a break around noon. Wanna get lunch?”

“As long as it's somewhere nostalgic. What was that place we used to go when we cut class in high school?”

“Waterfall Cafe. I haven't been there since the last time we went together. I don't even know if it's still open.” A quick check on my phone assures us that it is. “Then that's where we'll eat. I'll pick you up around 12:30?”

“It's a bestie date.”

* * *

I remember costume-fitting days being something close to magical when I was a student. The first time we pulled the costumes on, they were a work-in-progress, straight out of their bags. We endured several minutes of teachers and assistants pinching and safety-pinning fabric, noting where it needed to be let out or taken in. The elastic shoulder straps came attached only at the front of the costume, and they too were pulled snug and secured at the back with safety pins. As soon as we were allowed, we scooted away to do our barre exercises in our glittering tutus. We may have been full of safety pins, without headpieces or stage makeup, but we were getting our first glimpses of how we would appear on stage just a month or two down the line. And in the final weeks before the recital, the costumes would come back complete. As a child, I had no concept of the amount of work that teachers and volunteer parents had put into altering the costumes to make them fit just right, and putting needle and thread to countless elastic shoulder straps. They might as well have been completed by Santa Claus and his elves picking up some extra work in the off-season. All I knew was that after the second fitting, the costume was mine forever.

Of course, now that I'm a teacher myself...

“Hold still a second, Ji-hu,” I say for what feels like the fiftieth time as I try to get a safety pin into the side of his black-and-yellow striped tunic. “Can you hold your arms out to the side for me? Atta boy.”

“Bzzzzzz! I'm a bee!” Ji-hu yells, although his announcement is pretty much lost in the din of a dozen other similar announcements from his classmates who are already decked out in black and yellow stripes. At last, I get him pinned and give him permission to go running out onto the dance floor with his friends. I wipe at my sweaty forehead and rise to my feet, wincing a little.

“Are you all right?” I turn to smile at Olivia, the woman in charge of costumes for the entire studio.

“I'm fine. Knees are just protesting a little. All this extra weight is getting to be hard on the joints.”

“If you need to rest, you can go ahead. You've kinda got the perfect excuse, you know.”

I shake my head. “I'll rest while Vikki's getting them warmed up.” But I can't resist putting my hands to my lower back and stretching backwards slightly. “So, who thought it was a good idea to move the five-year-olds to the early slot on Saturdays, and who thought it was a good idea to give them the Honeybees dance? Not the same person, I hope.”

“Hey, you had your chance to veto the Honeybee idea at the meeting five months ago. Just be grateful you don't have Ivan's class set. His five-year-olds are rainbows, and for some reason, he thought it would be a good idea to let them dance with flags.”

“Oh, god! You can barely trust the advanced classes with props!” I laugh ruefully and sigh, steeling myself for the next one. “Megan, sweetheart? Come here and let me pin your straps!”

Jake

There appears to have been some sort of confusion at the docks regarding the yacht I'm supposed to be sailing to La Huerta. It gets cleared up in the end, and I am finally supplied with the Rourke International vessel I was supposed to have in the first place, but I lose an hour and a half in the confusion. I radio Seraxa to let Sean and Michelle know I've been delayed, and set off from Santo Domingo in a foul mood. I don't arrive at the island until after two in the afternoon, but the journey itself is unremarkable, and the sail calms me down. Sean and Michelle are all ready and waiting for me when I hit the dock, their suitcases already packed and piled up on the platform.

“Ahoy, lovebirds!” I call. “We're running a little behind, so if you guys wanna drag your stuff aboard while I give 'er a little more gas, that would be really helpful.”

Michelle frowns a little. “Is Mike not with you?”

“Oh, geez, did I forget to mention? Mike stayed back at the hotel. He was puking his guts up this morning, didn't think a boat was gonna be the best place for him.”

“You were probably right,” Michelle assures me. “Do you know what the cause is? Did he eat something off?”

“Not exactly sure. He didn't have a fever, at least not as of this morning. But he couldn't even keep water down.”

She frowns. “Well, that'll be concerning if it's still going on tomorrow, but it sounds like it could be as simple as a stomach virus. I'll give him a once over when we get back to Santo Domingo if you guys have time. When's your flight back to California?”

“Nine tonight. Though, worst case scenario, we miss it and call Aleister or Estela for a chartered flight.”

“But let's try not to make that necessary,” Sean remarks, gathering up a couple bags. “I'll take these down below.”

Tahira

I give myself permission to wallow a little on Saturday. I keep my phone on so I can be reached if there's trouble, and I at least shower and get dressed. But I otherwise stay curled up on the sofa in my apartment with hot drinks and finger foods, trying to read or watch TV.

Unfortunately, I can't really concentrate on my book and there isn't much that appeals to me on TV. There appears to be a marathon of superhero movies on my favorite channel, and that's obviously out right now. I try to watch stand-up comedy, but that doesn't get much more than a half-hearted chuckle out of me. I actually spend the longest amount of time on a documentary about the American Civil War, but I have to turn it off when it finally registers that the endless quotes from soldiers' letters are just making me feel worse.

Maybe staying in isn't actually the best idea. Although it takes some effort, I manage to stuff my supersuit into a messenger bag, put on my coat and gloves, and drag myself out of the apartment. I don't know where I'm actually planning to go. Maybe Grayson's apartment? The Grand? Maybe I'll just go for an aimless walk.

I'm about a block from my apartment when my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. It takes a surprising amount of willpower to make myself answer it. Particularly when I pull it out and see that it isn't a number I recognize. Before I became Dragonness, my policy was usually to let unfamiliar numbers go to voicemail, figuring that if it were important, they'd leave a message. But since we officially formed an alliance with the police, Dax has all our calls routed through some kind of service center that scrambles our numbers or something so they can't be traced back to our civilian phones, and in the process, that sometimes scrambles the caller's number too. I summon my energy, and thumb the green button.

“...Hello?”

“...Tahira?” The voice makes my heart wedge in my throat. I know this voice.

“...Caleb?!”

“Hey...”

“Don't 'hey' me! Where the hell are you?! Where have you been?! What have you done?! Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?!”

“Uh...are you alone right now? Because I can hear traffic.”

“It so happens that I am out taking a walk, not that it's any of your business. Answer my questions!”

“I will, I will. But not over the phone. ...I need you to meet me where we were both held captive. Come alone. And come as you, not Dragonness.”

I am quiet for a moment as I find a quiet corner to slip into. “Why should I come alone?” I whisper. “Why shouldn't I bring anyone with me?”

“Because I'm asking you not to,” he answers softly. Softly enough that I can hear a note of quiet desperation in him. “Please.”

“...Just tell me this, Caleb: are the children with you?”

“Yeah. They're here. They're safe. Tahira...I'm counting on you to be a hero right now.”

This feels like a bad idea. A very bad idea. But I already know what I'm going to do. “...Hang tight. I'm on my way.”

Diego

“I'll see you Monday, Danielle. Good luck with your other midterms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Soto. See you Monday!”

Danielle gathers up her things and heads out, leaving me alone in the lecture hall where I am holding my classes this semester. Sitting in a rolling desk chair at the computer, I lean back, stretching my arms over my head and giving a good yawn. That was my last meeting of the morning, and it went quicker than I expected. Now it's about time I get ready to meet Allie for lunch. As it stands, I'm probably going to be early to meet her, so I take my time getting myself packed up.

“Diego Soto?”

I look up to see an unfamiliar young man standing in the doorway. He looks about the right age to be a student—and he's dressed like one, too—but I can't say that I've seen him anywhere around campus.

“That's me. Can I help you?”

“I'm Gabe. Gabe Madigan. I'm just visiting this weekend, but I'm gonna be transferring here next semester. They told me you'll be teaching your course again next semester?”

“That's right. I'm here the rest of the school year. You interested in taking it?”

He grins. “Well, yeah. I wanna be a screenwriter, and I'd be pretty insane not to take the opportunity to learn from a best-selling author on storytelling in film.”

“I'm always happy to have another film enthusiast in the class, no matter who they are.”

“Actually, I...” He gestures a little sheepishly at the backpack secured on his shoulders, “I have my copy of your book with me. Could you possibly sign it for me?”

“I'm sure I can spare the time for that.”

I head over to the desk to take out a pen while he takes his bag off to search for the book.

“You know, I was still in high school when all that stuff in the Caribbean went down. You know, the whole thing with Rourke International...”

I pause for a moment before pulling out a chair sitting down. I hold my hand out for the book. “I certainly haven't forgotten.”

Gabe hands me the book. “Is that a sensitive subject? Sorry. I just remember how close my family followed the story. My older brother was a Hartfeld student at the time. He'd entered the Rourke contest. He was pretty pissed off he didn't win. But once the story broke that you guys had gone missing, he actually felt pretty lucky.”

I can't help shifting awkwardly in my seat as I flip the book open to the front cover. “I won't lie. It was a...harrowing experience.”

I put my pen to the inside cover page and scrawl a quick note: “To Gabe: I look forward to seeing you in class next semester. Keep writing! – Diego Ortiz Soto.”

I see Gabe gazing at the array of personal items I have decorated my desk with: the two action figures Vaanu gave me on the island, a group picture of the Catalysts and friends this past New Years' Eve, one of me and Varyyn at our Vegas wedding, and the picture of me and Allie on the first day of third grade—one of the pictures that first heralded her return. Gabe points to that one, his finger hovering over Allie's eight-year-old face.

“Who's that?”

“Believe it or not, that's Alodia Chandler. The student who went missing on that trip and didn't come back for five years. And that kid she's with is me.”

“She's the one you dedicated your book to. So you knew her before the trip?”

“She's been my best friend since we were in diapers.”

“...That must have been hard, losing her like that.”

“It was. It was the hardest thing I've ever gone through. ...For five years, almost everything I did, I did in her name. For the longest time, the only way I could let myself be happy was by reminding myself that she would want me to be happy. So for a long time, any ounce of happiness I could feel was a dedication to her memory...” I trail off, suddenly embarassed at having gotten so personal with a stranger. I close the book and hand it back to him. “But she's home now. And actually, I'm supposed to meet her for lunch soon, so I should get going.” I pull open the desk drawer to retrieve my wallet and keys.

“Alodia Chandler and her Catalysts...”

Every hair on my body suddenly stands on end. My heart starts to thump with alarm and my stomach goes cold.

“...Gabe, where did you hear tha--”

Before I can finish, I am pulled back hard against his body. His forearm presses against my adam's apple, and a damp cloth obscures my mouth and nose. I struggle, but he caught me by surprise, and I'm being held at a distinct disadvantage.

` “You know the problem with you lot—the Catalysts, I mean—is that you're all so...insecure. There's no challenge in exploiting your weaknesses, because you all wear them on your sleeves.”

I reach for my desk drawer. My keys are sitting just there. If I can get them, maybe I can jab them into something soft and sensitive on his body. But he sees where I'm reaching and drags me off the chair with a sharp tug. I feel the ground tilting beneath me as the room starts to swim before my eyes.

“Don't get me wrong, you've all shown marked improvement since she came into your lives. But you were still entirely too responsive to flattery. It makes you vulnerable, being so desperate for praise.”

My vision is starting to narrow, filling with static at the edges. The voice in my ear is becoming distant, overpowered by the rush of my blood against my eardrums.

“Don't worry,” he sings as I start to fade. “You will see her again. As long as she behaves...”

Alodia

My twelve-year-old class is not as out of control about costume-fitting as the four-year-olds, but no one is immune to the excitement of that first look at performance-wear. And as Graceful Willows, their shimmery green costumes are decorated with soft frond fringes that awaken their playful sides. Wrangling them and getting costumes pinned still takes time, and I start to realize about 12:15 that I might not be ready when Diego gets here. About 12:30, as I'm helping the students out of their costumes and carefully putting them back in their bags, I check my phone. No messages from Diego yet, but he's probably on his way. I tap out a text: Hey, things are running just a little overtime here, but I should be out soon.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm still clearing things up and I check my phone again. No new messages, but I don't think anything of it, I just send another text. Just come inside if I'm not waiting for you when you get here. Just getting costumes sorted.

Ten minutes later, we finally finish up. Diego hasn't come in, so I put on my jacket and head outside to the parking lot to look for him. At this hour, between classes, the parking lot is nearly empty. It doesn't take me long to see that Diego isn't here. But Divya Gupta is, sitting cross-legged on a bench, hunched over a book that sits open on her lap.

“Hey, Divya, can I wait with you?”

Divya looks up and smiles. “Sure. My mom's coming to get me, but she's running late. Says traffic is really bad.”

A sense of relief floods through me. If traffic is bad, that's most likely the reason Diego's late. He's also scrupulous about not texting and driving.

“I'm guessing my friend is stuck in the same traffic,” I remark ruefully.

“Is your friend picking you up?”

“Yeah. We're going to go to lunch together.”

“What about your husband?”

“He's away until this evening.”

Divya turns her face toward me, propping her cheek up in her hand. “How long until you have the baby?”

“Oh, not more than a few more weeks.”

“Is it gonna hurt?”

“It will probably hurt some,” I answer honestly. “But there are a lot of ways to ease the pain. One of the advantages to living nowadays.”

“...It's a girl, right? Your baby?”

“That's right. We're going to name her River Skye.”

“That's a pretty name. My grandma says she can't understand why anyone wants to know if the baby is a boy or a girl before it's born. She says it spoils the surprise.”

I chuckle. “My husband's father says it's like opening your Christmas presents before Christmas.”

Divya laughs, then turns her eyes back to the parking lot. “Oh, I think your friend might be here.”

I look up to see a figure crossing the parking lot—and immediately I feel my veins turn to ice. The figure coming toward me is not Diego. She is not a friend. But I know her. I haven't seen her in years. She looks different now, her long dark braid replaced with a stylishly layered cut, and a combination of skintight jeans and a leather jacket taking the place of her high-tech military uniform. But I know her. Familiarity is a deep, bubbling dread in my gut. She smiles.

“Hey, Alodia,” Fiddler purrs.

“...Jeanine.” I'm surprised that my voice doesn't quiver. I speak to her with measured calm. “I wasn't expecting you. I thought Diego was picking me up.”

“He's going to meet us,” she says simply. “We should get going. Don't want to keep him waiting.”

“Not until Divya's mom gets here. I can't leave her waiting by herself.”

“It's okay, Miss Alodia. I'll be all right.”

“No, Divya,” I reply firmly. “I'm your teacher, and until your mom gets here, I'm responsible for you.”

“Oh, it's no skin off my nose,” Fiddler assures her cheerfully, though I'm pretty sure that's bullshit.

We lapse into a tense silence as I draw in a slow, calming breath. I don't know what Fiddler wants. But she's here and Diego isn't, and that's enough to let me know that something is very wrong in this situation. I search for Varyyn's presence in my mind. If I can find a memory close to the surface of his mind, I can slip into it and speak to him directly, the way I did so many years ago at the Vaanti tribunal.

I can feel right away that he is distressed. Even panicked. The most prominent memories are extremely recent and disjointed, but what I can pick up on puts together an increasingly alarming picture:

A phone call. Diego is...sick? Injured? A frantic rush to the hospital. But Diego isn't there. No one can tell him where his love is.

I find a place to plant my psychic projection, in the lobby of the hospital that Varyyn left in tears only moments ago. But in this moment, he is arguing with the receptionist, his fear and distress rising with every word.

“Varyyn!”

He turns to face me. The receptionist, as well as the rest of the hospital lobby's faceless population, continue with what they were doing, going through their motions like recycled animation.

“Alodia! I cannot find Diego! They told me he collapsed at the school, that he was taken to a hospital...”

“I'm pretty sure whoever told you that was lying. Fiddler is alive, and she's here with me.” I hold out my hand to him. “Keep your mind linked with mine, and don't forget anything that is said, do you understand?”

Varyyn, reading between the lines, nods and grasps my hand, his panic quickly replaced with grim determination. With our minds linked, I return to my own consciousness.

“Bye, Miss Alodia!” Divya calls as she trots over to her mother's car.

“Good-bye, Divya,” I manage to call back. “I'll see you next class.” The car pulls away from the curb, and I am left alone with Fiddler.

“So. Are you going to come quietly?”

“Where is Diego?” I hiss.

“Safe. For now. Whether he stays that way depends entirely on you.” She grasps my upper arm, and gives me a subtle but firm tug. “Come with me.”

I go where she's leading me. I'm walking straight into danger, but I don't have any choice. She has Diego. I can't leave him, and in my current condition, I can't fight her. I have to place my trust in Varyyn.

“If you harm a single hair on his head, you're a dead woman, Jeanine. That's a promise.”

“Listen, sweetie. I would love to cut your throat right here. Take out Wolf's skinny blonde hussy and his grubby little brat in one go. But someone's got a lot of stake your crotchfruit, and I've got a good take coming to me if I bring you and it in whole and healthy. But if I can't kill you right now, you'd better believe I'll take a lot of pleasure in breaking you by hurting your little gay puppy in front of you. Now, I don't have to do that if you don't give me trouble. But ask yourself this: how loosely do you think I'll define 'trouble' if it gives me an excuse to watch you suffer?”

I don't have to fake the way my breath quickens at her implications, even if the submission in the way I lower my eyes is a complete lie.

“...I won't make trouble.”

“Good girl.”

She's led me around the back of the building, to a driveway that is rarely used, except by savvy local drivers who know it can be used to illegally avoid a long traffic light about a block away. There is an ambulance parked dead center of the driveway, blocking potential traffic from both ends.

“Now, from here on out, I can't allow you to have any contact with your blue freak friend. Don't worry. This won't hurt your precious cargo. But it is gonna hurt like hell.”

Before I can respond, the palm of her free hand slaps against the back of my neck. Searing pain floods my senses, and then I drop into darkness.

Caleb

Okay, so I may have gotten in a little over my head when I helped the kids run away from their foster homes. I'm not exactly equipped to take care of them, and I don't really know where to send them. The clocktower isn't safe anymore. I doubt this place is going to be safe for long, either. Plus, I'm not exactly thrilled about hiding out in the same place Silas Prescott held me captive. But at least for now, the kids are out of the cold. The first night, I went digging through a few charity basements and came up with enough blankets to keep them comfortable, and I got enough money to feed them for a little while, but it won't last indefinitely. I just gotta hope Tahira will have some kind of plan. I just gotta trust her.

The silence is awkward as the six of us sit on the floor, stuffing our faces with McDermott's. Ysabel and the younger boys got kiddie meals, with the prize inside being action figures from some popular cartoon. I kinda gotta wonder how long it'll be before they start making action figures of Dragonness and her team.

“I miss Zelda!” RJ announces.

“She's safe. Minuet's taking care of her.”

“Yeah, I know, but I still miss her.”

“I don't like it here,” Alex whimpers. “It's cold and scary.”

“Hey, look. It's not gonna be for long. Our friend Tahira is coming. Remember her? She'll know how to help.”

“How do you know?”

“Because, she's really smart and she's Grayson Prescott's girlfriend. Grayson Prescott basically owns this city.”

“It's his dad who owns the city, not Grayson,” Dylan mutters.

“His dad's in jail,” Ysa points out.

“Well, he's not actually in jail,” I correct her. “He's under house arrest.”

“What's that mean?”

“It's like being in jail, except he just has to stay in his house.”

She wrinkles her nose with obvious distaste. “That doesn't really sound like a punishment.”

“Maybe not, but it still means that Grayson's in charge now, so he can help us.”

RJ frowns. “If Grayson's the one who's gonna help us, why did you call his girlfriend?”

“...Eat your fucking chicken nuggets.”

“Don't swear at my brother!” Dylan snaps. I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face. Where the flying fuck is Tahira? Finally, my burner phone buzzes in my pocket, and when I pull it out, I see Tahira's number flashing across the screen. I answer.

“Tahira? Where are you?”

“Caleb...hall...the...hall we escaped from...Hurry...”

Okay...that doesn't sound good at all. Alarm bells are going off in my head like there's a fucking air raid. I quit the call.

“You kids wait here. I'll be right back.”

I take off for the corridor at a run. I'm not sure what I was expecting to find there, but I was right about it not being good. The hall is pretty dimly lit, but I can still make out the figure that is unmistakeably Tahira slumped on the floor against the wall, and the smell of blood is sickeningly strong.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I rush to drop to my knees at her side. “Tahira, where are you hurt? Lemme see...”

Her eyes flutter and she nods weakly downward. Her hands are pressed to the lower right side of her abdomen, where I can see blood pooling between her fingers.

“Think...I'm gonna need you...to be the hero...this time...”

Jake

I mostly leave Sean and Michelle alone. They're still on their honeymoon, and I didn't come here to be the third wheel. I grab myself a beer from the minifridge belowdecks and head back to the bridge to keep an eye on our progress. It's about an hour into our sail that my phone starts to ring. The sound makes my pulse spike, and when I see that it's Varyyn calling, that only makes me more anxious. My first thought is naturally of my pregnant wife, and the possibilty that she's gone into labor while I'm miles away in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. I snatch up my phone.

“Varyyn? What is it? Is it Alodia? Is she in labor?”

“...No...” Varyyn's voice is quivering. “I'm afraid it's worse than that, Jake. ...She and Diego have been abducted. By Fiddler.”

All the blood rushes out of my head. I actually feel myself fall to my knees as my vision tunnels.

“...No...no, God, please. Please, no...”

“Alodia linked her mind with mine just before she was taken, but then...Fiddler did something, and now I cannot reach her.”

I taste bile at the back of my throat. I can't breathe. This can't be happening. “Wh-what does that mean?!” I choke out. “Is she dead?! Did Fiddler kill her?!”

“No. I don't think so. I can almost feel her presence still, but...it's as if there has been a wall put up between our minds. I cannot speak to her, I cannot see where she is.”

“Fuck...Okay.” I shake my head hard, trying to clear it. I can't help Alodia by panicking. “Okay, Varyyn, listen. I need you to call my sister. She'll know where to start. I'm gonna make sure Mike and I got a plane on the tarmac soon as I get back to Santo Domingo 'cause no way am I waiting around for a commercial flight.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I will call Rebecca.”

I don't wait for him to say goodbye before I hang up the phone and climb unsteadily to my feet. Jesus, where the hell did my sealegs go? I still feel dizzy and breathless, and my stomach is threatening to rebel, but I force all that to the back of my mind. How I feel doesn't matter right now. Alodia is all that matters.

“Sean!” I call as I stumble toward the staircase that leads to the lower deck. “Michelle! We got a problem--”

I feel myself stumble and I stagger against the side just as my phone starts to ring again. Mike this time. I answer.

“Mike, we have a problem...” My tongue is starting to feel heavy. It shouldn't be feeling heavy. I've only had one beer.

“Jake!” Mike's voice comes through the speaker as a harsh whisper. “G.Q.! Bingo! Find another port!”

“Mike, Jeanine's alive. She has my wife.”

“Just promise me! Don't come back to Santo Domingo, Jake! Promise—ungh!”

“Mike?!” Only the distant sounds of something shuffling answer me. “Mike, buddy, say something!”

There's another moment of silence. Then another voice comes through the speaker. “Hello, Wolf.”

My blood goes cold in my veins. “...Lundgren...?”

“Surprised? You should know I'm not gonna die while you and Mouse are alive. How ya feeling, anyway? Dizzy? Hazy?”

I grasp the side of the boat, struggling to pull myself up, but my legs seems to be made of rubber. My vision is blurring, the horizon doubling before my eyes.

“Wha...what's...?” I feel the phone slip from my grasp as I slump back to the deck, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. Michelle...Sean...where are they...? Alodia's in trouble...Diego...Mike...I have to...

There's a figure approaching. An unfamiliar figure in an Arachnid uniform. The last thing I am aware of is a man's tenor voice: “We're just about done here, Commander. The wolf's going under. Sit tight. You'll have your prize soon.”

[asterinjapan]

Another day, another castle

I mean, I could apologize for the implications of that title, but I wouldn’t mean it, so…

Anyway, good afternoon after a short but no less fun day! Since tomorrow will be very busy and I’ll be making the long trip to Tokyo the day after, I didn’t want to cram too much on my Friday. There was one thing pretty high up on my wishlist, but I’d heard a lot of walking was involved… then again, I’d say my feet have had enough practice now to put up with a shorter day of walking, haha.

And so, I had reserved a ticket last night on the Shiokaze train down for Marugame! And yeah, this is another long report. Sorry, me and castles…

Marugame is one of the first cities on Shikoku if you come onto the island via Okayama and the Seto Ohashi bridge. I had actually passed the station when I went to Matsuyama earlier this week, but since that was such a long trip, I couldn’t combine the two. Since Marugame is a good 40 minutes removed from Okayama, I could sleep a little longer in the morning. Or I could have, if I didn’t wake up at 4 AM, and then again at 6… I kept hearing tinny music, so loud I thought my phone or alarm was malfunctioning, but I think it must have been a neighbor in the hotel anyway. Either way, I was determined to at least rest until 8 AM, so I did just that, haha.

After a good breakfast, I made my way to the station to find the Shiokaze already waiting for me. I noticed all Shikoku bound trains have theme naming: Shiokaze means salty/sea winds, then you have the Marine Liner, and then there’s also the Nanpu (southerly winds) and Uzushio (whirling tides). Train names are very poetic in Japan, haha.

Anyway, the sea wind train brought me to Marugame, where the skies were also grey. I hurried from the station immediately to find the castle. It was super easy, basically one straight road ahead, and then – wham, the castle comes into view. The main keep is rather tiny, but it sits on top of Kameyama (turtle mountain) at 66 meters high, and the mountain has been covered in stone walls. So much so that you can be forgiven for comparing it to a pyramid, actually. These walls are imposing, wow. They’re one of the reasons this castle stands out. Another is that it is one of the twelve original main keeps still remaining, with both Matsuyama castles from this trip being other examples. The main keep is the smallest of the twelve, but these walls might actually be the highest in the country.

Anyway! Just as I made my way through the Otemon gate, it started to drizzle. I was taking out my umbrella already when I noticed the nearby information center also offering something fun, so I figured I’d go in first, if I was going to walk through the rain anyway.

You see, Marugame is famous for the uchiwa fans, and apparently produces about 90% of all uchiwa fans going around. They’re the type of round fans made from bamboo and flat paper, so not the fans you can fold back. And here in the information center, they were making them, still by hand – and for thousand yen, you too can make your own uchiwa fan! Obviously, that sounded like way too fun an opportunity to pass up on (and if you buy a fan, they’re usually around that price class anyway if you want one with a nice print). And so, I applied – and could get started right away!

The bamboo crosspiece was already prepared, so I got to pick the paper I wanted and get gluing. They asked if Japanese instructions were okay, so I said they were if they could speak a little slowly, and they were very accommodating and helpful. I suspect small children want to do this too, so they have some practice with uhm, my current levels of Japanese, haha, but I knew what I was doing now in Japanese! Once the paper was glued on and had to set, I was guided to the area where the crosspieces were created. I received a bamboo handle, and got to cut it into a crosspiece myself! This was kind of tricky, because the instruments are very right-hand oriented while I’m a lefty, but I got hands-on guidance, so I didn’t injure myself as I cut up the bamboo into tiny, tiny strips. After a lot of bending back and forth, the crosspiece was more or less done, and I got to pose for a picture with it after writing my name on it, haha.

My glued fan had dried by then, so I was given a hammer and a sickle to cut it into shape. That’s a good way to get any aggression out, by the way. You trim both the paper and the bamboo parts with the sickle, so you have to beat down that hammer hard. Almost done now! I got to choose a paper hemming and pasted it along the edge of the fan to smooth it and decorate it further, and topped it off with two small pieces at either end to keep them in place.

Now, since these fans aren’t the kind you just stick in your handbag, I got to leave it behind for now while I went on my way to the mountain top. I was given a map, a lot of generous instructions (they really are super kind patient here) and went out the door – to find the last drops of rain had just fallen, and it was dry now. Nice!

I had read warnings about the steep climb, but honestly, after Bitchu-Matsuyama castle and Onomichi these past few days, I was barely fazed, haha. Okay, in all fairness, these are some steep roads, but they’re not that long if you take the quickest route up, and there’s plenty of space in between as you go through the third and second bailey on the way up. There’s even a slope called Mikaeri zaka, which means ‘slope on which you look back’, which you definitely want to, because the view on the walls is great. And the views on the look-out points, oh wow! Of course, the castle was built in a strategic spot, overlooking the Seto Inland Sea. Supposedly Marugame is at the coast of the narrowest part of the sea, which means that no-one could sail here without being seen from the castle top. In the distance, I could spot the Seto Ohashi bridge, as well as the interestingly shaped mountain Iinoyama and tons of tiny islands dotting the sea. In fact, the weather was getting clearer and clearer as I moved up, giving me better views.

Once I’d made my way past the defenses, I had finally reached the main area with the keep – and the sun had come out! I couldn’t believe my luck as I got to take pictures of that sweet, white little castle against a blue sky, the sea in the background. Wow. I don’t know which deity here I have pleased what with the amazing weather I’ve had so far, but I have to find out to give them my offers, haha.

You can enter the keep for 200 yen, which, to be fair, is reasonable considering how small it is on the inside. There’s a small exhibition, with tiles featuring fans on display, and the second floor had pictures up of all twelve original keeps, of which I have seen seven now, haha. Actually, the first version of this castle only existed for a couple of years. It was dismantled in 1615, as a new rule stating only one castle per area was allowed, so nearby Takamatsu castle got to stay while Marugame had to go. After a small fief was granted, there was allowed to be a castle once more, and so, the castle was rebuilt in 1641. Most buildings burnt down over the centuries, but the main keep remains standing.

There’s also a stamp rally going on inside the castle, but you needed to have bought the 200 yen sheet for it back at the information center, which I missed. I’m still a bit sad, because if you collect the stamps in order, you basically created an ukiyo-e painting: layer of color over layer of color to produce a full color stamp of the castle. Lesson learnt for next time!

Since the weather was still nice enough despite the forecasted rain, I took the long way down to take in the sights, as the walk was lovely and quiet. It’s not a super touristic castle, at least not today, although I’m sure the weather and it being a weekday had something to do with that. Anyway, I came across a well at the second bailey, which is apparently 65 meters deep! And since it’s almost Halloween, there’s a creepy story attached to this well.

My pamphlet nicely narrates the story of Juzaburo Hasaka, the stonewall designer who worked very hard and had earned the nickname of ‘Juza the naked’, since he, eh, worked wearing only a loincloth. Thanks for that detail, pamphlet. Anyway, the lord was very impressed with his work, going “ha, now nobody can get over these walls unless they’re a bird!” To which our naked buddy replied: “oh, actually, you can totally climb them. Just give me some iron bars and I’ll demonstrate it, easy peasy.” And so he did, and the lord’s eyes probably all but popped out. (I mean, I know mine would – these walls are high.) Since he was so impressed, the lord then said to Juza: “dear upstanding and oh so naked gentleman, would you please go down this well to do research down there? For, you know, Reasons?” And Juza, ever the hard worker, went down into that 65 meter deep well. For, you know, research reasons.

And then our nice lord promptly threw rocks on him until he died so he couldn’t spill the secret of climbing the walls to the enemy. What a cute little intermezzo! Honestly, I peered down into the well, and that’s – deep and dark, wow. I’m so sorry, Juza the Naked Man. You did an amazing job on those walls, if that’s any consolation.

I’m surprised there isn’t a ghost story about him, but there is another one that my pamphlet also lists. My pamphlet is a little macabre, actually. Anyway, since we’re already at it to keep up the Halloween mood: apparently the construction workers were having a tough time on the castle, as it kept raining, so they were all but about to call it quits when a tofu peddler came by to sell his tofu. “Tofu, tofu!” He kept shouting. I mean, makes sense, construction is hard work, surely they’d want a bite. These workers seemed to hear something completely different than ‘tofu’, or maybe just really hated tofu, I don’t know. Either way, they heard ‘sacrifice me so that the rains will stop!’, which is a lot longer than tofu, but that’s – exactly what they did. They buried him alive as a human sacrifice to the castle, and it is said that on rainy days, you can still hear a muffled ‘tofu, tofu’ coming from what sounds like underneath. That poor guy, cursed to sell his tofu until the afterlife…

Well, it wasn’t rainy and I think the well was located in the area that was closed off for reconstructions (… or was it for reconstructions, hmmmmmm), so I didn’t hear him selling tofu, but I was getting hungry, so I made my way down, through some lovely forested areas filled with tiny butterflies, and crows, and HUGE spiders, and EVEN HUGER hornets, which I quickly ran far, far away from. They had warning signs up, and they were not exaggerating, help. I think I prefer the huge spiders, provided they eat the huge hornets.

Inside the gate I had come through was a small exhibition, so I sped through it (hey, it was free), and then I also came across the front gate of the lord’s residence and the guard house, the kabuto (helmet) rock, before I hit a dead end and finally returned to the information center.

Apparently they had gotten a bit worried I had forgotten about my fan, haha. Nope! Just me losing track of time when exploring castles! I watched as one of the ladies here expertly tied a string through my previously cut crosspiece, and then I got to keep that one too, so I can either stick my own paper on it back home or use it for decorations: they showed me an example of one put up against the wall with flowers pinned through, which does indeed look lovely, so I might just do that. They then realized I’d have to take them back home with me, so they rushed to get some cardboard and cut it to size, giving me some bands to keep it in place. They absolutely didn’t have to go through all that effort, but they absolutely went above and beyond here, wow.

 So that was a really fun day, as you can tell by the length of this report despite it only being 2 PM now, haha. Still, that means I spent around 3 hours at the castle if you don’t count the time I spent on the fan, oops… Needless to say, I absolutely recommend this castle. Sure, the walk up is steep, but the short path really is just that, and there’s plenty of space to catch your breath in between. Dang, I really love the castles I’ve visited so far, plus their surroundings. Thank you castles of Japan for introducing me to lovely cities with lovely people! I got to speak a lot of Japanese today, since I stood out a little as a foreigner making a fan, so a group at the main keep asked me if I was indeed that girl, haha, and we chatted for a bit about my trip.

 Anyway, I still hadn’t eaten, so I picked up lunch at the convenience store at the station and hopped on the Nanpu train with it. This one is just as fast and brought me back to Okayama, where skies were getting grey. I think I felt the first rain drops as I made my way to the hotel, so I am really lucky, whoa.

I’m gonna get an early night so that I’ll hopefully be well-rested tomorrow (I’ll wear ear plugs if I have to, stupid tinny music), since that will be a busy, busy day, but also very fun. And then it’s off to Tokyo already! Time really flies. I always look forward to Tokyo, although I’m not sure how many of my daytrips from there can actually go through. But you know what? I’ve already been so, so lucky, I honestly don’t dare to complain. And if all else fails, I definitely know how to entertain myself in Tokyo for a week, haha.

Good evening for now, and see you tomorrow! (Or Sunday, if I’m too worn out to type out my report, haha.)

[downn-in-flames]

9.9 Out of 10, Highly Recommend (chapter 1)

2 bets. 10 days. Endless shenanigans.

{A Brooklyn 99 meets How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days Jily fic}

Read it on: HPFT | AO3 | FFnet

THE BET

At 10 pm on a Tuesday night, James Potter and Lily Evans are both rather impressively drunk.

They don’t know this particular fact about one another though, because they’re at bars across town from one another, with totally different groups of coworkers.

Although if you asked Lily, she really wouldn’t be surprised to learn that James was drinking on a Tuesday - that’s not too far out of character for him, anyways. James, on the other hand, would be absolutely gobsmacked to learn that cookie-cutter rule-follower Lily Evans was getting smashed on a weekday, when they’ve got work tomorrow.

She has good reason for it though - she’s celebrating. She’s only found out earlier today that she’s getting promoted to sergeant in a new department, which is just one step closer to her dream of becoming captain of a whole precinct and then commissioner of the entire NYPD.

In other words, her entire 25-year plan is right on track.

“The precinct is going to be weird without you,” Mary says, taking a sip of her beer.

From anyone else, that would be a mild compliment at best, but from Mary, that’s practically the equivalent of an overly emotional hug, sobbing and all.

Mary may be one of Lily’s closest friends, but she’s always been an impressively impassive and private person, even with people she’s known for years.

“She’s right,” Marlene adds. “Who’s going to get onto Black every time he decides to do something ridiculous like fill the vending machines with rotting vegetables?”

“And then stop Lupin from punching him, because we all know how he feels about the office vending machine,” Mary quips.

It’s an odd thing to be passionate about, but Remus has an impressive level of dedication to the office vending machine, which is in all honestly probably older than all of them and can only be filled with candy bars because anything larger gets stuck.

Lily laughs - it’s louder than her normal laugh, a sure sign that she’s surpassed Three-Drink Lily. “You’ve got Kingsley and Dumbledore for that.”

Marlene rolls her eyes. “Please. Don’t get me wrong, they’re great at their jobs, but when have they ever been able to rein in Lupin and Black?”

“When have I ever been able to rein in Lupin and Black?” Lily replies, before frowning at her now-empty fourth drink.

“You’re able to rein in Potter, and Potter is able to rein in Lupin and Black.”

Lily scoffs at that, because, in her opinion, she doesn’t have much control over Potter either. And if she were more sober, she’d elegantly manoeuver right around that particular topic of conversation, because it’s a viewpoint she’s always differed with her co-workers on.

But she’s just crossed the threshold into Four-Drink Lily, and Four-Drink Lily has conversational grace equivalent to Peter doing ballet. That is to say, none whatsoever.

“I’ve got no more power over Potter than either of you.”

Marlene giggles at that. “You can tell yourself that all you like, but you know he has a thing for you.”

“Trust me,” Mary adds. “I have to watch him make heart eyes at you all day long. He definitely likes you.”

Mary’s desk does face James, so that claim is actually pretty plausible.

Lily still doesn’t buy it though. “Oh please, Potter doesn’t like me. He likes the idea of me.”

“Meaning?” Marlene prods.

“He’s created some idealised version of me in his head,” she says. “I’m the hot coworker who sits at the desk next to him - it’s practically a fantasy situation. And as such, he’s built me up in his head as this dream girl of his - and that’s the girl he has a crush on. Not me.”

Mary rolls her eyes. “Fuck, I’m going to need another drink if you’re going to psychoanalyze people this hard tonight.”

“Can you get all of us another round while you’re at it?” Marlene asks. “It’s your turn to buy anyways.”

“One beer, one whiskey Diet Coke, and one cosmo, coming right up.”

“You’re a doll, Mary,” Marlene replies, knowing full well that the term of endearment will annoy her coworker.

“Fuck off, McKinnon,” Mary retorts, before getting up and heading over to the bar.

Marlene almost immediately turns back to Lily. “Why are you so convinced he doesn’t actually like you? What proof do you have of that?”

“Potter’s the idealistic type, we all know that,” Lily replies reasonably. “He decided I’m his dream girl when I got assigned the desk next to him, and hasn’t paid attention to any evidence to the contrary ever since.”

The other girl eyes her skeptically. “And that evidence is?”

“We’re so different.” Lily has no idea how that’s not abundantly obvious to everyone.

Lily’s the type of person who has a 25-year life plan. James is the type of person who can’t think more than three days in advance - it’s why most of the precinct has taken to sending him calendar invites for every little thing. Lily color codes her sock drawer, and James has had the same empty Coke can sitting on his desk for the past four months and eight days.

She’s kept count of it. It’s been on her nerves for four months and seven days.

“They say opposites attract, you know,” Marlene replies, smirking. “But really, I don’t think you and Potter are actually that different. Yeah, you’ve got different habits and whatnot, but at the same time, you’re both fuelled by the same things. I know you say he’s blinded by a version of you that he’s created in his head, but you’re blinded by an imaginary version of him too, babe.”

“Am not,” Lily answers stubbornly.

“Honestly, if you just gave him a chance, I think you’d find that you two are good for each other.”

Mary returns with their drinks at that moment, which gives Lily a little bit of time to think through Marlene’s comments.

Lily would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t find James good-looking. It’s kind of hard not to find the boy attractive, what with the dark, messy hair, the sharp jawline regularly dotted with stubble, and the cute little dimple on his right cheek that pops out when he smiles. Not to mention that he’s over 6 foot and decently built - a bit on the skinnier side, but Lily’s always kind of preferred that to the gym bro archetype - all of which puts him firmly in the realm of exactly her type.

He’s also actually pretty funny, and some of his overly dramatic antics serve to lighten the mood on particularly stressful days at the precinct. And he was the first person to congratulate her today when the news broke that she was getting promoted.

So yeah, she’s definitely attracted to him, at least a little bit. But she’ll never admit to that - it’d practically be social suicide amongst her co-workers - and they’d inevitably blow it way out of proportion. Thinking a guy is cute and funny doesn’t equate wanting to spend the rest of your life with them, no matter what Marlene may believe to the contrary.

“I’m telling you, I doubt he’s actually into me like that,” Lily finally says, taking the first sip of her fifth drink. “He wants one part of me, and that’s it. The rest is something he’s created in his own mind. He’d take me for a ride, realise he doesn’t actually like the real version of me, and drop me.”

“And I say you’re wrong,” Marlene replies, taking her cosmo off of Mary’s hands.

“I’m actually with Marlene on this one,” Mary says. “He’s into you, full stop.”

Lily hates being outnumbered. And she also hates being told that she’s wrong, which is probably what fuels what she says next.

“I guarantee you that, if Potter knew what I’m like in a relationship - what he’d be signing himself up for in going out with me - he’d realise he’s not actually into me,” she tells them both. “Fuck, I’d even put money on it.”

“And I’d put money on it that he’s half in love with you, and ‘knowing what you’re like in a relationship’ wouldn’t change that one fucking bit,” Mary replies.

“You’re wrong,” Lily replies, looking Mary dead in the eye.

It’s a dangerous decision, getting into a staring contest with Mary, who could probably kill a man with a glare alone, but Five-Drink Lily isn’t afraid of anything. Even if she is pretty sure Mary keeps at least one knife in her combat boots at all times.

“What’s the wager?” Marlene says, breaking Lily’s concentration.

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the wager’?” Lily asks.

“Well, you two both just made a bet, and I’m just curious what’s actually on the table here.”

“That wasn’t an actual bet!” Lily defends immediately.

Mary scoffs. “Yeah, because you know you’ll lose.”

Lily whips around to look at Mary again. “I do not! But a real bet has to have a comprehensive set of rules associated with it, not just vague statements.”

“Let’s make that ‘comprehensive set of rules’ then,” Mary replies, and the use of air quotes has Lily feeling like her friend is most definitely mocking her. “You leave the office in ten days - that’s a built-in timeline right there. Starting tomorrow, you go after him. You take him out on a couple dates or two - no sex required, unless you just really want to, in which case, go for it I guess. You ‘show him your real self’ - but you’re not allowed to dramatically sabotage anything either. If he’s done with you by the time you leave the precinct, you win. If he’s still half in love with you at that point like I know he will be, I win.”

The speed with which Mary just came up with a fully-thought-out proposal almost shocks Lily, but then again, Mary’s only been drinking beer the entire night and has an alcohol tolerance equivalent to her and Marlene combined. So she shouldn’t be surprised, really.

“I can’t date a coworker,” Lily replies.

“Black and Lupin are fucking engaged,” Mary retorts. “You absolutely can date a coworker.”

Mary’s not wrong, per say. There isn’t anything in their HR manual about dating coworkers; it’s a rule Lily’s instituted for herself moreso than anything formalised by the NYPD. Future commissioners don’t get themselves involved in office romances.

“You can suspend your own rules for this,” Marlene adds, all but reading Lily’s mind. “You’re leaving in ten days - there’s no consequences to this like there would be if you still had to share a workspace afterwards.”

She… does have a point.

“Lily’s just making up excuses because she knows I’m right, and she knows she’s going to lose,” Mary says casually, taking another sip of her beer.

Sober Lily is already competitive as hell, and drunk Lily is that intensified tenfold.

“You’re on, McDonald,” Lily says, slamming her drink down on the table so aggressively that a little bit sloshes over the side. “Loser has to sit through one of Peter’s homemade cheese tasting demonstrations - and eat all of them.”

Betting money might’ve been the original proposal, but the comedic value of forcing Mary to sit through Peter’s impassioned explanations of all the possible cheese varieties is worth far more, from Lily’s perspective.

“And has to organise Black’s Drawer of Horrors,” Mary adds, grinning wickedly.

One of the drawers in Sirius’ desk has been filled with a whole host of terrifying objects over his tenure at the precinct - ranging from prank toys to food that’s probably sat there for years. Even Lily, who gets a thrill out of organising pretty much anything else, doesn’t want to get near that thing with a ten-foot pole.

But Lily won’t have to. Because she’s going to win. “You have yourself a deal,” she says, holding out a hand for Mary to shake.

Mary reaches out and shakes it, gripping just a tiny bit harder than necessary. Lily resists the urge to cringe at the force of it - that’s exactly the display of weakness Mary wants to see.

Marlene looks up from the message she’s been typing on her phone and claps her hands delightedly. “Oh, this is absolutely the kind of office excitement we’ve been needing!”

Lily arches an eyebrow at her. “We work at a police precinct. You really think that’s not exciting?”

Marlene shrugs. “Taking down crime rings and whatnot is cool and all, but the juicy gossip is what I’m really here for.”

Lily shouldn’t even be surprised by that, really. Honestly, Marlene could probably have a pretty decent career in reality TV if she ever decided to leave the precinct.

“There’s not going to be any juicy gossip,” Lily says. “James is going to go out with me twice, realise I’m not what he signed up for, and that’ll be the end of that. No juicy gossip involved.”

“Whatever you say, Lil,” Marlene laughs.

That’s really all there is to it, Lily tells herself. She’s going to win this bet, start her new job, and forget all about James Potter and his stupidly perfect jawline.

On the other side of town, James is on his fourth beer and absolutely thriving.

The four of them - Remus, Sirius, Peter, and him - are on a mission to taste-test every brewery in New York City. They’re nowhere close to accomplishing that goal yet, but they’ve made pretty decent headway and enjoyed acting like overblown beer snobs in the process.

“Ah yes,” Sirius comments, holding his drink out in front of him. “The hops in this brew are particularly pronounced.”

“There’s an earthy aftertaste to this one,” Remus adds, swirling his stout as if it’s a fancy glass of wine.

“And this one tastes like piss,” James replies, completely ruining the fake-classy theme Sirius and Remus had going with their commentary.

“Come on, guys!” Peter says earnestly. “Beer tastings are meant to be a serious affair!”

Sirius isn’t swayed at all. “They’re meant to get us drunk, Wormtail.”

James always wonders what other people must think of them when they hear the group of men calling each other by weird nicknames like Wormtail and Padfoot. In all honesty, James himself isn’t quite sure why the names have stuck as long as they have - they were originally inspired by the first major crimes each detective took down when they were all assigned to the newly-formed 73rd precinct, and they’ve lingered ever since.

Peter took down an organized crime ring from the inside - he was the rat, as the ringleader so eloquently called him in court. Hence, Wormtail.

“You sound like Fenwick,” James adds, before draining his glass.

“Nah,” Remus replies. “None of us are drinking pilsners. Ergo, couldn’t possible be Fenwick.”

They all laugh at that - Benjy Fenwick’s obsession with pilsners has definitely become a running joke throughout the office, despite the fact that the guy doesn’t even work there.

“You’re also nowhere near as much of a dick as Fenwick was,” James tacks on.

Sirius looks up from his phone. “Fenwick wasn’t actually that much of a dick. You just didn’t like him because he was fucking the love of your life.”

James crinkles his brows in disgust. “Fenwick is definitely not the love of my life.”

Admittedly, yeah, Fenwick isn’t ugly - he actually kind of resembles a guy James had gone on a couple dates with in college - but he has the all the personality of a loaf of white bread.

Ergo, very much not James’ type.

“You massively misinterpreted the usage of the word ‘fucking’ in that sentence,” Sirius corrects. “The love of your life is the person he was fucking.”

“Evans isn’t the love of my life either,” James replies defensively.

Well, not yet, at least. James could definitely see her becoming the love of his life though. He almost spilt his coffee all over himself the very first day she showed up at the precinct (he managed to contain the spill to one sleeve, in the end) because fuck, the detective he was supposed to be sharing a desk with shouldn’t have been that beautiful.

And then she opened her mouth and James started falling for her even more.

So yeah, at this point, he’s pretty hopelessly smitten.

And because he’s utter shit at hiding his feelings, all of his friends know it, most of the precinct knows it, and hell, Lily probably knows it too. Trying to argue to the contrary is a bit of a hopeless endeavour.

Remus looks at him skeptically. “Maybe not love of your life, but pretty damn close.”

James shrugs, picking up another one of the IPAs they’ve got on the table. “Doesn’t matter much though - she’s leaving the precinct in 10 days and I won’t have much reason to see her after that.”

When he first heard the news of her promotion, he’d secretly been kind of sad that he wouldn’t have an excuse to see Lily everyday anymore. But he also knows how important getting a promotion and moving up in the police department is to Lily, so he’d given her a bright smile and congratulated her anyways.

“Or, you could actually make a move sometime in those 10 days so that she actually wants to hang around with your dumb ass even after she leaves.”

James glares at Sirius.

“But you don’t have the guts for that, do you?” his best friend challenges.

“Pads...” Remus warns.

Padfoot, like the dog. Inspired by the major drug operation Sirius had sniffed out.

Sirius waves off his fiancé. “Prongs, you’re my brother, so I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you’re absolutely shit with people you’ve got a crush on, and Evans is no exception. You just make doe eyes at her from afar and that’s not going to get you anywhere.”

He’s obviously trying to get a rise out of James - giving him shit for all sorts of things that he knows James can’t stand being called out on - and maybe a more sober James would recognise that, and let Sirius have his fun without rising to the bait.

But that’s not the state that James is in right now.

“I am not shit with people I’ve got a crush on,” he argues. “I just happen to respect Evans’s boundaries because I don’t think it’s very professional to openly flirt with a coworker in the workplace.”

It’s not like the NYPD is known for its sexual harassment policies, so honestly, James probably wouldn’t get in any sort of trouble if he did decide to repeatedly ask her out on dates until she relented, but he’d never want to make her uncomfortable like that.

Hence, his (slightly pathetic) pining from afar.

“I’m not asking you to get a harassment complaint filed against yourself,” Sirius replies immediately. “In fact, I rather like Evans, so if you do manage to do something that warrants a harassment complaint or makes her uncomfortable, I’m formally obligated to kick your ass. But I’m just saying, this is your chance to shoot your shot before she’s no longer one desk away from you.”

Peter laughs. “Please. Prongs could never get Evans to fall for him in that period of time.”

Prongs could refer to the antlers on a stag - and James does love rocking a good pair of reindeer antlers from time to time - but the true derivation of that name was from James escaping and diffusing a hostage situation using nothing but an unloaded gun and a fork.

But damn. Hearing that insult from Peter stings - after all, the guy has had an even longer dry spell than James has. Really, he’s got no right to go around critiquing James’ wooing skills.

“Could too,” James replies childishly, only barely resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at his friend.

“Care to make an official bet on that?” Sirius asks, smirking. “I’ll take you up on that one - loser has to sit through one of Wormy’s cheese demonstrations.”

“Oh yes!” Peter claps his hands together delightedly, completely missing the point that this is a form of punishment for losing. “I’ve been needing more people to practice on!”

“I’m not making a bet on Evans,” James replies obstinately. “She’s a person, not a prize to be won.”

“Technically, you’re not betting on Evans,” Remus replies, serving as the voice of logic at the table. “You’re betting on your own abilities. If you win, you’ve managed to actually nail the partner of your dreams; if you lose, no one is any worse off than when you started. This is an entirely non-objectifying situation on all accounts.”

When Remus puts it like that, James has to admit that he’s got a pretty good point. And there’s no possible outcome to this that hurts anyone. Well, other than James himself if he fails, but honestly no more hurt than if he’d never even taken a chance with Lily to begin with.

He just has to… actually manage to charm the woman that’s shown absolutely no romantic interest in him up until this point.

Should be easy enough, he thinks to himself, and almost laughs aloud at his own internal sarcasm.

But he’ll also never turn down a bet - especially not when all his friends have been giving him so much shit all night. James Potter is a lot of things, but a coward is most definitely not one of them.

So he turns to Sirius, grinning wickedly. “You’re on. But two rules: you three can’t interfere at all, and no one tells Evans about it until it’s over.”

Sirius looks vaguely surprised. “You’re actually taking me up on this?”

“Come on, Pads, you know full well that I don’t back down from a challenge.”

James isn’t lying on that one. It’s gotten him into a fair share of sticky situations - most frequently with a particularly problematic cop in the Major Crimes Unit, who has basically made it his life’s goal to antagonise their whole precinct (but mostly James) on a regular basis.

“Plus,” James muses. “You’re right. I’ve got ten days until I’ll never see her again - if there’s ever a time to take a risk, it’s now.”

“You do realise she’s still going to be friends with all of us, and she’s only moving - ”

“Moony, hush,” Sirius waves a hand in front of Remus’ face, stopping him from finishing that sentence.

The way Remus earned that nickname - and the way he stopped a major car chase in progress - is still a story that none of the boys can get through without laughing.

“So we’ve got ourselves a bet, Prongs?” he continues, extending a hand out to James. “If Lily falls in love with you by the time she leaves the precinct, you win; if she wants nothing to do with you, I win.”

It feels like there’s a significant gap between ‘falling in love with him’ and ‘wanting nothing to do with him,’ but James doesn’t give that technicality too much thought. This is his dignity (and a cheese tasting with Peter) on the line.

So he takes Sirius’ hand, giving it a firm shake. “Let’s do this.”

Ten days from now, he’ll have made Lily fall for him, proving his romantic competence once and for all. His friends will inevitable find something else to give him shit for, but James will thoroughly enjoy his bragging rights.

Or alternatively, he’ll be sampling Peter’s homemade gouda, but James isn’t letting himself entertain that outcome right now.