#this chapter was especially difficult to finish for some reason

[trippinsorrows]

dreamland: the school projects

authors note: yes, it's really my ass again. promise this is the last one. next thing i update will be the ltye chapter sometime over the weekend.

let's pretend target aint' problematic in this world.

warnings: roman's blood pressure being in the danger zone.

words: 4.6k

Roman always misses his wife when she's out of town. For obvious reasons, and some not so obvious. The biggest one though is that having two parents to manage six children, all who happen to still be in single digits, is always better than one. Especially when one is lucky enough to have a partner like Sol.

She's so good and graceful at handling all the things.

Like school projects.

Especially those. His wife is as creative as she is beautiful. Always able to help the kids when they get sent home with those annoying ass projects he has zero patience for. It's already hard enough for him to manage coloring with those small ass crayons when his set of creative kids ask him to sit down and do art with them. Anything beyond that is grounds for referral.

Except that's not an option.

It's not an option, because his wife isn't here. Out of town for a leadership conference for female business owners. A good thing for her. He's forever proud of all she's accomplished.

But, that leaves him on his own with their six children. Soon to be four, because Roman is having a hard ass time processing what his two oldest are trying to tell him.

"What you mean ya'll both have a project due?" Roman had just finished getting his twin boys, Koa and Kai, down for bed. Not nearly as difficult as it was for the older ones, but still something that took a good half hour. Now he's got the terror non-twins in front of him hitting him with something unexpected. "When are they due?"

"Tomorrow," Lina answers it so easily and casually, completely either oblivious or uncaring of the way her daddy's eyes widen.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yup," Tama nods, the two of them sharing a little laugh. Over what, he has no idea. These two are always in cahoots over something, and he can't be bothered with that right now, because he's too busy trying not to freak out on them.

Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. "So, ya'll really both knew you had these projects due yet decided to wait until—" He looks at the expensive watch on his wrist. "Almost 6pm to tell me about them?"

Lina nods so nonchalantly.

Roman has to bite back a smart ass response. Then it hits him. "Wait, does that mean Leya has one, too?"

Lina shakes her head. "Sissy did hers two weeks ago."

So, why the hell ya'll ain't do yours then, too? A question he keeps to himself, because he already knows the answer. Leya inherited all of Solana's creativity. She loves school projects. Of course she completed her early. Not to mention, Sol loves helping her, all the kids, really, with them.

It's a love Roman, unfortunately, does not share.

But, something he's gonna have to stomach cause these damn kids have pulled one over on him yet again.

Roman shakes his head. "Alright, well let's get started. What are the requ—what?" He stops himself, detecting the unspoken expression in their faces.

Lina pokes out her mouth, rocking back and forth on her heels, hands behind her back. "We don't have the supplies."

Tama adds. "Yeah, we gotta go to Target."

"Target?" It just keeps getting worse. "What do you mean we don't have the supplies?" Roman gestures to the space around them. "All these art rooms I built for your mom, and we don't have everything ya'll need already?"

In synchronization, Tama and Lina nod. Roman has to close his eyes and count backwards from ten.

Of course.

"Go tell Leya to throw something on," he instructs his two oldest, both quickly running away and up the stairs to inform their sister of this unexpected outing. Roman pulls out his phone, alerting security that he has to run out and someone needs to watch Koa and Kai's nursery. No way in hell he's waking and dragging them out the house. Not when he just got them down for bed.

Receiving a response, Roman moves up the steps to head to Samaria's room to get her ready as well.

He's gonna need a drink after all this.

Or several.

-----------

"Alright, look," he starts off, looking back at his kids, all four wearing various expressions. Lina and Tama look excited as hell, Samaria is in her own world, lowly singing some random song, and Leya—sweet, sweet Leya—is the only one clearly paying attention. "When we get in this store, I don't want ya'll asking for nothing." Roman literally had several packages delivered just this afternoon of the latest toys, dolls, and obstacle course themed things. He means it when he says he's not buying them anything. "We're here for supplies for these projects. Okay?" Leya nods, signifying her understanding. The other three kids remain unfocused and uninterested.

Aria has a bit of an attitude with him—tapping into her inner Lina—because he wouldn't let her take her "cart" with her. AKA the kids Target cart she got a few weeks ago that Solana always lets her bring when they go out shopping.

He just had to remind her that that's mommy's thing. Not daddy's thing.

Not that she cares, of course.

Getting all four out of their car seats takes a good almost twenty minutes. Naturally, Lina and Tama are ready to run in the store, Roman instructing Zilla to keep an eye on and tag them. Leya, unsurprisingly, doesn't need to be prompted. She naturally takes Roman's hand, staying close to him. Samaria is a little more difficult, easily trying to dart off the minute they walk into the store.

That's another thing.

Roman had an idea that maybe if the store wasn't cleared out, the kids would be less likely to want to roam.

Wrong idea.

Zilla is following Lina and Tama who have said fuck the supplies, instead heading to the sports section. Samaria, after being placed in the cart by Roman, is pointing and asking him to take her down damn near every aisle. It's literally only Leya—his now favorite child, who stays close to him the entire time. When he can't hold her hand, because he's placing shit in the cart, she's holding onto his shirt or shorts.

Both for her comfort and because out of all the kids, she's always been the most obedient. When they say to do something, Leya always does it. The exception being when her OCD interferes.

"Daddy, look!" Roman was in the midst of trying to look over the needed supplies from each Lina and Tama's project directions when Samaria is tugging on his sleeve. He looks over to see her pointing to some kids makeup set.

He shakes his head. "Aria, daddy just got you one of those last week." And not cause he wanted to. At five, his little girl is way into that beauty shit much earlier than he'd like to see.

"Not that one!" She whines, wiggling, wanting to get out of the cart.

"Aria—"

"I wanna see it!" She shouts, crossing her arms and pouting.

Any other time, Roman would nip that attitude in the bud. She definitely takes after Lina with her stubbornness sometimes. But, right now, he's gotta pick and choose his battles.

Begrudgingly, Roman lifts her out and watches her run over to the end cap where she grabs two kits, dashes back over and tries to place them in the cart, but she's too little, her arms too short to reach.

He sighs and obliges, opening his mouth to stop her as she runs back and starts looking down the aisle.

Roman closes his eyes.

I love my kids.

I love my kids.

I love my kids.

His internal mantra and reminder is repeated as he and Leya walk down the aisle, the father of six tossing and placing item after item into the cart. All courtesy of Samaria who talks and explains the whole time why she "needs" all this stuff.

She needs nothing. None of his kids do. Except these damn school supplies for this stupid ass project.

"Alright, that's enough, Samaria." Roman has to finally put his foot down. The cart is damn near full of unnecessary shit, and the more time they spend in this store, the less time he has to help the kids complete their projects. And that doesn't even include getting the rest of them down for bed.

Another daunting task in and of itself.

Samaria pouts once more, whining out an, "okay."

Roman gathers the papers again, ready to start moving down the list. He's decided that Lina and Tama still being gone somewhere in the store is something he refuses to think about. Because, he just knows they've got a cart filled.

Just knows it.

But, then he sees it out the corner of his eye. Sees the way Leya is looking over at something on the shelf. Some type of art kit. She says nothing, nor does she indicate any type of plans to grab it. Much unlike her younger sister.

It brings a small smile on his face. That's his Leya. Never the type to really ask for anything. Always content.

Roman bends down, gesturing to the kit. "You can get it."

Leya turns to him with surprise in her pretty eyes. Her smile is small and cautious. She points to it with an unspoken but evident question.

Really?

Roman chuckles and kisses her forehead. "Go ahead."

Her smile grows instantly as she walks over, grabbing the kit and bringing it back over, placing it in the cart. Seconds later, she's back by his side, but this time pointing at the papers in hand.

"These?" She nods. Roman hands them to her as she looks them over, tugging on his shirt, indicating her desire for her to follow him. Roman calls for Samaria to come walk with them, taking her hand in his, the other navigating the cart.

Wordlessly, Roman follows his eight-year-old as she quietly guides them down an aisle and starts placing items in the cart.It's obvious by the way she looks between the papers before grabbing said items, that she's not shopping for herself like her siblings. She's getting the supplies needed for the projects. Handling that task for him.

It keeps a small smile on his face.

Of all the kids, she's definitely the most like Solana.

Selfless.

"Would you look at that, John?" A new voice enters the scene, somewhat sounding out the sound of Samaria, who's singing quietly, again, while also picking up more unnecessary stuff for herself.

Typical.

A glance over allows Roman to see a Caucasian, elderly couple, a man and a woman, watching as his girls shop. It instantly makes him scowl.

People.

He's fully prepared to ignore them when the woman speaks again. "What sweet girls helping out their dad." At that, he has no protests there. Never mind the fact Leya is the only one trying to help him. Samaria is helping herself and her ever growing collection of toys.

Much to his chagrin, the 176 year-old woman walks over to him, hand over her chest. "I truly commend you single fathers." Roman scowls. The fuck? "I know it can't be easy raising two young girls all on your own."

Roman has to stop himself from snapping and cussing them out. Solana has been on him lately about his language in front of the kids. Something about her being tired of Lina and Tama getting sent home with notes about cussing at their classmates.

Not that he sees a big issue. They shouldn't be messing with his kids in the first damn place.

"Lady, I'm not a single father." And, he certainly has more than two kids. Way more. "Their mom is coming back."

"And, you keep believing that, son." The older man speaks up, fist raised in some sort of sign of determination and solidarity. "Keep hope alive that she'll come to her senses, find her way home, and come back to these sweet little angels."

At that point, Samaria comes over, wearing some wig—where the fuck did she get that from?—with a great big smile. "I am an angel!" She starts spinning around, holding her dress, singing.

Again.

It clearly moves this old ass couple who look at her in awe.

Meanwhile, Roman is trying not to lose his damn mind.

"Come on, ya'll," Roman mutters, managing to steer his kids away without having to acknowledge or curse out the nursing home escapees. Except, one stressor is traded for another.

"What the hell is all this?" Roman asks, face to face with Zilla who's pushing one full ass cart along with Lina and Tama who are pushing yet another full ass cart. Toys, basketballs, snacks, sports shits, and other randoms practically overflowing.

He looks over at his younger cousin who simply shrugs. "They also scheduled a play date, too," Zilla informs.

"Her name is Mrs. Jade, and she's really nice," Lina shares, starting to explain. "She has two kids."

"Josiah and Marcus," Tama finishes. "It's next Saturday at 2pm."

"What have I told ya'll about talking to people you don't know?" Roman scolds. For the life of him, he'll never understand how he and Solana made all these goddamn extroverted ass kids.

Lina shrugs. "We know them now."

Roman, once again, has to count to ten.

Or, 100.

In the meantime, Lina and Tama rush over to Leya, asking what she got. At which point, Leya points to the single item she selected. This, of course, is not acceptable to Lina.

"You need more stuff, sissy," she informs, taking her by the hand. The two of them, joined by Tama, head down a nearby aisle of toys. Goddamn, it feels like Roman can't escape the shit.

"Wait for me!" Samaria calls after them, running behind her big siblings.

"Watch them," Roman orders. Zilla nods. The Tribal Chief then turns on his heel, searching for a completely different kind of aisle. He suddenly has a new, unexpected item added to his list.

It's relatively easy to find, though a blast from the fucking past.

Years.

It's been years since he's had to shop for this.

Something he never ever expected to have to do, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Roman easily peruses the options, most of which have never worked for him, finally landing on it. The only one that did work. Grabbing the black and gold box, he's partially surprised the design hasn't changed in all the time that's passed since he was last in the market.

He reads the box just to make sure he's grabbed the right one.

Trojan

Magnum XL

Value Size

The right one, for sure.

It takes a second for it to set in. Roman swore up and down he'd never use protection with his wife. Never wanted to. The pleasure of fucking her raw has always been too good to not experience. But between his being fertile as hell, her also clearly being fertile as hell, the six kids they already have, along with her not wanting to get on birth control, he feels like he has no other choice.

They cannot risk anymore kids. Roman loves her. Loves his children. Loves his family, but it's too much. They have more than enough on their plate. With him being a few years shy of 50 and Solana a couple years away from 40, it would be irresponsible as hell for him to bring anymore children into the world. Not to mention, he's not sure he can handle another Lina or Tama.

Grip on the box tightening just a bit, he nods to himself.

He'll just have to talk and lay it all out for Solana when she gets home.

Surely, she'll understand.

Roman turns to leave and then considers something. Considers how sexually active he and his wife are.

He grabs another box.

And then an extra one.

For….reasons.

Roman finds Zilla and his brood of children along with three full ass baskets, Lina informing proudly, "we're ready to checkout, daddy."

Yes, they sure fucking are.

Tama, however, would be the one to notice the boxes Roman is trying his best to keep discreet. "Hey dad, what's that?"

"Nothing," Roman dismisses, working to keep his voice calm and nonchalant. "Adult stuff."

"So, it's for old people?"

Zilla covers his mouth to hide his snort.

"Come on," Roman ignores his smart mouth having ass son as the group heads over to the registers, choosing the one that has only one person in line ahead of them. The kids play and talk among themselves, not including Samaria still singing, when Roman catches out the corner of his eye a man to the right of him waiting to check out as well.

He lifts his sunglasses, looking between the items in Roman's hands and his rambunctious four children. "I think it might be a lil' too late for that, my brother."

Zilla is unable to hold in his laughter this time. Roman shoots both the man and his cousin a glare. "Hey. He said it. Not me."

"Shut up," Roman mutters, grateful when it's their turn to be rung up.

"Hi!" The cashier, a young girl in her twenties flashes him a big, annoying ass smile. Why the fuck is she so damn happy? "Did you find everything alright?"

"We did!" Samaria answers. The woman leans over to see his youngest little girl beaming up just as much, placing two candy bars on the conveyor belt. When the hell did she grab that?

"Well, that is just awesome," the girl replies in a sing-song voice, further irking the already irritated man.

"Here." He tries to subtly hand her the three value sized boxes of condoms. "Ring these up now and place em' in a separate bag."

Her eyes widen slightly as she reads one of the boxes, a blush forming on her cheeks. "Of course."

Roman rolls his eyes, warning Tama and Lina to stay close. He can see them eyeing some people he knows they'd just love to go talk to.

"Are you interested in joining our Target Circle program?" The woman asks, Roman picking up Samaria to keep her from grabbing anymore candy.

"No," he answers, watching the subtotal continue to go up and up.

"Are you sure?" She presses, continuing to ring up the items. "We have several card options. Each bound to meet at least one of your Target shopping ne—"

"Lady," he interrupts, the tight grip on his anger loosening with each annoying word that leaves her annoying big ass mouth. "I don't wanna join your damn program. I want you to ring my shit up, so I can get the hell out of here, okay?"

Around him, various responses. Samaria, in his arms, gasps. "Daddy," she says it just in that Solana scolding type of voice. "That was mean."

Leya remains silent, but her twin and partner in crime are snickering away. Tama laughing, "daddy said shit."

"Ya'll stop that cussing," Roman scolds. Grateful the cashier got the hint, she says nothing else until it's time to share the total.

$7,846.53

Roman manages to pull out his wallet and black card, inserting it inside the chip reader, all while still holding a now yawning Samaria. At almost 7:30pm, it's past her bedtime.

Snatching the receipt from Blondie, Roman and the group are heading to the car, Zilla loading up the two SUV's as Roman works to strap all the kids in their car seats.

Lina suddenly yawns as he works to secure Samaria. "Daddy, can we get ice cream?"

Roman's eyes nearly bulge out his head.

"No, we are not getting ice cream." He shoots that down real fast, laying out the game plan. "We are going home, I'm gonna put your little sister to bed, we're going to get these projects done, and then all of ya'll are going to sleep."

---------------

After letting the kids ice cream digest, Roman sort of sticks to his plan, putting Samaria to sleep and starting to help Lina and Tama with their projects now that they have all the necessary supplies.

And more.

But, that's neither here nor there.

Except, once again, Roman is reminded how non-creative he is.

And so are his two oldest children.

It's a combination of frustration, exhaustion, and more that has The Tribal Chief just about ready to call it a night, accepting he'll just keep them home from school tomorrow.

And then, a savior.

A sweet, sweet angel in the form of an eight year old-girl.

Leya.

His saint of a daughter arrives, practically taking over for all three of them. She works silently and efficiently, pointing and gesturing to certain items when she needs help, something she needs very little of.

It's like watching Solana do her magic, the way his little girl transforms nothing into something.

And not even an hour later, both projects are complete, courtesy almost entirely of Miss Cataleya Reigns.

Why couldn't all his kids be like her?

Roman doesn't need to direct Tama and Lina to thank their sister. One thing about them all, they love and support each other. He and Solana never have to do anything to encourage that.

Unfortunately, it's not until almost 10:30 when he gets the remaining kids in bed, Roman plopping down on the sofa and releasing a deep breath from one of the most stressful days he's had in a while.

He'd love nothing more than to jump in bed, but he has to have his nightly call with his wife to see how she's doing. Along with letting her know how things have been on his end.

Something he both is and is not looking forward to.

Except when Roman pulls out his phone to call his wife, he hears something.

Turning to his right, he's met with none other than Leya. She's still in her pajamas, pink, silk bonnet on her head, her favorite stuffy in her hand.

He sits forward, frowning, "what's wrong, baby?"

He has a guess, already knowing her anxiety and OCD tend to get triggered at night when one of her parents is out of town. Except, she usually comes and finds him when he's already in bed.

Not this soon.

She says nothing, instead walking over and placing her little arms around him for a hug.

Instantly, a massive wave of relief washes over him. There's something about being hugged by all his kids, especially his girls. But, Leya's hugs always hit and feel deeper.

And that feeling only intensifies when she says in her cute, soft, little voice, "you're the best daddy ever."

Roman's eyes shut, his heart filled with all the wonderful things and emotions that come from fatherhood. From knowing how, despite his massive concerns about such thing, his hard work has paid off.

He's managed to have the relationship with his kids he never thought possible but is clearly a reality given the powerful words just spoken.

"Thank you, sweetie." Roman kisses her temple. "I love you, Cataleya."

She hugs him a little tighter. "I love you, too, daddy."

Words he'll never tire of hearing. Ever.

Roman pulls back, gently tapping her cheek. "Hey, how about you come lay down with daddy now?" It makes all the sense. He knows before the morning arrives, at least two of his children will end up in his bed. The kids all like to sleep with whatever parent is home when the other is out of town.

He's just fast forwarding.

Leya's eyes light up as she nods and smiles happily.

Roman chuckles, standing up while still holding her. "Come on."

He leads her upstairs, keeping from her the fact she'll probably get to see and speak to Solana with him. Another surprise of sorts.

Roman's kids may be a lot at times, as are most children, but they're his.

His family.

His legacy.

And, he wouldn't have it any other way.

---------------

Less than a week later, Solana is back home, where she belongs, and where Roman needs her most.

After a day of the kids hovering around their mother, as expected given her absence, later that evening, Roman finally has his wife to himself.

Laying in between her legs, he laments while she plays in his hair, massaging his scalp and providing the sort of release only she can gift him.

"And then," he starts, transitioning to yet another stressful tale from while she was gone. It's always a bit funny to her how dramatic her husband can be. "Lina and Tama…I swear those two are going to send me to an early grave."

Solana rolls her eyes, small smile on her face. "I know they're a lot at times."

"At times?" His eyes dart up to her, filled with nothing but disbelief. "Baby, it's always something with them two. They don't know how to stay seated for more than five minutes, and they can never just listen. Stubborn asses."

Solana snorts. "I wonder where they get that from."

He mutters, "must be from your side of the family."

At that, she has to stop and look at him again. Solana loves this man with everything in her, but it never ceases to amaze her how blind he can be when it comes to their kids. She knows Tama and Lina are a handful at times, spitfires on their own, a tsunami together, but they're every bit of their dad. Same temper. Same determination. Same scowl, even.

Roman is just dealing with himself in the form of an eight year-old little girl and a seven year-old little boy. Not that he can see that.

No, not at all.

"Well…" Solana trails off, leaning over, running her hands down his chest. "Hint of advice for next time, babe?" Roman looks at her. "Let Aria take her cart. Once it's filled, that's it in her mind. She doesn't think to ask to put anything else in the big cart. Keep Lina with Leya, and Tama with you. Leya serves as a buffer between the two."

Roman looks like his whole life has just been turned upside down. He sits up, continuing to look at Solana with disbelief. "Baby, you ain't think to tell me that shit before?" Solana giggles, rolling her eyes once more. "All that damn stress for nothing."

Solana presses her lips together and strokes his beard. "I'm sorry, mi amor." Voice dropping, she sits up, moving closer to him on the bed. "Why don't you let me make it up to you?" Solana shifts once more so she's straddling her husband. Her hands massaging his big, broad shoulders. She drops her mouth to his ear, kissing the shell, whispering. "Let mami take care of papi."

Lightly grinding on top of him, she's unsurprised to feel the growing erection pressing against her.

Smiling, she starts kissing him, his hands moving under her big shirt, going and lifting it over her head. The removal leaves her in just her blank thong. Nothing else.

An unhealthy amount of lust fills and dances in Roman's warm irises, prompting her to reach for the waistband of his sweats.

Kissing on his neck while doing so, she's caught off guard when he grabs her by her wrists.

Confused as all outdoors, she expresses as such, "what's wrong?"

Roman just looks at her. This beautiful goddess of a woman practically naked before him. The mother of his children. His wife. The love of his life. He's missed the fuck out of her.

And, he's especially missed fucking her.

He won't deny himself this.

Not tonight.

"Nothing," he dismisses, hiking her up on his waist. They can have the condom talk some other time. Right now, he wants one thing and one thing only. Solana lowers her lips to his, her hair hanging and fanning their faces. He smirks, murmuring with a light slap to her ass. "Show papi how much you missed him."

[zolass]

Detectives Attraction Ch. 08 Top Male Reader x Male Yandere Harem

It took a while to finally continue writing as my mood literally hit the ground, with all the stress and drama so it took some time to write again and finish the chapter. It's also not long but yeah at least something.

cw: none 1.4k words

The wooden door was pushed open harshly, making it slam against the shelf right beside the entrance, and a man stepped into the dark decorated office space. “So now we’re allowing cops into our clubs? Letting them snoop around?” the man clenched his hands into fists in anger. “What about that pathetic excuse of a commissioner? What was his name– Hayes?” a bitter scoff left the brown haired man, as he let himself fall into the leather chair across the mahogany desk.

Across from the man sat a platinum blonde man– his shoulder length hair neatly styled, while his grey eyes stared at the papers spread across the desk, “We’ll see how far Ana will lead him and– where. It might benefit us, Rhys– so let’s simply wait and see,” the blonde’s voice was deep and smooth while his words were laced with a hint of amusement, instead of anger.

The other man was fuming in anger as he glared at the wall, while his hands were clenched into fists. “Why don’t you go over and share– a quick talk?” 

It wasn't even twenty four hours later as M/n stared at his phone screen with the messenger open. He didn't even have to ask her how she got his number– if Adrian could simply get his address, how hard would it be to get his number– possibly not that difficult. 

On the screen were the details for the meeting listed, first M/n simply thought about just not going– how desperate does he have to be to simply meet up with a criminal to get information? 

Yet as the time from the meet up edged closer, M/n couldn’t help but still be conflicted, was it really the best decision he could make? Well he’ll simply find out the hard way– if every lead he has was destroyed up until now? What else could he do until another case which might not even bring any new or old leads?

M/n simply had to see if this woman had anything useful for him.

The sun was already setting as the detective got into his car, started the engine and drove off towards the spot where he would meet the red haired woman. The window was down, letting the cool air blow into the car and through his hair while his e/c eyes were focused on the road.

M/N’s finger tapped the steering wheel in the rhythm of the music coming from the radio, while he jotted down in his mind all the possibilities on how this could turn out. Most of them were bad– as he couldn’t really see a possibility of not getting stabbed in the back, especially by a criminal, who seemed to know how she had to play her cards to land in her favor— and her favor only.

Trust is something that’s either strong or a mere fragile thing that’s only a one way street. And M/n was someone who hardly puts his trust on another person that easily, it was a harsh environment where you can’t put your trust on just anyone– might be a reason why the detective was rather working by himself than with someone else hanging by his side. 

So when he slowly hit the brakes and came to a stop in front of a simple apartment complex– he was surprised to say the least. M/n couldn’t lie and would've expected more of a cliche in the sense of a warehouse. 

When he stepped out of the car, the door to the apartment complex opened and out came not only the red haired woman but a blonde woman was close behind. “Knew you would show up,” the red head leaned against the frame of the door, while the blonde leaned lazily against her side, as if she wanted to melt into the other. M/n only shrugged as he slowly stepped closer, “Might as well risk it,” was the only verbal response he gave, as he stopped at the steps leading up towards the door. 

“I’m Ana, I forgot to mention that yesterday,” the woman noted, before she gestured with her hand towards the blonde, “My girlfriend, Fiona. She’ll be there too,” Ana informed M/n before the couple walked in– followed by the detective who had put some distance between them, while being close enough to keep them in his view. 

Reaching the second floor, M/n saw the couple stop in front of a door– while Ana simply unlocked the door and walked in, the blonde woman Fiona simply threw him an all-over glance before she rolled her eyes and  simply walked in behind her partner. The detective was the last one to enter– ignoring the nasty glare he got from the woman. He was already expecting with maybe a gun pointed in his face, but instead he was met with an open living space. 

The space was decorated in a mix of dark and light colors– like cream, beige and a darker gray. The typical he would say, but there were a lot of green and red decorations which added a pop of color. On a dark grey couch was Ana seated, while the blonde woman was sitting on her lap, not sparing another glance at the man while she seemed more interested in her nails. 

Ana simply gestured towards the plush armchair, in which M/n sat down while keeping his eyes and mind focused, “What do you have for me– which would make this meeting worth its while?” he simply asked, making the woman across from him raise her eyebrows in surprise, “Jumping straight to the point, interesting,” the red haired woman grinned, while a small scoff left the other female, which M/n simply ignored.

“Yes, so what do you have for me?” he leaned back in the armchair, “You’re looking for the ones that are responsible for your murder cases right?” a short nod from the detective, “Well I do have some informations that could be useful for you– but what’s there for me to gain?” Now it was time for Ana to lean back, her eyes focused on M/n while her hands were focused on Fiona. 

M/n couldn’t help but chuckle, “We both know all I can do is not going after anything that might have to do with you–” he let his pointer finger circled near his head, “After all you’re living in the undercity and yet you’re able to afford a rather nice interior and far more security than others in this part of Noxhaven. You have money and it didn’t just drop from the sky into your lap, you’re a criminal after all so you probably have your little ways of living comfortably,” M/n pointed out. 

Ana only shrugged, “Is that really everything? If so– I might keep that request open to anything I might need your help with in the future,” the red head mused, before she let out a sigh and then a smile formed on her lips, “Do we have a deal? You owe me a favor in the future– whenever I see fit, and I give you a little help which might give you a lead on your cases again.”

Yeah, he was indeed desperate to get information.

Sitting in his car, in front of a – new to him – building, M/n had to think if it really was such a good idea after all. A sign hung at the front ‘Fight Club’ were the bold letters making M/n only raise an eyebrow as he was told the fighting clubs for the undercity were in tight wraps – didn’t look like it. M/n stepped out of his car, his hand moved to his pocket that held his cigarettes, contemplating if he should have a small smoke break before stepping foot into the building.

But he decided against it, wandering through the doors into the rather silent warehouse. It was a large open space with a fighting ring in the middle, the stands were empty but the lights were on and shining brightly down onto the middle. E/c eyes took in the new environment, a slight unsettling feeling formed in his gut – he was definitely not alone. Which proved to be right, as a deep voice reverberated in the large open space, “Well, well, well– seems like one club wasn’t enough for you to snoop around, detective.” 

A man with short dark brown hair slowly stepped closer to the light, from the far left corner. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt that framed his muscular body, dark pants and shoes, while a silver necklace and earrings glinted in the low light, giving the clothes a small additional touch. When the man halted in front of the ring, all M/n could see was the smirk that slowly formed on the others lips.

“Looks like it's finally time to put an end to this.”

[t-a-a-1]

More Than Meets the Eye

Ch.2: RedStar Rising Pt.1

TFA Optimus X F!Reader

5k

Summary: Being a rising journalist is difficult. Especially when you have to live a secret criminal life. Things get worst when you start to fall in love with your enemy, Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and hero of Detroit City.

You believe the feelings can't be mutual. Yet, he slowly starts to notice that you are more than meets the eye.

A/N: Lots of yearning. Jealously. Enemies to lovers?? You are a journalist who is also a criminal. Idk. Takes place between Season 1 and 2 of TFA.

Chapter 2 : RedStar Rising Pt. 1

...

Cleaning up the city was not on the Autobots’ favorite thing to do-list. But as they continued to destroy things, there wasn’t much they could do. As Earth’s stemmed guests, and to keep a good Cybertronian-Human diplomacy, they had to do things they weren’t fond of. 

“Come on guys! We can’t slow down!”

They started working in the morning. Non-stop. The sun is starting to die down and the stars are rising. They didn’t have an Energon break. Prime was way too focused on cleaning everything to perfection to even care about his programing demanding fuel. 

“But Boss-Bot, we have been cleaning up piles of junk for hours! We need a break!”

Bumblebee was the first one to complain, but it’s all it took for the rest to follow along. 

“I would certainly need some oil after this,” Ratchet says as Bulkhead smiles at the thought. He too would be delighted to drink some good quality oil.

“No, we need to finish this first. By tonight.”

Optimus insisted, his voice not like his usual self.

“Optimus, the mind and body needs to be properly rested to continue functioning,” Prowl steps forwards, talking directly to Prime who wasn’t acting like his usual self. “Unless, there is a certain urgency or reason behind why you want to finish this up so quickly?”

Yes, he had other reasons. But that doesn’t mean he is ready to tell them. It was hard to express. He can’t tell them that he wants to cause as little disruption as possible to the humans. More specially to a woman he met not so long ago. Now that he has a broader perspective on things he understands how every single doing has an impact on the city. Tragically, you were right. Earth was a safer place before they arrived. 

But he can’t tell them that. He can’t tell them that the reason behind his desperate need to repair what is broken is to help … even if that help is significantly small. 

“You guys are right, but you all go ahead. I’ll stay and finish this up.”

The Autobots look at each other. With wondering and confused faceplates. 

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely.”

Without much objection the Autobots transformed into their vehicle form. 

“See you at the base then.”

They roll out, leaving Optimus to finish things up. 

He looks around. What used to be a hospital building, a place that was made to heal, was turned into debris. They were lucky that they were able to evacuate the humans that resided inside. But after that, not once, he wondered what happened to them. Were they alright? Were they able to continue their healing process? Were they still … alive?

Up until now, he had paid no attention to that matter. His spark feels ashamed as he remembers his past. 

Ultra Magnus was right … He was no hero. 

Optimus keeps working. Moving big rocks, wires and dust. It was getting late. The night had fallen and the stars decorated the dark sky. He thought of going home, recharging and then coming back early in the morning. But as he was moving the last debris of the night, he found something shining underneath it. A small fragment of the AllSpark. 

He holds it on his servo and before he could call it a night, he feels something impact him from the back. 

Optimus falls to the ground, the fragment escapes from his servo, rolling away from him. Turning slowly, his optics focused on a tall purple figure. 

“Slipstream."

Optimus' voice is weak, the strike behind his back still affecting him. 

The femme bot walks past Optimus, making her way to the fragment. Slowly, picking it up, a proud smile decorated her faceplace. Her snarky pose infuriated the Prime but he was too hurt to do something about it. 

“Well, I’ll be taking this.”

Quickly transforming into her jet form, she flies to the sky while Optimus curses for not being able to keep up with her. 

“Looks like you are not good with lady bots either.”

It’s a full moon. But all he could see was strings of short red hair. Black suit with a white mask and red lipstick that could be as bright as the sun. The figure uses a line-launcher, sending a rope and attaching it to the forehead of the bot who was still laying on the group. Ziplining her way, fearlessly, she ends up right in front of Optimus optics. 

“Thankfully, for you, I could teach better manners.”

A villain or a hero? Optimus couldn’t tell but he had his suspicions. He has the suspicious lady right in front of him. He watches as she elegantly steps in the ground, bringing back her line launcher to her belt. Finally allowing him to stand up straight. 

“And you are?” 

Optimus asks, this was not the best time to be bothered but the woman’s appearance caught his interest. 

“That’s not of importance. I know you and that’s all that matters.”

She speaks in a seductive voice. Her confidence was admirable, being able to stand in front of a giant robot whose intention is unknown was something to be applauded for. 

“And how do you know me?”

Without notice, the mysterious figure uses her line-launcher again, this time pointing at Optimus’ shoulder. Quickly, she moves through the wind and closes the massive height difference. She takes a seat on Optimus’ shoulder, his face-plate quite close. 

“I read about you in the newspaper. Besides, where else would I find such a tall, handsome mech?”

Even when he was aware of his aesthetically pleasing appearance, he still wasn’t used to compliments. In Cybertron, saying such things to other Autobots was not fit in society. On Earth, it was a different story. It was a sign of interest, of courting. And he didn’t know how to feel about that. 

“What do you want?”

“I think we can help each other,” she says, enjoying the fact that she made the Leader of the Autobots blush. “Slipstream and I have unfinished business. But I am kinda small and can’t fight her myself. You help me take her down and I can tell you where she is.”

“What if you just tell me where she is and I do the rest?” Optimus still doesn’t dare to look at her. Instead he focuses on her warm body on his shoulder and her voice near his audio receptors. “No offense but I don’t enjoy putting humans in danger. Much less involve them in Autobot and Decepticon affairs.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit too late for that?”

She looks to the side and Optimus follow’s her eyes. The hospital building was destroyed and still a proof of the irreversible damage the Autobots have caused. Simply because they couldn’t keep their ‘affairs’ within Cybertron. 

“Besides, I am no regular human. I can take care of myself,” she says. “I just need a ride and you need directions.”

Optimus keeps looking at the building. He can rebuild it many times but how many will it be torn down again? How many others would be injured because of his actions? If he accepts, then he might endanger another human life. But if he lets Slipstream have the fragment of the AllSpark, he would be endangering many more. 

“Where to?”

.

.

.

The roads are quiet, especially when there is no path to follow. Just trees and a few hills to go around. This time, Optimus has decided to take more into consideration a person’s safety. This time including a seat belt for the passenger and driver seats. Even when his guest didn’t seem interested in them. 

“You can go faster if you would like,” she puts her legs on his board. Now he notices her heels, pointy.  “I want to get there soon.”

“I would feel more comfortable speeding if you put on the seatbelt.”

Optimus takes a moment to inspect the lady who sits comfortably on his passenger seat. She wore a short black dress made of a fabric that looks shiny but durable. Adjusting to her body, enhancing her curves but also flexible and easy to move around. She also wore black gloves with the palms being red just like the bottom of her heels. 

“Oh, it's the Leader of the Autobots concerned about my safety?” She puts her hand on his shift gear. “I am flattered.”

It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling but he would rather feel the flesh and warmth of human skin and not the coldness of gloves. It’s not like he was craving contact but he wouldn’t mind either. Especially when she was being so gentle about it. 

“Not so long ago, I had a not so pleasant experience with a human who got hurt while she was inside my vehicle mode,” he says. “I just don’t want a repeat.” 

“How considerate of you,” she has a certain curiosity. She touches him in a peculiar way, as if she was afraid to hurt him.  “Are you like this with everyone or just people you like?”

“Does it make a difference?”

“More than you think, bot-boy.”

He can’t believe he is getting nervous. 

“Just tell me what you know.”

The mysterious woman smiles as she stops with the touching. Leaving him wanting for more. 

  “Slipstream has secretly been building copies of herself with an abandoned government laboratory. All she needs is a fragment of the AllSpark to turn her plans into reality.”

“And how do you know this stuff?”

“That’s my job, I just know things. You just have to trust me.”

There is a beeping sound coming from her GPS device. Signalling to them that their desired location was nearby. If they weren’t on a mission, this place could be a nice hangout place. Optimus likes the city but he also enjoys the pretty views of nature. 

“Well, I can’t be very trusting if all you say is vague responses, lady.” 

“Alright then, what if we drop formalities?” she takes her feet off the board, excitement in her voice. “I’ll call you Optimus. Calling you by your first name should build a stronger sense of trust.”

“And what should I call you, then?”

“If we make it out of this alive, I’ll tell you,” she makes a little pause and then puts a string of her hair back in her ear.  “A little something to keep you motivated. Unless you want me to give you something else?”

“What else could I want from an organic?”

“Well, a little affection wouldn’t hurt you,” as if she was reading his mind, she takes one of her gloves off and slowly passes her fingertips through his board, brushing a few buttons on the way.  “When was the last time someone caressed your chassis?”

“That’s not a topic to be discussed with a lady!”

His headlights start blinking, his processor stops functioning for a second. 

“You are so fun to tease, you must be really popular with the femme bots … and ladies alike.”

She whispers way too close to his window, the warmth of her breath against the coldness of his window made him feel … uncertain. 

“Just concentrate on the mission at servos.”

.

.

.

The cave was well hidden. It would have been impossible to find if you didn’t have a localizer. 

Optimus takes a look at the lady in front of him, who blended perfectly with the night. Only the moonlight and the stars illuminated the area. 

“Would it be too late to ask you to stay here and let me handle things?”

Optimus asks once again.  

“The fact that you are even insinuating such a thing is an insult to my persona.”

Optimus ex-vents and looks inside the cave. It’s dark but from here he can hear the steps of Slipstream. 

“You handle Slipstream and I’ll get the AllSpark fragment. Sounds good enough for you?”

She takes out a large metal stick and moves it skillfully. Her eyes land on him, waiting for an answer.

“Let’s do this.”

The element of surprise was their best option as Optimus uses his integrated ion blaster to shoot anything that didn’t look Autobot friendly. Starting with the many duplicates of Slipstream in many capsules. The femme copy of Starscream was not expecting this but she wasn’t going to let him demolish everything she worked for so easily.

“If you are destroying this place, I’ll take you down with it!”

Slipstream clicks a few keys on her massive computer, on the screen, a timer appears. 

One minute until detonation. 

But it was just not that. It had become too late and the Slipstream copies had become alive. 

You were nowhere to be seen but the fragment of the AllSpark was right in the middle of the base. Encapsulated in a crystal case. 

Using his ax, Optimus looks around only to find himself surrounded by copies and not a single trance of you. 

Had you left him behind?

As one of the copies points her integrated laser gun at Optimus, he knew he won’t be able to cover himself from the attack. He just hoped that it wouldn't be strong enough to take him down. 

But as the projectile was about to impact his face plate, he saw a tiny human protecting him. Directing the bullet to the crystal box the AllSpark fragment resided in, shattering into pieces and free to grasp.

“That is as much force as my energy pole will be able to take!” the woman takes out a gun. It didn’t look human-made but as she shot, the damage of the bullet made the same impact as a Cybertronian weapon would. “Get the fragment, I’ll cover you!”

He didn’t hesitate and felt strange at the thought of feeling safe with a human. Regardless, he quickly stretched out a servo while he used his axed to protect any other incoming projectiles. 

30 seconds. 

“A good leader knows when to retreat.”

Slipstream transforms into her jet mode, flying out of the cave with a stream of chemtrails following behind her. It was hard to see now. Projectiles were coming from all directions as the other bot copies kept shooting their ion cannons. 

Optimus gets a hold of the AllSpark fragment. And as soon as he does he transforms into his vehicle mode. Moving in a way where she ended inside on the passenger seat, he adjust the seat belt for her and starts driving.

10 seconds. 

But another projectile was following them. Without taking into consideration Optimus' wishes, the woman in black decides to take off the seatbelt and come out of the window. Climbing on top of him. 

“Are you crazy? Get inside!”

She takes out her energy pole and using all of her strength, she swings it. All the kinetic energy that had been stored from the previous attack has been released by impacting it by the incoming projectile. Not only destroying it but also giving them the impulse that they needed to get out of the cave just in time. 

.

.

.

“Did you see the Slipstream face?! She leaked her exhaust pipe for sure!”

Optimus moves freely as he was excited that this mission went so smoothly. 

“You weren’t too far behind, you looked so worried the moment I didn’t show up.”

The sun is starting to rise. 

After the mission, she insisted on going sightseeing. She knew a spot. An abandoned handing bridge. It wasn’t big compared to the other populated ones but it was peaceful. With pine trees on the side and a small river passing under. The sunrise in front of them. 

Optimus had to mass-displace. Not because the bridge was unsteady or small but because he felt the need to feel a bit closer to her and see the world as she does. 

They sit on the edge of the bridge, their feet hanging as they look into the horizon. 

Both looking at the vastness of the sky, she decides to break the silence. 

“Do you ever miss your home?”

“Yes, all the time. But I know I am doing a greater good for Cybertron if I stay here,” Optimus doesn’t look at her but instead looks at the beautiful scenery in front of him. It was peaceful, something he wanted to protect. 

“The Decepticons are out there planning something. Cybertron and Earth will not be safe if we don't stop them.”

“Would you leave Earth, once that’s done?”

“Well, if there’s nothing left to do here and its people are safe, then yes,” Optimus feels the wind on his faceplate. It’s cold but he doesn’t mind. But he unconsciously gets closer to the lady, shielding her from the winds,  just in case it was too cold for her. “Don’t tell me you’ll miss me?”

“We only met a few hours ago, do not flatter yourself.”

“You have to admit, I think you and I make a good partnership,” Optimus says. “I wouldn’t mind adding an extra member to the team.”

“Sorry, but I do things solo most of the time,” she lets out a heavy sigh, alamo enamored of the view. “Besides I have other things I want to do.”

“What other things, lady?”

She seems hesitant as she takes a few seconds to respond to the question. She took so long to respond that Optimus thought she might not answer. Feeling awkward, he was about to change subject until she spoke again.

“I want to become a writer. Someone who tells the truth,” she says and Optimus finally dares to look at her. He has never been one to find organics to be aesthetically pleasing to look at. However, he has seen humans as squishy and soft looking. He didn’t think of the females to be as winsome as femme bots.

But right now, her eyes shine with the sunlight. And for a moment, Optimus believed he could see the entire universe in her eyes. 

“But to do that, I have to do something first.”

She looks at him, breaking his trance and making a look away. 

“Is there any way I can help?”

She stands up and Optimus immediately hopes she won’t leave him. He had enjoyed their time together and he wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. 

Instead, she stands in front of him. Even after had mass-shifted, he was still 10 feet tall. But he was sitting and this allowed him to see her face to faceplate. She is getting close and she reaches out a hand. Touching his cold frame, moving her fingers through his faceplate, expecting it. Looking directly at his optics, he didn’t mind. Not one bit. 

“Maybe you can … But in a different way.”

Her face gets closer and closer. Her lips touch his faceplate, leaving trails of red lipstick. Optimus was surprised he is letting her have her way. Shouldn’t he feel repulsed? Shouldn’t he have pushed her away? Maybe he has been on Earth too long and has missed the warmth of a partner. 

This wasn’t right. He couldn’t allow himself to indulge with someone he barely knows. But Primus, he was enjoying it too much. Her warmth was a special one. Not even the fragment of the AllSpark on his servo could compare. It was just a speck of heat compared to the touch of your bare lips.

How much he craved for her to just finish his torment and allow him to taste them. 

And as he looks at her, wishing for more, he closes his Optics. Allowing her to do with him as she wished. He just needs a single kiss–

He can’t move. 

“My theories were right,” you say as you give him a small pat on his faceplate. “Men and male bots are so easy to use.”

Optimus tries to move but is unable. Feeling rather dizzy and sleepy. 

“The pheromones on my lipstick can make any living being enter a state of paralysis,” she walks in front of him, effortlessly moving on the edge of the bridge, with agility that made Optimus know that she trained a lot to be able to make moves like that without being afraid. “With some side effects of sleepiness but don’t worry it only lasts a couple of hours.”

“I must thank you. I didn’t expect it to work on Autobots so you were a great test object. But due to your height, I had to use more product,” she makes her way next to him. Grabbing his restarlueus and her hands make her way to his servo. He is helpless against her touch as much as he tries to fight it, he can’t move. 

“Good thing I had built an immune system against it. Otherwise I would also be falling asleep as of right now.”

She opens his right servo, revealing the AllSpark fragment.

“You were absolutely amazing. I’ll be taking this,” she says “And thank you for the help.”

The lady starts to walk away as Optimus’ optics start to slowly close. He can’t believe he had fallen for this. His confusion starts to become anger and betrayal. Two things that should never be mixed together. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she turns to look at him. A devilish smile decorates her face. Now all Optimus wants to do is erase her memories. “A deal is a deal.”

“RedStar.”

She says and that’s all Optimus could remember before falling on his back and drifting on a deep sleep.

.

.

.

There was so much shame on Optimus’ shoulder to even mention what happened to the Autobots. 

But of course, he had to explain in some way or another why he had arrived home until the next day. 

He didn’t mention certain details. Just the basics. And everyone else deemed the night as a simple ‘Boss-Bot Shenanigans.’ Meeting Slipstream, meeting a mysterious lady, teaming up with lady to defeat Slipstream, winning, lady turning out to be a bad person who just used him for her own benefits, lady taking the AllSpark fragment, Optimus paralyzed. The end. 

And Optimus was more than happy to accept his mistake, learn from it and never do it again. 

However, the shame was still present. It was his fault after all. Supid enough to believe that he could ever …

“Do you agree, Prime?”

Captain Carmine Fanzone had invited the Autobots to the police station  to request for their help. He had called a meeting in which all the Autobots had provided their undivided attention. All except for Optimus who was too deep in thoughts. He thought he could ask for details later. It’s not like he can’t say no when humans ask for aid, that's the reason why they are here after all. 

“Yes,” he simply says but that answer didn’t seem too convincing for the Head of Detroit’s Police Department. 

They couldn’t go inside as the place was too small for them. However, they prepared a table for them outside the station. With donuts, and oil. The table was small and they couldn’t eat the donuts but it's not like they were expecting to get a 32 feet tall table just for them. But the warm oil was a nice touch. 

“Well then, just to recap … The American Government has warned us that an anti-robot terrorist group called S.T.E.A.M. plans to launch different attacks on Detroit city to protest against Sumdac’s creations taking over the city,” Fanzone had a white board, explaining the situation. “But we have someone who has an insider on S.T.E.A.M. and they are willing to release information about the location of the attacks.”

“So, you want us to escort this person to meet with the insider?”

Ratchet asks who, although he usually is the one to careless about humans, he knows when something is important and deserves his attention. 

“Yes but to also be ready to dismantle any attacks that might endanger the city.”

“Won’t it be easier for the insider to just tell us the information and we can just go and take down the bombs in the city or whatever?” Bumblebee raises a servo as he looks down at Fanzone. He didn’t have a particular thought about the Captain. He wasn’t good or bad in his opinion. But the fact that he had reached out for help when he wasn’t found by ‘machines’ spoke volumes of the seriousness of the situation. 

“No, they are only willing to talk in person and with the individual they have been exchanging information with,” he points at the board to a picture of a faceless person. “If any police officer goes or is seen, the deal will be off and we will be risking millions of lives.”

He moves his marker to a drawing. A very comical depiction of the police and money. “Whoever decides to escort this person, they also need to keep in mind that you will be escorting 5 Million Dollars. It’s all part of the deal.”

Everyone looks at Optimus who seemed deep in thought. He doesn’t have the luxury of time to think things through but he thought of the many possibilities. Of what could go wrong and how each team member would handle things in case he can’t communicate. 

“I’ll go,” the Prime finally speaks up.  “Bumblee, we will need your speed in case there are multiple bombs to deactivate. Ratchet stays alert in case anyone gets hurt. Prowl, you’ll stay in base to be our main source of communication in case my Comm-Link gets intercepted. Bulkhead, protect Sari and any human who might need assistance. Things might get really bad.”

“Loud and clear Boss-Bot,” Bumblebee salutes as everyone agrees with his plan. 

“Who’s the person who I have to escort?” 

He looks at Fanzone who looks at the entrance of the police station. At the perfect timing, you come out of the doors. Quickly looking around the area, only for your eyes to land on the Autobots and one in particular you did not like.

“...You have to be kidding me.”

Optimus says to himself but it was loud enough for his teammates to hear. 

“Nop,” you say as you walk towards Fanzone.  “Not happening.”

“Ms. (Y/N), we talked about this,” he says. “A police officer can’t go with you, we don’t know what kind of security measures will be taken. If they find out, we’ll be risking the whole city. And you can’t go alone either. What if something happens to you? An Autobot is the perfect cover and protection.”

“Protection? He almost killed me last time we did illegal c–”

You stop talking. Knowing that probably it wasn’t a good idea to tell a police officer about doing illegal car racing with a robot alien. 

“Make out!”

Optimus quickly intercepted, as he also didn’t want Fanzone to know you two did illegal car racing. He didn’t want to give him another reason to dislike the Autobots. 

“We illegally make-out!”

You look at Fanzone at the horrified look on his face. Then there was confusion and then a combination of the two. 

“It’s not what you think!”

Trying to save your reputation, you stand in front of him. But it was futile, in his mind, you had already done other things with the Autobot Leader. 

“I would never do such things with him!”

You point at Optimus who although didn’t know why you were so hectic, he enjoyed your display of distress. 

“Excuse me? You were touching me all night long!” He acts unfazed and even offended. His words only made you redder on the cheeks, it was pleasing to look. “You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“Shut up!”

“What is make-out?”

Bumblebee suddenly asks. 

Optimus wished he knew the answer to that. 

.

.

.

Against your will, tomorrow, Optimus and you will go on a small trip to meet with the S.T.E.A.M insider. 

You lay on your bed, looking at the ceiling as if it had the answers to your problems. 

Your phone rings again.

“I am not doing this anymore.”

You quickly say, you didn’t need to look at the caller’s name. He never missed to call you at the same time. 

“That’s fine but just remember that Alex and his family might receive a visit from us if you don’t cooperate.”

As you hear your ex-lover’s name, your heart aches. They had threatened you with his life before, this past mission you did it because of him. Now his family is getting involved. You had promised a very long time ago to protect the peaceful life he worked so hard to get. 

 “And it won’t be a nice reunion.”

You were tired. You thought you had left your old life behind, that you could start new. But no matter where you go, it always catches up to you. 

“How much more do I have to do for you guys to leave me alone?”

“If you do everything we do, you  might be out faster than you think. You just have to trust us.”

“I have trusted you before and where has that led me?”

“It’s your only option,” he says as he makes a small pause. “Besides, wasn’t the monetary compensation we sent enough for you?”

You look over at the table next to you. Yes, they had given you a good amount of money to live well for the next couple of months for successfully obtaining the fragment of the AllSpark. Dirty money you think of never using it or just donating it to charity. 

“Just a couple more missions. And everyone will be safe.”

You look at the money on your bedside board, next to it, a picture of you, Alex and his family. Your hands were tied. 

“...What kind of mission?”

“I’ll send a package soon with the details.”

Adverting your sight from the picture frame to your wall, you see your black dress. Boots, a pair of gloves, a mask and a short red wig. A symbol of your past. Always a part of you. 

“Welcome back, RedStar.”

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A/N: I’ll get back to the Darkest Hour, it’s just that I finished watching Transformers Animated and it has taken over my brain-rot. 

Sorry for any grammatical and spelling mistakes, I don’t proofread. 

And thank you all for the lovely comments and support! It really helps me to stay motivated to continue writing things that I like to write and you all like to read.

That’s all for now. Until the next story!

Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62083819/chapters/158785846

Previous:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/772153325477117952/more-than-meets-the-eye?source=share

[it-happened-one-fic]

10 Seconds - Floyd

Author Notes: I'm not gonna lie, I had a lot of fun writing this. This fic was pretty much entirely inspired by a scene in chapter 111 in Akagami no Shirayukihime (Snow White with The Red Hair). After I found out that Floyd and Obi had the same voice actor, the temptation was to great for me to resist. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Fluff/ flirtation/ romance/ kind of spoofy/ Reader does have a pushy admirer so be warned on that note

Word Count: 1890

There was something about persistent wanna-be lovers that made one nervous enough to look to even the most shady sources of help. Including Octaveinelle.

“So this young man has been bothering you for…?” Jade trailed off as he looked up from the glass he was currently polishing to where I sat, right in front of him, at the bar.

“A little over a month now, I think.” I frowned as I recounted the numerous times the Pomefiore junior in question had just ‘happened’ to be right where I would inevitably run into him.

 I would be trapped there, having to interact with him and dodging his advances until I was saved by some passerby or thought up a reasonable excuse to leave.

I could’ve gone to Vil for help, considering it was one of his dorm members. But I also didn’t entirely want to put my annoyingly persistent and considerably pushy admirer through quite that much sorrow.

I did, however, want this handled, and me turning him down numerous times as politely as possible simply wasn’t cutting it. Which was why I went to Octavinelle to seek the advice of the infamous tweels. After all, they handled a lot of Azul's issues. Surely they would have advice for handling one persistent admirer.

Floyd let out a low whistle from behind me, causing me to twist slightly to glance at the young man who ought to be sweeping but was now just propped up on the broom’s handle as he shook his head, “Stubborn guy.”

His eyes found mine as a grin crossed his face, and I realized very quickly that I didn’t want to know exactly what Floyd was thinking. That wasn’t really one of his nice grins….

“Come now, Floyd. We can’t exactly blame the poor fool for being quite so smitten with our darling little Prefect, can we?” I almost grimaced at Jade’s teasing tone as I turned in time to catch his mocking, sharp-toothed smile.

“Guys,” I didn’t even bother fighting the whine that slipped into my tone. “I just want some advice. I can’t get him to go away, and I’ve already tried being blunt.”

Jade smiled in an indulgent manner down at me before a frown crossed his face, “I suppose it is rather problematic and concerning if he’s been at it this long.”

He sat the glass down with a tiny clink on the bar as he continued to ponder my plight, “You said he’s a Pomefiore student?”

I nodded, wondering exactly what Jade was thinking as Floyd slipped up next to me, propping himself on the bar, “Should I just scare him off? That’d probably do it.” 

Floyd sounded perfectly willing to do just that as he looked at me with that sharp-toothed grin of his before looking towards his brother. 

But he was soon frowning in confusion as Jade started to shake his head with a slight frown, “No, if he’s as determined as I fear, then I doubt that would solve the problem for little more than three days.”

That mocking smile appeared on Jade’s face again, even though he wasn’t actually looking at either me or his brother, as he continued, “Besides. Those Pomefiore boys are the schooling sort. Always flitting about in a group. If we tried aggression, he’d just come back with his friends, and that would make things more difficult for you, wouldn’t it, Prefect?”

He looked towards me as he finished, and I nodded glumly, “A squad probably would make it tougher.”

Especially since Pomefiore squads were known to be aggressive. Turning him down in front of his posse could be risky at best.

A chuckle slipped from the vice-housewarden’s lips as he smiled at me, “Now, now. There’s no need to make such a face. The solution is really quite simple, isn’t it?”

I perked up at his words, looking at him hopefully before I frowned once I noticed his grin, “What’s it gonna cost?”

The twins laughed together, their voices joining in a strange harmony that made me tense ever-so-slightly. 

“Oh, it’ll be on the house this time. After all, this will be most amusing for both of us.” Jade’s words seemed to surprise Floyd as much as they did me.

Unperturbed by our obvious confusion, Jade leaned forward with an undoubtedly conspiratorial grin. Propping himself on his elbows as he gestured both of us closer with a single flick of his long fingers, “Listen closely…..”

And that was what had brought me to this moment, as I let out a quiet exhale before rounding the corner.

I didn’t even have to worry about setting the guy up. I knew exactly where he’d be.

Propped up on the wall in that careful pose he was always in when he was waiting for me to come and just ‘happen’ to bump into him.

And sure enough, there he was. Leaning against the wall with one arm raised so that he had me slightly caged in from the very second I rounded the corner.

“Prefect! What a surprise,” His perfectly white teeth flashed almost blindingly, and I fought not to gag at the raw amount of perfume he was wearing. 

It was a good thing he hadn’t brought his posse; I probably would’ve passed out from the raw amount of perfume that would’ve been in the air.

But I smiled. Pretending to be surprised and not at all frustrated by his persistent, unwanted affections as I carefully went back through the plan that Jade had laid out in my head.

Interact with him like everything was normal while waiting until reinforcements came, and then follow those very simple directions that Jade had given.

So I waited. Awkwardly exchanging pleasantries and smiling up at the young man who now leaned increasingly closer despite how much I would like him to say far away. He was no doubt about to drop some sort of new line that was intended to sweep me off my feet but would be far more likely to make me grimace.

And right as he opened his mouth with a grin that spoke of some very misplaced confidence, I heard the exact thing I’d been waiting for.

“Shrimpy~” Floyd’s sing-song call came from behind me, and I turned so fast that I almost missed the deep frown that appeared at impressive speeds on my admirer’s face.

“Floyd!” I didn’t have to fake my joy at seeing him, though I couldn’t say the same for him considering that Floyd himself looked entirely bored as he looked towards the Pomefiore junior that now stood stiffly silent. Already frustrated by the mere presence of Floyd.

For a brief moment, I was honestly worried about how well Jade’s scheme was going to go over until Floyd’s gaze shifted and his eyes met mine. Because then there was an entire change to his person.

His gaze softened ever so slightly, and his lips twitched up in an absentminded smile as he walked over, all but cooing at me affectionately, “There you are.”

He didn’t stop until he was right next to me, looking down at me, and then I knew the moment of truth was upon us.

I could hear Jade’s amused voice in my head as I braced myself, swallowing as I recalled his words: “Ten seconds. You will need to stare into each other’s eyes for ten seconds. But that’s all it will take.”

Floyd was far calmer than I was as he slipped off his blazer and draped it over my shoulders, blocking the cool breeze that came through the open window.

 His voice was quieter than usual, though still playful as he spoke, “There you go; can’t have you getting cold.” And that was my cue that we were beginning.

One.

My hand reached up to tug his oversized jacket a little closer around my body, and my hand brushed lightly against his fingers that lingered at my shoulders.

Two. Three. Four.

I twisted just a little bit more so that I could look at him better as his hand slid down my arm so that his arm was wrapped around my shoulders.

Five. 

It was already getting sort of awkward to keep staring for this long into Floyd’s mismatched eyes for this long. But now I was beginning to think more about the color of his irises than the actual situation we were in.

Six. Seven.

One was a yellow color. Not a sickly yellow, but rather it was a warmer color that made me feel oddly safe considering the young man I was looking up at. The other eye was a surprisingly gentle olive that was also welcomingly familiar and spoke of how, in certain moments, Floyd himself could actually be quite gentle.

Eight. Nine.

I could feel numerous people staring at us, and I was fairly certain that one of them was definitely Jade. He was probably utterly delighted by how uniquely embarrassing this really was. Because even though I’d been prepared to feel a little self-conscious, I hadn’t been expecting to be this flustered. Especially since it was just Floyd….

Ten.

Floyd’s smile grew by just a fraction, and then he blinked, “I reckon I’ll see you later. I know you can’t miss your class. Good little student that you are~” He let go of my arm with an affectionate squeeze as he continued to look down at me. But this time with amusement in his gaze and a teasing lilt to his voice.

I swallowed down my overwhelming shyness as I looked away, blinking as I attempted to force my recovery by focusing on his teasing. 

But even then, my voice wobbled as I quipped back, not quite able to look back up at him, “Unlike you, I actually have to study to keep my grades up.”

Out of my peripheral vision, I could tell he was fully grinning now, “Aww, if you ever need help, you can just ask. If you're nervous about Azul, I can help you out.”

He leaned down and into my line of sight so that he could wink at me, and I let out an exhale. Reminding myself that this was Floyd I was dealing with. Not some incredibly romantic male lead who was here to sweep me off my feet and actually be successful.

Which brought me back to my admirer, who was still standing there, staring in open-mouthed shock. 

“Ex- Excuse me, I lost track of time with Floyd and really do need to get to class now,” I  was still flustered enough that I stammered slightly before I flashed him an apologetic grin before I trotted off. 

As I fled the scene, I passed a chuckling Jade and mouthed a quick, ‘Thank you,’ before hurrying on. Attempting to outrun the oddly shy sensation I now felt at the thought of being near Floyd and entirely missing what happened behind me as I fled the scene.

“You haven’t gotten anywhere in a month, and it only took me ten seconds.” So saying, Floyd glanced down at the Pomefiore student, who almost immediately puffed up with indignance that quickly deflated as Floyd grinned in a way that perfectly displayed his too-sharp teeth.

“You might as well just try somewhere else, ‘cause you aren’t going to be stealing Shrimpy away from me anytime soon.”

[uriekukistan]

alright i've been seeing so much megumi hate recently, and especially after the new chapter (not on here, mostly twitter youtube and tiktok), so as president of the megumi defense squad, here is my dissertation defending him against the bum allegations.

i've seen a lot of people comparing megumi's situation to yuuji in shibuya, and saying that megumi should be able to "just get up and keep fighting," so i'm going to tell you why this is not a fair comparison, and give some context on yuuji's "recovery" from shibuya that i feel people are missing when they say this. this is quite lengthy, sorry in advance

i. fundamental differences in the ways in which yuuji & megumi view saving people

yuuji wants to save everyone. he wants to save as many people as he can because of what his grandfather said to him on his deathbed. this is what kickstarted the events of jjk. if yuuji hadn't felt this way, he never would have eaten that finger to say some guy he met an hour ago, which is another point. yuuji cares for people easily. he threw his life on the line to save megumi immediately after meeting him. he mourned junpei, who he spent all of a few hours with in total like he had known him for years.

this is very different from megumi, who both does not get attached to people easily, and does not care to save everyone. he only cares to save people he deems worthy, and as far as we know, this list consists of only tsumiki and yuuji. its even unclear if he feels this way about nobara or gojo, despite them also being relatively important in his life. as you can see, when he thinks about saving people by his conscience, the only two characters shown are tsumiki and yuuji.

this is why he sometimes gets some criticism for not doing a half-assed job as a sorcerer, but i think its important to remember that he does not actually want to be a sorcerer, only doing it out of necessity to keep tsumiki from the zen'in clan. the times where we do see him taking things seriously are when yuuji and/or tsumiki's lives are what's at stake.

so in shibuya, after watching his own hands slaughter innocent people, and watching nanami and nobara die, yuuji is able to keep going because there are still more people who need to be saved, and he wants to save everyone. in contrast, megumi has watched his own hands kill one of the two people that he cares about saving, and severely maim the other one, so what is there to keep fighting for, given the way he views the world?

and i think it's also important to note that megumi has not been aware of his surroundings since sukuna v yorozu, so saying that he should get up now to save yuuji is not reasonable because he doesn't even know yuuji is there.

ii. the environment yuuji was in in shibuya vs the environment megumi is in right now

now none of that is to say that yuuji did not also break down and want to give up in shibuya, because he absolutely did (actually, im not sure if this is canon or just my theory, but the reason he did not switch back with sukuna at the detention center was because he wanted to give up), but the circumstances were way different

within minutes of watching nanami and nobara die, todo & nitta were there to encourage him and get him back on his feet (most of that was due to todo, but nitta was also telling yuuji not to lose hope).

meanwhile, megumi has been alone for over a month now, save the few seconds in 251 where i'm pretty sure he didn't even know yuuji was there, with nothing but his own misery to keep him company. sukuna took over his body and killed tsumiki with megumi's technique on november 16th. the shinjuku showdown takes place on december 24th. that's over a month stewing in guilt and mourning with no one to support him at all. that makes it a lot more difficult to bounce back quickly like that.

iii. more context on yuuji

even after todo's little pep talk that gave him the strength to get up and finish mahito off, yuuji didn't just "bounce back" and stand up to keep fighting in the way people think he did. in the days following the shibuya incident, he was really directionless, probably a bit reckless, because he genuinely didn't know what to do with himself, and didn't know if he even deserved to be alive. in my personal interpretation of yuuji immediately post-shibuya, if it weren't for choso, he would have likely lost his life, as he just showed a lack of self-regard in those days following. just one example:

it's not until megumi shows up again that yuuji finds a direction to go, and even then, he's operating with the mindset that once everything is over, megumi and tsumiki are safe, and gojo is unsealed, he will die and stop causing trouble for everyone.

so again, i think the megumi/yuuji comparison as a way to hate on megumi is not fair, both because there are important differences in the way they think and their situations, and because yuuji's reaction post shibuya isn't quite as resolved and strong as people make it out to be. this is not to say that yuuji is not strong! he absolutely is, just to point out that he, like megumi, was/is also lacking the will to live, and there's nothing wrong with that! wanting to give up is a completely reasonable reaction to being in this situation as an ADULT, let alone at 15 years old.

if you've made it this far, thank you for listening to me ramble 🙏 pls let me know any of your thoughts as well, i'd love to chat about this!

[kookiestarlight]

the main reason I left tumblr a few years ago was because I no longer had time in my life to dedicate to writing. despite how busy life got for me from that point I made an effort to try and stay a little longer and at the end of the day if I wasn’t too exhausted enough I would try to do a little writing or planning for my fics, because after all, the biggest reason why I used to write was because it felt like a little escape from life and it’s genuinely something I enjoy doing, however, that doesn’t mean that some days, even with it being a fun little hobby, it can become difficult.

sometimes I feel too exhausted, sometimes I get tired of what I’m writing when I’m already midway and give up on it, sometimes I’m unmotivated and lose excitement, sometimes every idea that comes to mind just seems trash or unviable for me to create and sometimes I simply go blank, and even though I may want to write, I just sit in front of my screen for an hour and nothing comes, and sometimes if I pressure myself too much with it, it can feel like work. and honestly, I work two jobs and the last thing I want is for writing to be a job too.

I’ve really never wanted writing to feel that way for me. the small moments I do get to write now feel more precious to me, because I’m doing it because I truly want to. Of course, if I decide to share my writing and stories on here, it comes with some responsibility to make something good, thought out, unique, fun and enjoyable for others. Don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t make the process of writing any less fun, but it does make it more time consuming, planned out and more of task. and it adds on the added pressure of having to have it done and posted often or within a certain amount of time. So due to all the factors I stated earlier, it can be harder to achieve, especially because of my lack of time to dedicate to it. just so you guys can get the picture, I have four free days in a month give or take, even if I dedicated those days entirely to writing, it would still take me plenty of time.

I knew it would be a struggle to come back here and try to make something like a series, because let’s be real, unless I finish the whole thing first and then decide to post it, you guys would probably have to wait a while between chapters, which can lead to you guys getting frustrated, bored, or impatient for more, which I completely understand — I’ve obviously also been a fic reader back in my day lol.

and I also know that I don’t owe anyone anything on here, and that I don’t have to explain myself. because this is something I’m doing out of my own will for free. but one of the other main reasons why I left tumblr in the past was because of insensitive, entitled and rude comments. which I have already begun to receive again.

I know I have changed the release date of my series lines of fate for months. and I truly apologize, my mistake! turns out, I made the mistake of posting the announcement too early when I only had half of the chapter done (which was a breeze and was mostly written years ago) and I though the rest would flow in the same way. (surprise! it didn’t!) but life doesn’t always flow as planned. I also lost a very dear family member during christmas, which as you can understand set writing to the bottom of my priority list.

I’ve had very little time to work on it but when I have had time to sit down and write, I’ve just hated everything I’ve written, I’ve become stuck, and it’s just been a rather slow process, because I’ve been simultaneously working on the second chapter and trying to finish it also so I don’t have to leave you guys hanging too long after I post the first.

anyway, I’ve received some not so nice comments about why it hasn’t been posted yet, and it just really makes me wonder if it worth to open myself up to posting again, which if I haven’t already mentioned already feels quite nerve wracking for me to begin with lol. for some of you it will just feel like excuse after excuse, but all I can do is explain the honest truth of my situation with you, (which again, I shouldn’t even have to) but it doesn’t sit right with me to just let some loser on here call me a lazy ass and demand things from me. It would be nice to see you live a day in my shoes and then talk.

I used to see this happen a lot with other writers too in the past when I spent way more time on here, and it’s still just so weird and baffling to me. I kind of thought things may have changed but🤡 so please, stop and have a think, and try being more considerate the next time you‘te about to leave anyone a mean message hiding behind anonymity. you’re entitled to your opinions but you’re never entitled to ruin someone’s day.

the first chapter is done and coming and I’m working on the second one. I won’t give any more updates and my anons will remain off until I post the first chapter. and I just want to say the response to the announcement of lines of fate has been insane to me!!🥹 thank you to everyone that’s been sweet, has shown excitement for my stories and has helped me stay motivated in this process, you’re truly stars ⭐️🫶🏻

besitos 💌

[jestersprivilegee]

High and Dry | ch. 4

thomas j. x reader

warnings: swearing, lowk me being a therapist for myself

Wc: 3.6k

A/n: to anyone who reads or interacts with my work: thank you so so much for the support. Seriously. Reading y’all’s comments genuinely makes my day so much better. The authors curse has been hitting but y’all fr give me a reason to keep going. So thank you. Anyway enjoy the chapter 😝

“How are things?” You therapist, Suzanne, asked.

A half-hearted shrug was given, and you shifted on the blue sofa she had. It was the kind of couch that was so comfortable you could sink into it for eternity and be fine like that. It made you consider stealing it—or buying one for yourself, which was probably the more logical option. You were almost scared to ask her where she got it, because you knew it would be way out of your price range. “Things have been a little rough lately, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Liar. She knew you were lying. You knew you were bluffing, too, because everything is always hard to handle. Despite that, Suzanne crossed her legs, patience creased in her eyebrows. Opening up had always been a difficult task; nothing ever came easy, especially after the trauma of having the one person you trust turn on you, and especially when your birth giver was the cause of so much insecurity and doubt in your life. Suzanne was always lenient with your struggles. It would take a bit of warming up during therapy sessions for you to really start pouring out the emotions that had built up. She worked around your brief answers by letting her questions breathe, then digging a little deeper.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me about?” She tilted her head. You tried to ignore how the rhythmic ticking of the clock was irritating you.

“My mom called. Well, her ward did, then I spoke to her,” you rambled, hugging a navy blue pillow to your chest. “But she wants me to visit and I’m just… I’m not ready. I don’t know if I can speak to her quite yet.”

Concern wrinkled into her tan skin. “Is there a reason why you don’t feel ready yet?”

“I’ve just been overwhelmed lately. It’s been hard to even deal with myself, let alone other people.” You picked at your cuticles, a nervous habit you developed in middle school that stuck around.

She paused for a moment to see if you’d say anything else, but upon hearing silence, she spoke. “You told me you started a new job at a high school. How has the environment been treating you? Do you think the start of a new school year could be an attribute to your stress?” Her eyes flickered to the fidgeting of your fingers.

Right. Work. Thomas. How could you forget about him?

“It’s been fine. We just finished the first week, actually. A lot of the people I’ve met have been good to me so far, but there’s just one minor inconvenience,” you winced. She waited for you to continue. “Thomas, the guy I used to be friends with in high school that caused me to be bullied, is the other teacher I have to work with the entire year. And, um… it hasn’t been pretty.”

“That’s great that you’re surrounded by a lot of good coworkers! It’s important to have a supportive circle. As for Thomas—It must be hard to face him after all this time. I’m sorry it hasn’t been going well. How have your conversations with him been?” She jotted something down on her sky blue notepad, paired with a fancy blue pen. The woman was obsessed with blue, if you couldn’t tell.

“Bitter. A little teasing, but they usually all end in some form of argument.”

“What do these arguments consist of?”

You paused. “The incident. How he hurt me. I can’t let him forget what he did and act like everything is fine and dandy while I suffer.”

She took a sip of herbal tea, scribbling a few words. The lemon scent wafted from the liquid, soothing your tangled brain. “Do you think,” she said, “that you can’t let him forget because you can’t let yourself forget?”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is you seem to really hold on to what happened all those years ago. There’s something holding you back, keeping you from fully healing.” She explained, looking up from her notes. You could never decipher how old she was; her curly black hair and flawless olive skin made her look like she could pass for twenty-five, but the analytical, empathetic wisdom she carried herself with was far too mature for that to be true. “It might do you some good to let it go so you can find peace.”

Your lips tugged downward.

“I know it’s easier said than done,” she continued, “but it is possible. You cannot let the past control you. Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting, it means that you stop carrying the energy of the past into the present. We can definitely discuss some strategies to live in the present moment when you’re ready. For now, I’d like for you to tell me about how he is now compared to the past.”

Squirming uncomfortably, you nodded. “He’s different from when we were kids. In a good way, I suppose. He’s still very temperamental, but it seems like he’s better at managing it now. He’s changed a lot,” a soft smile appeared on your face without realizing it, “but he’s still the same guy I befriended.”

A brief silence filled the office, letting both you and her digest what you said. “If he apologized, genuinely apologized, would you forgive him?” She asked. Suzanne was straightforward, she didn’t sugarcoat her questions which you appreciated. You needed the push.

The question hung in the air while you weighed it. Considered it. “I don’t know. Probably? I want to. But I just—if the old me could hear me right now, she’d probably freak out at the possibility of forgiving him.” A dry chuckle left you, although it wasn’t real.

“My dear, the old you no longer exists. That part of you is what’s stopping you from growing. The question is what would you say if he apologized?”

Goddamnit, she hit the nail right on the fucking head.

“I… I would forgive him. I would forgive him if he apologized.” You repeated, firmer. It surprised you that when you said those words, they were true. The choice of forgiveness was so freeing, and saying it out loud confirmed those feelings.

A satisfied smile grew on her red-tinted lips, and she leaned back. “Acknowledging that is a great first step towards healing. I’m proud of you. Now I have to ask, has he done anything recently to show he’s trying to change?”

A warm surge of confidence swelled in you when she said she’s proud. It wasn’t something you grew up hearing. You took a moment to bask in the feeling, then responded to her question. “I guess—I guess he brought me coffee, if that counts for anything.”

“That’s a sweet gesture,” she commented.

You stared at the picture hanging on the wall behind her, depicting her kids when they were younger. “Yeah.” You blanked, “it was my favorite kind. I don’t know how he remembered my favorite. It’s been years since I’ve seen him and it was the exact order I still get to this day.”

She took another sip of her tea. “It sounds like he is trying, then. I know it will be hard, but show him a little mercy. And give yourself grace, too.”

A reluctant frown formed on your face, but you nodded anyway. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” She smiled. “Would you be ready to talk about those strategies now?”

You acquiesced, and for the rest of the session that’s exactly what you did.

—

“Okay, class, since my partner in crime only wants to review this week, that’s what we’re doing,” you announced.

The room was rearranged to have every desk in groups of four, with plastic baggies that had a set of task cards in them. The assignment was to match a title card to its descriptor. They were to work in groups of either three or four, letting them choose who to work with because you’re not evil.

“Call me over when you’re done so I can check it!” After giving instruction, the room erupted into light chatter. You sat at your desk, taking attendance and eavesdropping on conversations.

There were some… questionable discussions happening. You had to ignore a lot of foul language, penis jokes, and friends that were ripping on each other. This continued up until fourth period; Thomas’s lunch while you had class.

The door pushed open, and every student paused for a second to inspect whoever was entering. Upon seeing it was another teacher, they quickly went back to their task at hand. Thomas glanced around the classroom before strutting to your desk.

“I thought about it a little more, and if you really want, we can start readin’ To Kill a Mockingbird this week,” he said, leaning against the table. The sleeves to his black polo were rolled up, revealing every detail of his forearms. It was one of those oddly attractive things men do, and you hated how it was him who was doing it.

Your eyes lit up, and a bright smile grew on your lips. “Really? What made you change your mind?”

He glanced away in a sheepish manner. “Thought a week of review might be a little extreme. Figured we could introduce it to ‘em on Thursday.”

His answer was vague, but you weren’t complaining. You got what you want. Now what you really wanted to know was what led him to change his mind?

“Okay, yeah—sure, Thursday works,” you stammered, trying to keep your voice level. For some odd reason, you found your eyes wandering to his chest where he had the top button undone.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said, eyes flickering to your hair. “You have somethin’…” he trailed off, reaching up and picking out a spec of lint, his touch featherlight against your head. The hitch of your breath didn’t go unnoticed by him.

The action was small, insignificant, but your cheeks flared with embarrassment in response. All of a sudden, the classroom was too hot and he was too close and your clothes were itchy and why was his cologne so intoxicating?

He straightened up, scanning your appearance, not saying much else. Reality of where you were and who he was hit. There were a few hushed whispers of students around the room, only a handful having seen the encounter. Most were too engrossed laughing with their friends to notice Jefferson was still here. For a moment, you wondered what else he would say if the classroom were empty, if it were just you and him alone. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case.

So you calmed your racing heart and came to your senses. What Suzanne had told you about showing him a little mercy echoed in your head. Forgiveness, you reminded yourself. Forgive and forget. It won’t happen overnight, and it sure as hell won’t happen now, but if you want to heal you have to make conscious efforts every day.

“I’ll speak to you later?” He asked, a hopeful undertone as he tried to play off what just happened.

“Y-yeah,” you whispered, watching him retreat back to his classroom right next door. How he managed to seem so unaffected was beyond you.

You were freaking out more than you wanted. It didn’t help that one of the girls closest to your desk turned to you, her gaze full of mischief and curiosity. “Are you and him together?” She asked.

Immediately, your eyes flew wide open. High schoolers are a different type of beast. The confidence that the popular, pretty volleyball girls have is unmatched by society. Seriously, they have no shame in walking up to somebody and just talking. The temerity in her question also astounded you; if you had asked your teacher that when you were a freshman, she’d probably slap you.

Drawing in a sharp breath, you spoke steadily. “No, Mr. Jefferson and I are not together. We’re just fr—coworkers,” you paused mid sentence. It was too early to consider Jefferson your friend. Even an acquaintance would be too far.

She raised a quizzical eyebrow, clearly not convinced. Her friends behind her snickered, and that moment sent you back twelve years ago when you were sixteen and every girl in class would laugh at you. A sense of dread gnawed at your stomach.

“I think he likes you, Ms. L/n,” she said, snapping you out of your flashback. “You’d be a power couple.”

Okay, pause. What kind of high schooler tries to set their teacher up with another teacher? Kids these days really don’t fear any sort of repercussions for their actions. Then again, this girl in particular already established herself as a troublemaker.

You snorted. “There are more important things to be doing than trying to play matchmaker with staff. Like, for example, are you done with your work? Because I can see from right here that you only have two cards paired up.”

“We’re like—halfway there,” she mumbled, giggling with her friends. You sighed, perking up when another group raised their hands, signaling their completion. It gave you the perfect excuse to focus on anything other than Thomas Jefferson.

It being even plausible that you and Thomas would be a power couple was insane. Far as you’re concerned, he still never apologized properly. You weren’t ready to be anything more than coworkers, and these asshole teenagers were suggesting he ‘likes you.’ It’s a bunch of crap. Just teens thirsty for drama.

—

You staggered into the teacher workroom, desperate for the chicken wrap you brought for lunch. Lafayette and Laurens were already sitting in there, chatting with each other.

“Y/n! Ami, join us,” Lafayette waved you over.

Exhausted, you smiled and joined them. “Hey guys, y’all doing okay?”

“Yeah, are you? You look like you crawled through a dumpster to get here,” John teased. Laf kicked his shin, eliciting a groan from Laurens as pain shot up his leg.

“Okay, asshole.” Despite his insult, you laughed, knowing he meant no real harm. Plus, it felt good to have someone who was comfortable enough to make those kinds of jokes and know you won’t get hurt by it. “But yes, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Aren’t we all?” Lafayette hummed, popping a grape into his mouth. “A kid told another student he wanted to tuez-le avec un marteau. I don’t know where he learned zat. I certainly did not teach him ‘ow to say zat.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at John for clarification on what the hell Lafayette just said.

“He said ‘kill you with a sledgehammer.’” Laurens said without missing a beat. You sputtered, nearly choking on your food.

“Jesus Christ. That’s—wow. Did you report it?” You said, an incredulous laugh escaping you. Again, high schoolers are fucking insane. Most of the time, they were joking, but being mandated reporters and all, you have to speak up about those kinds of things.

“Oui. I ‘ave no other choice. I can’t just let zem walk around threatening each other with improvised weapons! It’s only the second week, and I already ‘ave to deal with zis?”

You hummed sympathetically. “I feel you. My fourth period was… interesting, to say the least.”

“Oh yeah? What happened?” John asked, sharing a knowing glance with Lafayette. Rumors had already circled around from students gossiping to teachers, which in turn led to teachers gossiping to teachers. They had a general idea of what your relationship status is.

“Well, Thomas came in to tell me something, and then afterwards a girl asked me if we were together,” you said, “can you believe it? Then she suggested that he ‘likes me’ and that we would be a power couple! I mean, c’mon, what kind of student plays Cupid with her teachers?”

Lafayette chuckled, shoving a forkful of salad in his face. “It’s kind of believable. Who knows, maybe he does like you?” He smirked, his gaze darting to Laurens. No way he actually thinks that.

“Please don’t tell me you actually believe that,” you groaned. “I would never even look at Thomas like that. Uh-uh.” Really? Because you were looking at him like that on your first day here, before you knew it was him. Clearly there’s some underlying attraction you’re not recognizing.

The Frenchman shrugged, “never say never, mon ami.”

Your eyes narrowed at the mockery he made of you. Who the hell does he think he is, trying to spark something that isn’t there? Something that you would never let happen?

“In other news,” John started. It was starting to become tense at the table, and he figured a change of subject would do some good for the sanity of everyone. “On friday, we’re getting a bunch of teachers to go out to a bar. It’s a little ritual we do at the start of every year. You should join us!”

Worn out nerds all getting drunk together? Sounds like a damn good time right there. “That sounds fun,” you grinned.

He went on to tell you the location, what time to show up, and that you better come because he’s counting on doing shots with a new friend. Somehow, it escalated into the story of how him and Charles Lee got into a fight. You recalled him talking about it on your first day meeting him, but he never went into detail.

“—sayin’ Washington was a bad principal ‘n shit. And I’m not about that, Washington was way better than George, so I told him to keep his mouth shut or I’d make him.” A thing you noticed about John was how animated he was. He talked with his hands, and when he got worked up, his Brooklyn accent was very prominent. Although he did mention he was from South Carolina, so how he developed a New York accent was interesting. “It was almost Alexander that got into the fight, actually. But I got a little temperamental, and well… you saw how that ended up.” He laughed, nudging Lafayette who did the same.

“Lots of good times at zat bar,” Lafayette hummed. “You will ‘ave fun, Y/n, we are ze best drunk teachers you will ever meet.”

—

The overhead lights to Thomas’s room were off, leaving the faerie lights and lamps as the only source of illumination. Reluctantly, you knocked to signal your entrance. He glanced up from his computer, and you could’ve sworn his eyes lit up at the sight of you, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey,” you awkwardly shuffled in. It was rare you would go into his classroom; being in it felt like stepping into uncharted territory.

“Hey yourself,” he stopped typing, leaning back in his swivel chair. “Somethin’ I can do for you?”

“Just came in to ask about your plan for the book,” you answered, hesitantly pulling up a plastic chair.

His face hinted at disappointment, his shoulders dropping the tiniest bit. “Right. Well, I was thinkin’ to explain to them the background, the characters, and the historical context before readin’ the first chapter. Then I thought about assigning a character sheet for them to fill out as we go along.”

“Sounds good to me,” you nodded. “So I see you decided to finally take my advice, huh?”

“Oh shush,” he rolled his eyes. “I came to this conclusion on my own. You had nothin’ to do with my thought process.”

“Mm, sure I didn’t,” amusement and sarcasm laced your tone.

“‘M bein’ serious. The world don’t revolve around you, y’know,” he huffed, folding his arms over his chest. Okay, so did you have a thing for forearms or something? Because why were his arms so attractive when he barely did anything?

“I like to think it does.”

“Yeah, I know you do.”

A playful defiance shot your eyebrows up. “Care to elaborate on what that means, exactly?”

“Sweetheart, I would tell you, but I’m scared you might hurt me. Some things are better left unsaid,” he scoffed. The pet name slipped by his lips so naturally, he didn’t act like he noticed he said it. You didn’t want to reveal how much of an effect it had on you, because Thomas Jefferson calling you sweetheart is not something that should affect you. Not at all.

If anything, it pissed you off and oddly enough comforted you at the same time. Physically, you grimaced immediately, but internally your heart skipped a beat.

“I’m sure you know a lot about leaving things unsaid, sweetheart,” you mocked. His face fell, contorting into a mixture of discomfort and irritation.

“Y/n,” he warned, “let’s not start an unnecessary argument. We were just becomin’ friends.”

“I wouldn’t go that far to classify us as friends,” you retorted. That’s right! Stand your ground, ignore everything your therapist said about forgiveness, and continue to berate him every possible chance! “Maybe getting along.”

Hurt flashed on his face, and he bitterly grumbled, “Right. We wouldn’t want to get too close, would we?”

For a second, you regretted your actions. Was it possible that you were doing more harm to him now than he did in high school? Was holding onto a lifelong grudge really how you wanted to spend the rest of the year? Apparently, because despite the back of your subconscious mind whispering that it wasn’t right to hold it against him, you said, “No we would not.”

Tension filled the air. It was thick, uncomfortable, suffocating. You didn’t want to be there anymore, with him, focusing on all the negatives while he tried to be positive. So you stood. “I think I better be leaving now. See you tomorrow, Jefferson.”

His gaze lingered on you, a tight frown forming. “Lookin’ forward to it, L/n.”

[alonelystargazer]

WIP Wednesday

yay I finally have something to share for wip wednesday! This is definitely the last sneak peek for my ItaFushi postcards fic, Take This Lonely Heart, because it's finally finished and I'm in the process of editing it. I think I'll be able to post it next Monday!

I wanna share some thoughts I've had during this entire writing process.

I know this is technically the correct way to format paragraphs for literature, but I still don't know if I like this style. I'm so used to the 'no indentations and space between paragraphs' style, but I wanted to try it out, and well I've tried it out, but I might change it back.

Honestly, I'm kinda scared that this fic won't get a lot of attention, for one reason or another, maybe readers won't like my interpretations of character or ship dynamic, or the actual premise or plot of the story is boring or whatever. As much as I keep reminding myself that I'm writing for myself first, I won't lie and say I don't want or care about getting attention from readers. I like to believe that I put a lot of thought and care into crafting this world and it would be upsetting if it flopped.

At the same time, though, I don't want anyone, including my beloved mutuals, to read it for my sake or out of obligation because we're friends. Read it because you like it! I won't be offended or sad if anyone were to drop the story at any point. In fact, I think it's better that way because it won't be wasting your time and I won't get my feeling hurt because it's just a pity read.

I say this especially considering I'll be exploring more mature themes, some of which are pretty personal, like my relationship to alcohol, or trouble with career/work or relationships, loss and grief. I'll also make sure to add any content or trigger warnings before each chapter and in the tags.

And something new-ish to me when it comes to my fic writing is showing more suggestive/sexual stuff. I haven't decided at this point how explicit I'll get, but there will be at least some discussion about sex. I know some people don't like it when characters that are 'minors' in canon get aged up in fanfics, especially in M or E rated fics, so if you're not comfortable with that, it's totally fine to skip my story. The JJK characters in my fic will be in their early-mid 20s (the ages they would be currently), they go to uni and have jobs, and yeah they will be talking about dating/relationships/sex/love, but that's not all of it. I want this to be a coming of age type of story.

I have a fic playlist, which I'll be sharing when I post the first chapter. I've also been tinkering with canva to create a banner graphic. It's not that difficult to create, so maybe I'll keep making them for future chapters. If anything, it's just fun to let my creativity flow!

Anyway, if anyone read this whole thing, thanks! And thanks to my mutuals who have expressed interest in my story. Even if you don't read it or like it, I'm just glad for the support I was given, it really helped to motivate me!

[sunnyrealist]

Chapter 65: Irises and Yellow Roses

The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars

Summary and Details…

Previous Chapter Recap/Context: Everyone has left the Three Broomsticks to give Sebastian and Ominis some privacy to catch up on their own. Ominis explained how he and Anne fell in love, what their marriage was like, and how her health greatly improved over the years. He then recounted the events preceding her sudden death. Anne had become determined to have children to continue the Sallow family line; she didn't wish for it to end in tragedy. Deliberately going against Ominis' wishes, she stopped taking her contraceptive potion on purpose, which resulted in pregnancy. Close to the twins' due date, Anne had a random bout of illness, but they considered it fairly normal and unconcerning, based on her symptoms, and she stubbornly refused to see a Healer. The next morning, Ominis woke up to find her dead beside him. In this chapter, Ominis continues the story and later, Sebastian returns home.

Pairing: 25-year-old, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x 24-year-old Kate Mayflower (my OC), the assistant librarian at Hogwarts

Art Credit: the very talented @giselsann-opencommissions 💛

Content warnings: In general, this is rated 18+, so minors should not read or interact with this story, but this chapter really has nothing I would consider triggering.

The full chapter is available below the cut; it can also be found on AO3 (link is posted below). Please leave some feedback if possible, especially if you like what you read! 🥰

Chapter 65: Irises and Yellow Roses

“Ominis…” Sebastian murmurs, noticing his watery eyes.

“The coroner said that Anne had… experienced a stroke. That she had likely been suffering from something called toxemia,” the blonde man continues somberly. “It supposedly happens to many pregnant women, especially to those pregnant with multiples, and is difficult to detect. We just… thought the symptoms were normal. We were so used to her having bouts of illness like that.” He pauses, wiping at his eyes. “We didn’t realize the severity.”

Sebastian works his jaw. He cannot fathom how something so… mundane could have finished her off, after all she had suffered through. Anne’s refusal to see a Healer was infuriating - and so like her, but he understands that they could never have imagined her suddenly dying overnight with those symptoms. Then, he considers Ominis’ experience.

Waking up to find the love of his life dead without warning.

Expecting to raise a family, only to end up completely alone.

All hopes and dreams dashed.

Sebastian doesn’t even know what to say. He sits quietly, lost in his own pain, as he watches his old friend, his brother-in-law, cry. 

“I should have insisted she go to St. Mungo’s,” Ominis mumbles dejectedly. “I want to- to take it all back. Reverse it all. It… it hurts so badly. I’ve lost… everything.”

 Carefully choosing his words, Sebastian finally replies, “I understand. My situation… was never the same as yours… but I understand the feeling.” He reaches out to place a handkerchief in Ominis’ hand. “It’s indescribably… horrific. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. For many years, I wasn’t even sure why I was alive… or that life was even worth living.” 

Ominis uses the cloth to dry his cheeks. 

“I know this may sound impossible to you right now,” Sebastian continues, “but… things can change. Your life isn’t over. Try to find a reason to go on. The future is… open. It doesn’t have to be miserable forever. Honor Anne…” He trails off, fearful he might only upset Ominis further. How would one even possibly provide comfort in this situation? Sebastian stares at the floor. “Ominis… I want you to know that you aren’t alone. We’re friends, and now, we’re family… I promise - I will help you in any way I can. It’s what Anne would have wanted.”

When Sebastian returns to the cottage that night, he’s exhausted.

Kate kindly left a few candles burning for him, and he stumbles towards the bedroom to find her sitting up and reading in bed by candlelight. Her eyes take him in as he wanders in wordlessly. He undresses slowly, and she waits patiently for him to join her. 

Sebastian lets out a sigh as he settles, his head in Kate’s lap. She runs her fingers through his hair, silent for a long while.

Kissing the top of his head sweetly, her lips lingering, she whispers, “Would you like to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, no. 

“That’s fine,” she soothingly murmurs. “Let’s go to sleep, love.”

They readjust, and for once, Kate spoons Sebastian. She can tell that he is attempting to hold back tears, but his emotions quickly consume him, and she can feel his stomach contracting as he sobs. 

It breaks her heart, and she wishes she could take away whatever pain he’s experiencing. All she can do is hold him tight. This distress keeps her awake until she can hear him breathing deeply, finally asleep.

“I love you,” she whispers, even though he won’t hear.

Kate wakes early the next morning to the sound of Sebastian’s light snoring. 

Wishing for him to get much more rest, Kate carefully slips away towards her side of the bed, placing a pillow where her body had been curled against him. She slowly lifts herself up, trying to keep the bed from creaking too loudly. She slips on her deep green, silken robe and gingerly pads across the room to escape into the hallway.

She decides to start breakfast, trying to determine what type of food might be best after last night’s excitement. Kate wonders if Sebastian may have a hangover; she determines that it would be best for him to have a hearty breakfast to soak up the alcohol and replenish his hunger. 

When she is just about finished with cooking, she hears footsteps in the hallway. The sound disappears as he closes the bathroom door. Quickly, she plates everything and sets the table. 

Sebastian finally wanders into the kitchen a few minutes later, yawning, donning only pyjama trousers. His eyes grow large when he sees that breakfast is completely ready.

“Good morning, darling,” Kate cheerily says in a sing-song voice.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he echoes in a somewhat groggy tone.

“Sit,” she offers, motioning towards the chair he usually takes. “I’ve made breakfast.”

Sebastian gladly plops down, surveying the offerings.

“I’ve made oatmeal with cinnamon, pecans, apples, and dried cranberries,” she explains. “Breakfast tea is ready. I’ve fried up some tomatoes and sausages. There’s also a bowl of fresh strawberries and blueberries - I’ve just washed them.” She smiles. “But if there is anything else you desire, just say the word. I mean to please you.”

“Gods, no. I already feel spoiled,” he answers gratefully. He lifts her hand, kissing it. “You’re… you’re bloody perfect, Kate. This is incredibly considerate. I love you so much.”

She giggles in response. “And I love you.”

As they tuck into the food, Kate is surprised to hear that Sebastian is not hungover. 

He tells Kate everything about his private visit with Ominis. She listens avidly, asking several questions to which Sebastian does not yet know all of the answers. 

When he reaches the part in which he and Ominis said goodbye, he hesitantly says, “I need to tell you something. I hope you aren’t angry with me that I’ve not given you much notice, but…” He looks into her blue eyes. “I invited Ominis over for dinner tonight.”

Kate slowly nods, and Sebastian immediately assumes that she is upset. He quickly adds, “You don’t have to cook. I can order a meal, cook something up myself, or just change the plans and go out to dinner in Hogsmeade. And I’ll do everything to prepare the cottage for the evening. Sorry… It’s just… When we went our separate ways, I didn’t feel like we had fully caught up.”

“It’s alright,” Kate replies. “I don’t mind hosting. I don’t mind cooking, either. But yes, you will need to help quite a lot. Perhaps you can help out a bit in the kitchen… and I’ll certainly need you to do some work around the house.” She pauses. “Next time, I would appreciate more notice, though.”

“Of course.” He kisses her cheek. “Thank you.” 

Kate’s mind begins to run through the ingredients she has on hand and what might be impressive enough to make for a dinner guest. Knowing that Ominis is blind actually makes her a bit more nervous. She’s read before that when someone loses their eyesight, all other senses are heightened. This means her cooking will need to be especially flavorful. She will need to pull out all the stops. 

Ultimately, Ominis will be her brother-in-law, and she aspires more than anything to win his friendship.

Nothing is more important to Kate than family, and Ominis is the only other remaining member of the Sallows. This dinner could hopefully solidify a renewed relationship between Sebastian and Ominis and encourage them to get together more frequently. 

Sebastian needs that.

“Well, we’ll need to get to work right away,” Kate says decisively, standing up. “Come on, let’s get dressed.”

Sebastian pouts as he nuzzles his face between Kate’s soft breasts, barely covered by her thin robe. “Do we have to? Do you have to?”

“Sebastian.” She gives him a chastising look. “You’re the one that sprung this on me…”

“Oh, fine,” he mutters with a smirk, allowing himself to be helped up from the table.

The houseplants have all been watered, and windows are open to let in the fresh summer air. Sebastian has tidied up the living room and bathroom, and Kate has busied herself with baking a pie, using preserved apple pie filling. She places it near the window to cool.

“Sebastian!” she calls outside, “Will you be finished soon? I really need those vegetables.”

“Coming,” he shouts back.

Moments later, the front door swings open, and Sebastian enters, carrying a basket filled with freshly harvested vegetables. 

“I could be wrong, but I didn’t think the peas looked ready yet,” he informs her. “But I have everything else you requested - the potatoes, carrots, and asparagus.” 

“Alright.” She takes the basket from him, inspecting the garden’s yield. 

Then, Sebastian reveals a bouquet of flowers he had been hiding behind his back. Kate gasps as she accepts the yellow roses and purple irises, inhaling their scent. 

“Lovely,” Kate hums. “Just lovely.”

“I almost cut some of the peonies,” Sebastian mentions, “but these were also ready… and their symbolism… it’s meaningful for tonight.”

Kate nods. “Hmm… the irises… they’re…” Her nose scrunches. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten. Let me take a look in my book.”

He stops her. “They symbolize hope, faith, and trust in friendship. And the yellow roses - they’re optimism and joy in friendship.” 

Kate gives him a lopsided smile. “My clever Seb.” 

She turns around, strolling into the kitchen to find a vase. He follows her like a puppy.

“The pie smells fantastic,” Sebastian murmurs as she fills a vase with water. “I wish I could steal a piece right now.”

Kate smiles, carefully arranging the flowers in the vase. “You’ll just have to wait, dear.”

He pulls her hips forward, places his hands on her arms, and leans in with a mischievous grin. “You know patience is not my strong suit.” He kisses her cheek and eyes her up and down. She’s wearing a darker yellow dress, a rather simple one, under a cream-colored, frilly smock. Her hair is half-up, half-down; delicate white flowers are woven into a braid secured around the back of her head. “You look very pretty.”

She goes pink, secretly delighted by the compliment. “I know Ominis can’t see, but I still want to at least look… decent.”

They kiss, and the scent of her floral perfume envelops him in its sweetness. 

“You smell like a dream,” Sebastian whispers in her ear. “Flowers and honey… vanilla and cinnamon… so sweet.” 

He picks her up, placing her on the counter and going in for more kisses. She gives in, and their lips move together languidly. After a minute, the kisses begin to feel more insistent, and Kate finally pulls back, giggling. She pushes him away playfully, sliding off to stand on her own two feet. 

“Alright, Romeo. We have work to do,” she teases him, a smile tugging at her lips.

Kate puts Sebastian to work, asking him to wash the freshly harvested vegetables as she greases and flours a bread pan. She takes a cloth off the top of a bowl, revealing fragrant dough that had been left to rise, which she puts in the pan and then the oven. 

Eventually, the two stand side by side to cut the carrots and potatoes. Laughter fills the kitchen as they take turns feeding each other small scraps. 

Sebastian stares at Kate for a long time, his eyes filled with deep affection. “Kate…” 

“What is it?”

“I… I’m so lucky,” he finishes. “Sometimes I really cannot believe I’m here with you…”

Kate smiles back at him. “You are. You’re home, my love.” 

[jupitersnewmoon]

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider...Han?

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider...Han? - Minsung Spiderman/College AU

ଳ Jisung likes to think he's very good at keeping his identity a secret but Minho can recognize that waist anywhere.

ଳ chapter 2 - The Amazing Spider-Man and His Even Better Waist

ଳ cw - depictions of v!olence, swearing, gays being gays, Jisung is kind of a stalker, light angst because I'm a wuss, hurt/comfort, no smut... unless, a little corny, minsung, chanlix, hyunbin

ଳ previous chapter - next chapter

The sun had started to set as Minho made his way back home from the dance studio. With the upcoming showcase Minho had a tendency to work himself to the bone. As one of the team's captains he felt he needed to constantly be at his best so he can help those around him. Despite the countless hours of staring himself down in the giant mirror going over every move over and over and over again until he physically couldn’t take it anymore, he adored what he did. Dancing wasn’t just a hobby to him, it was his everything. You could see it in the way he walked, the way he gestured, even the way he breathed. Everything he did had a certain flow to it, some (Jisung) would say a certain elegance. Dancing was bound to become a part of his very being for the start. He’s been doing it since he was a child and hasn’t stopped since. 

One day he hopes to open his own studio, probably in some small town somewhere safe and quiet where he could teach dance lessons. He would have classes for adults and kids and really anyone who wanted to learn. God did he love teaching. There's a certain satisfaction he gets from helping someone do something as simple as nailing a move or as grand as teaching them difficult choreography from start to finish. Taking people under his wing and morphing them into the best dancers they can possibly be gives him a high like no other. Who needs drugs when you can take a shy uncertain dancer and make them extraordinary? 

That’s one of the reasons he’s come to love Jeongin so much so fast. Jeongin is a sophomore and just recently joined his team. From the second Minho saw him at tryouts he knew Jeongin was going to turn into something phenomenal. They’ve only been working together for a few weeks and Felix is already gushing over the fact that Jeongin is starting to dance like Minho. Him and Hyunjin have started calling Jeongin Minho’s kid and while Minho pretends to be annoyed with it, everyone can see the proud smile he tries oh so hard to hide. 

Jeongin reminds Minho a lot of himself. Especially with how the kid is when it comes to practicing. Minho had to basically beg the kid to go home after practice was over. Jeongin had whined and complained but Minho told him he needed to get rest and not overwork himself. Hyunjin had pointed out how Minho was going to stay later and do the exact same thing he was telling Jeongin not to do but Minho just rolled his eyes and told them to shoo. In order to console a very disappointed Jeongin, Hyunjin and Felix took him out for dinner while Minho stayed behind. They promised Minho they’d bring him something back if he was home before the sun had set. Minho had a bad habit of staying until the late hours of the night and despite their efforts, Hyunjin and Felix couldn’t drag him out of that studio no matter how hard they tried. And boy did they try. Despite Hyunjins slight height advantage and Felix’s puppy dog eyes, no one was a match for Minho. Mostly because the little shit was not afraid to bite. So they turned to bribery, and that worked thousands of times better. 

Minho put on his headphones and started his journey home. He lived in an apartment in the city with Felix and Hyunjin. During Minho’s freshman and sophomore year he had downright dastardly roommates. During his freshman year he roomed with two other guys who in spite of being turned down by every fraternity their school offered, they still acted like stereotypical douchebag frat guys. In all their months of sharing a space Minho doesn’t think he saw them sober once. And while he can understand the urge to inhale anything that looks like he won’t remember the next few days, there had to be a line somewhere. Unfortunately for him the only line they knew of was white and powdery, and probably laced with fentanyl. 

He spent many nights with his noise canceling headphones on full blast trying to drown out whatever party they were throwing on some random weeknight. His sophomore year roommate was less annoying and more… creepy. Minho knows he’s not exactly the gold standard for your typical sane person but damn was the dude strange. Minho truly has no place to judge people for being a little odd but the dude had figurines in a jar. Minho had walked into his room to ask the guy something and when he saw the jars he innocently asked about them. The guy had referred to them as “snow globes” but it was safe to say that it was definitely not water in those mason jars. Minho still can’t see Rainbow Dash without shuddering a little. 

During his junior year Minho lived alone in a small studio apartment. While it was nice to get 8 hours of sleep and not be suspicious of every cup in the kitchen, he had started to feel a little lonely. Minho greatly valued his alone time and most of the time preferred to be unbothered, but it was really easy to isolate himself. And since there was no one around to judge him, he could spend his days binging anime and rotting in his living room that only contained a centuries old pullout couch and a t.v that stood on an empty ikea box. He had begged his parents to let him bring his cats, Soonie, Doongie, and Dori, to live with him so he would have some motivation to do more than just rot. His parents finally caved and while they helped greatly Minho figured it would be better if he roomed with someone for his final year at college. Mostly so they could hold him accountable and actually make him go to class. Senioritis was a bitch in high school and it’s even worse in college. 

He had met Hyunjin and Felix when the 2 were freshmen and they clicked very quickly. While they weren’t there to help him stand up to the frat boys, they were there to help him cope with the freaky brony. And towards the end of Minho’s junior year they ended up basically living at Minho’s place, once he got the cats of course. So it came as no surprise when they ended up all living together for Minho’s senior year and he wouldn't have it any other way. Even with Hyunjin being allergic to cats they’ve found ways to make it work and Minho can proudly say he has not seen any jars with any questionable substances nor any mysterious white lines, outside of Felix baking of course. So he would consider it a big win. 

As Minho got further and further into the city something felt extremely off. While it was suspicious that the city looked like it had been torn apart and there were a bunch of abandoned and even flipped over cars, that wasn’t the biggest oddity. Minho felt incredibly alone. Usually on his walk back home there seemed to be a sort of… presence that would follow him. At first it had him looking over his shoulder constantly thinking he was about to get jumped but as the months have passed it’s become quite comforting. He hasn’t told anyone about it though, he’s scared they’d send him to the ward, which would be understandable. Whether he has a guardian angel or a stalker he’s not exactly sure, but right now he misses the feeling of someone keeping an eye on him. Especially as the closer he gets home, the more the city looks like it was torn to shreds.

Just about everyone else on this Earth would turn around and head to safety, but damn does Minho just want to lay down and wait for his friends to get back with food. He’s been in classes all day and just spent hours practicing the same damn 8 count, if he dies then shit, he dies. His obituary will have ‘missed his couch and his cats’ as the cause of death and he’s okay with that. 

Now the smart thing for Minho to do would be to take off his headphones or at least pause his music so he can listen for any danger. But he’s currently bumping Ariana Grande’s ‘One Last Time’ and if he’s going out, he’s going out listening to a banger. 

Minho does however start to quicken his pace the more he ponders about all the ways he could possibly, for the lack of a better term, get gotten. He can’t even begin to think of what could have possibly caused this much destruction and he really doesn’t want to meet it. Minho did years of taekwondo but he’s not exactly sure if he could crescent kick his way to safety. Mainly because he’s seen about 2 cars flipped upside down and one through the window of a shop. He believes if whatever did this can flip a 2 thousand pound car, they could probably flip him like a pancake. 

Minho’s brisk walk turns into a little jog as his apartment comes into view. The feeling of impending doom starts to really set as he gets to the entrance. He skips a few steps up the stairs and heads for the door. Before Minho can start punching in code he starts to feel the ground beneath him shake. Minho looks down at his feet and tilts his head confusingly, as if his shoes are going to give him all the answers. The shaking becomes more aggressive and the keys on his lanyard start to rattle slightly.

Minho lets out a short laugh and mutters, “Um he’s right behind me isn’t he?” 

He laughs quietly to himself again, trying to calm himself down as his current anxiety levels could be compared to someone being hunted for sport. He thinks briefly about how Hyunjin would’ve laughed at the corny line and finds himself missing his boys. He hopes they return soon, and he hopes they bring back the pudding he likes. 

The thought of his friends helps to calm him down some so he turns around to check if the coast is clear. When he turns he meets the fiery gaze of what seems to be a deranged man with tentacles running at him full speed.

 Minho is quite known for his fast reflexes but all systems in his brain seem to shut down as the cyborg octopus grabs a neon blue kia soul and seemingly prepares to launch it at him. Minho’s fight or flight kicks in and seeing as he is currently planted in his spot, he guesses his brain chose to fight. Minho wracks his brain for any taekwondo moves he could use against the man that looks like he came straight out of a really bad hentai, but nothing seems to stick out. 

Before Minho can start planning his funeral he catches the glimpse of something flying towards him on his right side. He whips his head to the side and sees Spider-Man coming to the rescue. In the blink of an eye Minho is brought into Spider-Man’s arms. His legs instinctively wrap around the hero's waist as his arms snake around his neck. Due to the impact of the strange hug thing they have going on, his wireless headphones get knocked off his head. He curses to himself as he watches them fall 500 feet in the air and only then does it register to Minho how high up he currently is and how they’re only getting higher. His grip tightens around the hero as his thoughts start running a million miles a second. 

‘Oh my god we’re so high up, holy shit we’re so high up! Oh no I think I’m getting motion sick. Oh dear god I can’t throw up on Spider-Man. If this fucking spider drops us I’m gonna be so pissed. Oh please don’t drop us! I think if I hold onto him any tighter he’s gonna start suffocating. Can’t risk him passing out so I won’t hold his neck tighter I guess. Maybe I could wrap my legs tighter…damn Spider-Man’s waist is small. Who the fuck said that? My final thoughts can not be about some dude's waist, no matter how whorish it is. Oh my god if I die, who will take care of my babies!? Those webs better be strong as fuck I have children to raise!’

As if the hero can hear his thoughts, he tries to comfort Minho as best as he can. Due to Spider-Man needing both of his hands to web-sling him and Minho to safety, he slightly nuzzles his head against Minho’s in an attempt to comfort him.

“I know it’s high up but don’t worry we’re almost there.” Spider-Man whispers reassuringly. 

Maybe it was the proximity or reassuring words or the deep tone Spider-Man used, but Minho was very grateful that the hero couldn’t see his face at that moment. The reddening of his ears might give the hero a slight implication of how he feels, but how red his face is currently would be a dead giveaway. Minho has half a mind to wonder how Spider-Man knew of his immense fear of heights but the thought quickly dissipated along with the others that had been plaguing his mind. While the fear was still there, he couldn’t help but feel safe in the hero’s arms. Maybe more than he should. He did just meet the guy only a few minutes ago yet he somehow trusted him immensely. All he knew about Spider-Man was that he was 1 a hero, 2 he sounds to be around his age, and 3 he has a slutty waist. 

Minho faintly shakes his head trying to shake the hero’s waist from his brain and opts to lay his head in the crook of the hero’s neck. If he was questioned about it he would just tell them it was so he didn’t have to see how high up they were… no other reason. 

The closer the pair got to the sirens the more the off brand hentai mechanical octopus seemed to fall back. Minho wants to ask why the robo cephalopod is currently chasing them down and where he even came from but he decides it’s best not to distract the hero while he is mid-saving his ass. 

Due to Minho’s position he has a perfect view of the villain and watches as he gets slower and slower. While he’s happy he won’t have to be in the middle of a showdown between the entire police department, Spider-Man, and some shitty Koro-sensei cosplayer, he is worried about him getting away. The guy obviously had it out for Minho if the Kia Soul he almost got gotten with had anything to say about it. He just really did not want to run into, or well away from this guy again. However if he gets to be wrapped up around the hero maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad. 

With the police department finally coming into view, the villain had decided to call it a night and turned around. Minho and Spider-Man continued their way towards the group of law enforcement and medical personnel. A few of the cop cars took off toward the deranged man and followed him back into the heart of the city. Minho was sure the villain would eventually lose them and hide away until his next attack. Before he could even start to stress about the man’s return he felt himself start to slowly descend towards the ground. 

Spider-Man had planted himself back on the ground with Minho still wrapped around him. The hero placed his hands underneath Minho’s thighs and Minho took it as a cue to slowly lower himself onto the ground. Spider-Man’s hands trace from his thighs to his waist and let’s them linger there. With Minho’s hands still wrapped around the hero’s neck, he stares into his masked eyes for a few seconds in silence. 

“Are you okay?” The hero whispers, trying to not break the moment. 

“I am now,” Minho replies, smirking at the man.  

Despite the mask covering the hero’s face Minho swears he can see Spider-Man’s face light up in surprise.

“You know, you really should be more careful. You could have really gotten hurt,” Spider-Man tried to lecture after regaining his composure, but his voice was too breathless to hold any real power.

“Well it’s a good thing you were there to save me, huh?” Minho questions, tilting his head slightly and slowly moving his hands from the hero’s neck down to his biceps.

Spider-Man shivers slightly at the sensation and grips Minho’s waist just a little tighter.

“Hmm, but what if I’m not there the next time you get yourself into trouble?” The hero breathed.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t come save me if I ever got into trouble again?” Minho asks with a fake pout.

The hero pauses for a second and says, “I’ll always save you.”.

Minho’s pout quickly turns into a charming smile but before he can continue this game with the hero they hear the rushed footsteps of people fastly approaching. Spider-Man and Minho reluctantly let go of each other as medical personnel speed toward them. The paramedics offer to check out Spider-Man for any damage but the hero politely denies any help. He does however insist Minho should get a check up just in case. Minho agrees and starts walking towards the medics vehicle while Spider-Man turns in the other direction. Minho watches Spider-Man’s waist, or no not waist just Spider-Man walk away and calls out to him.

“Thank you Spider-Man!”

Minho swears he can see a bright smile from underneath the mask as the hero nods his head and web-slings off into the distance. 

The medics take a look at Minho but don’t find anything concerning. They let him know he’ll probably just be shaken up for the next few days and may have some trouble sleeping but overall he was perfectly fine. For some reason Minho feels a sense of pride due to how good Spider-Man was at keeping him safe. He pushes the thought away and thanks them for their time. 

Once Minho leaves the vehicle he decides it is probably best to update his roommates on what has transpired. He pulls out his phone and dials Felix’s number. 

“Hey Min what’s up!?” Felix greets him. 

“Felix, you're never going to believe what just happened.”

“Wait hold on, this sounds good, let me put you on speaker so Jinnie and Innie can hear!” 

“Hi Minho!” Jeongin and Hyunjin greet him excitedly. 

“Hi boys! So the craziest thing just happened, basically I’m on my way home from the studio-“ Minho explains the bulk of the story adding little sound effects to really set the scene. 

“Oh my god Minho are you okay!?” Felix questions worry evident in his tone. 

“Yeah yeah I’m fine but let me get to the good part!” 

“Are you hurt at all? Did they take you to a hospital? Where are you right now” Felix rambles, growing more anxious by the second. 

“Lix I promise I’m okay the paramedics gave me a checkup and I’m all good! Now please I need to tell someone about that man’s waist or I’m gonna fucking implode!”

“Are you sure you’re totally fine? We can head back now and come take care of you! Oh my god we shouldn’t have let you stay at the studio-“ 

“FELIX SHH I WANNA HEAR ABOUT SPIDER-MAN’S WAIST!” Hyunjin being nosy as ever interrupts Felix’s mental breakdown. 

Felix promptly stops his rambling and Minho can picture Joengin comforting Felix while Hyunjin gets closer to the phone to not miss a single detail. 

“I kid you not I think if I wrapped my hands around his waist my fingertips could almost touch!”

“You lie!” Hyunjin gasps dramatically.

“As if!” Minho replies matching his energy. 

“What happened next!?” Jeongin asked, sounding like a kid hearing an exciting bedtime story.

“So giant tentacle man ends up retreating once we get to the like billion police officers and oh my god you guys are not ready for this!” 

“Spill it now!” Hyunjin exclaims impatiently.

“So we land right? Well he puts his hands under my thighs and once he sets me down he puts them on my waist! MY WAIST!”

Minho laughs as he hears the 3 boys squeal in delight.

“What then!?” Felix questions sounding much more calm then before.

“So my hands are still around his neck and we are very close together and he asks if I’m okay and I obviously tell him I’m much better now that he saved me and then he tries to be all tough and lecture me about being safe and how I could have gotten hurt so I say it’s a good thing he was there to save me and he says what if he won’t be there the next time I’m in trouble so I’m like oh so you won’t come save me next time and he pauses for a second and then tells me and I quote ‘I’ll always save you’,” Minho takes a deep breath after his rant and immediately starts laughing again at his friends' responses.

“Oh Minho you flirt!” Hyunjin teases after he finishes squealing happily.

“Damn Minho I didn’t know you were such a dog!” Jeongin adds.

“I’ve been telling you guys, Minho’s rizz is unmatched!” Felix giggled.

“Oh god please don’t ever say rizz again” Hyunjin complained playfully.

“Okay but can we talk about the fact that THE Spider-Man wants you so bad?” Jeongin exclaimed.

“I’m sure he was just doing his job-”

“His job is to save people! He does not get paid to flirt!” Hyunjin ever the hopeless romantic argued.

“I actually don’t think he gets paid at all,” Jeongin corrected. 

“Either way he was practically off the clock when the villain left! He totally could have just dropped you off and left immediately after! But instead he stayed and held you in his arms! You guys had a bonding moment! Minho, you are living in a romantic comedy!” Hyunjin sighed dreamily.

“I’m not sure I would count almost getting squished by a car romantic or comedic,” Minho retorted.

“It would’ve been a little funny,” Hyunjin mumbled. 

Before Minho could threaten Hyunjin, Felix chimed in, “I don’t know Min, I think Jinnie and Innie are right. He sounds at the very least intrestedddd.”

“Yeah yeah whatever you guys say. Well I’m gonna head back to the apartment now, I’ll see you guys soon?” Minho questioned.

“Yeah we’ll drop Innie off at his place then head back! See you soon lover boy!” Hyunjin teased.

“Bye Minho!” Jeongin exclaimed.

“Bye In-ah! And I’ll deal with you when you get home Hyun!” Minho warned.

Minho could hear Jeongin and Felix laugh as Hyunjin gasped in fright at Minho’s threat.

“We’ll be home soon Min, please stay safe,” Felix pleaded.

“Of course, bye guys,” Minho assured as he ended the call.

Due to the villain's departure the police have deemed it safe enough for people to head home now. Most of the streets were closed as a result of the debris from the attack, so a lot of people would be walking home tonight. Even if the streets were open, a lot of them lost a car today, so either way, no one’s driving for. while. 

A police officer escorted Minho back to his apartment as it wasn’t very far from where they were. The entire walk Minho’s thoughts were consumed by Spider-Man.

It cannot be normal to feel so strongly about someone he just met. Minho knows it’s the man’s job to make him feel safe but damn he’s never felt so at ease hundreds of feet in the air. His fear of heights has been a constant problem all throughout his life and yet he would gladly stand atop the Burj Khalifa if it meant he could be in Spider-Man’s arms. He also thinks about the conversation he had with his friends. Was Spider-Man really flirting with him? Or was he just trying to distract Minho from the fact that they were in a life threatening situation? 

Minho starts to wonder why he even cares. He doesn’t know the hero, why should it matter if Spider-Man was flirting with him or not. It’s not like he’s ever going to see the guy again. Minho feels a slight pang in his heart at that thought. Would this be the only time he ever got to talk to Spider-Man? 

Minho’s head feels fuzzy. Nothing seems to make sense. Despite the fact that he just met Spider-Man today, he feels like he’s known the guy for years. There’s just something so… familiar about him but he can’t seem to place it. Minho starts to wonder if the man in the suit is someone he knows from school. But Minho thinks he would be able to recognize a voice like that, unless of course he was altering it to help keep his identity a secret. 

Or maybe Minho just experienced the love at first sight trope and is refusing to admit it because it would make him seem insane. How could it even be love at first sight if he didn’t even actually see the guy? Or maybe this was some sort of trauma response. Yeah, yeah that makes more sense. Minho was almost killed by a low budget Ursla and now he’s getting attached to the one that saved him. Kind of like stockholm syndrome except the capture leaves physically but not mentally. Minho then starts to think about how he wishes Spider-Man didn’t physically leave but quickly ushers the thought away. 

Once they got just a few feet away from Minho’s apartment he thanked the officer that took him home and they bid each other goodbye. Before the officer left he let Minho know that they would have some cops patrolling this street and that they would keep a close eye on his apartment building just in case the villain ever came back. Minho thanked the man again and headed inside. 

Once Minho had made it to the elevator he let out a small sigh of relief. He was so happy to be home and even more excited to see his cats. 

Oh no, his cats. They’ve been home alone this entire time and are probably scared out of their minds.

Minho ditches the elevator and heads towards the stairs. He bounds up 6 flights of stairs and even though he feels like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs he pursues forward. He makes it to his floor and flings open the stairway door to sprint down the hallway. He would have to get his babies some sort of toy or treat as a reward for their bravery. 

He makes it to his door and shoves the keys inside the locks ungracefully. He fumbles with them for a moment and then practically breaks down the door trying to get in. His eyes scan the living room for his little ones and finds them lounging in their favorite positions on the couch. At Minho’s harsh and loud intrusion Soongie gets up from his spot and greets Minho at the door rubbing against his leg. Doongie stays peacefully sleeping while Dori looks at him like he’s stupid.

Minho lets out a big sigh of relief and leans down to pet Soongie. The cat purrs happily at the affection and Minho stares at him lovingly. Once Soongie decides he’s been pet enough he makes his way back towards the couch and Minho follows. It isn’t until Minho comes just a few inches from the couch that he realizes just how tired he really is. He flops face first onto the couch making sure to avoid any cats. Minho just lays there for an uncertain amount of time before he hears the sounds of his friends returning home. Minho had forgotten to lock the door so Felix is able to barge in and look around frantically, similarly to how Minho had come in.

“MY BABY ARE YOU OKAY?!” Felix shouts dramatically as he ushers over to Minho. 

Before Minho can respond Felix falls onto him and nuzzles his face into his back. Minho lets out a small grunt but he’s too tired to do anything about his 4th oversized cat that seems to think he’s a lapcat. 

Hyunjin giggles at the two as he puts their leftovers and Minho’s food on the counter and walks over to the couch. Minho knows exactly what’s coming next but doesn’t react fast enough before Hyunjin flops down on top of the two. This time Felix also lets out a grunt at the impact. Minho wiggles trying to get the tower they created to topple off him but neither are budging. Hyunjin smiles happily at the peak while Minho is pretty sure he can hear Felix purring. Minho’s wiggles intensify and he starts groaning about how he can’t breathe so Hyunjin grabs Doongie who was sleeping peacefully on the pillows and sets him on top of them.

“Sorry, can’t, Doongie is comfortable,” Hyunjin states happily.

Despite being awoken from his slumber the cat quickly gets comfortable and purrs peacefully. Minho has used his cats laying or sleeping on him as an excuse to not go out as it would be criminal to move such a sweet little thing. Minho sighs knowing he can’t go back on his word now, especially since he’ll probably want to use them as an excuse sometime in the future so he accepts defeat. 

After a few moments of silence Felix asks, “So, gotta thing for Spider-Man now?”

Minho’s head shoots up off the couch as he starts screaming like an alarm clock to get the boys off of him. Due to the piercing sound everyone groans and rolls off of Minho in an attempt to get him to stop. Once Minho can finally breathe again he puts his face back down on the couch and grabs a pillow to blindly throw it at Felix.

He assumes he misses when he hears a loud ‘Ow’ from Hyunjin.

“Sorry I was aiming for the little one,” Minho mumbles, face still pressed down into the couch.

Minho can hear Hyunjin let out a little huff while Felix starts laughing. 

Still giggling, Felix scoots closer to Minho and runs his hands through his hair.

“You okay?” Felix asks comfortingly. 

Minho just nods his head in response. Physically he’s doing fine, mentally he feels like he just fought for his life in the trenches. Felix hums understandingly at Minho’s lack of response and continues carding his fingers through his hair. It’s Minho’s turn to basically start purring and feels some of the tension that had been building up slowly start to fade.

‘Would fade away much faster if it were Spider-Man,’ a voice in his head taunts.

Minho pushes his face impossibly further into the couch trying to drown out his own thoughts between the cushions. 

Hyunjin gets up and grabs Minho’s food from the counter and brings it over to him. 

“Come on, you should eat,” Hyunjin tells Minho.

Minho groans at the thought of getting up from his very comfortable position on the couch. Hyunjin sighs and places the food on the coffee table behind him before grabbing Minho under the arms and hoisting him up like a long cat.

Felix laughs at the bewildered look on Minho’s face as Hyunjin practically manhandles him into a sitting position. 

Once Hyunjin gets Minho settled there's a beat or two of silence.

“You need to stop hanging out with Changbin,” Minho grumbles.

The other two boys laugh while they hand Minho his food. Minho immediately digs in as the events of today had left him starving. 

“Alright well I’m gonna go get ready for bed but I’ll be back out in a little bit. You two gonna be okay?” Hyunjin questions while he stands up. 

“Yes I think I can keep things under control while you’re gone for 10 minutes,” Felix grumbles at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin chuckles and says, “I’m more worried about you getting suffocated with a pillow for saying something stupid”.

Felix feigns a look of hurt while Hyunjin walks away. Minho huffs out a small laugh at the two and continues devouring his food. Felix rolls his eyes and leans back on the couch scooting closer to Minho. 

The two sit in comfortable silence as Minho eats and Felix rests his head on his shoulders. Despite the fact that Felix is sorta in the way he doesn’t ask him to move. He knows Felix’s love language is physical touch and this is his way of showing Minho how worried he was about him, so Minho lets it slide. 

Felix seems to be deep in thought and lets out a little sigh. 

“What’s up Lix?” Minho questions the younger.

“Nothin,” Felix responds unconvincingly. 

“Bullshit, come on tell me, what’s on your mind?” Minho insisted, moving his body toward Felix so he’d have to look at him.

“I don’t know it’s kinda stupid to say out loud, but I feel like Chan is hiding something from me,” Felix admits, playing with his fingers nervously.

“What do you mean?” Minho asked, surprised. 

“It’s just, him and Ji have been spending a lot more time together lately and they keep sneaking around and they text back and forth when they’re in the same room and I don’t know, he just seems so focused on Jisung lately. And sometimes when we’re hanging out late at night he leaves in a hurry saying that Ji needs him for something but what could he possibly need him for so late at night!?” Felix rants growing slightly frustrated. 

“Oh my god Lee Felix are you jealous!? Minho accuses excitedly. 

“WHAT!?” Felix shrieks. 

“Oh my god you’re jealous of Chan giving someone else attention!”

“I AM NOT!”

“You totally are! You know Lixie you won’t burst into flames if Chan isn’t giving you his undivided attention twenty four seven.” 

“Yes I will! I mean no obviously I won’t but it’s just that you know-”

“You know I always had my suspicion that you liked him but I didn’t know it was bad enough for you to start accusing him of sneaking around with another man just because he needed to help a friend out.”

“Minho I’m being serious!”

“So am I! You know if you want his attention back on you there is something you could do.”

“What? What is it!?” Felix questions, leaning in to not miss a single word.

“Okay it's a little out there but hear me out; you could tell him how you feel.”

Felix stares at Minho for a second before grabbing a pillow and smacking Minho upside the head. Minho yelps and sets down his food in order to get back at the younger. Felix tries to get up but before he can fully stand up Minho grabs his arm and pulls him back down on the couch. They play flight for a couple of minutes throwing around random accusations to rile each other up.

“Just admit you have a fat crush on Chan!”

“I’ll admit that when you admit you got a thing for Spider-Man!”

Hyunjin walks into the living room in his pj’s and watches the two go at it with an amused smile on his face. Minho is holding back from really roughhousing with Felix as he normally would with Hyunjin because Felix is more sensitive. While Minho is going easy on the boy, Felix is fighting for his life. Minho regularly works out and over the past few months has really started to bulk up. Felix is just now realizing how bulked up Minho has gotten. After a few more minutes Hyunjin decides that's enough and goes to break the two apart. 

“Alright you girls are both very pretty but let’s break it up.”

Hyunjin grabs Minho and picks him up bridle style much to Minho’s dismay. Minho lets out a surprised gasp and holds onto Hyunjin just in case he drops him. 

‘You wouldn’t have to worry about being dropped if Spider-Man was carrying you,’ the voice in Minho’s head returns.

At that Minho sighs in defeat and goes limp is Hyunjins hold, mental and physical exhaustion taking over once again. 

“Alright princess, let's get you to bed, you've had a long day,” Hyunjin giggles quietly at the older who currently looks like a displeased cat. 

The 3 boys head into Minho’s room where Hyunjin unceremoniously drops Minho onto his bed and wishes him a goodnight. Felix chuckles and approaches where Minho is splayed across the bed. He moves the hair out of Minho’s face and kisses his forehead.

“If you can’t sleep, my door is always open,” Felix assures him.

Minho nods and bids him a goodnight. He stares at the ceiling for a while after Felix leaves. His mind wanders off to a million different places and once his eyes threaten to start closing he decides he should probably get ready for bed.

 He gets up with a groan and heads toward the shower. He stands underneath the scalding hot water for a while and stares off into the shower wall. He gets out when his body starts to feel too heavy to keep up right and quickly finishes his nightly routine. 

He renters his bedroom with his 3 cats hot on his heels and they all make themselves comfortable in his bed. Minho gives them all a kiss goodnight and tucks himself into bed. Once he closes his eyes he immediately see’s the dark gaze of the villain. His eyes shoot back open and cuddles into himself a little tighter. He calms his rigid breathing and lets his eyes fall shut once again. His brain replays the scenes of the villain chasing him down. He shutters slightly and wills his brain to think of anything else. 

The images of the frightening chase slowly start to become thoughts of the hero that saved him. His touch, his voice, the way he kept Minho so close even when they were safe. Minho would never admit it outloud but he secretly hoped the hero was around somewhere keeping watch over him. The cops told him they’d keep surveillance over his apartment but nothing in this world would make Minho feel more at ease then knowing Spider-Man was around, ready to protect and save him at a moment's notice. Like his very own guardian angel. 

What Minho didn’t know was that his wishes of the hero being close had come true. If Minho’s secret was to be protected by Spider-man, then Jisung’s secret was him sitting on the roof of the apartment complex opposite of Minho’s to make sure he stayed out of harm's way all night.

A/N

thank you so much for reading the second chapter! let me know what y'all think! chapter 3 is already in the works so it should be out soon! thank you again and i'll see you soon!

⋅˚₊‧ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

[galaxymagitech]

For the fic ask game!

10, 42, 49 :)

Thank you for the ask!!! (:

Fic Writer Ask Game

10. How do you decide what to write?

A few ways. Sometimes, an idea just Plagues me, and I Absolutely Have to Write It. In that case, I just give into the urge. Other than random inspiration, I can struggle to write without some sort of "challenge" or constraint. So I often specifically try to do something I feel like I'm not doing enough (or haven't done before). For example, I decided to write Robins on a Rooftop because I hadn't really explored Dick and Tim's relationship in a non-Reverse Robins context, and I wrote Paint Your Wrist for the Masquerade because I hadn't written SuperBat before, I have very little experience with writing romance, and I struggle conceptually with soulmate AUs. And I also try to participate in a lot of challenges, like Whumptober, Whumpuary (although I've only ever done a few days of that one), Cass Cain Week, Batfamily Week, Dick Grayson Week, Jason Todd Week, etc. because they give me structure for ideas. And I'm always looking for more (especially fandom-specific ones or ones with lots of participants, for motivation)!

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

It always stands out to me when someone does analysis on my fic. I love it so much, I want to give them hugs over the internet. One example is this comment thread on Agree to Disagree.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

Mainly, I'm working on my Steph-centric TimSteph Mob AU. I'm struggling with it because I second-guessed how I wanted to handle Dean. And then, when I finally decided, my keyboard broke and something went wrong with my ringfinger so it aches whenever I move it wrong, so it's difficult for me to work on the fic. The AO3 Curse strikes again. Here are a few lines from the draft of what's probably going to be Chapter 3:

Steph jolts awake, nearly falling out of her bed, only to see Tim standing over her. But that’s wrong…she’s not at Wayne Manor. She didn’t want to impose, and she knew Arthur would be gone tonight, like he is most nights. “What—”

“We need to hurry,” Tim says, turning her bedside lamp on.

“Is someone after you?” Steph whispers.

“No, nothing like that.” Tim smiles. “You’ll like this.” In the lamplight, it almost looks like something out of a horror movie.

Sometimes, Steph forgets exactly who Tim is. “Okay,” she says. “I’m coming.”

I'm also working on a Battle for the Cowl AU where Bruce is awful, and Tim agrees to be Jason's Robin under the impression that he can keep Jason!Batman under control the same way he kept Bruce!Batman under control: providing an alternative target for his anger. Jason is not a fan of this plan. Things go pretty poorly. The first half of the fic was originally supposed to be part of Through the Twisted Mirror (which is in development hell) but was scrapped because I wanted the story to diverge farther from canon and wrap up earlier in the timeline, and so I intend to post this story on its own. I'm hoping to finish it during finals week (which is actually more free than normal), although I'm kind of struggling because it heavily involves Lazarus Pit Side Effects, which I've generally moved away from writing since I wrote the first half of the fic. Anyway, here's a piece of dialogue from that:

“Batman—”

Something in Jason explodes. It’s not the Pit, this time. It’s him. “I’m not Batman!” He shouts. “Don’t call me Batman!”

Tim’s eyes widen like he’s about to bolt. Jason expects him to. But instead, Tim stands stock-still, hands at his side. Only the slightest tilt away reveals his instinct to escape. He looks like he’s expecting to be hit. “Okay, Red Hood.”

“Stop it, Tim, just stop it, okay? I don’t want to be Batman, I don’t want to be Red Hood, I don’t—I don’t want any of this!” Jason feels a pull on his scalp and realizes that he’s tearing at his hair. Slowly, he lowers his hands.

Tim just stares at him, a statue. His bandage is looking very red right now.

[o-wyrmlight]

I haven't worked on A Toast to the Pigs very much.

There's a couple of reasons for that: Writers' block from not knowing how to proceed; the exhaustion and burnout of keeping up with the weekly updates; impostor's syndrome for how I write Kim's perspective; the fact that I haven't really read through what I've published of Toast for a good, long while; the hyperfixation I've had for Disco Elysium kind of fading to a certain extent; the prevalent issues that I've noticed in my writing style that I really, really want to work on improving. And don't even try to tell me that there aren't any. I know there are some rather egregious issues.

All of those combined makes it difficult to make me want to touch Toast in the first place, and there's a certain degree of shame that comes with that knowledge. And when I do want to work on Toast, I have such a hard time getting into the mindset of when I worked on it to such an extreme that it practically monopolized my time, just because it's been so long since I last touched it.

I recently tried re-reading it and I couldn't help how, despite how proud I was, something in my chest just kept periodically cringing, and I do know why: It could have been so much shorter. So much briefer. It's no wonder that it monopolized so much of my time in the weeks and months that I'd been publishing it; it's no wonder that I got so burnt out from it. 144,000 words over 15 chapters is not a normal, sustainable pace to keep, and there's so much excess fat and prose that could've been cut down to trim it up and make it neater. Not to say that I'm going to go back and cut down the already-published chapters, but currently, that's the big issue that I see with my writing: I need to learn to keep it brief, and I need to learn to identify what parts of the story would benefit from extrapolation and which parts won't.

I do want to finish Toast--very, very badly. I want to have a finished multi-chapter fic under my belt for once instead of leaving it not even half-finished. I'm just having such a difficult time nudging my brain in the direction to actually work on newer chapters. I've lost a lot of threads that I need to pick up and untangle, especially if I want to come out of it with something that's consistent and good. I know it's fanfiction--we do this for fun, we're all having fun here--but I want it to be good and cohesive, because that's just what I enjoy.

I love that people are still able to read it and love it even if they don't think that it'll ever be updated again. I love the comments that I've gotten so far and I love all of the fanart that I've gotten, too. I don't like this shame of leaving things abandoned, even if I can still appreciate the joy that old fandoms gave me for the time that I participated in them. I appreciate the story, I appreciate the fandom, and I appreciate you. I really want Toast to be a story that we can all be proud of.

So I'll keep working on Toast. I have Chapter 16 finished--more or less, in my old writing style, and I'm undecided if there are a couple of characterization changes that I want to make with it. So far, it's the only one that's 'done'. I'm undecided if I should keep it unpublished until I finish Day 2--as I said I wouldn't start updating until Day 2 was completely finished--or if I should dedicate my time to finishing the rest of Day 2 first. I'll probably drop a poll in a few days, see what y'all's opinion of the matter is.

Despite how exhausting it was to keep up with, having a schedule really did help me focus and push me to put my best foot forward to keep up with updates. Whenever I do start updating Toast again, I'll probably extend those deadlines to once every fortnight (every other week). I can't guarantee that regular updates will be anytime soon, but, well. It is what it is.

In the meantime, I'll be working on a Wattpad cover to crosspost A Toast to the Pigs, because that's something I've really been wanting to do for the past couple of months for some reason. I'll see you then.

[drdemonprince]

I recently finished reading your book Unlearning Shame, and I absolutely loved it. I found the conceptual framework of Internalized Shame and your techniques for it so very helpful, especially when most ideas of mental health (anxiety and depression, trauma, etc.) have seemed insufficient and useless to me.

However, there was one thing that kind of bugged me the whole way through reading it. Your primary focus was the shame people face as part of marginalization, but often, this too felt insufficient for me. Like, I do face a lot of this flavor of shame: I'm an autistic trans woman, feeling like I'm cringey or childish or creepy or obscene or whatever are things that bug me daily, and restrict a lot of my freedom.

However, a lot of the shame I deal with stems from some kind of awful things I've done in the past, and this is perhaps the loneliest and most difficult kind of shame I deal with. To be fair, I think a lot of this has been very closely linked to my marginalization: people would interpret genuine mistakes of mine as signs I was some awful, manipulative predator, and quickly oust me from their friend groups as a result. If I had been an allistic cis man I would have faced far gentler behavior, or at least far more people would have justified the shit I did.

Regardless, very little in the book dealt with shame tied to guilt and wrongdoing. I remember there was mostly just this one tantalizing line about how even previous members of neonazi groups can benefit from speaking shame, but other than that, I didn't see much.

So my question here is, do you know how to deal with the shame of doing something really bad, and facing the consequences?

Thank you for asking, I'm glad you liked the book!

There are answers for you throughout the book, I think. Arguably, many of the examples of shame I outline involve feeling regret or shame over one's actions. People who do not recycle "enough" and feel profound shame and anxiety about it are people who have done something "wrong," in their minds. So are people who have repeated internalized transphobic/racist/fatphobic/etc messages to other people who share the same identities as them. These people's actions are systemically caused, and they are suffering from those same systemic forces that provoked them to take actions they feel bad about.

You aren't any more morally culpable than any of them, and you aren't qualitatively different from them -- even if you are likely telling yourself that what you did is so much "worse" and so much less justified.

You can find much of the advice that I apply to people who feel ashamed about an experience (a rape survivor, say), apply equally to you as someone who might have done something you view as "wrong." You can also look to the material in chapters 7 and 8 about finding grace and perspective for others who have done wrong to us, and apply much of that yourself. A person must be held in community before they can be held accountable, for example. Understanding the circumstances that contributed to your behavior is important, which it sounds like you've already done some work on, as is contemplating the needs you were attempting to meet with your actions, and the social supports you currently still need in order to move forward.

If someone has taken actions that go against even their own morals and they feel profoundly ashamed about it, I'd say they are generally still in a state of far-reaching systemic shame that goes far deeper and requires far more healing and support than just addressing the morality of their own actions. There's usually a lot of shame about one's identities, deprivation one is facing, fears of abandonment and attachment insecurities, and other major issues going on. Because a person wouldn't just violate their own moral precepts for no good reason.

No one wants to feel that they are a horrible person according to their own personal standards of goodness. A person's actions always make sense within their own context, and so when someone does something "wrong," either they have done something that they do not actually believe to be wrong, but fear societal judgement for, or they have been pushed to the brink by extreme distress, deprivation, abuse, indoctrination, political repression, exclusion, or likely a combination of those things.

I hope this is making sense. If you feel ashamed of something you have done, you need the exact same healing, safe vulnerability, social support, and trust as someone who is ashamed about something over which they have no control. There is no difference, you are no more deserving of that shame, and shame still will not prevent you from changing your behavior for the better. You can believe wholly that your actions in the past were wrong, and uphold your current values in the present, without deserving to feel any more shame about it.

[axkirak]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : VII]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings:  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: You start a new life on the planet Olega with the man you love. If your life were a novel, this would be the happy ending. But fate never lets you rest. One day, you find yourself facing three unfamiliar Jedi, and one of them, a Jedi Knight named Yord, captures your attention in an inexplicable way.

Status: finished writing this fic! (It will end in Episode 14)

A/N : Since there are more chapters now, if you don’t want to miss any updates, you can ask me to add your username for notifications whenever a new chapter is posted. Just let me know in a reply, and I’ll make sure you’re included in the next update.

ps. I'll be in Singapore for the F1 from this Thursday until next Tuesday, so I'll pause updating my fic for one week. I hope you can wait patiently.

➡  Intro // EP : 1 // EP : 2 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 6 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 10 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13 // EP : 14 (Completed)

Special OS : Phantom Thread // My mother is my enemy

[Episodes 7] It is impossible to live in the past, difficult to live in the present, and a waste to live in the future.

It’s often said that the safest place is also the most dangerous one. 

Perhaps that’s why Qimir chose to remain hidden on Olega, despite it being home to the Jedi Temple, a major stronghold of the galaxy’s peacekeepers.

For most people, there was no reason to fear the Jedi, who were meant to protect them from harm. But that wasn’t the case for you. You remembered well what Qimir had told you: the Jedi were looking for you, too. Even though their exact motives remained unclear, the sense of paranoia never left your mind. Especially after the massacre on Tatooine, you and Qimir felt like fugitives—always just one step away from being caught if any evidence linking you to the crime surfaced and exposed your secret.

You hated being here. Given a choice, you would have fled to some remote planet at the edge of the galaxy. But Qimir had different ideas. “Most of those who know about your bounty are outlaws or trade federations. Neither group gets along with the Jedi, so they won’t be snooping around places where Jedi gather,” he reasoned. “And the Jedi? They’re too preoccupied with galactic affairs to pay much attention to the planet they’re on. Besides, you don’t have the Force, so finding you would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.”

Qimir wasn’t wrong. Life on Olega had turned out to be unexpectedly peaceful. Despite the city’s persistent chaos, it made hiding much easier. You and Qimir had managed to stay under the radar for over a year without major problems. Everything had settled so seamlessly that you almost forgot what it was like to be on the run from other planets.

With no need to keep moving, Qimir had shifted from his life as an illegal mercenary to opening a modest pharmacy. He also worked as a broker, selling medicines and various odds and ends to travelers passing through. Meanwhile, you had taken on the role of his assistant and personal apprentice. Qimir was dedicated to teaching you both the theory and practice of his knowledge, especially in combat. He also encouraged you to continue developing your powers rather than suppressing them as you had before. Like your mother, Qimir believed your abilities were too valuable to be wasted.

“Haven’t you ever thought,” Qimir once said, “that someone like you could rise to replace the Jedi one day? With your power, you could bring far more to the galaxy than they ever could.”

His words seemed absurd, like a far-fetched joke meant to tease you. You laughed every time, confident that such a thing would never happen.

Never getting involved with the Jedi, no matter what, had always been your rule for survival.

But sometimes, fate can be cruelly ironic, and this was a joke that wasn’t amusing at all.

That's what occurs at noon on a Friday—one of fate's cruel jokes when you unexpectedly find yourself face-to-face with a group of Jedi.

It all takes place at Qimir’s pharmacy on a day he isn’t around. Lately, he has been disappearing more frequently—sometimes for two or three hours, or even the better part of a day—claiming he has business to attend to involving herbal shipments from other planets. As a result, you’re left to run the store in his absence, handling the medicines and assisting customers as usual.

But everything changes the moment the shop’s bell rings and the door swings open. Brilliant sunlight floods the store, heralding the arrival of three strangers you’ve never seen before.

One of them is a teenage theelin-human hybrid girl, with paper-white skin adorned with spots and orange hair with small horns encircling her head like a crown. The other two are human men—one middle-aged, with long black hair tied in a half-ponytail, his face stern and serious; the other younger, with sharp features, sun-bronzed skin, and a tall, muscular frame, likely not much older than you.

They couldn’t be more different from each other, except for their identical attire. They’re dressed in light yellow tunics, covered by long brown robes, and each wears a large belt with the unmistakable emblem of the Jedi Order.

Jedi—The realization hits you like a bolt of lightning the moment your eyes land on their belts, and you instinctively draw in a sharp breath.

You quickly wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt, composing yourself with practiced ease. Lifting your head from behind the counter, you address them with a polite, businesslike smile. “How may I assist the three of you today?”

The older man, likely a Jedi Master, introduces himself with courtesy as Sol, while the young girl, his Padawan, is named Jecki. The other young man, a Jedi Knight, is introduced as Yord. “We’re here on a mission,” Sol informs you, his voice laced with concern. “We’re investigating a serious incident that occurred in this city.”

You have no idea what serious incident he’s referring to or how severe it must be to involve the Jedi. For a moment, your mind jumps to the possibility that it might be connected to you—until Jecki explains further, warning you to keep the information strictly confidential.

It turns out that the serious incident is a series of murders currently happening on Olega. Four bodies in four months—each victim a high-ranking Jedi responsible for overseeing the temple here.

"Since the incident is still recent, the killer might be someone who just moved here or snuck into the city illegally," Sol continues. "There are many of these types around the spaceports, which is why we need to increase security in those areas to ensure the safety of the citizens."

You can tell Sol's words hold only a half truth. The Jedi aren't particularly concerned about the lives of citizens since the killer's targets are not random people but specifically high-ranking Jedi.

The presence of the three Jedi at the pharmacy today is no coincidence. As a newcomer here, you're automatically placed among the suspects, though none of them have the nerve to say it outright to your face.

Understanding this, you begin to relax a little. After all, you have nothing to do with these murders, so there's no reason to worry. You just need to play along with the Jedi's charade until it's over.

Sol, the group's leader, takes charge of questioning you, with Jecki also taking part in the interrogation. Most of their questions are basic: had you noticed anything strange or seen any unusual people recently? They also delve into your personal history—your identity, background, and reasons for ending up on this planet.

You respond naturally, mixing truth with lies, careful not to arouse suspicion. You're confident in your ability to act convincingly—that is, until you sense the sharp gaze of the one Jedi in the group who hasn’t said a word.

You furrow your brow, the intense scrutiny from the Jedi named Yord making you increasingly uncomfortable. You try to ignore him, but there's something inexplicably magnetic about his presence—an instinctive urge that draws you to meet his gaze.

At first, you think he's trying to catch you in a lie, but when you see his expression, you're surprised.

He’s not scrutinizing you for deception—he’s staring at you in shock, as if you’re some kind of ghost.

As you peer deeply into his brown eyes with curiosity, time seems to stretch unnaturally long. You find yourself not looking at the present but plunging into the past. Every moment flashes before your eyes like pages of a book flipping by—one year, ten years, a hundred years, up to a thousand years.

Suddenly, your consciousness is yanked back to the present. You startle as your entire body trembles with the icy chill sweeping over you. Pain surges through you like a jolt of electricity, followed by the sticky sensation of blood trickling from your nose.

You know exactly what’s happening. The side effects of your vision are punishing you for seeing what was not meant to be seen.

Closing your eyes, you take slow, deep breaths, trying to steady yourself and acclimate to the pain. As your senses return, you hear Sol’s concerned voice. "Are you all right?"

"I’m fine," you quickly reply, shaking your head while wiping the blood from your nose with a handkerchief. You feign composure, even though the lingering pain continues to gnaw at you from within.

Sol looks at you with disbelief, but he doesn’t press further. His face betrays concern, and you can’t help but think how fitting he is as a Jedi. His every gesture screams 'purity' If goodness had a color, this man would be the brightest white—so blinding it hurts to look at.

The awkward silence breaks as Sol clears his throat, returning to the topic at hand. “We still don’t have any more leads on the perpetrator, other than the fact that they’re highly skilled with weapons—probably a former soldier or maybe...” He trails off, as if he almost let something slip, but catches himself just in time. "Anyway, if you find any suspicious leads, don’t hesitate to contact me or any other Jedi.”

You watch as Sol places a thin metal card on the counter before bidding you farewell with the classic phrase, "May the Force be with you." He and the other Jedi then leave the pharmacy quietly.

You reach for the card, running your fingers along its cold metallic edge. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s an electronic contact card, storing his information. The front clearly reads, ‘Sol, Human, Jedi Master.

For a brief moment, you consider throwing it far away, but something compels you to tuck it into your pocket instead.

The sun slowly sinks, signaling the approach of evening. Hours have passed, but you're still lost in thought, pondering the group of Jedi you encountered—especially Sol’s story of the horrifying Jedi murder case. Though it has nothing to do with you directly, you can't shake the unease creeping into your mind. It's an inexplicable feeling of foreboding, devoid of any logical reason, as if instinct itself is whispering from deep within, warning you to be cautious. Yet you have no idea what or whom you should be wary of.

And then, there's another matter weighing heavily on your mind—the Jedi Knight named Yord.

His name has settled deep into your thoughts, etched onto your lips. A strange sense of familiarity fills your chest, as though you’ve known him before, despite seeing his face and hearing his name for the first time today.

How odd you think, fragments of a past you can barely recall flicker in your mind, disjointed and unclear. You want to focus your power on a vision, to delve deeper into the memory, but your body is too frail. It would only bring more pain. All you can do now is predict the hazy path of the future, as far as your bruised mind will allow.

You close your eyes, adjusting your breathing to a slow, steady rhythm. You let your mind sink into the stream of consciousness of possible futures.

There’s a ninety percent chance.

Certainty rises inside you—the answer you seek will come when you meet him again... soon.

The Bene Gesserit meditation gradually envelops your mind, nurturing it with such calm and a cold, almost numb detachment. Your fingers gently brush against the knife hidden in your cloak, recognizing that it may become necessary if things spiral out of control.

You step toward the front door of the shop, hand reaching for the handle, but a sudden hesitation grips you, freezing you in place.

A moment of silence surrounds you. You feel like a fish swimming towards a hook, drawn into a dangerous situation you shouldn't be involved with. The closer you get, the harder it becomes to turn back.

But in the end, you open the door anyway.

You stand there, waiting for something to happen. It doesn’t take long before someone grabs your arm, pulling you swiftly into the narrow alley beside the shop, hidden from the bustling street.

Your back hits the wooden wall of a nearby house—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to knock the wind out of you. You look up, meeting Yord's eyes with a calm expression, showing no sign of surprise. You know he is waiting for you, just as you are waiting for him.

“Be careful. You’re in a place you shouldn’t be,” he warns in a firm voice. “Get out while you still can.”

That’s all he says before releasing your shoulder and quickly walking back to the street, disappearing into the crowd while you stay still, watching his broad back in the yellow Jedi uniform fade from view.

In that moment, it's as if a veil of uncertainty is lifted, revealing a truth you had suspected before.

You are certain now. That Jedi can see the future—just like you.[1]

Footnotes:

[1] In Star Wars canon, some Jedi can see the future, but only a few—usually masters with strong Force abilities like Yoda (though as he got older, his visions became less reliable). You can see that Jedi powers and the Bene Gesserit abilities are somewhat similar (because Dune inspired Star Wars). However, in this fic, the author wanted to create a special distinction between the Reader (who is a Bene Gesserit) and the Jedi, so regular Jedi can’t have visions like the Reader. Yord’s case is unique and will have significant importance to the plot later on.

[ramenrescue]

do you any headcanons/aus/thoughts on usao/ousa ? loved your analysis of ogata/asirpa

Oh boy, I might have too many thoughts about Usami and Ogata so this may have to come in parts, especially the AUs. I have started writing a modern day reincarnation fic for them because I am just very feral about these two at the moment, so if I ever finish that and feel compelled to put it out to the world I'll let you know. The thing about writing fic or manga is like -- I can write little snippets but to piece them together into one coherent story is very difficult.

Anyway, your ask came at such a prompt time because I managed to buy the Japanese volumes on Bookwalker for almost 50% off and I specifically reread the main parts with Usami, so they are quite fresh in my mind. I think I agree with other analyses I have read about Usami in that he is a direct foil to Ogata. And this can be seen in their superficial traits: Ogata has many square-shaped, angular, sharp motifs on his face, like his square-shaped eyes, square shaped iris, squared eyebrows, square jawline, square hairline, while Usami has rounded tips on his eyelashes, round moles on his cheeks, rounded lips (cupid's bow), concentric circles for his pupil/iris, and rounded brows. Usami excels at close-range combat, while Ogata excels at long-range combat. Usami grew up amongst a large family with many siblings, while Ogata grew up practically an only child.

But here's the weird part -- I actually don't think they are complete opposites -- I think they have some things in common. <- more on this later.

It is interesting how in Usami's backstory (Chapter 227), Tsurumi (in conversation with the dojo owner) refers to Usami as a "dog among sheep" and a "born soldier who is highly loyal, combative, and is able to kill without remorse or regret". Then, it cuts to Usami in present day saying he predicts the serial killer in Sapporo will return to the scene of the crime and masturbate while reminiscing of their crimes because he understands that sentiment on a personal level. Usami here appears to show understanding that he possesses an innate capacity for violence.

Ogata was always wondering about the whole nature vs nurture question -- like whether lacking remorse for the act of killing is something one is born with or a product of one's environment (ex. bad childhood, war). Usami is a shining example that humans can in fact kill without remorse, and everyone except Ogata knows Usami is an exception to the rule. Usami is well aware this is what makes him special and this is one of the reasons why Tsurumi values him so much as a subordinate.

The problem with Ogata is that because he appears to have very little personal connections outside of Usami during the war (which is... kind of cute in a pitiable way?), he misconstrues that people like Usami are the majority. Usami agrees with all of Ogata's skewed interpretations and analyses that "all (majority of) people do not feel remorse in the act of killing" and in doing that, he is straight up lying. Usami knows people like himself are in the minority -- and because his analysis of Ogata's character was so spot on -- I'll go as far to say Usami knows Ogata is "normal" -- because if Ogata were truly a "born soldier" like Usami, he would not be ruminating about the philosophy of guilt and killing and questioning himself and bouncing his ideas off of another person -- he would just simply, be. Usami receives further confirmation that Ogata is simply, "just a guy", when he overhears Ogata calling Yusaku's name in his sleep. Usami also calls Ogata a snot-nosed brat quite a number of times, and I think that is alluding to Usami knowing that Ogata is just a sheep wearing wolf's skin.

It's interesting that Ogata entrusted the inner workings of his mind to Usami. I thought about this and I came to the conclusion that maybe he saw his own mother in Usami -- which I know, it's kind of insane, but I'm going somewhere with this! In Chapter 304, when Ogata is reminiscing about his mother, it appears she has a prominent cupid's bow -- a physical characteristic possessed by Usami. His mother likely called Ogata by his first name, and Usami is shown to be THE only person in present day who calls Ogata by his first name. Ogata's mom was head over heels over a man in a position of power with a wife who never returned the same level of love, while Usami is head over heels over a "promiscuous" man in a position of power who will likely never return the same level of affection that he's outputting. Another interesting side note: Usami chides Ogata for being the illegitimate son of an escort* and back in the Edo period, women in the business would chop off their pinkie as a sign of loyalty to their patron. Although Ogata likely did not have a good vantage point (nor did he care) to observe Usami's final moments, I think it's still worth mentioning that Usami getting his pinkie chomped off by Tsurumi resembles an escort chopping off her finger as a sign of ultimate devotion to her customer, lol. Anyway, I think because Ogata drew parallels between Yusaku and Asirpa, it is not so far fetched that he saw his mother in Usami -- and ultimately his projection made him trust Usami more than one ever should. There is one more important evidence that Ogata saw his mother in Usami -- in that he killed both of them with similar intent. He killed his mom not out of hatred, but because he wanted to put her out of her misery -- and he thought that if his father came to her funeral, she would be happy. Before he shoots Usami, he says something like "if you're so worried about being Tsurumi's cheapest pawn, why don't you see what his face looks like at your funeral," and in a way, he is putting Usami out of his miserable state of feeling inadequate. Ogata killed his mother with conviction that the positive outcome would happen, while he kills Usami with more of a neutral outlook -- and interestingly, Ogata, by killing Usami, gave Usami the thing he wanted most in life -- a reaffirmation from Tsurumi that he was his one and only (which, whether Tsurumi was telling the truth or not is dubious from a reader's POV, but alas, we are happy for Usami).

So here we return to my earlier point -- that they are crafted to be very different from each other, but they do possess similarities. One obvious one is that they both yearn for affection from Tsurumi -- which highlights another difference in that, yes they both yearn for love, but the love they seek are different. Usami yearns for love from one person and one person only, while Ogata is more agnostic and yearns for love from pretty much anyone who is willing to give him attention. But here's the thing -- I think Ogata's yearning for affection is a product of his environment -- and I think Usami's yearning to be someone's one and only, is also a product of his environment! I think that because he grew up in a large family, the love from his parents was dispersed amongst all of their children***, fostering an environment ripe for someone like Tsurumi to sweep him off his feet and pour "love" into this near-empty vessel. Usami felt intoxicated by the notion of being someone's one and only, that his jealousy-filled-rage led him to murder. I'd argue that without the addition of Tsurumi, there would be no Usami. Tsurumi compared Usami not to a wolf or a bear -- but a domesticated dog -- which is not, by itself, likely to commit acts of violence**. A soldier becomes a soldier only when commanded -- STEERED in the right direction, much like a dog will become violent when raised to do so. Therefore, a version of Usami who never met a sweet-talker like Tsurumi in his formative years, would likely not grow up to be an ultra-loyal killing-machine. To sum, I believe Usami's capacity for violence is an innate quality that can only be harnessed by the right environment.

Thank you for the question! One thing I still haven't quite wrapped my mind around is how after Ogata shoots Usami, he says "thank you, Usami, your death has completed me as a sniper." Okay??? What does he mean by that! I don't know! So if you or anyone reading this has any thoughts I'd love to know!

--

*=note that 商売女can include prostitutes and geisha, and the lines between geisha and prostitution was a lot blurrier back then so I'm just calling them an "escort" although Ogata's mom is officially known to be a former geisha

**=note that this is a sweeping generalization and I am aware different dog breeds do display varying levels of unpredictable, aggressive behavior

***=I just want to point out that Usami's parents are portrayed as being in love with each other, so they may have had that many kids as a result of lack of contraception. There's a scene in Vagabond with a couple who are having sex despite their many children crying out of hunger, and it kind of reminds me of that...

[bunny7567]

I got you - chapter 23

Pairing: Rex x Jedi!ofc

Word count: 7.4k Tags/Warnings: grief; mourning; angst; Rex is the master of Freudian slips; contains some action/dialogue from Padawan Lost episode; Fox is such a little shit; god i need him; am i hinting at foxyio? am i hinting at vox? who knows; I truly believe Rex is a big romantic at heart; there might be too much happening in this chapter

A/n: the fact that i'm posting chapter 23 while 26 is still not finished is completely fine and not worrying me at all

Previous chapter | Next chapter

cyare - beloved cyar'ika - sweetheart, darling mesh'la - beautiful ner kar’ta - my heart; I'm using it more as 'my love' Gedet’ye - please Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you, (lit: "I know you forever.") ori'vod - older brother Jetti - Jedi; Jetiise - plural "Jedi"

~~~

“I really don’t like this”, Fives grumbled from the co-pilot seat as Tipoca City came into view.

“So you’ve said. Repeatedly”, Lexie said flatly, steering the Amaranth towards the landing platform.

“It feels like we’re replacing him”, he continued.

“Yeah, well, that’s exactly what we’re doing. And we have no fucking choice in the matter”, she spat.

The ship touched down on the platform and Lexie flipped some switches, turning the engine off. The rain was falling hard on the transparisteel, replacing the hum of the Amaranth with its constant pattering. The water pouring down on the viewport was distorting the outside world, giving it an eerie appearance, but she did make out the blast doors opening and an ARC trooper stepping outside in the downpour, waiting for her and Fives to come out of the shuttle.

It had only been a couple weeks since the Citadel and things were slowly beginning to feel easier. At first it was unbearable, with Lexie having to constantly remind herself that it wasn’t Echo she was seeing in the corridors, in the mess, on the battlefield around her. She had taken refuge in the Temple right after they honoured Echo at the 79s, and stayed there until they were redeployed a week later. It felt particularly difficult being in the cantina so soon, and after only one hour, she apologised to Fives and the rest of the men and left. Rex walked her to the Temple that night and was very understanding when she told him she wouldn’t be coming by the base for a few days, reassuring her that she did not need to feel guilty for needing some time.

She really did need the time and especially the space to process everything, to come to terms with Echo’s death, and so, she was eager to find a distraction. Luckily for her, Ahsoka had recently started using dual lightsabers, and when Anakin asked if she would help with her training, Lexie gladly accepted. She liked being outside on the training grounds and she did enjoy sparring with the young Padawan. Ahsoka was a very quick learner, picking up her suggestions and swiftly integrating them into her fighting style. Anakin has plenty of reason to be proud of her and Lexie made sure to let him know that.

Being around the clone troopers wasn’t easy, Lexie felt a pit in her stomach every time she saw an officer accompanying a Jedi through the Temple corridors, and so she did her best to stay clear of the war room or the communication center, instead spending the day either with Ahsoka on the training grounds or alone in her room. However, as challenging as it felt being around the clones, she did not want to be away from the Captain for too long.

They decided to meet in Monument Plaza one evening, spend some time together, just the two of them. They were both dressed in civvies, which was good for blending in with the crowd, but unfortunately not good for the much colder-than-anticipated weather. They had to be careful when in public, so Rex had a cap on, hiding his bleached hair, while Lexie had draped a shawl over her head. Yet, their attire was no match for the icy drizzle that started falling and she was shivering as the cold seemed to seep deep into her bones. Disappointment was filling her mind at the realisation that her plans for their date night were now ruined. Rex could easily pick up on it.

It wasn’t actually about the weather, nor about her plans. It was still about Echo. Lexie had done fairly well the past rotations – hidden in the Temple she had even managed to meditate, to acknowledge her emotions and let them go – but that had only been momentarily since at the first minor inconvenience tears were already gathering in the corners of her eyes. And with tears came frustration, and with frustration came anger. She was a Jedi, she shouldn’t be this affected by Echo’s death.

“Why don’t we go to that diner you keep telling me about?”, Rex suggested, appraising her with a worried look.

“Yeah… yeah that’s a good idea”, she breathed.

Lexie found his beautiful brown eyes gazing at her with the same kindness and adoration she had grown accustomed to these past few months and her lips curled into a small smile. It was quite short-lived however, as guilt began stirring in her chest. I’m not the only one hurting.

“I’m sorry, I-”, she started.

“What are you apologising for?”, Rex interrupted her, genuinely confused.

“How I’m acting… as if… as if I’m the only one affected by his death”, she explained quietly.

“Cyare”, Rex spoke softly, “you’re hurting, it’s alright”.

“We’re both hurting”, she countered.

“Yeah, we are”, he continued, gently taking her hand into his. “And we’ll get through it together. We both just need a distraction and to spend some time away from it all”.

“How are you so kriffin’ perfect?”, Lexie whispered reverently.

“I’m not perfect”, Rex declined, a small smirk, however, present on his face.

“I don’t know… you’re saying all the right things and you’re doing all the right things too. Plus, you’re really hot. Seems pretty perfect to me”, she insisted in a kittenish voice.

“If you say so, princess”, he shook his head with a chuckle. “Come on, let’s get out of the cold”.

He rearranged her shawl, tucking a couple of strands of blue hair under the dark green fabric. The two of them made their way to CoCo Town, taking the fastest route; Rex was grateful that she knew how to navigate Coruscant’s maze of public transport, since that was not something he was familiar with himself, only frequenting a couple of places on the planet.

Lexie was lost in her head as she led the way, quite eager to get somewhere warm, and to also finally bring Rex to the diner. All her past attempts to do so had been derailed by some mission or another. Thinking about it actually, the last time she had been there herself was between two covert mission, with Fives and… Echo. The realisation made her heart sink and she froze in front of the doorway as her mind was flooded with memories.

A cold gust of wind made her shiver, snapping her out of it and Lexie became aware of Rex watching her warily. She stepped inside the diner avoiding his eyes, instead looking around for an empty booth. The one she and her ARCs usually sat at was now occupied by two Balosar women – which was good really, she didn’t believe she could bear to sit there anyway. Just as she jerked her head to the left, indicating to the bar stools in front of the window counter, she heard her name being called.

“It’s good to see you”, Dex greeted with a big smile. “And who’s this one?”, he asked, looking over at the Captain.

“This is Rex, my… friend”, Lexie introduced him. The Captain respectfully nodded.

“Well, grab a seat where you can find one. This lousy weather is really good for business”, the Besalisk laughed. “Are the other two coming as well?”.

“Uhm… no”. Lexie paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Echo died. The… the one with the, uhm, handprint…”, she gestured vaguely to her chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. He seemed like a nice young man”, Dex offered his condolences.

“He was, yeah”, Lexie said, a sad smile curling her lips. She then cleared her throat and put on a neutral expression. “We’ll definitely start with some hot caf”, she changed the subject.

Dex nodded a couple times, pity visible in his eyes. “I’ll send FLO your way”, he replied, walking back to the kitchen.

Lexie sat down on a bar stool, looking through the transparisteel at the traffic outside the diner. She unwrapped her shawl from her shoulders, placing it on the counter. Rex took the seat next to her, following her lead and taking off his cap and unzipping his jacket. He then slightly turned in order to face her, his knees bumping hers.

“Are you alright, cyar’ika?”.

“Not particularly”. She ran a hand over her hair, smoothing down any strands ruffled by the shawl.

“I didn’t realise you came here so often with them”, Rex pondered.

“Getting food here after missions was actually turning into a bit of a tradition”, she chuckled. “Last time it was basically just me and Echo. Fives started chatting up a girl who was eating by herself and was walking out that door with her within, like, twenty minutes of us being here. Quite impressive, I’ll give him that”.

Rex huffed a small laugh just as FLO set two cups of caf and two menus in front of them. It took a little bit of arguing in order to convince the Captain to get whatever he wanted but Lexie did succeed with the help of some emotional blackmail along the lines of: “you’ll cheer me up if you let me pay for you”.

“How’s Fives doing?”, Lexie inquired after they placed their orders.

“Well, so far I’ve only had to retrieve him from the Corries’ lockup twice”, Rex grumbled.

“Two out of three. Not too bad”, she offered, slightly amused.

“You’re not the one on the receiving end of Fox’s death glares”, Rex commented.

“Tell Fox to comm me next time. I can handle the glaring”.

“No need. I revoked his privileges for the rest of the leave”, he informed, taking a sip of his caf. “I had to”, he then answered her surprised frown. “It was either that or Fox would’ve written a formal reprimand”.

“Oh. Makes sense I suppose. What about the others? How’s everyone else doing?”, she added.

“Morale is a bit low”, he shrugged.

“Hope you’re taking it easy on them. With training and everything”, Lexie half-joked.

“We’re soldiers cyar’ika, running battle sims is how we relax”, he responded with a small laugh.

Lexie gave him a look and shook her head, clearly not pleased with his answer. She didn’t like being reminded of it — of how things really were. He was a soldier. They all were. That’s what they’d been made for. And whenever that truth hit her, it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Something is bothering you”, Rex observed.

“It’s nothing”, she hid behind her cup of caf, taking a sip of the warm beverage.

Rex sighed, studying the features of her face. “You’re putting up walls again”.

“I don’t want to upset you”, she mumbled as she started picking at the skin around her fingernails.

“Lexie”, he stopped her, taking her hand in his. “Come on, talk to me”.

“Soldiers”, she repeated quietly, looking down at the cup of caf on the counter.

“I am a soldier, cyare”, Rex stated, his voice laced with confusion.

“Yeah but you’re more than that. And sometimes it doesn’t feel like you believe it”, she admitted, her tone harsher than she intended.

The words hung heavy between them, and the noise of the diner seemed to muffle around them. Lexie scanned his face, trying to make out what he was thinking as an unpleasant feeling of guilt stirred in her stomach. His brows were furrowed but she wasn’t sure if in confusion or anger and he was avoiding her eyes, focusing firmly on a point over her shoulder.

“It’s just… it’s just that if all you believe you are is a soldier, if you believe you’re expendable, t-then all you will do is focus on your missions”, she tried to explain herself, becoming flustered, her voice getting quieter with each word. “And you’ll… you’ll just jump in front of a fucking laser turret and I… I-I can’t lose you too Rex”.

Rex moved his eyes back to her face, catching a glimpse of a couple tears threatening to break free before she quickly wiped them away with the hand not in his grasp. Of course this was still about Echo, he knew it was. He squeezed her hand a little tighter and shook his head with a sigh, his shoulders slumping a little.

“Lexie, I need you to understand that I am a soldier. I was bred for war, there’s no point in pretending otherwise”, Rex spoke calmly. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t value my life-”.

“I know, I’m sorry”, she interrupted, “I don’t know why I said that, it was so stupid”. She avoided his eyes, gaze lowering back the counter. She really was feeling like such an idiot, once again spewing out words without thinking them through.

“Hey”, he softly said. “I understand why you’re worried, I do. But please, cyare, trust me when I say that I will always do everything in my power to come back to you. I love you, I don’t want to lose you either and I also don’t want to ever cause you pain”.

Her head snapped up at his words, her lips slightly parted and her brows raised. Her heartbeat quickened, warmth blooming in her chest as her eyes searched his face. “What did you say?”, Lexie asked, surprise clear in her tone.

“I don’t want to cause you pain”, Rex repeated.

“N-No, before that. Did… did you say you love me?”, she clarified, her voice coming out weak and hushed. Anxiety overtook her senses as she asked the question. Had she heard him right? Maker, what if she hadn’t? What if she’d just made everything awkward?

“I…”, Rex started, but the words died on his tongue as he realised — he had said it. And it hadn’t been intentional. That wasn’t how he wanted to tell her.

He’d planned it in his head for weeks, ever since the battle of Seccaya when he first felt the desire to speak those three words. Rex was going to wait a couple more months, both to give her and himself time to grieve Echo’s death, and also to inch closer to the half-year mark of their relationship. He would then take her to the botanical gardens if they happened to be on leave on Coruscant, or if, even better, they happened to be on a planet with lakes, or oceans, or even a river, he would try to sneak the two of them to the water.

Deep down, Rex wished they would be lucky enough to be next to the ocean around that anniversary – a callback to their first kiss. But he’d fumbled the plan. And from the hopeful look in Lexie’s eyes, he knew it would hurt her if he tried to walk it back now.

“I, uhh… yeah, I did”. The Captain brought a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. Then he straightened in his seat, took a deep breath, and found her eyes again. “I love you. And I-I know it’s too soon and I don’t expect you to say it back ye-”.

“I love you too”, Lexie confessed, a wide smile blooming on her face. The crinkle in the corners of her eyes leaving no room for doubt about how genuine the feeling was.

Rex smiled at her words – a beautiful, boyish grin that made butterflies flutter in her stomach. They held each other’s gaze for a few more seconds before they both burst into soft chuckles. It was a melodic laughter, a blend of relief and love and pure happiness. Rex was still holding her hand, and he brought it to his lips, planting a quick kiss on her knuckles.

“You didn’t mean to say it, did you?”, she asked between giggles.

“No”, Rex shook his head with a laugh, “I was going to wait a little longer. Had a whole speech planned and everything”.

Lexie’s eyes instantly lit up. “I want to hear the speech”, she almost whined.

“I don’t know cyar’ika”, he hesitated.

“Gedet’ye”, she pleaded sweetly, knowing very well by now that the Mando’a term always got her what she wanted.

“Alright…”, Rex relented with a sigh.

They were briefly interrupted by FLO returning with their food, but once the plates were placed on the counter and the droid waitress wheeled away, the Captain shifted in his seat in order to face Lexie better.

“Well, like I said, this was supposed to happen later. I, uhh, I was going to start by saying ‘cyare, we’ve been together for half a year now’, which, obviously, we haven’t yet”, he commented with a small, uncertain laugh.

“Yet”, Lexie smiled. “I like the sound of that. What were you going to say next?”.

“I’m not that good with words”, he excused himself nervously, gaze dropping to the floor.

“You’re better than you think, ner kar’ta”, she encouraged.

Rex took a deep breath, finding her eyes again. He could see it in how she was looking at him – expectantly, but not in a way that pressured him to speak – she was simply truly eager to listen to what he had to say. It wouldn’t matter if he stumbled on his words, it wouldn’t matter if they weren’t poetic – just the fact that he had prepared a speech, that he cared so much as to carefully think over what he wanted to say, it was more than enough for her.

“I never thought I would experience anything like this”, Rex began, his gaze steady on hers. “I never thought I’d feel this connected to another person, I… I never thought I would ever start dreaming of a life after the war. But you, Alexis, you made me realize that there is so much more to my existence than what I was bred for and… You’ve made me yearn for a future – one by your side. I used to be content with the idea of dying in battle, defending the Republic until my last breath. But now I… I want to survive. For you. Because I love you. None of us ever had much choice in anything in our lives. But choosing this… choosing you? It’s the best decision I’ve ever made”.

Lexie felt like her heart could burst at any moment and her smile was so wide it was making her cheeks hurt.

“That, uhm… that’s it”, Rex mumbled, bringing a hand back to the back of his neck. “I hoped I’d have more time to refine it a bit and there were some other ideas I wanted to incorporate into it…”.

“Is there a document somewhere on your datapad with this speech? Does it have bullet points like when you prepare for briefings?”, Lexie exclaimed, her voice a blend of excitement and teasing. Rex’s cheeks darkened and he let out an awkward chuckle. “Maker, that’s exactly how you wrote it, isn’t it?”.

Rex couldn’t help but start laughing at the pure joy he saw in her eyes. “I can’t believe I just laid down my soul in front of you and you’re making fun of me”, he remarked, feigning indignation.

“No, you don’t get it. I’m imagining how that document must look and it’s perfect, it’s so you and I love you so, so much”, she beamed.

The Captain shook his head with a laugh. “I’ll show it to you if you really want”, he suggested, knowing very well she would ask to see it anyway.

“Uhm, of course I want to see it!”, she eagerly replied. The way she was gazing at him then changed, her eyes filling with adoration, and she bit her lip as she thought something over. “Just so you know…you’re not the only one who’s been preparing”. She paused before taking a deep breath. “I’m probably gonna butcher this but here goes… Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum”.

The smile on Rex’s face was wider than she’d ever seen. “Cyare”, he breathed.

“Did I pronounce it correctly?”, she asked quickly.

“You did. I… I can’t believe you learnt how to say it”, he uttered.

“Well, you make me happy, happier than anyone ever has. I wanted to make you happy too”, she shrugged, a blush now visible across her cheeks.

“You do, mesh’la, you really do”.

Eventually, they remembered their food – now lukewarm but still good – and resumed their little date night, grinning like idiots the whole way through.

Rex was in a good mood the next day, so much so that he actually told Fives the reason when he was asked and did not mind one bit when his little brother began teasing him. It was actually a good sign – Fives was coming to terms with his twin’s death, and was slowly beginning to get used to being himself, without Echo by his side.

He went easy on the men that day, even joined in on the Sabacc tournament that Jesse and Hardcase started in the common room, and let them convince him to stay longer every time he tried to get up. It was late in the evening when he finally made it to his office, needing to go over some operational reports. Rex didn’t mind the administrative side of his job, unlike Wolffe or Fox, who were always complaining about it. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. Not as much as Cody, however, but if Rex was honest, nobody in the entire galaxy enjoyed flimsiwork like his ori’vod did.

A signal from outside his office pulled him away from the risk assessment report he was working on. He called for whoever it was to come in. The door swished open, and in stepped Commander Fox, his crimson armor gleaming under the dim light.

“Rex”, the Commander greeted.

“Fox”, the Captain acknowledged.

“Can I have a word with you?”, Fox asked.

Rex nodded, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. The Corrie Commander strode to it and sat down, taking off his helmet and placing it on his lap. He appraised Rex with a steady gaze, his facial expression as unreadable as ever.

“If this is about Fives, I assure you-”, Rex started.

“It’s not about Fives”, Fox cut him off, “it’s about you”.

Rex frowned and leaned back into his chair, waiting for his ori’vod to continue speaking.

“I’ll cut to the chase”, he said, “I was on patrol in the CoCo District last night. Do you and General Khalla often spend time together like that? Just the two of you?”.

Rex straightened and took a breath, trying to silence the panicked thoughts that started ringing like alarms in his head. “Sometimes. She’s a good friend”.

“A friend you’re in love with”, Fox added.

Rex clenched his jaw and took a moment to decide how to reply. “Why are you here, Fox?”.

Fox leaned back in the chair, a smirk tugging at his lips and a “gotcha” twinkle sparkling in his eyes. “You didn’t deny it”.

“Is there any point? You, Cody and Wolffe have already decided I must be, don’t see what I could say to change your mind”, Rex scoffed.

“They’re worried you might get hurt”, Fox voiced, watching his little brother’s reactions carefully. “I was too, but now I think you might actually have a shot”.

Rex’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” – that was not what he expected his ori’vod to say.

“I saw the way she was looking at you. Not sure what you were telling her, but she was hooked on every word. I’d say she is interested”, the Commander shrugged.

Silence settled in the office, the Captain being at a loss for words. That really was the last thing he thought his big brother would tell him. Fox was actually… trying to encourage him? As promising as this seemed, however, he and Lexie had agreed not to let any more people find out. He decided to play dumb and take advantage of the fact that Fox hadn’t put all the pieces together.

“It’s against the rules”, Rex commented in a decisive voice.

“You don’t always have to follow the rules”, Fox huffed a small laugh. “It’s something you quickly learn when you’re in the Coruscant Guard”, he then answered his questioning squint.

“What rules have you been breaking?”, Rex challenged with a surprised huff.

“Wouldn’t you like to know Rex’ika”, the Commander chuckled. “Anyway, you should consider it”.

“Let me get this straight”, Rex leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  “You’re telling me I should start a secret relationship with a Jedi”.

“Well, speaking from experience, secret relationships can be pretty fun”, Fox replied, getting up from the chair.

Rex’s eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open. “What do you mean ‘speaking from experience’?” he exclaimed, finally finding his voice.

The Commander smirked, put his helmet back on and walked towards the door. “See you around, Rex’ika”, he called over his shoulder.

“Vod, what do you mean?”, Rex shouted after him, getting up from his chair, but Fox simply ignored him and walked out.

Rex sat back down, gaze still fixed on the now-closed durasteel door. His mind was racing, trying to figure out which Jedi his brother could’ve possibly interacted with. There was no permanent General assigned to the Guard, but the Corries did occasionally work with Jedi on specific missions. Still, Rex had no idea which Jedi Fox could have worked with in the past. His ori'vod wasn’t exactly the most open person; hell, this was probably the most Fox had ever opened up to him. Rex leaned back in his chair, a chuckle escaping him in astonishment. He reached for his comm, opening the encrypted channel between him and Lexie.

CT-7567: You are not going to believe what just happened.

Her response came almost instantly. Rex glanced at his chrono, noting the time, and realized she was likely in her room.

General Khalla: What? CT-7567: Fox came by to tell me I had a shot with you, but that's not even the craziest part. General Khalla: I’m sorry what??? CT-7567: He saw us at the diner last night but there’s nothing to worry about. He suggested I start a secret relationship with you because, and this the unbelievable part, he knows FROM EXPERIENCE that it can be “fun”. General Khalla: Give me a sec there’s so much to process. General Khalla: From experience?? Who is he screwing?

Rex huffed out a laugh and shook his head at her reply before he typed his next message.

CT-7567: That’s what I’d like to know. General Khalla: You didn’t ask?? Dammit Rex. Detailsss. I keep telling you to get me details. CT-7567: I did ask, but he ignored me and left. Honestly, trying to get Fox to open up is like trying to get you Jettise to explain things in a straight line. General Khalla: Wow, a dig at Fox and at the entire Jedi Order in one single sentence. I’m impressed Captain.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, about to type something else when two messages popped up one after the other, making him laugh.

General Khalla: Don’t you roll your eyes at me. General Khalla: And before you make another Jetti comment, I don’t even need the Force to know that’s exactly what you did. CT-7567: If you say so, General. General Khalla: Back to Fox – you need to ask him again, and you need to get an answer. CT-7567: I’ll see what I can do but don’t get your hopes up. General Khalla: I’ll dig around too. See if I can find out anything. CT-7567: I hope you won’t start tonight. It’s late. General Khalla: Obviously not tonight. I was about to go to sleep when you messaged actually. General Khalla: And you better close those reports and go to bed too. We have an early briefing tomorrow. CT-7567: Sir, yes Sir!

Rex could picture it clearly in his head. He was certain she was shaking her head as she read the message, possibly huffing out a small laugh at the same time.

General Khalla: Goodnight ner kar’ta. CT-7567: Goodnight princess.

Lexie exhaled a breath of relief as she stood around the holo-table in the communication center at the Temple. She and Fives weren’t being sent on any more covert missions for the time being; her small team was under review since it was now one member short. Instead, Lexie was looking at a blue, flickering holo-map of Felucia. The planet had been under Separatist control ever since their defeat a year prior, and the Republic was now attempting to recapture it. She wasn’t particularly pleased with the idea of returning to the jungle world, recalling how unpleasantly warm and humid the climate was, but she could console herself with the fact that she would get to stay close to Rex.

Lexie was standing next to Anakin, listening to the Captain as he presented the mitigation strategies for the terrain and environmental hazards of Felucia. Wollfe had just finished walking them through the overall risk assessment and was now stood half a step behind Master Plo – from the look in his eye, Lexie was convinced he noticed that she had only half-paid attention to what he said. She was distracted, that was true, and the reason was Fives. The ARC was stood a couple steps behind her and, although he appeared professional, was struggling with an uneasiness that she could easily sense through the Force.

As soon as they took a break, Lexie stepped out of the room and gestured for Fives to follow. She didn’t go far, stopping in an alcove along the tall wall of the hallway.

“What’s wrong?”, she asked the ARC trooper.

“There’s nothing wrong”, he replied automatically.

“Fives”, she insisted.

“There really isn’t anything wrong, General”, he maintained.

“Take that helmet off, look me in the eye and say that again”, Lexie challenged, crossing her arms over her chest.

A deep inhale was audible through the modulator as Fives hesitated. He followed the first part of her order, taking off the helmet, but he did not meet her eyes.

“It’s just… I keep thinking about the last time we were on Felucia”, he sighed. “Echo was by my side the whole time”.

Lexie huffed a wistful laugh, a memory coming into her mind. “You weren’t very pleased with him on that mission if I recall correctly”.

“He did keep shushing us. It was annoying”, Fives chuckled quietly.

“Hmm…”, she hummed in contemplation before speaking again, her tone teasing, “and what exactly happened when you didn’t listen to him?”.

“…we were attacked by a Flying ripper”, he mumbled. They were both silent for a couple seconds, lost in their own memories. “Who’s gonna keep me in check now?”, Fives half-joked, his voice laced with bitterness.

“Kix probably”, she offered, making him chuckle slightly. “I miss him too”, she admitted quietly after a pause. “When I saw you earlier I… for just a fraction of a second I was confused why he wasn’t with you”.

Fives nodded. “I’ve been trying not to look in the mirror too much. Been brushing my teeth facing the urinals”, he uttered.

“That’s gross”, she snickered.

“It is, yeah…”, he agreed.

The silence settled again between them but the faint sound of voices from the communication center was carried out into the hall – Anakin and Ahsoka were bickering. Anakin was reminding his Padawan of the last time they were on Felucia and Ahsoka was insisting she had learnt from her mistake and was more than capable of leading her own squad. The deep voice of Master Plo sounded after a while, telling his Commander to adjust their strategy with Ahsoka in mind. Lexie chuckled at the young Togruta’s victory.

 “Do you think it’ll stop hurting anytime soon?”, Fives spoke all of a sudden, his eyes meeting hers for just a second before moving down to the floor.

“It’ll never truly stop hurting. But grief eventually turns into melancholy, and melancholy you can learn to live with”, Lexie voiced with a sad smile.

“That’s not as comforting as you think it is”, he shook his head with an amused huff.

“It’s the best I can do, honey”, she shrugged.

“I guess I have to appreciate the effort”, he scoffed in a teasing manner, making her chuckle. His eyes then flickered to something behind her. “Your boyfriend’s waiting”.

“Lower your voice”, she hissed, slapping his arm softly. Lexie turned her head, seeing Rex stood just outside the communication center, looking in their general direction, concern evident on his face.

“Relax, no one else heard”, Fives rolled his eyes, bringing her attention back to him. “Do you need me for anything here? Cause if not, I’ll head back to base and get started on mission prep”.

“No, you can go. If there’s anything else, it’ll be covered in the troop briefing later”, she replied.

“Are you coming by the base later?”, he asked.

“I…”, Lexie started before shaking her head negatively. “I’m sorr-”

“I get it, Lex, don’t worry”, he reassured before nodding to the Captain and leaving.

Lexie exhaled a long breath, her shoulders slumping a little, before she turned and walked towards Rex.

“You two okay?”, he asked.

“Yeah, just feeling melancholic”, she smiled wistfully.

“We’re back on”, he informed her, gesturing to the door with a jerk of his head. “Commander Tano convinced the generals to let her lead a squad, we need to adjust unit distribution”.

“Oh great. And here I was worried the briefing might end on time.”, she deadpanned, making him quietly chuckle as he followed her back into the room.

The humidity on Felucia was worse than Lexie remembered and even as the night fell, it did little to alleviate her discomfort. The air was so thick, no matter how deeply she inhaled, it felt like her lungs were not getting enough of it, causing her to be stuck in a perpetual state of uneasiness. And she was also drenched, they all were, after days of constant fighting, walking and running through the jungle their bodies were covered by sweat and grime. It was so bad that, during the couple of hours of sleep she had managed to get in-between battles, Lexie had actually dreamed she was taking a shower. But thank the Force, the mission was almost over.

This was the last outpost, once they captured it, they could be on their way. They were so close to the finish line and as Lexie and her squad approached through the dense vegetation, all she could think about was the shower in her quarters aboard the cruiser. The spray of warm water on her skin, the smell of her body wash she could not wait to use to finally clean the layers of dirt… maybe Rex right behind her in the compact space of the shower cabin. Snap out of it. She shook her head, trying to bring her focus back to the task at hand.

Lexie raised a hand, forming a fist and signalling for the squad of troopers behind her to stop. They were approaching from the right flank, while Master Plo was coming from the left. Ahsoka and her squad should be getting to their position at the back wall any moment now, and as soon as Anakin started his assault on the front gate, they would all simultaneously attack.

A clicking sound coming from behind caught her attention and Lexie turned her head to see Hardcase messing with some settings on his rotary blaster. She let out a breathy chuckle, more in confusion than anything else, but the small huff attracted the notice of the ARC standing beside her.

“Knock it off, trooper”, Fives ordered once he saw what she was looking at.

“Sorry Sir”, Hardcase complied, “just eager for a good fight”.

“And what were the last few days? Training sims?”, Lexie quipped.

“They weren’t exciting enough Sir”, the trooper replied, and from his voice she could just tell he was grinning under his helmet.

Lexie shook her head and chuckled. “Should be any minute now. Just waiting on the signal”.

And she was correct, within a minute Master Plo ordered their artillery to open fire, and once the gate was lowered and Anakin began his attack, Lexie and her team charged from the right flank. Lexie used the Force to jump over the wall, igniting her lightsabers as soon as her feet touched the ground. Her troopers were right behind, using jetpacks to assist them in getting over the fortification. The sound of blasterfire was filling the air and she could see the Kel Dor slicing through the droids on the opposite side of the compound. She and her squad started pushing through the droid defences, spreading out and making their way to the middle.

Lexie charged at a dwarf spider droid, jumping over it and slicing it clean through the middle with one of her yellow blades. She glanced towards the main gate, checking to see which 501st troopers from Anakin’s squad had made it inside the outpost. She briefly made out Jesse gunning down 3 battle droids before an urgent ripple through the Force made her turn in her heels. She quickly dove behind a trooper from her squad, deflecting a couple rounds of blasterfire that would’ve hit him in the back. He was one of the newer additions to the battalion, and as soon as he heard the commotion, he turned and started firing at the droids that almost took his life.

“Thank you General”, he said with a shaky breath once the droids were laid on the ground, smoke coming from the holes in their heads.

“Anytime. But watch your back from now on”, she shouted over the blasterfire.

“Yes, Sir”.

Her eyes skimmed over the simple teardrop painted on his helmet, matching the ones on his shoulder plates. Before she could say anything else, she had to quickly raise her lightsabers and deflect a new wave of blaster shots, this time coming from a group of BX commandos, while the trooper used his carbine to shoot as many of the droids as he could.

“Tup, was it?”, she asked over her shoulder as she swung her blades around.

“Yes, Sir”, the trooper confirmed from her left side.

“Good aim”, she commented as two BXs fell to the ground.

“Thank you Sir”, he replied, a hint of pride present in his voice.

 Her wrist comm then chirped, Fives’ urgent voice coming through. “More spiders on your right, General”.

“On it”, she replied as she charged at the three DSD1s.

With a swift push of the Force, she sent one of the spiders crashing into a group of battle droids marching behind it, a burst of sparks erupting as they collapsed in a crackling pile of short-circuiting metal. Lexie then stabbed her lightsaber through the second spider, its carcass melting around the scorching plasma of the yellow blade. She turned and was about to take care of the last DSD1, when Anakin dropped behind it, slicing the droid clean through.

“I had that, Skywalker”, Lexie grumbled.

“Should’ve moved faster”, her friend teased.

He then quickly made his way to the central platform, slicing the droids crossing his path, finally destroying the command droid. The clones easily gunned down the remaining B1s. Lexie extinguished her lightsabers and walked over the other two Jedi.

“The outpost is secure”, Anakin announced from the platform. “Good job, Corporal. Where’s Commander Tano”, he asked Comet.

“She was covering our flank when we scaled the wall”, the trooper replied.

Lexie could immediately sense the shift in Anakin’s emotions, anxiety flickering in his Force signature.

 “Everybody fan out. I want a perimeter sweep now”, he ordered before lifting his vambrace closer to his mouth, “Ahsoka, state your location”. He waited for a reply but nothing came through. “Ahsoka, come in. Can you hear me? Ahsoka!”.

“Let me try”, Lexie interjected, “maybe there’s a problem with your comm”. Anakin nodded, his eyes full of concern. Lexie lifted her own vambrace and cleared her throat before speaking. “Ahsoka, are you there? Can you hear me?”.

There was no answer and Lexie’s own anxiety was starting to rise. She glanced towards Anakin, noticing the way he was clenching and unclenching his natural hand. Her eyes then moved to Rex, now stood a few steps next to her, finding the black visor of his helmet.

“Let’s organise search parties, Captain. I’ll take a team and start at her last known location”, she instructed. The Captain nodded and began dividing troopers into groups. As she started walking away, a faint flash of hope flickered in her mind and she lifted her vambrace to her lips again. “Kix, come in”, she spoke into her comm.

“Yes, Sir”, the medic’s voice sounded.

“Is Ahsoka at the med tent by any chance?”, she asked.

“No Sir. Why?”.

 There goes my last idea. “Kriff’s sake. She’s missing… if she turns up there contact me immediately”, she requested.

“Understood, General”.

They searched all night, but Ahsoka was nowhere to be found. Lexie was just returning to the outpost, with Fives, Tup and Hardcase in tow from what was probably their tenth perimeter sweep, when she saw Rex coming up from the other direction. The Captain took his helmet off and shook his head negatively as he met her eyes, before approaching Anakin.

“General, we’ve been over the same area a dozen times”, Rex informed, “there’s no sign of Commander Tano”.

“Not good enough Rex, try again!”, Anakin ordered through gritted teeth.

The Captain gave a curt nod and met her eyes again as he turned to walk away.

“It’s not you he’s angry-”, Lexie started.

“I know, it’s alright”, he interrupted before leaving to regroup with the search party.

She watched him for a second then took a deep breath and joined the other two Jedi inside the compound.

“Skywalker, our mission here is finished. We must return to Coruscant”, she heard Plo Koon say as she came to stand by Anakin’s side.

“I am not abandoning her”, her friend declared.

“Your emotions are clouding your judgement”, the Kel Dor warned.

“I will not leave her fate up to others!”, Anakin protested.

“It’s time to go”, Master Plo announced before walking away, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Anakin met her eyes, nodding slowly a couple times, his shoulders slumping in resignation.

“Call everybody in Rex, we’re leaving”, Lexie spoke into her comm, her tone defeated.

Her friend turned and followed the Jedi Master to the LAAT, but Lexie lingered a couple seconds, closing her eyes and searching through the Force just like Anakin had been doing when she came back to the compound. She knew she wouldn’t find her – Ahsoka was long gone from the planet of that she was certain – but she still felt like she should try. She was met with nothing else but the life signatures of the clones making their way back to the outpost, and the general buzz of life from all the animals milling around. She opened her eyes, sighed and walked to the gunship.

“Alexis”, Master Plo said once she joined them inside, “the Council wants to see you when we get back to Coruscant. We need to discuss your covert operations team”.

“Of course, Master”, she agreed, swallowing past the lump already forming in her throat.

A bright flash of lightning illuminated the landing platform and the domes of Tipoca City, followed by the loud rumble of thunder that made the ship faintly vibrate. That felt close, maybe right above them. The storm was definitely getting stronger.

“Is that Commander Hammer?”, Lexie asked, trying to make out any details obstructed by the torrential rain.

“No, that’s Blitz”, Fives replied, peering thought the viewport.

“Didn’t expect a welcome party with all this rain”, she remarked.

“We’re used to it”, he laughed.

“Still, let’s not keep him waiting for too long”, Lexie said as she got up from her seat. Fives hesitated, his fists clenched tightly on his lap, a frown replacing the usual carefree expression on his face. “I don’t like it either…”, she admitted.

“I know… I know. It’s not you I’m angry at, it’s-”.

“The Council? Trust me, I know what that feels like”, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

Fives took a deep breath and nodded before he stood up. “Alright, let’s go get a new teammate”.

Taglist: @selene131 , @yoursrosie , @olasz-2003 , @ichimatsu-gal , @whisperofwild If anyone else wants to be tagged in future chapters let me know