#ask the reflect pledge

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia! I hope you're doing well! I have a question about Patreon membership. I currently support you in the Augus and Gwyn tier, paid twice per month. I'm very interested in the Gary and Efnisien tier, but I wouldn't be able to afford doing that twice per month. If I capped it at one payment per month it would be the same as what I currently pay, though. Are you okay with people choosing a higher tier and only paying the minimum amount for that tier?

Hi anon!

This is a great question, and I'm totally okay with people limiting their pledge, in fact I encourage this. So if you go to the Patreon About section and scroll down, you'll find this if you ever need to double check again! ->

If you want all the rewards but have a limited budget, cap your pledge and join a higher tier! You can also change your pledge amount – higher or lower – as your life dictates. This is meant to work for you, so do whatever feels comfortable. I'm happy to have you here for as long as you're happy to be here, I hope I can make your stay far warmer and cozier than what I put most of my characters through!

So yeah, I fully understand that not everyone can afford the double charge, but if you can on the Augus&Gwyn tier, then absolutely please upgrade to the Gary&Efnisien tier to get access to Constellations and the Game Theory edits! And limit your pledge so you're still paying the same amount.

Who knows anon, one day you might be able to afford more, but until then, I want people to enjoy their time on the Patreon as much as they can. I 100% wouldn't suggest it on the Patreon (or here when I remember to mention tiers on Patreon) if I wasn't completely okay with it, so you don't have to worry anon, it's really okay :)

[isaadore]

ALWAYS THE BRIDESMAID, NEVER THE BRIDE CARLOS SAINZ

pairing carlos sainz x best friend!reader

SUMMARY as you stand beside carlos on his wedding day, watching him pledge his life to someone else, memories and silent hopes haunt you. for years, you’d been his confidante, his closest friend, maybe even the one meant for him—or so you thought. now, he slips away into a future that doesn’t include you. word count 1.9k words

warnings ANGST, the reader is kind of selfish and self-centered, carlos is also kind of a red flag

note there’s a possibility of a part 2 if u guys really want to see them together 🤞

THE CHAPEL IS QUIET besides the soft shuffle of footsteps and murmured instructions as people take their places for the wedding rehearsal. You stand toward the back, watching Carlos and his fiancée laugh together at the altar. The two of them look flawless—she, radiant in a dress that reflects the soft light of the stained glass, and him, with that familiar sparkle in his eye. But this time, the sparkle is for someone else. It hasn’t been for you in a long time, and you’ve accepted that. Mostly.

The officiant clears his throat, prompting everyone to get into place, and you feel a nudge at your elbow. One of the bridesmaids is giving you a soft, knowing smile. “You all right?” she asks, her voice a whisper. You return the smile with a nod, brushing off the pang in your chest. It’s silly, really, to feel this way now. But as you turn your attention back to Carlos, his easy laughter filling the room as he looks at his fiancée, you can’t help but feel like you’re watching something break apart inside yourself. You’ve known Carlos for over a decade; shared secrets, fears, dreams—and, maybe foolishly, you thought those moments meant something deeper. You thought, someday, it would be you he looked at like this.

The wedding rehearsal progresses, and everyone goes through the motions, but you drift in and out of focus, memories tugging you backward. You see yourself, more than a decade ago, sitting beside Carlos at a karting track, cheering on racers with passion. It was the summer you met, the two of you inseparable from that day on. You’d sat shoulder to shoulder, laughing and betting on who’d win, and he’d promised he’d race professionally one day. “Formula One,” he’d said with a grin, “just you watch.”

From then on, it was the two of you tackling life together, side by side. Countless late nights, coffee cups stacked high, pouring over notes, and talking about the future. His career took off like he promised, and you watched, proud, as he took to the track just like he’d always said he would. You were his constant cheerleader, always there in the stands for his races, always beside him when things went wrong, and always celebrating when they went right. Friends, family—even strangers—used to say you two were destined. “You’ll end up together, I can see it in your eyes,” they’d say, smiling knowingly. “It’s written in the stars.”

You never said anything to Carlos about those whispers, even when you let yourself hope there might be truth in them. But life, you learned, has its own plans. Time passed, people came and went, and somewhere along the way, the idea of “someday” slipped through your fingers. Carlos met her, and in what felt like an instant, everything changed. The moments you once shared were fewer, his time was taken, his heart somewhere you couldn’t reach. And soon enough, the two of you fell into this unspoken distance. You stayed silent, letting him drift, because you wanted him to be happy—even if it meant being just his friend.

The rehearsal dinner is a warm, intimate gathering, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Carlos and his fiancée sit at the head of the table, surrounded by family and friends, all of whom raise a toast to the happy couple. You sit a little way down, listening to the speeches with a smile plastered on, wondering how, after all these years, you’re suddenly so far away from him. He doesn’t seem to notice, caught up in the moment, until later, when he manages to break free from the crowd and find you sitting alone.

“Hey,” he says, sliding into the chair beside you. His gaze is soft, filled with that familiar warmth, and for a second, it feels like you’re back to the two of you, just as you were before.

“Hey,” you respond, a little too casually, trying to hide the flutter in your chest.

He grins, nudging your arm. “I was just telling my fiancée about the time we drove halfway across the city in the middle of the night just because you wanted to see the sunrise over the ocean. She thinks we’re both crazy.”

“We were crazy,” you laugh, the memory bittersweet. “I think I still have sand in my shoes from that trip.” It feels so easy, talking to him like this, like slipping into an old, worn sweater that fits perfectly. And for a moment, the weight of everything else fades away.

His gaze grows distant, and there’s something in his eyes, almost nostalgic. “You remember when we used to joke about getting married if we were both still single by thirty?” he says, his tone light, but you can feel the undercurrent of something else in his voice.

Your heart skips, your own laughter catching in your throat. “I remember,” you say softly. It was always a joke, something you’d laugh about in those late-night talks, back when the idea of growing up still seemed distant. But it was a joke you both wanted to believe in, at least a little.

He meets your eyes, something unreadable flickering across his face, but then he brushes it off with a laugh. “Guess we got a little off track,” he says, his voice casual like he’s trying to make light of it.

You smile, trying to hide the ache inside. “Yeah. Life tends to do that.” You want to say more, to ask him if he ever wonders what might have been, but the words stick in your throat, trapped by the weight of years unspoken.

That night, you lie awake in your hotel room, staring at the ceiling as memories play like a silent movie across your mind. Every late-night conversation, every shared dream, every moment you thought you’d get to keep forever. The reality hits hard, and there’s a sense of finality in it all. Tomorrow, Carlos will belong to someone else in a way he’s never belonged to anyone, and all those years of silent hopes and what-ifs will finally be laid to rest.

A soft knock breaks the silence, and you know who it is before you even open the door. Carlos stands in the hallway, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. “Couldn’t sleep,” he says quietly as if apologizing for being here.

Neither of you speaks as you let him in. He sits on the edge of your bed, looking around your room, and for a moment, you’re transported back to a thousand nights like this—quiet, comfortable, just the two of you in your own little world.

“Feels like old times, huh?” he murmurs, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. There’s a sadness in his eyes, something that tells you he’s feeling the weight of this moment, too.

You nod, swallowing against the tightness in your throat. You want to ask him why he came, why he couldn’t sleep, but instead, you ask the one question you’ve never dared to before. “Carlos… why her?”

He looks at you, startled as if he hadn’t expected the question. For a moment, he seems lost, his gaze shifting down to his hands, his fingers tracing patterns on his palm. “What do you mean?”

You hesitate, struggling to find the right words. “I just… I thought maybe…” You laugh softly, trying to make it sound casual, but the pain is unmistakable. “I thought we were closer, that maybe we could’ve… I don’t know.”

Carlos sighs, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re my best friend,” he says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “You’ve always been there for me, through everything. But…” He trails off, searching for words that don’t quite come. “She fits into my life in a way that’s just… different.”

It’s a simple answer, but it hurts more than you’d expected. There’s no twist of fate, no reason beyond his choice, and somehow, that’s worse. Sometimes, love is just a decision, and he chose her.

The day of the wedding dawns bright and warm, and the chapel fills with guests, soft music floating through the air as they take their seats. You stand at the front in your bridesmaid’s dress, trying to ignore the weight of every whispered “what-if” that has lingered over you all these years. You can feel the stares from the guests, their knowing glances as they look at you, wondering why it was never you. They know the history you share with Carlos; they know the stories of two kids who were always meant to be something more. But life, you remind yourself, had other plans.

The music swells, and the bride begins her walk down the aisle. Everyone turns to watch her, but your gaze remains on Carlos, the way his face lights up as he sees her, the love in his eyes so clear, so unshakable. For a moment, he glances your way, and you think you see something—hesitation, maybe even regret—but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a quiet resolve as he turns back to his bride.

The ceremony is beautiful, each word of his vows carving an ache deeper into your heart. He speaks of love, of loyalty, of promises he’ll keep, and you know he means every word. And as they say their vows, you realize, finally and completely, that this is the end of whatever you and Carlos once shared. The life you’d dreamed of with him will remain just that—a dream.

At the reception, the air buzzes with joy and laughter, everyone is caught up in the celebration. You watch from a distance as Carlos dances with his new wife, his gaze never leaving her. They are lost in each other, and you feel, more than ever, like an outsider, a ghost in someone else’s story. But as the night draws on, Carlos finds you, and for one last time, he pulls you into a dance.

“Thank you for being here,” he says softly, his hand warm in yours, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t think I could have done this without you.”

You force a smile, trying to mask the ache in your chest. “Always the bridesmaid, right?” you joke, but your voice cracks, betraying you.

Carlos’s hand tightens for a second, and there’s a look in his eyes you’ll never fully understand. For one last moment, you let yourself imagine that this is your wedding, that you’re the one he’s holding, that you’re the one he chose. But as the song ends, so does the illusion, and he steps back, letting you go. And you realize that this is how it was always meant to end.

As the night fades, you slip away quietly, watching from a distance as Carlos laughs and dances with his bride, surrounded by everyone who loves them. The story you’d clung to for so long is over, and as you walk away, leaving him to his new life, you feel the weight of a decade’s worth of memories finally begin to ease. Carlos will always be a part of you, and you will always be a part of him. But as you disappear into the night, the life you’d imagined fades into memory, a story that never came to be.

Maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ CS55 MASTERLIST

[reasonsforhope]

Article

"The Democratic Party largely coalesced around Vice President Harris as its likely new presidential nominee on Monday [July 22, 2024], as she kicked off her campaign by promising to prosecute a forceful case against Republican nominee Donald Trump and defend the legacy of President Biden.

Hours after she delivered remarks laying out some of the themes of her campaign, Harris secured pledges of support from a majority of Democratic National Convention delegates, a forceful show of unity behind her presidential campaign that signals she is likely to officially become the party’s nominee next month.

“Over the next 106 days, we are going to take our case to the American people, and we are going to win,” Harris said during a visit to campaign headquarters in Wilmington, Del., where she was greeted by a group of energized staffers for Biden’s now-abandoned candidacy. Harris accused Trump of wanting to “take our country backwards to a time before many of our fellow Americans had full freedoms and rights.” She added, “we believe in a brighter future that makes room for all Americans.”

Biden dialed into the impromptu meeting, using his first public remarks after dropping out of the presidential race Sunday to thank his staff and ask them to support Harris with “every bit of your heart and soul.”

“The name has changed at the top of the ticket, but the mission hasn’t changed at all,” said Biden, who joined remotely from Rehoboth Beach, where he has been recovering from a case of covid. “We still need to save this democracy. Trump is still a danger to the community. He’s a danger to the nation.”

The high-energy, highly unified setting reflected the broader sentiment across the Democratic Party, in which Harris’s swift ascendancy has upended an already tumultuous and unpredictable presidential race. After being exhausted by weeks of turmoil and infighting over Biden’s prospects, relieved and newly energized Democrats across the country rushed to embrace Harris’s candidacy and unite around the goal of defeating Trump.

Less than 36 hours after Biden abruptly exited the race and endorsed Harris as his successor, hundreds of state delegates, the majority of Democratic lawmakers and governors, a group of state party chairs, and several influential interest groups threw their support behind Harris, as other potential candidates said they would not challenge her. Top congressional leaders followed suit, with Senate Majority Leader Charles E. Schumer (D-N.Y.), House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries (D-N.Y.) and former House speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) expressing support for Harris on Monday.

While a small number of Democrats have advocated an open, competitive process, Harris appeared to have an inside track Monday to quickly securing the nomination ahead of the party’s convention next month...

After celebrating the extended infighting and discord that plagued Democrats in the aftermath of Biden’s halting performance at the June 27 debate, Trump’s allies watched Monday as Democratic leaders quickly fell in line behind Harris.

“I’m excited to fully endorse Vice President Harris for the next president of the United States,” Kentucky Gov. Andy Beshear (D) said Monday on MSNBC’s “Morning Joe” program. “The vice president is smart and strong, which will make her a good president, but she’s also kind and has empathy, which can make her a great president.” ...

Democratic Govs. Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan, J.B. Pritzker of Illinois and Wes Moore of Maryland also endorsed Harris on Monday, joining a growing list of potential rivals for the nomination that instead opted to endorse her candidacy. Govs. Gavin Newsom of California and Josh Shapiro of Pennsylvania, each considered potential candidates, both endorsed Harris on Sunday.

Democratic leaders on Monday unveiled a new virtual process for selecting a nominee to replace Biden that would conclude by Aug. 7, ahead of the nominating convention in Chicago next month. The dates for the virtual process will be announced on Wednesday.

The private doubts about Harris’s vulnerabilities and less-than-impressive polling numbers largely remained unspoken Monday as Democrats appeared eager to consolidate around a candidate and head off a messy competition for the nomination 106 days before the Nov. 5 election. During her visit to campaign headquarters in Wilmington, Harris was greeted by more than 100 staff members who gave her a standing ovation. The room was covered in newly printed signs that read “Harris for President,” though at least one lingering “Biden-Harris” sign stood as a testament to how rapidly the presidential race had shifted.

Campaign aides said more than 28,000 new volunteers had signed up to lend support, more than 100 times the typical number. Harris, who has been traveling around the country, planned to continue her campaign travel this week.

Trump had built an advantage in polls of key swing states and has at times appeared frustrated with Biden’s exit from the race, lamenting Sunday that he had to “start all over again” after long focusing on Biden...

Harris’s operation raised a record $81 million in the first 24 hours after Biden dropped out and endorsed his vice president, aides said. A group of tens of thousands of Black women gathered on a virtual call Sunday evening to showcase their support for Harris’s bid to become the first woman of color to be president...

Harris has already begun leaning into her background as a prosecutor and state attorney general as she began to cast the race against Trump in a new light.

“In those roles I took on perpetrators of all kinds,” she said. “Predators who abused women, fraudsters who ripped off consumers, cheaters who broke the rules for their own gain. So hear me when I say I know Donald Trump’s type.”"

-via The Washington Post, July 22, 2024

[occamstfs]

No Need to Pledge, Just Drink.

Thanks for the Warm Response! Here's a shorter piece - Occam

It’s definitely not normal that they invited me to this party. It was a direct invite too, obviously. I wouldn’t show up unless someone explicitly asked. From what I understand frat parties don’t usually have a guest list, but I am not one to just wander in. 

Judging by how unpleasant this is so far I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have accepted Derek’s invitation at all. I start to look around for the nearest exits which is when Derek finally shows his face, approaching me with two drinks in hand.

“Sup bruh! I’m so stoked you could make it! This party is gonna be absolutely killer soon so I hope you can stick around!”

“Ah, well I was-”

“I brought you a little drink broski! I know shit like this isn’t your cup of tea so I figured you’d take the assist, this stuff’ll loosen you right up.”

I take the cup from him and just avoid wretching from fumes of alcohol coming from the cup now in my hand. I assumed it was just a beer but it looks like some horrible mixed drink.

“It’s Everclear and Hawaiian Punch bro! As soon as you get past the first taste you barely notice the burn!”

He continues to stand there as I fail to brainstorm a way out of at least trying this. I see a potted plant across the room and know my next move. I’ll give the drink one chance to get Derek off my back and dump it as soon as he turns his.

It’s honestly not as bad as I thought it would be, it doesn’t even seem alcoholic actually? It’s just sweet? Almost to a sickly degree. I don’t really taste the punch either, it's just… 

I start to take another sip before noticing that impossibly, my cup is already empty. I only took a sip though? Something, something is not right. I start to freeze up before Derek starts shaking me, his hand holding a second cup of the punch high above his head shouting, “Brooo! You just demolished that! Fuck! I’ve gotta see that again!” He shoves the second cup into my hand and begins to push his way back towards the punch bowl “Everyone outta the way! This nerd has got to have more to drink!”

I watch him longer than I should have, dumbfounded holding this drink that I didn’t want. Don’t want? My vision gets blurry as I watch him maneuver his massive body through the crowd. Woah, I guess this is what alcohol does? I feel myself start to grin watching him struggle to fill a two-liter with whatever that punch is. Jungle juice? Oh Shit? Is he bringing that to me? 

The DJ switches playlists and I feel excitement quickly start to build in my chest. I fuckin’ love this song! I start to inch towards the crowd before I’m elbowed in the face and my glasses fall directly into my cup.

“Hey dude! I need those to fuc- I need those to see” I instinctively shout as I look to see my glasses just peeking out of my cup. Before picking them out though, I notice that my vision is actually better now? Which briefly starts to set my veins afire once more, why have I been going to a fucking optometrist for years I start to think, clenching my jaw before I look closer into my cup.

This alcohol must really be getting to me or Derek is pulling another prank on me or something. My hair looks so stupid up like that. I start to move my hand to fix it before seeing my arm reflected. 

Or is that even my arm? It shouldn’t be? It’s the size of my head. I shouldn't be able to life something that size if I wanted to. I need to get some fresh air, or just some quiet space. I need to get out. I need-

“Party king coming through! Sorry bro I couldn’t get the bottle to fuckin work so I hope two more cups will do” I see two cups clenched in massive hairy, may as well be, paws starting to pass back through the dance floor. My own hand flexes and I drop my drink, spilling it all over my shoes as I bolt to find a bathroom. Cheers of “Party Foul” ring out as I dash, completely ditching my glasses without a second thought.

I weasel my way through the crowd feeling less agile than usual. Finding it much easier to shove these pipsqueaks out of the way than to squeeze between them before I find peace in the second floor restroom, miraculously without a line outside. I don’t question why I suddenly know the layout of this house as I slam the door and take a deep breath. Music still comes through the door as I reach for the light and prepare to look in the mirror.

The haircut was the least of my concerns. I look like a beast as I start to hyperventilate. I feel the music outside the room quicken matching my heartbeat, my newly 20/20 eyes stare into themselves as they turn from blue to a deep brown and visibly lose acuity. I feel my biceps pressing against the sleeves of my t-shirt narrowly avoiding a deliberate flex to rip the shirt apart. 

I notice a stink other than jungle juice coming up from my feet as I feel them beginning to push against the tongue of my shoe. I collapse to the floor and quickly struggle to untie my laces before squeezing my feet out. Immediately apparent are drastically rattier socks than I remember putting on to get ready for this party. Full of holes and stains, I dread knowing whose socks these are and what is happening before recognizing them as my own. Or really they could be any of my bros socks but who cares.

As soon as this thought pushes its way into my head a pit drops into my stomach. I am an only child, I don’t have any bros, or well, I have a house full of bros now right? Getting up off the floor I again glance into the mirror. My jaw is wider, my stubble itches but just like it always does, right? I put my face in my hands creating enough strain in my small shirt to force a tear down the back. Why am I wearing such tiny tiny clothes anyway? Must be Derek hazing me again huh. I think holding in a guffaw, I wonder how he got me in these?

I tear the rest of my shirt away before doing the same to my pants which is when I learn that I have apparently been going commando this whole time. Now free of these nerdy-ass clothes I flex in the mirror. Pecs popping like always, my bros always say the hair hides my pump but who cares bro I want to look like a man. I briefly shake my cock at myself in the mirror smirking and see laid out behind me are a change of clothes that Derek must have laid out for me. 

There are a pair of slides, some athletic shorts and a massive stringer that says “Party Prince” Bro! He must have made us matching shirts! 

I quickly start to change to match with my Bro and see cologne on the counter. I’m sure bro won't mind if I use it. Each spritz I feel myself fill out my tank even more, veins beginning to peak out down my arms and my package becomes even harder to miss in my shorts. I do a few more poses in the mirror before hearing a knock at the bathroom door.

“Bro you in there? The party’s dying without you bro!”

Hearing my big bros’ cry for help I get my head in the game. I’ve got to bring it tonight. I kick the locked door open, completely shattering the door frame as I cry out- “Who’s ready to drink tonight,” tossing the awaiting cup of jungle juice into the air over the crowd.

[rafedarling]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐲/𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

summary: y/n attends the wedding of her best friend, rafe cameron, and his bride sofia. In a bittersweet moment, she reflects on her deep, unspoken love for rafe as she makes a heartfelt speech during the reception. despite the pain of unrequited love, she stays strong, showing genuine happiness for rafe’s new chapter with sofia. | word count: 1,0k

warning(s): english is not my first language. your point of view, contains themes of unrequited love, emotional vulnerability, and heartache, no happy ending. based on ‘love, rosie’.

au: i wrote small drabble while watching ‘love, rosie’, i hope you’d cry with me, also listen to lost with you by patrick watson while read this. like, reblog and comment/feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @mileyraes @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy @enjoymyloves

His wedding was perfect, or at least it seemed that way to everyone else. Crisp white flowers adorned every table, soft glow candlelight. Sofia looked stunning in her dress—elegant, poised, and radiant in the way brides should be. I could see why Rafe fell for her. She was the picture of everything he probably wanted. Everything.

I stood in the back of the crowd as they exchanged vows, a bittersweet lump forming in my throat. It was strange, watching someone you love pledge their life to someone else. But I had no choice. This was Rafe. He was my best friend before anything else, and even though I had buried my feelings for him for years, today they seemed to rise up like a tidal wave threatening to crash over me.

I should have told him. Maybe not today. Maybe not even yesterday. But a long time ago, when we were still reckless teenagers, when we stayed up all night laughing at dumb inside jokes, and he looked at me like I was the only one in the room. That’s when I should have said it. That I loved him.

But now, it was too late. Sofia was his future. She stood across from him, gripping his hands, tears of happiness filling her eyes, and all I could do was smile and clap like everyone else. Like the supportive friend I’d been for so long.

The reception flowed with music and laughter, the champagne bubbling like the excitement in the air. I was halfway through a glass of wine when the best man finished his speech, and the MC signaled for me to step up to the microphone. My heart raced as I stood, smoothing my dress and moving to the front.

Rafe shot me a look as I walked up, his familiar crooked grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He was happy, genuinely so. And even though my heart was heavy, I couldn’t let that ruin this moment for him.

The microphone was cool in my hand as I cleared my throat, looking out at the sea of faces, some familiar, some not. Then, I found his eyes—Rafe’s deep blue ones—and took a steadying breath.

“For the people who I haven’t had the pleasure to greet… Hi, I’m Y/n,” I started, my voice sounding steadier than I expected. “Rafe and I have known each other forever. We’ve been through it all together—good times, bad times, and some incredibly embarrassing times. Rafe, for example, can drink to an almost lethal alcohol concentration.”

A few laughs rippled through the crowd, and Rafe chuckled, shaking his head in mock embarrassment. I smiled, feeling the warmth of our shared memories.

“On my 18th birthday, he decided that the best way to celebrate was tequila. Lots and lots of tequila. And while I’m pretty sure we both blocked most of that night from memory, I can confirm that Rafe is, indeed, capable of not remembering an entire evening.”

The room filled with laughter, and even Sofia laughed along, her hand resting gently on Rafe’s arm. I swallowed hard, pushing down the pang in my chest.

“But in all seriousness,” I continued, my tone softening, “choosing the person to share your life with is one of the most important decisions we make. Because if you get it wrong, life can become… well, gray. We both know that well, don’t we, Rafe?” I smiled at him, and for a second, I saw the flicker of understanding in his eyes.

“Your friendship has brought color to my life, and I’ve been lucky enough to have you by my side in some of the darkest moments.” My voice wavered slightly, but I kept going. “I’m the luckiest person in the world for that. And I hope I haven’t ever taken it for granted, though maybe I have at times. Because sometimes, you don’t realize that the best thing that ever happened to you has been right under your nose all along.”

I paused, letting the words hang in the air. Rafe’s smile softened, but I couldn’t tell if he truly understood what I meant. If he’d ever understood how deeply I cared.

“And that’s okay,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. “Because I’ve learned something important: no matter where you are, no matter what you do, or who you’re with, I will always be here for you. I’ll always love you. Like a sister loves her brother, and like a friend loves a friend.”

I saw Rafe’s eyes glisten slightly, and Sofia squeezed his hand tighter, her gaze flicking between us as if trying to decipher something. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t take back the years of silence. This was his day, not mine.

“I’ll always stand guard for your dreams, Rafe,” I finished, raising my glass. “No matter how far-fetched or impossible they may seem. So, let’s raise a toast to the bride and groom. To Rafe and Sofia Cameron.”

The room echoed my words as everyone lifted their glasses in unison. Rafe smiled at me, a genuine, heartfelt smile that felt like a dagger in my chest. But I smiled back, because that’s what friends do. They celebrate the happiness of the ones they love, even if it’s not their own.

As I sat down, I felt the weight of everything I didn’t say pressing down on me. The laughter and chatter around me blurred into background noise as I stared at my glass, running my thumb along its edge. I was happy for him, truly. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling of what could have been.

Maybe in another life, it would’ve been me standing beside him. Maybe in another life, I would have told him how I felt long before today. But in this life, I would remain what I always was—his best friend.

With music and dancing and stolen glances, I realized that sometimes… love isn’t about being with someone. Sometimes, love is about letting go, and hoping that they find happiness, even if it’s with someone else.

[brokebonewritings]

Moonlight Lovers

Gale Dekarios x Fem! Reader

Tags: 18+, Fluff, Smut, Domestic Bliss

Summary: You and Gale spend a lust filled evening together. One of the many shortly after returning to Waterdeep and getting married.

Word Count: 1.9K

Navigation || Masterlist

"The moon is a beautiful sight tonight, isn't it."

You jump as the husky voice appears to suddenly, but you turn around knowing that it's your husband. Gale leans in the doorway of the balcony as you stand at the rail looking up at the stars. You smile as you watch him walk to you, placing a kiss at the temple of your head.

As the cool breeze ruffled your hair, you closed your eyes and leaned into Gale's touch. His presence was a comforting anchor amidst the vastness of the night sky. Together, you both gazed at the luminous moon, its ethereal glow casting a soft radiance over the world below.

It seemed as if time stood still in that moment. The worries and troubles that had plagued you throughout the day melted away. You often sought solace in the late hours of the night, finding solace in the gentle dance between darkness and light.

Lost in your own thoughts, you whispered, "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to touch the moon."

Gale chuckled softly, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Oh darling, if only we could reach out and grasp it. But sometimes, it's the beauty of things just beyond our reach that enthralls us the most."

You turned to look at Gale, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of longing and wonder. There was a distant look in his gaze, as if he were envisioning making it a reality. It was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him - his ability to see the extraordinary in the ordinary.

Lost in the allure of the night, you both continued to stand there. One of his hands holding your waist, as the other grips the rail. The world around you fell away as you found yourselves drifting into a shared reverie.

Suddenly a shooting star streaked across the sky, drawing a gasp of wonder from you. It was as if the universe was responding to your unspoken desires, affirming that there was indeed still magic left in this world.

"You've bewitched me, truly, you are even more stunning than the moon." Gale whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle rustling of the wind. "I would give anything to make your dreams come true."

You turned to face him, your heart swelling with love for this man who cherished every ounce of your being. "And I, you," you replied, a tender smile gracing your lips.

He leans in and nuzzles your jawline with his nose. Peppering your skin with light kisses. As Goosebumps prickle your skin, you feel an electric current surge through your veins.

In that moment, you both knew that the moon was not the only thing that held irresistible allure in the night sky. The depth of your love for each other seemed to transcend the earthly realm, reaching heights that only the stars could fathom.

Gale's lips find yours, and the world around you dissolves into a sea of passion and desire. In each kiss, there is an unspoken promise of forever, a pledge to explore the wonders of life together.

"Do you ever regret what we have done?" You ask, the question comes suddenly and without warning. This causes him to stop his shower of his kisses.

Gale pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. His hand gently brushes against your cheek as he speaks, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Regret? Never," he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. "Every step we've taken, every choice we've made, has led us to this moment. And in this moment, I am the happiest man alive."

"I don't regret it either," you reply softly, your fingers intertwining with Gale's. "All those risks we took, all those obstacles we overcame, they were worth it to be here—to be with you."

His face softens, his eyes reflecting a profound sense of gratitude. "To be with you," he echoes, his voice filled with an overwhelming tenderness. "There is nothing in this world I would trade for the love we share."

You're quick to turn and jump in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he holds you against the railing. Kissing him with full passion, you let your love and desire consume you both.

"You really are going to be the death of me, aren't you?"

"I might be but I think you've got me in a bind here, Mr. Dekarios."

"How so?"

Biting at his lower lip, and pulling ever so lightly. You hear him groan at the sensation. "Because my body, and soul are forever yours."

Gale's eyes darken with desire as he holds you tighter, his hands roaming over your body. "And mine, my love, belongs to you," he whispers huskily, his voice filled with an intoxicating mix of passion and adoration.

Without breaking eye contact, Gale carries you across the threshold into the bedroom. You had forgotten just how strong your husband was. When he approached the bed, he laid you down gently before climbing above you.

His eyes burn with a hunger that matches your own, igniting a fire within your veins. As he hovers above you, you feel the weight of his desire pressing against your body, a tantalizing promise of the passion to come.

With a feather-light touch, his fingertips trace the contours of your face, leaving a trail of fiery sensations in their wake. His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, an explosion of longing and need.

Clothing becomes an unnecessary barrier as he undresses you with gentle urgency. After freeing your breasts from the night shirt you were wearing, he gently kisses around your nipple before taking it into his mouth.

You arch your back, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath. The sensation is exquisite. Gale's hands continue to explore every inch of your body, leaving you panting with need.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper.

Gale's eyes lock onto yours, the desire within them burning hotter than any flame. He leans down, his lips finding yours once more. This kiss is more intense, more desperate than any you've shared before.

His hands continue to roam over your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your hips, the dip of your waist. You feel yourself melting into him, your body responding to his touch with a yearning that threatens to consume you both.

As he presses you into the mattress, he lowers his head, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. You can't help but moan, your body trembling with pleasure.

His fingers trail along your inner thigh, the anticipation building with every stroke. You let out a soft whimper, your body begging for more.

Finally, he reaches the apex of your desire, his fingers lightly caressing your most sensitive spot. You cry out, your hips bucking against his hand in a desperate attempt to find release.

Gale smiles, his eyes filled with lust. "You're mine, always." he growls, his voice low.

And with that promise, he slides two fingers inside you. You gasp as your body adjusts to the overwhelming invasion. Your hand grips his forearm, nails digging into his flash as he begins to pump his digits into you.

Your body trembles, and your mind is hazy with desire. You can feel him watching you, his gaze makes your heart race even faster.

His fingers continue pushing deeper, stretching you wide as he adds a third.

"Please," you whimper. "Please, I need more."

Gale responds by replacing his fingers with his mouth, his tongue lapping at the delicate folds of your core. The need for release consumes you completely. He knows just what to do, just how to make you come undone.

His tongue keeps searching, delving deeper, threatening to pull you into the abyss of ecstasy. Your body is aflame, your heart pounding against your ribs.

"Gale, I swear to you, if you do not take me right this instant, you will become a widower." You pant through your moans.

At the sound of your plea, Gale removes his mouth from your core and positions himself between your legs. "Come now, we can't have that now can we?"

You feel the swollen head of his erection brush against your entrance. As he pushes in, you gasp, your body stretching to accommodate him. You feel his warmth enveloping you, and you can't help but whimper at the sensation.

He begins to move, his hips swaying in a rhythm that matches the pounding of your heart. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and your nails digging into his back.

He pulls almost all the way out, leaving only the head of his erection inside you, and then thrusts in deep once more. Your eyes meet, and he leans down, his lips brushing against yours as he continues to move inside you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and the sensation becomes exhilarating. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building with every thrust.

"I need you to tell me where to come." He says, his voice hoarse with desire.

Moaning loudly, you respond "Please, Inside me. Come inside me."

"You want me to fill you?" He grunts, as he thrusts in you. "Want to feel my seed spill inside of you." 

"Yes! Gale, fuck yes!" You scream.

His eyes glint with hunger, and he obliges, increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts. You gasp, your head thrown back in pleasure as he continues to fuck you relentlessly.

"So fucking tight," he growls in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to make me come"

You reach up, your nails raking across his back, and grimace as you feel his hand cup one of your breasts. His fingers toy with your sensitive nipple, his thumb brushing against it in circles that send shivers down your spine.

Body screaming for release, you know it's close. You arch your back and beg him to keep going. With each thrust you feel his hips hitting against your clit. Your walls begin to clench around him, and you feel yourself tightening, ready to release.

Just when you think you can't take any more, Gale groans and thrusts deeper, harder, driving you over the edge. With a loud cry, you explode around him. Body shaking with pleasure.

His own seed begins to spill into you, filling you completely. As you continue to pant, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Gale's thrusts slow and then stop.

He collapses onto you, his weight heavy but comforting, as his heart beats wildly against your chest in sync with yours. 

You both lie there, spent and breathless, your bodies melded together as one. The sweat from the exertion mingles with the remnants of your passion, leaving your skin glistening in the dim light of the room.

Gently, Gale lifts himself off you, his gaze never leaving yours. He kisses you tenderly, his lips soft and warm against yours, and you can taste the remnants of your lovemaking on his tongue.

As he pulls away, he looks down at your now-swollen lips, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "That was incredible," he whispers, "You are incredible."

"As are you." You say, gently caressing his face.

Gale pulls up the covers and wraps you in his arms, his body still warm from the passion that just ensued. As he holds you close, your bodies still panting heavily from the exertion, you can help but marvel at the connection you share.

You close your eyes, feeling Gale's heartbeat against your cheek. "I love you more than anything,"

Gale responds with a sigh, "And I, you."

The words linger in the air as you both drift off, your bodies still entwined, and the promise of more passion to come.

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[cravetive]

𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 𝕆𝔽 𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 | ℂℍ. 𝟙𝟘

| 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫.

|𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞/𝐚𝐮: 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬,𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭,𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮, 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.

| 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

| 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k

| 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 ( 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬), 𝐬𝐞𝐱 ( 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬 & 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

| 𝐀/���: 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐦 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧.

previous chapters

-

“Will the Jury foreperson please stand?” 

The judge’s voice is a mesh of muffles and white noise in Jin’s ears - his mind absent from the courtroom as his client faces his sentencing. Everything seems to move in slow motion around him, the whispers of his client asking anxious questions, only further inducing the headache that presses harshly against his temples.

Jin hasn’t slept in days, each morning blending in with the night, an endless cycle that leaves him spent. he wishes he can say it’s due to this case or any of the other 9 he’s currently handling for that matter but that’s not what has been leaving him wide eyed in his bed at ungodly hours of the night, in fact they haven’t even played a factor. 

Today he finds himself representing yet another vile criminal, charged with a crime that has shaken society to its core - the trial televised for the entire world to see. His eyes scurry away from the camera that stands right in front of him, antonizing a certain anxiousness that Jin has never felt in a courtroom before. The stakes are stacked high, his reputation on the line and yet, he can’t bring himself to focus - his heed placed elsewhere. 

From the untouched glass of water that sits before him he can see his distorted reflection, the plum hue under his eyes further demonstrating the stress his body is undergoing - his compressed chest unable to feel relief no matter how much he tries to breathe. 

would his client feel reassured of his fate if he knew that it wasn’t one of the best lawyers sitting besides him now but instead a ghost?

Jin’s mind wanders through the walls, his eyes scanning the nearest exit and for an instance he feels as though this is his own trial, one in which no one would come to save him - all evidence pointing to his guilty conscience all while the cameras capture every uneasy breath he struggles to take.

As his stare travels back to the Judge - he notes her disapproving expression, it is the look of someone who knows what he has done, oblivious to the fact that Jin is already inside a prison, his own morality caging him inside of a cell that has no key. 

He has condemned himself to feelings he can’t control, all because he wanted to be a better man - He’s unable to balance his integrity on the scale of good and bad. his inner darkest fears shaken by the mere phone call of someone he owes his life to, someone he has pledged loyalty to. 

The sound of Jungkook’s voice still rings inside his ears, a nauseating reminder of Jin’s betrayal. 

When you came to him asking for help he had already foreseen how things would play out, you had unknowingly put him against a wall, a sword pressed to his chest and all he could do was stretch out his hand and aid you in bringing down one of his closest friends. 

For the first time he had a choice to stray away from the life of depravity he had chosen, to clear his conscience of all the bad he had done along his career. You were the first person he had ever helped who he truly felt was innocent, how could he say no while he saw the despair in your eyes? 

So, he decided to defend you without a single beat of hesitation, forgetting his loyalty belonged to someone else.

That late night conversation with Jungkook  had left him burdened, bringing out a certain paranoia that perhaps remained dormant inside of him, lured into slumber with each day he met you in that coffee shop where he would convince himself he was being virtous and although, the phone call was short and vague, he had engraved Jungkook’s impatient tone inside his head. 

Jin didn’t need clues to conclude what his friend was after, he didn’t need to ask what it was Jungkook needed from him to repay his debt, Jin already knew. Jungkook’s rampage in search of you being all the city could speak of, the destruction he left in his wake landing on Jin’s radar like the morning news. 

He never meant to get involved, in fact he had preferred to stay oblivious. How could he choose? you his dearest friend, someone he looked to protect and aid - and then him ... .his childhood friend, the one he always seemed to end up picking up the broken pieces for, no matter how much his hands bled. 

Both sides tug at his fealty. 

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” 

Whilst his client trembles in his chair, Jin feels the pressure of his phone that is kept turned off inside his pocket - the thought of receiving yet another call from Jungkook, beginning to torment him in ways his pride will never allow him to divulge. 

“Yes” 

He needs to focus, this is important but his mind drifts, searching for ways in which he can justify his decisions - trying to find a way out of the predicament he has placed himself in, in a way only a man like him can. 

“We the jury find the defendant not guilty on all counts of murder and assault.”

A hefty sigh leaves Jin’s mouth, his hands clamping together underneath the table as his eyes flutter shut - he had hoped that this relief that washes over him now would be enough to clear his mind of the thoughts that burdened him but reality is, nothing can. He feels his client grip his arm and pull him into a hug - his cheers filling the ears of the abstracted man. 

At another time Jin would’ve probably celebrated too, after all was this not a demonstration of his capabilities? Yet, he can’t bring himself to cheer, to celebrate nor to feel triumph. Jin is used to walking out of courtrooms a victorious man but now he is rather conflicted and as he pushes away from the strong embrace his client offers him, he finds his eyes trailing back to the victims family - offering them a silent apology, one that he never tends to offer. 

Something has changed inside of him - a shift he can’t understand. Previously, Jin had never bothered to care if his clients were guilty or not, if he was a bad man for even protecting them, perhaps because his clients were only reflections of someone he knew, someone who he has been great at defending. 

But Now he feels just as culpable as the man standing next to him, the one who has stabbed his wife to death. 

In the past he would’ve defended Jungkook above everything else and walked past a victim like you, a victorious man. 

Something has changed. 

“The verdict is sustained, The jury is thanked and excused. Court is adjourned.” 

The Judge slams her gabble and soon the murmuring and heavy whimpers of the victims family fill Jin’s ears, eating away at his vulnerability.  The sound of their agony causes his heart to rumble - the sensation becoming too much to withstand. 

His own shame begging to beat him down. 

His vision is blurred, unable to concentrate on anything as he stands there motionless

- his intestines turning as he finds the eyes of the man whom he has just freed. Jin has fought like hell to prove without a reasonable doubt that this man has not committed the crime he has been accused of, even if within himself he harbors the truth that only the 2 of them know.

The worst part of it all is that Jin knows he will be back here - perhaps with someone much worse than the man that he has just defended and he can’t help but question if the real reason why he fights so hard in the first place is to prove he himself isn’t like them. 

“Thank you Mr. Kim '' his client exclaims with excitement whilst he interlocks his hand with Jin’s in a firm shake. Jin’s stare remains withdrawn - his mouth unable to open and form any words and as he glances down at their knotted hands he pictures blood dripping from them. 

His body runs cold, his hand retracting quickly while his blinking eyes inspect the skin there. 

He’s losing it.

“How will I ever repay you?” Jin’s eyes snap back to stare at his client, the room beginning to spin around him and he tries to smile, to at least pretend like he shares this man’s joy but he can’t move a muscle and as he goes to speak he hopes his tone wont give away the immediate regret that has settled inside of him. 

“I just hope you’ll never need me again.”

But they always do and Jin is more than positive he will reoffend - he will take another life, he will leave another bloody trail and Jin prays to any god that will listen that when that day comes the DA will have enough evidence to put him away. 

His client responds with a mocking laugh, his chest heaving at the joke Jin has just made but Jin means it with every morsel of his being, his role as the devil's advocate beginning to eat away at his soul. 

Jin can feel all eyes on him as he begins to step out of the courtroom, lowering his head as the cameras flash in his direction - the victory he should be indulging in, feels more like a loss, the way in which he has let his  previous wins feed his ego is starting to disgust him. His steps are no longer confident and he fights with the urge to turn around and request the judge to reconsider, he wants nothing more than to beg her to give his client the full weight of the law.

Even if he has to drop to his knees for it. 

As he steps out into the empty hall his eager hands reach into his pocket, sliding his phone out and staring at the screen until it turns back to life, his weary eyes scanning the notifications that flood in but he can only see emails from his firm and texts from a girl he met at a bar a few nights ago when he found himself sleepless again

 none of them from the man who has taken his appetite away. 

He sighs, standing completely still and then the hallway that once had been completely quiet fills with reporters - greedy cameras and microphones waiting for his client to exit the courtroom and all Jin hopes for is for him not to say anything stupid. 

For him not to leave another mess for Jin to clean up. 

He holds his breath, deciding to take the nearest exit in his wishful attempt to avoid the eye of the media. This time he feels no desire to stand beside his client as he throws out thank you’s and excuses, he can’t digest the idea of reporters asking him questions regarding his morality - of why he chooses to defend the people he does or if he thinks they are guilty. 

9 times out of 10 they most likely are. 

The cold air ripples through Jin’s suit as he makes a quick exit of the courthouse, his eyes focused on the sun which sets between the tall buildings ahead of him, the city roaring with life. He can hear laughter, traffic, and random conversations from those who pass by. the sounds - the normalcy in everything and he has almost forgotten that time hasn’t stopped, no matter how stagnant he feels. 

 though, the distraction does not last long as he feels a faint buzz against his chest and he’s swiftly reeled back into his reality - his breaths becoming labored, his eyes darting in every direction. Once he again finds himself succumbing to paranoia. 

Jin’s shaky hands slide the phone from the front pocket of his suit and he stares at the unknown number flashing through the screen for a moment - every nerve in his body standing at attention, the lethargy that had clung to his body dissipating into thin air. 

For a second he contemplates if he should answer, he wonders if he’s prepared to hear Jungkook’s voice again but even if he isn’t what other option does he have, avoiding the issue would only cause it to grow. 

He quickly answers the call and presses the phone to his ear, frantic eyes focusing on the lively city in front of him, attempting to find a random object he can anchor himself to. 

“Hello” he answers coldly-  trying to conceal the utter worry in his tone. 

“Jin” the voice is soft, delicate even and it takes him back to when he was just a college student, sitting across the dining table with a math book in hand, a red pen in the other. 

“Y/n” he breathes out, eyes blinking quickly while he registers it’s you on the other line.

“You sound disappointed” you giggle and Jin smiles for a moment, though it does not last. 

You are but a reminder of the secret he conceals. 

“Uh” Jin chuckles dryly “quite the opposite actually.” 

Jin expects to feel at ease, after all you are someone dear to him but he can’t push away the guilt that creeps inside of him while he hears your giggles flow through the line. 

In that moment he doesn’t know which voice he would have preferred to hear, yours is supposed to be a breath of fresh air, a cup of cold water to tame the turmoil inside of him. to know you were okay , to know you were safe, to recognize no panic in your voice should be alleviating but the feeling never arrives. 

Do you even know who he is? Who he has betrayed for you? Would you still consider him a friend if you were to find out?

“Are you okay?”  He asks, a question he isn’t fully prepared to make nor one that he has been ready to hear the answer to. 

There's a long pause, a pause that Jin doesn’t particularly like. It causes his chest to compress, for his palms to grow cold. 

“Yes, im safe.” 

It’s not the answer to the question he has asked but he takes it, because if you are safe it means you are okay, right?

Jin hadn’t spoken to you since your swift escape from the Jeon’s banquet and though he had been worried sick for some time, Jungkook had arrived in almost comical timing to strip away his concern for you, replacing it with the sour reminder of the debt he owed. 

He wants to pretend that hearing from you is a good thing but your voice, although quiet and careful, stabs away at his heart harshly. So he fakes a heavy sigh, feigning a relief that isn’t there.  

“Well, I'm glad,” Jin mutters. 

“Are you okay?”

Jin can’t bring himself to answer that, his mouth pressing together and his jaw cramping. His eyes stare into nothingness as his brain tries to compile a good enough answer, an answer worthy enough to bring you some kind of ease. 

Jin begins walking towards his car, briefcase held tightly in his hand as the loud sounds of the city begin to drown out his inner thoughts again. He should be okay, He has just won another case, another accomplishment to add to his resume and he contemplates if he should share this with you, but  he fears you’re going to read through his tone, peeling away at his facade.  

Nothing can hide the anxiousness that sprouts inside of him, sprawling and taking up spaces where his tranquility once remained.

“Yeah, i've been fine” he responds quietly, offering you a lie - hoping that you will take it. 

A heavy sigh falls from your mouth and Jin inhales sharply, while he gives you a breath of air - he pulls himself deeper into despair. 

“Good” you whisper, your vocal cords burning after having held your breath. 

Jin blinks quickly trying to moisten his tired and scratchy eyes as if you could see him through the phone. his hand subconsciously moving to straighten his tie and suit jacket, perfecting his deception.  

“I saw you on the news giving that press conference on the case” you comment, a smile emerging on your face, one that Jin can picture in his mind. 

“Mhm” Jin hums, caught off guard by the topic. 

“You looked very professional, very mister lawyer” your voice holds childish excitement and Jin smiles again, closing his eyes and beginning to imagine a life where he is but a typical lawyer and you his friend, a girl who hasn’t gone through the things that you have. A Y/n that has remained the same cheerful and spoiled girl that he once knew so well, never having been pushed into a life of crime and deception, much like he has.  

His Y/n, his friend that he will never betray. 

“Oh yeah? I wore my good tie today” he jokes, beginning to descend the steps in front of the courthouse. 

“How did it go? Did you free the guy?” you inquire and Jin remains silent, his chest becoming heavier with the question. 

“Give me details, i want to know how you kicked ass today” the harmony of your laughter causes him further shame, There is so much you don’t know and no amount of bravery can convenience Jin to tell you.

“Well you know me i can’t lose” Jin sighs and his line fills with your laughter again. 

“It’s a good thing I have you on my side then.” 

Those words cause Jin’s heart to stop full throttle, the hand that presses the phone to his ear growing limp. It takes everything for him not to divulge the truth, to not break your heart further. If he’s honest it's not clear to him whose side he stands in, who is he truly helping? For someone as calculated as him, that question still remains unanswered. 

His god complex has led him to believe there is a way he can help the both of you without betraying the other but atlas, as he hears your voice for the first time in weeks he concludes he has been foolish. 

Dread fills him up, his body unresponsive and he feels as though the phone call has lasted an eternity, your innocent statement only further torturing him. His intentions were always to protect you like an older brother would, trying to conceal you from the man he had built a bond with so many years ago, but who is he kidding, who is he lying to?

To you or to himself.

“You should come to visit me, it gets lonely here - I thought I would be able to escape it but it appears it has followed me here too.”

Your voice is but a whisper yet Jin can hear the strain in it, can almost picture you swallowing back tears that you have not allowed yourself to release in a long time. 

“We can meet at the cafe” he interjects, purposely avoiding your offer. 

“Oh don’t be silly, I trust you.” 

His heart lurches forward and he rips the phone from his ear for a moment, unable to endure the conversation any longer, you are oblivious to the pain you are causing him, to the agony he is putting himself through the longer he stays on the call with you. 

“Y/n i think -” he speaks into the line. 

“86 Pyeongchang- dong, Jongno-gu-” 

Jin shuts his eyes as the address falls from your lips, a grimace pouring over his features and he wishes you hadn’t said that, he prays he can forget. 

“So what do you say?” your voice echoes.

 Jin clears his throat, trying to break himself out of the panicked trance he is currently in, his throat aches as he tries to find an excuse good enough for you not to suspect him, because what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t go?  What kind of friend would he be if he did?

His mouth opens to give you a gentle rejection, his eyes roaming the front of the courthouse whilst he trashes his brain for an excuse. “You know i would love to but-” his eyes stop moving and the words he means to say trail into silence, from the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of a black SUV - its owner leaned comfortably against it as a puff of smoke falls from their lips - their eyes completely focused on him. 

Jin can feel every muscle in his body constrict, his skin growing pale - he blinks, hoping that the sight before him is only but a product of his lack of sleep and paranoia  but when his eyes open again, the same man remains. his eyes held in a glare as a mischievous grin rips through the cigarette that lays between his lips and the dread Jin had been trying to suppress for days now comes pummeling down all too fast through his veins. 

“Jin?” you ask, noticing the long pause. 

From where Taehyung stands he watches as Jin stares wide eyed in his direction. He leans away from the SUV, unfolding his arms from his chest, offering Jin a small wave.

“Jin?” you call out again and this time Jin’s eyes trail back to the phone in his hand. 

“I have to go Y/n '' he whispers, there's a change in his tone but you can barely make it out from the shuffling that follows after, your eyebrows furrowing with concern.

you aren’t unfamiliar with Jin's tendency to abruptly say goodbye but this time it’s different, you can sense panic through the silence he gives you - your line now crowded with the sound of the city.

“Wait, Jin what is happening?” you ask frantically and Jin can hear you but he doesn’t answer, his mind wondering if you would be this concerned for him if you knew who he truly was.  

Jin ends the call before he can speak again, sliding his phone into his suit jacket carefully - he clears his throat and adjusts his posture, his hand moving to push back the strands of his hair that have fallen in front of his face. swiftly changing his expression from one of utter fear to casualness, the shift causing him to grow dizzy. 

“Taehyung,” he calls out eagerly through his teeth.

Taehyung studies Jin’s demeanor, his fingers moving to dispose of the cigarette in his mouth before he forces a chuckle out. 

“Jin, long time no see” he responds, the lack of enthusiasm in his voice appareant. 

Jin scoffs and laughs slightly, trying his hardest to conceal the panic that rips through him. 

“It's always a good day when you don't have to see me ” Jin replies and the statement causes Taehyung's smile to slip. In the past Taehyung would’ve taken the insignificant words as banter but given the circumstances, given the strain that has formed between the friendship it sounds more like a threat to him. 

“Is this something that couldn’t wait for office hours?” Jin continues, looking towards the 2 other men who stand beside Taehyung, their hands held by their belt - indication of the gun’s that remain concealed there. 

It's not a friendly visit. 

“I wanted to stop by to congratulate you on the big win” Taehyung states but Jin knows better, they’ve never shown up for any of his other one’s. 

“A bouquet of flowers and a pretty card would have sufficed” Jin says nonchalantly standing in front of them now, the grip on his briefcase growing tighter with each second that passes by,  his body consumed with the urgent need to throw up.

“I was watching you know?” Taehyung smirks “you looked a bit off, a bit nervous.”

Jin’s smile fades, his jaw locking with the reminder of his previous state in the courtroom - the vile memories flood into his head and his casual facade drops for a moment, his eyes flickering with distress. 

“Me? Nervous?” Jin chuckles, attempting to recuperate from the humiliation.

“Im Kim Seok-Jin.” 

“That you are” Taehyung distills poison with his words, his tone simmering with a certain harshness. 

“Jungkook wants to congratulate you too, you should come with us” Taehyung adds, his smirk pulled wide. 

Jin’s heart slams into his chest, his head heavy on his shoulders. He wonders how much Jungkook knows, if he is aware of the role he has played in the chaos his family is currently facing and as his eyes remain on Taehyung's face he can’t read past his meek expression - his talent to perceive things momentarily tested by the exhaustion that sinks in his body. 

He knows Taehyung is not making an offer he can decline, but rather an invitation he has to accept. A pact of loyalty made many years ago imposed by guilty reminders of the person he used to be.

“You guys shouldn’t have gone through the trouble”

Jin laughs sarcastically - stepping closer to Taehyung. 

“Trust me, it's no trouble at all” Taehyung taunts, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head. 

Jin can feel his throat closing in on itself - his eyes lowering to the guns that poke out of the pressed suits the men standing along with them wear, warning him that the friendship he once shared with Jungkook and Taehyung has changed. No longer were they just boys being boys, no longer did they blindly trust each other. 

Now they were men waiting for the moment one crossed the other. 

Jin nods faintly, his eyes looking in every direction ensuring there’s no one around to bear witness to what is happening or perhaps hoping someone is. 

He does not object, instead he willingly steps forward even if he feels his heart racing with each movement he makes - the sensation is uncanny, he should be able to trust the man who stands holding out the door for him but contrary to what he knows he should be feeling, the desire to run for the hills remains. 

Jin can feel the thick, tense air choke him as the car peels away from the courthouse, his heart feeling as though it's stuck inside of his stomach, applying agonizing pressure and though he sits in complete silence, unable to move an inch - he can feel Taehyung eyes intently observing him. 

He wants to say something, anything that will bring them back to like when they were younger - longing to mend what has been fractured but no words come to him and as the seconds pass by in the harrowing car ride alongside someone whom he once shared everything with,  he comes to the inevitable conclusion that he doesn’t want to reconcile. The similarities that once had tied them all together now being differences he can’t bring himself to overlook. Yet, The desire to make amends leaves its residual inside of him. 

Time is cruel and they were not exempt from its vicious wrath. 

It had all begun with a school punishment, one that would lead Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jin to cross paths and become the bestest of friends and while Jungkook and Taehyung enjoyed a life of luxury and gluttony all thanks to the blood money their families were producing, Jin fought against the poverty that ripped through his. Who could blame him for wanting that same life? Not when his friends had allowed him such quick access to it, not when Jungkook paid for his college education under the promise that Jin would some day work for him. 

A promise that Jin had kept for a long time, until he came face to face with the truth of what his friends had become or in retrospect what they had always been.   

Back then Jin never thought of the consequences his actions would someday bring him, back then all he wanted was to be in Jungkook’s and Taehyung's world and now that he was, now that he was who had always dreamed of being - he was forever indebted. 

What could he do now that their interests no longer aligned? The only person that could blame Jin now was himself. 

The SUV arrives at the small restaurant Jin has visited many times before, it is the same restaurant where they have all shared their first drinks, their first heart breaks. Where they shared stories of their childhoods and their dreams. Where Jungkook had served Jin his entire future on a silver platter and the starving boy had eaten from it without a second thought. 

The meal now heavy on his shoulders, the weight of the burden forcing him to kneel before a man he has betrayed. 

As Jin steps out he notices Jungkook’s men standing along every corner of the street, evidence of the havoc he has contributed to in full display. His stare lowers as he stands in front of the restaurant and with a heavy sigh he takes in all that has changed since the last time he was here. memories of their laughter fills his mind and it dissolves his courage, in its place now a feeling of vulnerability he does not like nor is willing to accept. He senses Taehyung’s presence standing besides him and then feels his hand harshly slam on his shoulder, a tight grip coming soon after. 

“Welcome back” Taehyung whispers eerily into his ear. 

Jin is guided inside by the men who have accompanied him, Taehyung following closely behind. He hasn’t seen Jungkook in a long time. he fears he might not be able to recognize him, fears he won't be able to see the boy that he had once defended against the world, the boy who trusted him but due to the lack of contact probably no longer does. 

Not that he would expect him to either. 

He notes the vacancy inside of the restaurant which is usually packed with customers at this time, all the tables empty while music softly plays through the space. It reminds Jin of a museum. While the outside looks like a completely different place, the inside appears to be stuck in the same year the 3 of them had made the pact to always stay together.

 He is soon filled with acrid nostalgia, the same feeling he had felt when he first saw Taehyung standing in front of the courthouse.

As he continues his path he can feel his steps falter and it's like he’s forcing himself to walk, unable to take the guilt that makes a home inside of him the longer he remains in here. He is reminded of who he was, of who he no longer is and it aches, an ache his sleepless body can’t process. 

When Jin reaches the back of the restaurant his eyes land on Jungkook, his lungs drawing a breath he doesn’t dare release as he scans the man who does not notice his arrival. Jungkook sits in one of the many empty tables, his face lowered as he brings another string of noodles to his mouth yet, there’s not a hint of tranquility in his demeanor, his shoulders tensed and eyebrows furrowed. 

It's apparent he is disgruntled, Jin can perceive the strain his body and mind are under from where he stands- the scene before him causing him to grow mortified and his thoughts don't miss a beat as they remind him that this is his doing. 

“Kook” Taehyung speaks, dragging Jungkook’s attention to the men that stand before him, apprehension carved into his expression. 

The breath Jin has been gripping in his lungs escapes through his nostrils as he takes in Jungkook’s face - his skin pale and eyes hollowed and if he thought he was tired, perhaps drained then Jungkook has got him beat. 

“Was any of this necessary?” Jin raises his eyebrows, a smirk forming on his lips - his voice echoes within the empty restaurant and he concludes it is best to push his conflicted thoughts to the side. 

Jin can see the exhaustion in Jungkook's eyes, proof of the many nights he has spent in search for you and Jin struggles to believe that it’s just anger that fuels him but he concludes that there is too much he has missed and although he wants to think that he is staring at a friend, just as he had expected it’s like he is facing a complete stranger.  

Jungkook slowly wipes his mouth and pushes away the plates in front of him, a smirk crawling onto his mouth accompanied with a small laugh. 

“Just a bit of guidance, you know in case you got lost” he chews. 

“How polite of you” Jin retorts sarcastically. 

In spite of the fact they both attempt to conceal the animocity, the distance between the two friends is evident. Their bond strained, the thread that once held them together a pull away from snapping and they can both sense it as their eyes met.

“Take a seat” Jungkook offers, gesturing to the empty chair in front of him. 

“Im fine here” Jin responds, eyes glancing over at the men who stand on each side of Jungkook, holding the same threatening posture as the ones who had shown up with  Taehyung moments before. 

“Jin” Jungkook snaps, his patience withering away with each minute that passes.

“Sit.”

This time his voice is stern, demanding and it rattles Jin’s composure. 

Jungkook’s glare holds irritation; his fruitless vendor slowly drives him further away from rationality. The utter desperation that runs through his body makes him grow a little bit more insolent as time ticks by.  

Jin pulls out the chair in front of him and slowly sits in it- concern written all over his expression as he stares Jungkook down. 

“How have you been Jungkook?” Jin asks, the worry in his tone genuine.

“ I'm pretty you know the answer to that” Jungkook retorts, pouring himself another cup of whiskey. 

Jin’s eyes trail from Jungkook to the amber liquid that falls into the glass, a grimace emerging on his expression while he watches the alcohol hit the rim. 

“Well now you have me here, what is it that you need?” Jin clears his throat, he knows it's a stupid question to ask, he has already made his own assumptions of what this is all about but he opts to feign ignorance. 

Jungkook raises the overflowing glass to his lips, the taste causing him to hiss but he takes another gulp and then another until his tongue grows numb and his chest aches - the glass now half empty. 

“Oh i'm sorry, am i taking up your time Mr. Lawyer?” Jungkook leans his head to the side, a crazed look in his eyes “are you too busy for me? All those big cases, all those big wins” Jungkook's words drag with venom - dispersing into the hostile air and trickling  down Jin’s skin. 

“All thanks to me of course” he concludes and Jin lowers his head, a small chuckle emitting from his lips. 

“Is that why I'm here then? You thought I needed a reminder?” Jin comments. 

“It seemed like you had forgotten” Jungkook snaps. 

But Jin hasn’t, The thought that he has everything he has because of a criminal is rather ironic given his line of work, an irony that has enabled him to defend the most evil kind of men, something he has never been able to remove from the back of his head, the only thing that keeps him from believing he is a good person.  

“You have been holding onto that one for a while haven’t you” Jin smirks, a hint of repulsion in his tone. 

“Trust me i don't forget, i have to live with that decision for the rest of my life” Jin adds bitterly and Jungkook’s expression twists with certain chagrin. 

Jungkook sighs and leans his head back, placing the glass in his hand carefully on the table. He presses his lips together with distaste, his eyes closing for a moment while he allows Jin’s words to settle in his brain. 

Jungkook knows how much his decisions have brought them apart, it hurts him to know that now Jin can no longer see him as a friend and though the remorse remains packed up inside of him, there are no words significant enough that can express it. 

Yet, they both know he had no other choice. He couldn’t dream like Jin could - couldn’t choose a career apart from the one forced on him the day his parents were killed but he doesn’t dare open his mouth to defend himself this time, allowing their friendship to fall victim to collateral damage. 

“I need to know where Y/n is, Jin.”

Everything becomes muffled for Jin once again and those emotions that had left him trapped within his own mind in the courtroom come back crashing down all too fast, his throat compressing, which he tries to remedy with a gulp. 

He has known the motive for this meeting since that phone call and yet, nothing has prepared him for the statement Jungkook makes, his stare faltering at what this implicates. 

Jin can’t bring himself to speak and when he finally dissects Jungkook’s demeanor he confirms what he has feared all along, Jungkook knows something and though, he might not know the entire extent of his betrayal, the fact that Jungkook believes he can come to him for information is sufficient for his heart to swell with dread. 

“Why-” the word comes out a mumble, quieter than a mouse, his mouth filled with cotton as he tries to make sense of what he wants to say or better yet how he will excuse the accusation Jungkook has silently made but his mind is as blank as his stare.  

Jungkook watches Jin’s expression with careful eyes and though he is tired and his eyes feel heavy as he blinks, he inspects Jin with precision. ready to pick up on any hint  of deceit. 

“Have you forgotten who placed you in her life? Or did you convince yourself it was pure coincidence?” Jungkook states “i made you apply to be her tutor, i fabricated recommendations, i made sure that you appeared to be the best fucking tutor there was in fucking korea so that you could keep tabs on her, to ensure that she was living a good life in spite of her fathers endevors.” 

Jin lowers his stare, the reminder seeping cruelly inside of him - the fact that he has been lying to you for years revealing itself through Jungkook’s mouth, he has been unable and unwilling to divulge the truth about what his real intentions were when he appeared in your home under the guise of a tutor, of a mentor. 

It had been all a lie.

But He had miscalculated how much you would eventually mean to him, how much he would come to want to protect you even from the man he was most loyal to. 

He gained your trust, your friendship all so that Jungkook could monitor you and though initially it had been an orchestrated lie, everything else after that has been real. 

Jin glances away, his eyes filling with tears. His heart fills with disappointment, with inexpicable pain as his eyes flicker back to Jungkook. 

“So Imagine my surprise when i find that you have been meeting her for years” Jungkook spits, his hand sliding a manila folder in front of Jin, his intense glare on Jin as he waits for him to open it. 

“Jungkook '' Jin utters, his eyes fixed on the folder lying in front of it. 

“Go on” Jungkook demands, his voice jumping from the walls. 

Jin sighs heavily, his reluctant hand reaching for the folder. His mind rushing with ideas of what the folder can contain. 

 His hand trembles against the paper as he throws it open. In Front of him now an array of pictures taken of you and him entering and leaving the small cafe on different occasions and he swears in that moment his heart stops beating. 

“Have you been the one that has been putting things in her head? Did you not measure how dangerous this all could be for her?” Jungkook barks. 

Jin’s ears ring with the questions thrown in his direction - his hand closing the folder quickly before he pushes it away. He raises his stare back to Jungkook, who hasn’t stopped glaring in his direction. 

“You had me followed?” Jin asks. 

“Are you surprised?” Jungkook retorts. 

“You are insane” Jin scoffs “you have really lost it this time Jungkook - you go around the city destroying everything in your path, go to Yoongi’s club like a fucking manic for what? On a whim that he would know where she is?”

“I'm going to stop you right there Jin,” Jungkook interjects, standing from his chair. 

“I would burn this entire city to the ground if it means I get to find her.” 

When Jin stares into Jungkook’s eyes he can see the utter determination ripping through his exhaustion. 

“I don't know where Y/n is” Jin responds coldly. 

Jungkook smirks, his eyes glazing with darkness - his patience withering dangerously thin. 

“Please dont take my generosity as weakness Kim Seok-Jin, you will tell me where Y/n is even if i have to torture it out of you” Jungkook regrets those words only after they have been said, his mind flooding with hesitation - the feeling only increasing as he notices the fear he has instilled in Jin. 

It pains him to know he has been pushed to this point - his own desperation luring him to see the cause of their strained friendship in Jin’s eyes. 

“She is my friend, i would never betray her, if you had been different to her, if you had shown her how much you cared about her then perhaps -” Jin speaks and though the words are meant for Jungkook, it’s like he is trying to convince himself that he wouldn’t betray you once again. 

“How much will she consider you a friend when she finds out the truth?” Jungkook asks and Jin can’t answer - he knows Jungkook is right but it doesn’t make the idea of him giving you away any easier. 

“When she finds out the real reason you walked into her life? When she knows that you have been my friend for years, covering and cleaning up behind me?” 

Jin’s mind is flooded with the memories of all your meetings - of how much he had retracted from the information he had given you in hopes he could conceal the role he had played in the desolate life you had been living. 

Jungkook’s dad wasn’t the one that kept his criminal record clean, he was. 

And Taehyung’s accident, He was the one who paid that family off. 

And all the other countless messes he had made go away, all because they were his friends. 

“Why are you so keen on finding her? Haven’t you done enough” Jin asks, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion. He had never seen Jungkook so desperate, if he truly wanted revenge against you he knew Jungkook to be the type of man to wait out that kind of retribution, why was he so relentless, it didn't make sense. 

Jungkook lowers his gaze - the clock ticking inside of his head leaving echoes in each empty space that is not taken by the thought of you. 

“I have no intentions to hurt her Jin” Jin picks up on the dejection in Jungkook's tone, his stare faltering “not anymore but my father on the other hand, he needs someone to blame - for someone to punish and i need to find her before he can.” 

Jin disassociates from the room- a culmination of feelings rampaging through his body and he doesn’t know if Jungkook's words are true, his own lack of sleep and the complexity of the situation leaving him stunt. 

will he really protect you in the way he says he will? Or is this another plan?

Another method to get you back in their hands. 

Was this for your own good? 

“Jin” Jungkook exhales. 

The answer Jungkook needs sits on the tip of Jin’s tongue - uncertainty keeping his mouth shut. He can feel his heart drumming rapidly, the sound leaving him deaf. Would this really count as a betrayal? If he was only doing what he thought was best for you?

“Jin” Jungkook repeats, a sense of urgency in his tone. 

“Give me-” Jin sighs, tears building on the edge of his eyes. He stares at Jungkook while his chin trembles, his eyes speaking words he can’t bring himself to say. 

“86 Pyeongchang- dong, Jongno-gu” Jin whispers.

In that moment Jin comes face to face with the inexorable truth, that no matter how much he fights, no matter how much he changes, no matter who he defends….he is just like them. 

-

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦.

𝐢 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐬. 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐩

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤/𝐝𝐦 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

@ane102,@thisartemisnevermisses,@jamlessstars,@cookysstuff,@gyeomibearr,@multiasf ,@lydinews,@vminkookgf,@chl0buggy, @peterstarkchrishiddleston , @koostrawberry , @jcrl99 , @coree730 , @melodiesforari , @taemond-in-the-ruff , @whoa-jo @jksusawife , @hoseoksluv89 , @piecesofapril11 , @coralmusicblaze , @junecat18 , @amiradumas , @mageprincess7 , @heartjiminie , @parkinglot-nights , @douknowbts , @str4gguk , @sarzkh31, @jjk970971 , @xwniazx, @jalexad, @hubbytaehyung, @wobblewobble822, @llallaaa, @gojosatoruhere, @defnotxara , @somehowukook , @jk-190811 , @googie-jeon , @melodiesforari , @harmonic55 , @kooliv, @heartwith0uthe, @somehowukook , @coldcoffee2121 , @anle102001, @whoa-jo , @yunoyeol

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Safest with You (Ch. 20 - The Way to Get Over Someone, Part 1)

8.6K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Five months pass as you and Din try to forget one another.

Warnings: 18+ Content to be safe (MDNI please). Angst! (like a lot) Yearning, pining, mourning. People are hard on themselves in this one, folks. Nicknames (Din still thinks of you as Pretty Bird even though you're no longer his Pretty Bird; you're still Lil' Lady to Paz). And there is mild violence (of the Rory variety).

A/N: Thank you to everyone for being so patient with me! It's been a month since Ch. 19 and I guess this word count reflects that 😅😂 It could have been a little shorter but this ask convinced me to include the final scene instead of leaving it for the next chapter 🫣🤷🏻‍♀️ For that final scene, please imagine the suit/look from the Variety Hollywood issue shoot. The vibes of this and the next chapter is this scene in Twilight New Moon (cue 🎶it's a possibilityyyyyy🎶):

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

The week following that night at Din’s, you’re a shell of a person.  You cry for entire days but not much else - going on auto pilot taking care of Al but not yourself.  You don’t go to brunch that weekend, saying you feel disgusting, which honestly isn’t too far from the truth.  You’ve never been cheated on so you hardly know what it is you feel, only that an unyielding and tempestuous monsoon of emotions swirls inside you at all hours of the day.  You oscillate wildly between barely restrained hysteria, self-effacing shame, and sadness in an endless cycle.

To only your dog, you sometimes burst out half crying, half laughing at the absurdity of what you stumbled upon at Din’s apartment – how was it even possible?  Din, who you had loved with your whole heart, had pledged himself to you as you had him.  He had been your match in every way, and it was a tenant of his devotion that he only ever wanted to take care of you, make your life better.  How could the same man, without any warning, betray you in such an unfeeling and vulgar manner?  It simply could not be possible - it had to have been some type of cruel joke, you sob to Al. 

Then in an instant, you’ll turn your ire unto yourself: How could you have allowed this to happen?  Because it certainly did.  You stupidly let yourself be so blinded by love and desire that you didn’t see Din for what he was.  He wasn’t some honourable and noble protector; he was just some asshole who did and said what he needed to get his dick wet – and like an idiot you had fallen for it.  You were supposed to smarter than that, but it turns out you were just susceptible to a handsome face and a fat cock as anyone else.  The Din you had fallen for had been a total fabrication, and the dumbest part is that you had let him lie to you: you had blindly accepted that there were things in his life that he could never be fully honest with you about - that there were things that he just had to keep secret from you for your “own protection.”  You had accepted dishonesty as part of your so-called relationship right off the bat, it was no wonder that none of it had been real.  Stupid, stupid. 

Though you know now that it had all been lie, you still have moments, usually in the dead of night when sleepiness strips you of your ability to reason and overthink, where you simply just mourn.  Mourn the loss of what you had thought, no - felt in the very depth of your heart was a true, deep love.  It didn’t matter that it had all been an invention of your mind – the love you felt had been genuine for you, and you had cherished and held it dear.  The tears you shed during these periods of grieving are for the loss of your own false happiness and for the man that you had believed it.  It didn’t matter that they were never real to begin with, you had lost them all the same.

Your fog extends into the work week and you do something you haven’t done in ages: you take it off citing illness – you sleep, cry and try not to think of the crushing backlog you’ll face when you eventually return to work.  Near the end of the week, you make a phone call that you’ve been dreading but know is necessary.  Lala comes over the same day on her lunch hour – she thought you were just sick, having taken your excuse for missing the last brunch at face value, but when you burst into tears upon seeing her, she immediately knows that something is terribly, terribly wrong.

Taking you straight to her clinic, she slots you in with a fellow nurse right away so you can get what you’ve been dreading over with.  During the self-blame episodes of your emotion spiral, the weight of Din’s cheating and its possible consequences aside from the shattering of your heart have started to press down on you.  You definitely don’t need one more anxiety to occupy your thoughts, and this particular problem you could do something about.  You need to do something and accordingly you find yourself sitting in the clean but impersonal examination room answering the very kind nurse’s survey questions to determine what tests you need.

“Is there any particular reason you need a screening or is this routine?”

“My boyfriend cheated on me,” you say this flat, factually.

“Oh.  I’m sorry.   How long was your relationship?” her response is similarly dispassionate.

“Nearly a year.”

“During that time, how many sexual partners did you have?”

“Just the one.”

“Had you been tested prior to engaging in sexual activities with your partner?”

“Yes, all clean.”

“Was you partner tested?”

“He said he was clean.”  You can only answer what Din told you, with no confidence in whether or not it was the truth.

“Do you know how many other partners your partner had while you were together?”

“… no.”  Tears start to line your lower lash line.

“How long was he engaging in sexual activities with other partners?”

“… I really don’t know.”  Oh no, oh no, you’re going to cry.  Because you really don’t know any of it.  It's awful enough imaging that Din had been messing around with Vanessa the whole time that you and him had been together – if he was capable of that, who’s to say there weren’t others?

“Ok.  To identify the tests you need, I just need to ask about your sexual activities with your partner over the last year.  Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Did you kiss on the mouth?”

“Yes.”

“Did you engage in vaginal fingering?”

“Yes.”

“Anal fingering? Receiving, giving?”

“Yes. No.”

“Did you engage in oral sex? Receiving, giving?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Did you engage in penetrative vaginal sex?”

“Yes.”

“With protection? Or without?”

“Without.”  This is the only question you answer with shame.  Yes, everything had been consensual, but this – the decision to not use condoms was one made based on a mutual trust; a trust you gave openly and willingly to someone who hadn’t deserved it.  You had been careless in this respect – caught up in your feelings and your mistaken instinct that had told you Din was worth trusting.

“Did you engage in penetrative anal se-“

And so on, and so forth.  To the best of your ability, you answer clinically and without feeling, trying not to let the white hot flames of shame and anger simmering in your stomach boil up and over.  You had trusted Din, with your heart yes, but also your body.  One of the things you had loved about Din was how he always seemed to prioritized both your emotional and physical comfort and safety during your sexual activities, but for possibly the entirety of your relationship, he had actually been putting you in danger – taking a risk for you that you hadn’t consent to.  You don’t know how many other partners he was with when he was with you or if he had been safe with them – his cavalier approach to your health makes you sick. 

This feels good. It feels good to be angry instead of sad.

You wait patiently for the nurse to return with the swabs and containers and other equipment you need to self administer the tests.  Silently and alone, you follow the instructions while hot tears cascade over your cheeks.  It had felt good to be angry at Din for a moment, but it took more energy than you had to sustain it; the anger burned out quickly, leaving behind only sadness and embarrassment for having allowed yourself to be put in this position at all.

After leaving the samples where directed, you redress and meet Lala back in the waiting room and she takes you home.  You tell her that it’s okay if she tells the rest of the girls what happened, but you don’t know if you can deal with talking about it just yet and she nods understandingly.  You know your friends will be supportive (and possibly violent), but the strength required to feel your feelings and simultaneously express and explain them out loud doesn’t sound like something you have right now.  Not for the first time, you’re grateful that your friends are unflinchingly kind and understanding of you.

By the time the next Sunday brunch rolls around, your internal reservoir levels for self pity and destructive thoughts have lowered considerably.  You’re mainly just sad for what you thought was and what will never be, wallowing in the loss of what you had imagined would be a happy future with Din.

The girls are not quite that far along in their emotional journeys, but you’re better equipped now to answer their questions and receive their outbursts and reactions.  They all have choice words for Din ranging from lying cheating bastard to dickless waste of DNA.  Threats of violence to his personal (and commercial) property, as well as his physical being are put forth, predictably by Rory and less predictably from Katie.  Bea and Jen focus on drilling into you that you’re in no way at fault and that you hadn’t been wrong or stupid to trust and love Din the way you did.  Lala, being the only one to have seen you when you were in your darkest place, just holds your hand firmly, giving it a reassuring squeeze every so often.  You cry into your eggs and your friends shower you with comfort and support until you feel a little more like a human who is loved again.

One month ATN (After That Night)

Oof - you’re hungry.  It’s been a long morning of straight through meetings with no breaks until only now.  Well past lunch, it’s later than you would usually come, but you hope that your favourite sandwich shop still has some good options left – you’re starving. 

Walking in, the shop isn’t busy (which honestly makes sense as it’s nearing 2:00 pm) and the take away fridge is fairly bare, but with some satisfaction, you see your favourite sandwich sitting all by its lonesome on the top shelf.  Hand already out as you approach the refrigerated display, you reach up on your toes, just to have a big hand dart in ahead of your smaller one and snatch the sandwich out of your reach.

Falling back on the flats of your feat, you’re comically upset – this sandwich was your reward for your overly hectic morning and your disappointment is being further fueled by rising levels of hangry.  Maybe this nice man will offer you back the sandwich if you ask kindly; ready to give this sandwich stealer the sweetest most saccharine smile you can muster, you turn to face him and…

“Paz?”

“Lil’ Lady?”

This could be awkward.  You had loved Paz too.  Part of the great sense of loss you felt when you and Din broke up was from also suddenly losing the friendships you had made through him.  The Mandos, Poe and Lisa, Cass and even Boba had made up what had become a little family to you; the sense of belonging and love you had felt when they welcomed you into their fold and treated you as one of their own was one that you had treasured – their trust in you was not something you took lightly and you had kept their secrets with pride.  You had loved them all as well. 

Of course, like a knife to the heart, you’ve since come to the hurtful realization that those friendships were not as true or deep as you had thought either.  In all likelihood, Din’s friends were probably well aware of his cheating, or at the very least that his feelings for you didn’t run as deep as yours did him.  Though it saddened you, you couldn’t exactly be mad – their loyalty was to Din, not you.  At one time you may have felt some bitterness at this, but right now, seeing Paz for the first time after so long… you feel only happiness at seeing an old friend.

There’s a beat of silence and then it seems you both reach for a hug - it’s quick but warm.

“How have you been?” you ask, simultaneously; chuckling with you, Paz gestures for you to go first.

“Oh,” you don’t really know how to answer; Paz will surely know what transpired between you and Din.  Devastated?  Crushed?  Facing a crisis of self-confidence?  You opt for a watered-down version of the truth, “I’m as good as expected.  Busy at work.”

“Same.  With work, that is,” Paz smiles warmly at you; he’s missed you too.

“You down here for work today?” Suddenly recalling that Din had been downtown for Mando work the first time you met, you try not to let the pain of the memory show on your face.

“Yup.  Work.” Paz won’t tell you that he’s on a security detail, even though its not yours (you're under the careful watch of Koska and Iggy today).

You’re not going to ask about Din.  You’re not going to ask about Din, “How is… everyone?”

Paz assumes you must mean Din but he doesn’t know how to answer your question.  A shell of a man?  A man possessed when it came to the investigation into the threat made against you?  Depressed as all hell?  Paz can only parrot back your earlier response, “Uh, as well as can be expected.  Things have been tense, there’s a lot of stuff going on.”

You obviously don’t ask for details – it’s not your place anymore, and in truth, you feel like it never really was but you try to smile anyways, “Well, you can have the sandwich then.”

Paz looks down at the sandwich he’s still holding in his hand and laughs, “Are you sure?”

Nodding happily, it feels good to joke around with Paz again, “Definitely.  I’m here everyday.  I can have it anytime.”

“Ok, only if you let me buy you your sandwich, Lil' Lady.”

Beaming, you acquiesce, “Deal.”

Grabbing another sandwich from the fridge, you join Paz in line; the two of you standing together in comfortable silence.  You don’t know how it happens but a question that’s been silently buzzing in your mind slips out without permission, “Paz – can I ask you?  Are Din and Vanessa still together?”

You regret it the second the words leave your mouth, tears springing to your eyes.  Looking up at Paz, wide-eyed and embarrassed, you cover your mouth with your hands as if trying to magically stuff the words back in, “Omigod!! Paz!  I’m sorry!  That was... oh gosh... just really, really inappropriate of me.  Please don’t answer.  I never should have asked that.  Seriously.  Don’t answer please.  Besides, I don’t think either answer would make me very happy.”

Paz gives you a warm side hug and a sad look before he says reassuringly, “It’s okay, Lil’ Lady.  Don’t worry about it.”  He insists on buying you a cookie when you get up to the counter and you accept gratefully – you need all the comfort you can get right now.

The two of you say your quiet, but friendly goodbyes on the sidewalk outside of the sandwich shop; each genuinely hoping you’ll see the other again, but knowing that you likely won’t.

---

Paz is hovering.  Din can feel it, but he doesn’t look up from his seat on the ringside bench where he’s checking through an equipment list on his clipboard.

Paz continues to shuffle around until Din sighs and gives in to what his friend so obviously wants; looking up and tilting his head as his way of saying 'What?'

“Saw the Lil' Lady today.”

Immediately, Din’s heart leaps into his throat and his now empty chest constricts painfully; forcing himself to look back down at his paperwork, Din only grunts to acknowledge that he heard Paz.  Clearly Paz has something to say and in all the time they’ve been friends, Din has never been able to get Paz to keep his thoughts to himself, so he just waits.

“Ran into her at a sandwich shop near her office.  She looks good.”

Silence.

“She gave me her sandwich.”

Din closes his eyes, “Was it the egg salad?”

“Yeah.  How did you know?” Paz can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“It’s her favourite,” Din says simply. 

For some reason, this takes all of the wind out of Paz’s sails and he lays a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder.  “She asked how everyone was, but it’s clear she was thinking of you.  Why don’t you call her, brother?”

Even if the whole point of what he had done to you wasn’t so you would stay as far away from him as possible, Din can’t imagine a world where you would want to talk to him, “She hates me.  I fucked up, and I hurt her.  She doesn’t think about me.”

Paz doesn’t want to bring up your question about Vanessa, but he can’t help but think it must mean something that you asked at all, “Maybe she’ll forgive you.”

Din is done with this conversation; he gets up and starts to head towards his office, “I don’t deserve her forgiveness.  I don’t deserve her.”

Two Months ATN

Din never allows himself to see you.  You’re a creature of habit and for the most part, your life after him has reverted to normal; it would be so easy for him to catch a glimpse of you whenever he needed to see for himself that you’re alright.  If he was lucky, he might even catch one of your many soft and sweet expressions that he misses so much and be able to pretend for a moment that it was for him.

But he doesn’t allow it.  Part of it is a means of self punishment – Din chastises himself endlessly for hurting you; he doesn’t deserve to look upon your face, he doesn’t deserve any comfort.  But ultimately, it really comes down to his own lack of self control. 

Din makes the mistake of checking in with your daytime security detail in person only once, a couple of weeks after your breakup.  Din is chatting with Mayfeld through the latter’s rolled down car window, when, as if he senses your very presence, he looks up to see you exiting your office building looking positively elated at being able to leave work at a decent hour (for you) – your quick and graceful steps towards the subway easily hold Din’s gaze through no effort of your own and his body starts to move towards you of his own accord.  He may have very well walked right into oncoming traffic trying to get to you if Miggs didn’t have a firm grip on the back of his shirt.

No, he has absolutely no self control when it came to you.  Every part of Din yearns for every part of you.  Your smile, your laugh, the sweetness of your very being and the steadfast comfort of your company.  He wishes for nothing more than to make you happy again, to be there for you to lighten your load, to make you laugh so hard you snort, the way he used to pride himself on being able to do; what he wouldn’t give to hear you coo sweetly to Al, to swim in the melodic lilt of your voice when you recall a funny story from work or your friends, or to drink in your heady moans and cries while he gave you every pleasure you deserved. 

Din knows that if he allowed himself to be in your presence for even a moment, he would throw himself at your feet and beg for forgiveness.  Plead and grovel until you took him back and then everything, the very reason for all this misery, would be for naught.  He would do anything to see you, hear you, have you again, except risk your safety.  So, he leaves the protocol for your security to others, and he never lets himself go where he knows you might be – he exercises what control he has, so that he never loses control where it counts the most.

But his dreams he cannot control.  And Din dreams of you constantly.

He comes to both look forward to and dread these dreams.  In his dreams you don’t hate him, and they almost always start off with you looking at him like you used to, with love and admiration.  Sometimes the two of you are in a memory, maybe a special date or occasion, or even better, doing something beautifully mundane like walking Al – something the two of you did a million times without thought, just a routine part of the life you had started to build together.  But more often than not, the two of you are in bed.  Sometimes his, sometimes yours, but always just looking, talking, touching.  Din could live in these quiet moments of devotion forever. 

But the dreams never end well.  He discovered that once you left the bed in the dream, you would disappear.  Getting up to find you, Din would find the apartment empty and quiet and no matter where he goes in the dream afterwards, you would be nowhere to be found.  After this happened a few times, he would try to keep you in bed or at the very least, not let you out of Dream Din’s sight, but it never works.  No matter what he does, by the end of the dream you’re not his anymore. 

A horrifying recurrence as of late is that he follows Dream You into your kitchen to find Vanessa sitting at the island while you, crying, start to cook breakfast at the stove for him and her.  He recognizes the look you give him whenever he reaches this part of the dream, it’s the same one you gave him on that last night on his apartment landing – the look of devastation, betrayal, shock.  Your unspoken How could you?  You were supposed to love me above all else, haunts him even after he wakes with a start.  Every time Din has this dream, he relives what he did to you and he feels sick.

Even when it’s not this particular iteration, Din wakes from every nightmare of losing you again sweating and regretting everything.  In these moments, alone in a bed that’s remained cold and uninviting since you last graced it with your soft body, Din tears into himself.  What the fuck was his problem anyways?  He had made his proverbial bed and now he has to lie in it.  What would have been the fucking point of putting you through all this if he was just going to be a weak ass piece of shit and run back to you because it killed him to be apart from you?  Put you through hell and then put you in danger?  No, he can't run from it anymore: this is the price he has to pay for being who he is, for having done the things he had – he doesn't deserve good things.  He doesn't deserve you. 

What he does deserve is this cruelest of ironies: that the only way he's still allowed to love you is to take care of you by keeping you as far away from him as possible.

Four Months ATN

Oy!  Din Djarin!!

Startled by the loud and sharp toned voice that carries over the noise of traffic, Din stops in his tracks; turning towards the sound of the bark, he recognizes your friend Rory barreling towards him.  For a moment, he’s terrified that she might get hit by a car crossing the street to get at him, but the cars somehow seem to understand the determination of her gait and the ferocity in her facial expression and all roll to a stop at her outstretched hand.  You always said that Rory was a force.

Din waits dumbly in the middle of the sidewalk, ready to take the inevitably beating, verbal or otherwise – certain he could not escape her wrath even if he wanted to.  Perhaps he would be tempted to try if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe that he deserves whatever is about to come his way.

As soon as Rory steps up onto the curb, two balled up fists of rage ram right into Din’s chest, the force of which, if he had not been braced for it, might have sent this former boxing champ flying backwards.

You!!! 

An accusatory finger is now poking him incessantly, over and over, pushing right into his sternum.

Din holds his two hands up, as if to surrender, but doesn’t do anything to stop her oncoming assault.  It’s starting to hurt a little, but he knows he deserves it and more.

Liar!

Cheater!

Pathetic!

Asshole.

Garbage human.

Piece of shit.

How you could do that to her?!

She did nothing but love you. 

She’s the sweetest, kindest, most loving person you will ever fucking be with, and this is how you treat her?

You ungrateful worm.

You’ll never find anyone better than her.

You never fucking deserved her, you twat.

Din takes every angry word spat at him with a resigned expression and downcast eyes.  Every word is true and he knows it.  He welcomes this even.  No one has been angry with him, except save himself.  Not Paz, or any of the Mandos, not even Boba.  No one has yelled at him or hurled insults at him, or called him out for the despicable person he is to have hurt you the way he did.  His sweet, pretty bird.  No, not his anymore.  He swallows every single one of Rory’s admonishments willingly and his head might even slightly nod in agreement.

Don’t you have anything to say for yourself, you fucking coward?

Arms dropping to his side in defeat, Din hangs his head and asks the only thing he wants to know, even though he's sure he isn’t allowed, “How is she?”

How is she?! What the fuck do you mean ‘how is she’? How the fuck do you think she is??

“What I mean is… I’m not still hurting her, am I?”

Silence.

“She’s okay now, right?  She hates me, but I don’t matter anymore?  She doesn’t think of me enough to still hurt her?”

Rory stops and evaluates the man standing in front of her.  He looks… broken.  She’s been throwing all her weight into every push, poke, smack she’s laid on Din and he’s taken it all.  Absorbed it along with every harsh word out of her mouth; he hasn’t fought back or even flinched - almost as if he wants her to hit him.  To scream at him.  And now, with the only words he’s spoken, he’s asking to confirm, with what almost sounds like hope, that you’ve forgotten him.  Din’s choice of words strike Rory as odd.  He wants to make sure he’s not “still hurting” you?? 

Suddenly, her mouth drops open as she retracts her hands, “… you didn’t do it.”

Din looks shocked and almost terrified.  He opens and closes his mouth several times but nothing comes out.  No denial or refute of what Rory now realizes has been completely obvious.

“You didn’t cheat on her.  You never cheated on her,” Rory’s tone is softer now, but determined and confident.  She’s leaving no room for argument, not letting Din worm his way out of the truth.

With a sigh, Din has no choice but to confess, “How could I?  Why would I ever want anyone but her?  The most perfect creature to ever exist.”  If he had seemed defeated before, Din is now positively deflating right before Rory’s eyes.

“You love her.”  Again, not a question.

“Always.  Forever.”

“Why w-”

“Rory, please.  You must never tell her.  She has to go on hating me and wanting nothing to do with me,” fear is catching up with Din now.  If Rory tells you the truth, this plan to keep you safe will unravel.

Rory’s eyes widen in disbelief, “You have to be joking.  Do you know what you put her through?  And it’s not even true??”

Quietly, Din asks, “How much has she told you and your friends about what I do?”

“That you own a gym?” Rory crosses her arms and gives Din an incredulous look.

“What else I do.  What my old job was.  Who I worked for.  Who I’m connected with,” he has to be able to make her understand.

Rory lets these words hang in the air for a moment.  No – you were always pretty tight lipped about what Din might be involved in outside of athletics.  It did seem that in the months leading up to your breakup, you would often stress over Din’s work and wellbeing, and though your friends never asked you to expand on it, it wouldn’t make sense for the responsibilities a gym owner to give you that kind of anxiety.

“You got a knife wound once.  Lala told us,” Rory recalls.

Din nods, “And that was nothing.  That’s the least of what the people who might come after me would be capable of.  She’s in danger just by being with me.”

“You wouldn’t protect her?”

“Of course, I would.  With my life.  But why should she be in danger at all?  She didn’t choose this life.”

“She chose you.”

“She shouldn’t have.”        

“You don’t get to decide that for her?!!”

Din knows that.  He shouldn’t have chosen for you.  But he made the decision that he thought would keep you safe and now you both have to live with his mistake, “I know, Rory… I know, but it’s done now.”

“Undo it, asshole.”

Like he hasn’t thought about it a million times.  Like he doesn’t wake up and his first thought when he opens his eyes in the morning isn’t to find you and crawl on his hands and knees and admit that he had fucked up in how he handled everything and beg your forgiveness.  Sometimes Din’s halfway out the door before one of two things stop him.  The first is the very real possibility that you would tell him to go to hell – you had loved him better than anyone ever had, better than he deserved, and he had callously thrown away the greatest gift ever bestowed upon him.  The second, is the very real fear from the threat made against you; Din hasn’t eliminated it and what if, just what if, what he’s doing is actually working and removing you as a worthy target?  Yes, he shouldn’t have gone about things this way, but… what if it was keeping you safe for now?

“Someone threatened her, Rory.”

This stops Rory as she’s about to open her mouth to say something else.  Closing her mouth, she studies Din and her shoulders drop, “Who?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t been able to find out who’s behind it but I will.  Until then, I have to try and make her less of a target.  Please.  Rory.  Please.  Make sure she stays away from me.  You can’t tell her any of this.”

“But… she doesn’t know?”

“No. I don’t want her to be scared.  And she is being protected - all the time, I promise.  But the safest thing for her is to stay the hell away from me.  If whoever wants to hurt me doesn’t think they can do it through her, then she’ll be safe.  Please, Rory.”

Din is begging her now.  His eyes imploring Rory to understand and decide as he once did, that your well being has to come above all, including loyalty and love.  He sees it in her eyes as she relents, much the same way his must have once upon a time, and she nods, “Okay. I won’t tell her.  And you promise she’s safe right now?”

“I promise.  I… wouldn’t be able to live like this if I couldn’t at least do that for her.”  Is it worth it?  Yes, your life, your safety is worth anything and everything to him.

“You think you can get them?  The people behind the threat?”

Din nods, “I’m sure of it.  I’ll make sure of it.  I’ll take care of it.  That’s a promise I won’t break.”

“Okay.  You should tell her afterwards though.”

“Maybe.”

“She deserves the truth, Din,” Rory gives him one last exasperated look.

“She deserves the world, Rory.”

The two of them give one another a silent nod of mutual understanding before parting ways.  They might not see eye to eye on everything, but Din trusts that your friend will put your wellbeing and safety first; she loves you just as much as he does.  Rory leaves Din behind feeling conflicted in a way she hadn’t thought possible when she confronted him earlier – the last thing she expected was to sympathize with him, but it’s become clear to her: the only person who’s been hurting more from your breakup than you, is Din.

Five Months ATN

“I want to go out with Mark.”

Four heads look up from their brunch with lighting speed to stare at you, shocked by your sudden announcement.

Feeling a bit awkward at this reception, you go on, “… I mean if he’s even still available.  And if he’s not, is there someone else at your firm that might be, Jen?”

Jen looks at you curious and hesitantly excited, “I can check, but I don’t think he’s in a relationship?  He broke up with someone a couple of months ago.  You really want me to set you up?”

You don’t catch the looks that Rory and Lala exchange before Rory cautiously asks, “Do you even like Mark?”

“Hey!” Jen looks scandalized.

You’re slightly bewildered watching your two friends seemingly stare daggers at each other, “I don’t even know Mark? I just…” 

You sigh. 

“… I just have to do something.  Try something new.  Babes, it’s been months and… I’m still not over him.”  Your friends know that the “him” in question is not Mark.

It’s been five months and you’re still in a state of melancholy and heartbreak that you can’t quite articulate.  The days where you’d cycle through extreme emotion, be it intense sadness, justifiable anger, or self-pitying shame, have long since passed.  You burned those emotional candles to their proverbial wicks and for the time that they were lit within you, they served their purpose.  You’ve processed those emotions and laid them to rest.

What remains is a type of grief, a longing from your soul that you struggle to contain on a day-to-day basis.

The best way you can think of describing it is Hiraeth – the Welsh word that conveys the feeling of “a longing for a time, place, or person that feels like home but may no longer exist or that never existed at all”; when you miss Din, it feels like a type of homesickness.  And though far from being lonely in your life, your heart nevertheless maintains an empty chamber that you are dearly afraid may be forever reserved for Din.  Your Din.  The one you had loved and thought loved you.

You miss it all - everything that had never been real: the closeness, the intimacy, the safety of Din’s embrace.  You miss the way he looked at you and made you feel like the only person in the world who mattered; you missed his adoring touch and the way that he would be soft and gentle with you when you knew he harnessed such strength and power within those same hands.  He had made you feel cherished and special, appreciated and exalted.  Yes, it had all been a lie, but you heart had believed in it and the memory of what you’ve irretrievably lost haunts you every day still.

You’ve never been one to believe the adage that to get over someone, you had to get “under” someone else and you’re certainly not looking to replace what you thought you had or even date for the sake of dating.  You’re just simply out of ideas.  You need… a distraction.  A real-life person to think about, instead of one that only ever existed in your head.

“Don’t push yourself if you’re not ready, babe,” Lala says, gently.

“I don’t want to ‘get back out there.’ I just need…”

“A rebound?” Rory’s assessment is unfortunately, spot on.

You look sheepish, “That sounds terrible.  But something like a distraction.”

Jen is hardly bothered, “It’s okay.  I won’t tell Mark but I don’t think he would mind even if he knew.  Men are weird as hell.”

Everyone laughs and you go back to your breakfast, half listening as Jen chirps some of Mark’s merits and tells you that she’s going to try and set something up for the upcoming Friday.  You don’t notice the worried and pinched looks that Lala and Rory continue to give one another for the remainder of brunch.

It’s absolutely pouring today.  The phrase ‘raining cats and dogs’ must have been inspired by a similar rainfall, you’re sure.  You hold your umbrella as close to your head as you can while deftly trying to keep your shoes dry by doing little and big hops to avoid puddles.  It’s a relief when you finally make it to the overhang in front of your office building and can shake out your umbrella before stepping inside.  Wiping your feet on the already soaked through mats that building maintenance has put down, you wonder if the weather will clear up before your date with Mark tomorrow.

You’re slipping your still dripping wet umbrella into a plastic sleeve when you hear a commotion by the security check desk.  Gabriel, the head of security is arguing with someone who by the looks of it is soaking wet and trying to get through the security turnstiles.  As you approach with your own access card already in hand, the voices get louder:

“Dude.  Come ON!”

“Miss, like I said, you have to have security access in order to move past this point.”

“I’m not going to go anywhere in the building, I promise!  I just need to get to the subway.”

“I heard you already, miss.  You’ll have to use one of the other two subway entrances.  This one is for people who have access to this building only.”

“It’s pouring!! Can’t you see?  The other two entrances are both over a block away and I’m already soaked!  I just want to get home!”

“I won’t ask again, miss.  Please leave.  There are people who need to get through.”

You’re shocked.  You’ve never heard Gabriel get frustrated or raise his voice before.  But that’s not why you’re shocked.  It’s the girl’s voice.  You know it. 

It’s Vanessa.

In some other universe you might hail this as karma, but in truth, you only have sympathy for the girl you see before you.  It really is miserable out and you’re sure that Vanessa isn’t some corporate espionage spy – she really is just asking for a little help to get out of the rain and home before she gets sick.  Without overthinking it, you come up behind her and give Gabriel a reassuring smile, “It’s okay, Gabriel, I can take her to the subway.”

Vanessa turns and looks at you with a wide-eyed, almost scared expression on her face.  You can’t help but feel bad for her.  Obviously because she’s soaking wet and shivering, but you think she must not have been met with much kindness in her young life.

“Ma’am, that’s not really protocol…”

Your reassuring smile is now extended to Vanessa as well.  You want her to know you’re here to help her, truly, “Gabriel, it’s fine.  I know her.  And, even if I didn’t, I could never let you send a woman out into that downpour when we could so easily help her get to where she needs to go, okay?”

Gabriel nods as you swipe your access card against the reader and you gesture for Vanessa to go through before you follow.

The two of you walk silently towards the subway for a few moments.

“You don’t have to…”

You wave off Vanessa’s concern, “I think Gabriel’s watching, so I’ll just walk you all the way to the subway entrance so he doesn’t give you anymore trouble, okay?”

She nods and the two of you continue on.

“You don’t have to be so nice to me.”

Your answer is genuine, “I really don’t know any other way to be towards you.”  It’s true.  Yes, Din had cheated on you with her, but you hadn’t been dating Vanessa, you had been dating Din.  He had wronged you, not her (even if she had probably been a bit smug about it).

Vanessa nods again, the expression on her face seems to relax into some kind of revelation that you don’t quite understand.  When you get to the subway entrance, the two of you pause awkwardly before she finally speaks, “Thank you.”

Again, you try to smile as kindly as you can, “It’s okay.  I meant what I said to Gabriel – I didn’t like that he was trying to send you back out in the rain.  Here.” You hold out your umbrella, still in its plastic sleeve.

Vanessa doesn’t take it, even as you continue to extend it in her direction, “I don’t know how far you have to go once you reach your stop – the rain may not have let up by then.  Really, take it.  It’s my firm’s – I have a bunch more upstairs.”

This time she does open her hands and when she grasps the umbrella’s handle to take it from you, she blurts out, “I never slept with him!”

Silence hangs between the two of you at her statement.  You don’t know what she means at all, so you just say, “I’m sorry?”

Vanessa is looking down at the umbrella in her hands, words just spilling out, “That night.  The night you ‘caught’ me and Din – you didn’t walk in on anything.  I don’t know how, but he said he knew you were coming over and he asked me if I could make it look like he and I had been sleeping together when you showed up.  We didn’t do anything.  I played on my phone on the couch until we heard you knock.  I- don’t know why I did it… actually… no, that’s a lie.  I do.”  She finally looks up at you.

“Din was so in love with you.  Like seriously, so stupid in love with you.  He hadn’t been with anyone for a while before he met you, and those of us who… had gone out with him once or twice just got used to it, I guess.  Like we wanted him but he didn’t want anyone and that was fine.  Then he met you and all of a sudden, he was the doting boyfriend, head over heals in love, showing you off to all his friends, taking you to meet Boba.  And then it was so clear: it wasn’t that he wasn’t the boyfriend type, it was you.  He only wanted you.  I guess… I was jealous.” Vanessa shrugs, ashamed, “So when the chance came up to hurt you... I jumped at it.  I’m sorry.”

To say you’re shocked would be an understatement.  There is so much to process.  You’re not sure what Vanessa is asking from you, but you do appreciate her honesty, “I mean, I guess I get why you did it.  But why did Din?”

Vanessa shrugs again, “I really don’t know, I didn’t ask.  It didn’t matter to me, I guess.  I’m sorry.  But after you left, I… propositioned him?  Thought I would shoot my shot since we were both basically half undressed.  He turned me down and practically kicked me out.  All he cared about was making sure you got home safe.  You’re all he cared about.  Always.  It was only ever you.”

“I- ” you’re speechless.  Actually speechless, “Thank you for telling me, Vanessa.  I- still don’t understand any of it, but I always appreciate honesty.  Truly.”

And with that, Vanessa gives you a little wave of the umbrella you gave her as a final thanks before she disappears down the stairs into the subway station, leaving you dumbfounded and shellshocked.

It had been a lie.

Din hadn’t cheated on you.  Not with Vanessa.  Not that night, or according to her, any other night.  You had been his one and only.  The way you had always thought.  The way he had always made you feel.

Every spiraling assumption and devastating conclusion you’ve drawn about your relationship over the past five months is now being called into question: that he never loved you, that he wasn’t the man you believed him to be, that the devotion in your relationship had been one sided.  Had it all been real?  Was your Din real?

But he had lied. 

He had made up an elaborate lie to get away from you.  To hurt you.  This revelation gives rise to feelings that you thought you had long worked through and put to bed: betrayal, hurt, disbelief, anger.  On top of this fast rising tide of emotions that you’re afraid might drown you rides a question you've never felt like you wanted the answer to when it was simply that Din was a cheater: Why?

The date is going okay, you think.  Actually, it’s going exactly how you knew it would – you’re not into it.  Mark is honestly nice enough, funny enough, charming enough – you can see why Jen was always trying to get you to go out with him.  But he’s not Din.

You haven’t told anyone about your run in with Vanessa because you still don’t know what to make of it all; you have pieces of a puzzle that you didn’t even know existed, new questions, even fewer answers, and a whole new host of confused feelings.  Unsure of your own heart, you hadn’t known what to say to Jen to cancel this date that she lovingly setup for you at your request, so here you are.

Even if your overthinking brain wasn’t in overdrive analyzing and reanalyzing everything you learned yesterday, your heart, which is still working out your feelings towards Din, has unequivocally softened.  The Din of your memories, the one for whom your heart still beats deep down had been real, and he had never betrayed you in the manner you believed for the past few months.  The love you had felt with him had been true and the affection and devotion that had been cornerstones of your relationship have started making their way back into your chest.

You feel sort of bad about Mark.  Yes, you had been very clear with Jen and yourself that this date didn’t mark any great interest of yours to start dating again, but you know you could be putting in more of an effort on this date.  You try.  You really do.

After the pre-dinner drinks are finished and the waiter’s taken your dinner order, you excuse yourself to use the restroom, hoping for a few minutes alone to gather your thoughts.  Heading towards the bathrooms, you walk down a hall that opens to the restaurant’s private party rooms on one side.  All the doors are opened and you peek in to see that most of the rooms are empty, one of them being cleared from a large party that must have just left; when you get to the last doorway, you’re stopped dead in your tracks when you see who's inside.

It's Din.

He’s leaning back in a chair that’s been placed further back and away from the dining table that must centre the room; part of the meeting but not an active participant – a perimeter guard.  His handsome profile is as striking as you remember; his strong aquiline nose and cut jawline that’s currently flexing as he swallows hold your attention by their very existence - how is he here just when all your thoughts happen to be of him?  Din’s chocolate brown eyes are fixed on someone or something in the room, but he must feel your gaze because he turns and sees you – keeping his expression neutral, as if he doesn’t want anyone else in the room to notice you, you still see his eyes soften as they lock with yours and your heartbeat picks up a little.

Hi, you mouth shyly.

Hi, Din's lips curve up slightly at your sweet expression as he mouths back, you look nice.

You do too, because he does.  He’s in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and jet-black tie; the monochromatic look works for him.  Din’s slicked back hair is different – you’re so much more used to seeing his curls loose and tousled, but the change isn’t unwelcomed.  He looks professional.  Devastating.

Work?  Your head tilts a little so you can see a little further in the room and Din knows you see Paz sitting in front of him wearing a nearly identical outfit.  He nods, You?

Date.

Din nods slightly, eyes unreadable, Be safe.

I will. Not sure how much more you can communicate this way or even what you want to say, you give Din a little wave before continuing down the hall to the restroom.

---

Din cannot sit still.

Date? You were on a date?

But that’s not even the most jarring thing about seeing you unexpectedly tonight at the same restaurant where Boba’s holding a family meeting.  What’s really turning Din’s world upside down is that you didn’t look upset to see him.  Your expression was soft, kind and inviting.  As if you didn’t hate him. 

You’re over him.  That has to be it.  You were over him, wholly and completely; much too sweet to hold onto any malice towards him, you had treated him politely, like an old acquaintance.  He wants to be glad – happy that you’re no longer hurting and that his transgressions against you didn’t leave a permanent mark on your beautiful soul.  But his heart feels like it’s made of lead; dropping from his chest into his stomach when he thinks of you being on a date.  Din gets up and takes a walk towards the main dining room of the restaurant, looking to satisfy his morbid curiosity.

He sees you right away.  Your back is to him, but he knows its you.  You sit across from a perfectly respectable looking man dressed in a sharp suit – the both of you clearly having come straight from work.  The man probably has some smart corporate job like you, like a lawyer or someone who underwrites space rockets or something cool.  The man is making you laugh; Din can tell by the way your shoulders shake.  He imagines your smile and the way that your eyes crinkle when you think something is super funny but you don’t want to let loose one of those melodic laughs of yours where you throw back your head and the resulting song carries over the crowd.  Din watches as you swirl your wine glass the way he always thought was super adorable, with two of your fingers pressed against the base of the glass stem, before you lift those same fingers to make a gesture with your hand that indicates you’re adding to your date’s story with some witty comment of your own.  Your date’s face lights up and his look of admiration and joy from the pleasure of your company is one that Din knows well. 

He decides can’t watch anymore and slinks back down the hallway; heart ripped to pieces, leaving you to your pleasant evening.

Thanks so much for being patient with me - these chapters are emotionally hard to write and even harder to edit 😅 Since I'm once again yeeting this into universe on a random day instead of my usual posting date, adding a few tags for those who have expressed an interest in the story (omigod if you don't want to be tagged, please tell me!):

@tuquoquebrute @furiousmushroom @cheekychaos28 @72scsuze @nerdieforpedro

@toobsessedsstuff @whirlwindrider29 @inept-the-magnificent @mellymbee @that1nerd-20

@hipabbster23 @bitccchmood @bigbutchenergee @rainbowcat164 @the-strawberrythief

@johnssherlock221 @misstokyo7love @vivian-pascal @florxdexcerezo @fanficlover1414

@rarachelchel @heartbrokenlilbitch-nef @jeewrites @sunnytuliptime @kulekehe

@bebsjo

[yuurei20]

Malleus Facts Part 89: Malleus and Silver (pt1)

Silver says Malleus and Lilia have been looking out for him for as long as he can remember, with Malleus sneaking out of the castle to visit him, Lilia and Sebek.

Silver tells a story of a time when an unnamed someone who happened to be at their cottage taught him and his father how to dance upon his father’s request.

Based on speech patterns (and how we have heard of no one else but Sebek and Baur visiting the cottage), the “someone” is generally assumed to be Malleus.

Malleus does not seem to struggle in the way that others do to read Silver’s emotions, saying that Silver “has always been so empathetic, sharing in others’ joys and sorrows.”

When Lilia comments on the powerful emotions concealed beneath Silver’s poker face Malleus says, “I wouldn’t say he actively conceals them, per se. I suspect he simply doesn’t betray much emotion.”

Malleus says, “there is something to be said for that level of perseverance,” on the topic of Silver training hard every morning. Silver says he trains himself to better protect Malleus and his entourage.

Silver, Lilia and Sebek patrol campus the night before a Spelldrive tournament, on the lookout for spies. (This is presumably the tournament in Book 2, although we have heard of another in May).

When Idia asks if they are not going overboard Silver explains that, before NRC, Malleus was so well-protected that “he never set one foot outside the castle without a whole cadre of guards.” When Idia asks if Malleus “rules Diasomnia with an iron fist” and everyone is too scared to defy him Silver says, “Malleus doesn't need fear to lead anyone” and “I will do anything for the man I have pledged my loyalty to.”

Silver says that he hopes he will be able to attend an NRC ceremony alongside Malleus one day.

Malleus is well aware of Silver’s penchant for falling asleep without warning, getting coffee for Silver during Firelit Sky (“It might help him stay awake”), commenting on Silver dozing off places and teaseing him about being awakened by the Bell of Solace.

Silver will express concern about about how his actions will reflect on Malleus, allowing Vil to manipulate him into participating in a Film Research Club progress (“I cannot bring shame upon Malleus”) and becoming worried about losing credit in a potionology class because “losing credit would make (him) an embarrassment to Malleus!”

He also says that he endeavors to keep up with his studies as he has no desire to reflect poorly on Malleus.

[buckets-and-trees]

Hi Aspen, Cedar trees has been seeping into my mind lately (not that I’m complaining, but I’m blaming ovulation). Can I ask what a day in the life looks like for our dear couple? Do they ever run into each other doing their own independent tasks in town? Does reader ever watch Steve with his guards and become enamored with seeing him train/in charge?

Nonnie, I adore this ask!

A day in the life is a pretty odd juxtaposition between routine and a "plot of the week" kind of life. Running into him, depends on the day - but of course you love him more and more. As king, for Steve there are far more out of the ordinary things that crop into his days, whereas for you there are routines, ceremonial bits, and things that only change more based on the season, especially the first year of your marriage.

However, once the two of you came to the initial understanding that your marriage was more than just a political alliance between kingdoms with Steve acquiring someone to be his queen, Steve made some changes pretty swiftly to daily protocols so the two of you could grow together as a couple.

Title: A Shift in the Morning Routine Characters/Pairings: King!Steve x Queen!Reader Word Count: 1100

Content/Warnings: established relationship, reference to morning sex

Additional Notes: I've got so many head cannons that I want to build into more moments with the Cedar Trees AU, (including 2-3 more asks from @stargazingfangirl18 and @gifsbysimplysonia) but here is at least one.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Not everything changes overnight, you are still new to the kingdom, your role as queen, and growing in familiarity with the people, the land, and your responsibilities, but the new intimacy of a deeper connection and commitment that you and Steve pledged to each other unlocks a wholly different sense of security that trickles steadily into your bloodstream in a way that make the days warmer, brighter, and bearing the duties you have becomes more natural. They were not impossible before, nor difficult, you had been raised and prepared since birth to be ready to become someone’s queen, but the sense of belonging that breathed now between you and your husband – that you were husband and wife – shifted things fundamentally.   

But there are things that do change specifically in your patterns and behaviors. The first thing to change is having breakfast brought in for you both any night the king sleeps in your chambers, and because there is so much protocol and support from palace staff around you, the palace notices quickly that it seems that the king is spending every night with you. There are a few - a very few - who raise an eyebrow at this behavior. Those few seem to think that surely if the king has taken such a liking to his new queen, that's all well and good, but he is the king, why not invite you to his quarters? But no one dares question the king, and much of the palace see his growing devotion to you as only another sign of his very good and kind heart, his capacity to care only showing consistently now in another form.

The servants do know not to bring breakfast until the two of you ring for it though.

Except for unexpected emergencies, the two of you are not to be disturbed until the king has had time with his queen and the two of you are in a state of decency, donning your bedclothes or robes as appropriate.

After a few weeks of this, there's a morning where the king's private secretary is getting antsy while he waits to give the king his first briefing of the day, and Lord Barnes diplomatically intervenes.

"My King," Bucky bows his head in deference that appropriately reflects his respect for Steve's position as king and their tie as friends since schoolchildren before Steve inherited any title. "Coulson doesn't want to disturb you, but he is growing more concerned we will fall behind on your majesty's royal itinerary if he cannot brief you soon ahead of this morning's audiences with the delegations from Vanaheim and Malibu."

The soft sigh Steve lets out is short and you're certain only you can hear, though you know Bucky has seen the affect his arrival and announcement have had as his face reflects warmth, a bit of mirth, but also the duty and responsibility to keep his friend in line with his responsibilities as right hand.

The two of you had lingered much longer in bed that morning, for the pleasure of both of you (twice for you, the second time with Steve). You reach for his hand where it was resting on the corner of the table, slipping your fingers into his palm and brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “I would be a poor queen if I kept you here any longer then.”

Now Steve actually huffs. “You are not keeping me, I choose to breakfast with my wife, and I am not yet finished taking my nourishment for the day.”

You tilt your head and grin. “A kingdom cannot wait on their king all morning.”

“If I may,” Bucky interjects, and you both turn your attention to him, “Coulson could brief you as easily here as anywhere else.”

Steve nods and a wide smile spreads over his handsome face. “Bring him in, Buck.”

Your heart warms and flutters, the two of you holding each other’s gaze for another moment, and he reaches for more bread.  

When Lord Barnes returns with Coulson behind him, Coulson stands with only a little apprehension at the end of the table, but Bucky takes a seat across from you, to the right of the king, and begins to fill a plate of his own with breakfast.

“Your majesties,” Coulson addresses with a bow.

“Coulson,” Steve nods.

“Shall I start with the reports from the borders of the kingdom?”

“Are updates in regard to the delegations not more important than the border reports?” Steve questions, his brow furrowing.

It was fleeting, but you see the slightest of a glance to you and your presence, and your stomach hardens with guilt.

Coulson takes a breath to respond, but Steve holds up a hand. “I see. The queen’s insight may be valuable as we hear what you have to say as she is no stranger to royal politics.”

That hardening melts away at his words.

“Indeed, she may often prove to be invaluable in our efforts here in the coming days but as we move forward, as well, given that there are parts a queen may play that are wholly unavailable to a king.”

Bucky does not look up, but you see a relaxed grin on his face, and as you turn to gage Coulson’s reaction, you see his own previous apprehension had dissolved. “I would agree, your majesty.”

“Moving forward, if the queen should not mind, I would like you to deliver the morning briefing to us both while we breakfast. Come in straight away with the day’s food, Coulson.”

Steve squeezes your hand. “Do you object?”

A show of trust, of valuing your opinion, of seeing you as an asset as his queen – it is the furthest thing from your mind to object. “I serve this kingdom without reservation, my king.”

“One could not ask for a more dutiful or beautiful queen at my side.”

Those blue eyes bore into yours.

You know he means those words.

The full silence in the room only hits you when Lord Barnes clears his throat.

“Start with Vanaheim, Coulson, I meet with them first, correct?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Over the weeks that turned into months and years, you grew to like Coulson very much, and after that first day when Steve stated his trust in you, Coulson never showed any hesitancy in you ever again, and, in fact, became one of your most staunch champions in the kingdom.

READ THE NEXT PART: WINTER SOLSTICE read more of the Cedar Trees AU

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[postitforward]

Today’s world is a difficult one. It is becoming evermore digital and can be all the lonelier for it. And with it can come anxiety in abundance. But we have someone who we think might be able to help: Jasmine Marie, CEO and Founder of black girls breathing®, who is here to explore the many big questions in this strange new world.

We will be partnering with @blackgirlsbreathing, a safe space for Black women and girls to manage their mental health and reflect on and heal their trauma through breathwork and community. They aim to offer free and accessible mental health resources to one million Black women and girls by 2025.

COVID-19 harmed us in more ways than one, and some more than others. It widened the gap of accessible mental health resources available to Black and Brown communities at the same time many in these same groups were experiencing isolation, compacted grief, and depression. Jasmine’s work is focused on providing preventative tools to combat a taxed nervous system, and black girls breathing® is here to provide free and accessible mental health resources to Black women and girls by offering not just breathwork, but a community. So if you’re a Black woman or girl, take the pledge to take one action to better your mental health by grabbing your free mental health toolkit and signing up here. And don't forget to ask her a question, and join us back here on March 27th to see her answers.

Want to learn more about @blackgirlsbreathing?

Check out their website!

Breathe with us on March 27th @12pm EDT during their Mindful Monday Breathwork for Anxiety session on Tumblr Live

Get to know black girls breathing's founder, Jasmine Marie on her Tumblr Spotlight

Take the pledge with black girls breathing®

[coochiequeens]

The tide is turning for the TQ+. And they have no one to blame but themselves

Wes Streeting last night admitted he had been wrong to say that “trans women are women” amid a major Labour row over the Cass review into NHS gender care.

The shadow health secretary said the controversial LGBT rights group Stonewall – where he used to work – had got it wrong with its slogan.

In a major about-turn for the party, he told The Sun that he now admitted “there are lots of complexities” on the trans issue but that he was prepared to take criticism “on the chin”.

It came as Labour became embroiled in another trans row after Mr Streeting welcomed the review and pledged to implement it in full.

The shadow health secretary said the report raised “some serious concerns that are pretty scandalous”.

But Rosie Duffield, a Labour MP placed under investigation by the party last year for campaigning against gender ideology, pointed out that women who had exposed the scandal had been “blanked, sidelined and dismissed” by male leaders simply for speaking up.

Last night Mr Streeting was asked on The Sun’s Never Mind The Ballots programme whether he stood by Stonewall’s claim that “trans women are women, get over it”, he admitted: “No.”

He added: “To the extent that – and I say this with some self-criticism and reflection – if you’d asked me a few years ago, on this topic, I would have said trans men are men, trans women are women. Some people are trans, get over it. Let’s move on. This is all blown out of proportion.

“And now I sort of sit and reflect and think actually, there are lots of complexities.”

He went on: “I take the criticism on the chin. And at the same time, I also think that there’s been some absolutely ugly rhetoric directed towards trans people who are at the wrong end of all of statistics on hate crime, on self harm, suicide, mental health.”

Labour has long been divided on trans issues and has been accused of flip-flopping on its stance in recent years.

The party no longer has plans to bring in self-ID for trans people, and Sir Keir Starmer, the Labour leader, has rowed back from saying “trans women are women”, and now states that a woman is an “adult female” and that 99.9 per cent of them do not have a penis.

Mr Streeting’s comments angered the Labour Left. The Corbynite group Momentum tweeted: “The Cass review ignored dozens of scientific studies, coming to a harmful conclusion of limiting access to gender-affirming care for trans youth.

“Anti-trans campaigners have celebrated it. So it’s highly disappointing that Labour’s leadership is welcoming it unreservedly.”

Yesterday, feminist Julie Bindel demanded an apology from Mr Streeting for failing to support her gender-critical views when he was president of the National Union of Students.

Earlier this year, the party dropped a year-long investigation into a complaint that Ms Duffield had been transphobic for liking a tweet by Father Ted creator Graham Linehan, who is now a gender-critical campaigner.

However, despite the changes, critics of the Labour leadership say gender-critical women in the party continue to be sidelined or not selected.

Wes Streeting says the Cass report raised 'some serious concerns that are pretty scandalous' CREDIT: Jay Williams

The Cass review, published on Wednesday, said much of the evidence for gender medicine was flimsy and that drugs such as puberty blockers should be used with extreme caution as children who think they are trans may have mental health problems.

Dr Hilary Cass, the paediatrician behind the report, said some NHS gender clinics refused to comment on requests for information.

On Never Mind the Ballots, Mr Streeting said: “I think we’ve got to ask ourselves why is it that we’ve seen medical interventions that have been given on the basis of very weak evidence?

“How is it that clinicians have been silenced or afraid to come forward? Why is it that a group of young people who are extremely vulnerable are waiting years to access treatment?

“I think there’s plenty of blame to go around. I’m pretty angry actually that despite this review having been commissioned there are some NHS trusts that refused to co-operate.

“And I want to send a clear message to them that under a Labour government there’ll be accountability for that, you’re not going to get away with it. And I want to work constructively with the Government to try to get this right.”

Earlier, he had tweeted: “Children’s healthcare should always be led by evidence and children’s welfare, free from culture wars…

“The Government must now immediately act, but if they do not, the next Labour government will work to implement the expert recommendations of the Cass review, to ensure that young people are receiving appropriate and high-quality care.”

This prompted Ms Duffield to retweet the statement, with the message: “To the many women blanked, sidelined, dismissed by male leaders when speaking up and exposing this for years.”

And Ms Bindel, a former Labour Party member, wrote: “Glad to see you are now openly critical of the gender ideology that led to the atrocities against children outlined in the Cass report.

“I am open to accepting an apology from you. In 2008, when you were NUS president, I was no-platformed alongside five fascist groups for ‘transphobia’.

“I contacted you and asked for your help. You gave none. I asked you to condemn those that had orchestrated the no-platforming, and you refused.

“Have you any idea of the reputational damage this caused me? How it gave others permission to no-platform, denounce and defame me?

“How it meant that I could be slandered by other organisations, and so many, many universities around the UK and elsewhere? If this sounds bitter then good, because I am.”

To this message, Ms Duffield said: “Thank you for leading us all here Julie. Without you, most of us wouldn’t have had a clue what had been happening to children who were far too young to have the critical faculties or agency to consent.”

Addressing Ms Bindel’s accusation, Mr Streeting replied: “From memory (16 years on, so correct me if I’m wrong!) I replied to confirm that you weren’t on NUS’ no platform policy and as this was in relation to a motion passed by the autonomous women’s campaign I was not empowered to overturn it (not least as a male president!).”

[mooniedust]

Jacaerys Velaryon prompt/bot

Plot: When Jacaerys' mother, Rhaenyra, sends a group of bastards to tame wild dragons, Jacaerys feels contempt for them, reflecting the hatred he harbors for being seen as a bastard himself. You, confront him, challenging his worldview. Through your conversations, you make him question his resentment and obsession with his absent father, pointing out that his mother, Rhaenyra, chose him out of love, and that his worth is not dependent on his legitimacy.

TW: Bastardphobia.

With all my heart,

Moon Dust.

Everything felt like a cruel, twisted jest: the coronation of his uncle over his mother, the true and rightful heir to the throne; the devastating death of Lucerys on a mission of peace that ended in bloodshed; and now, his mother resorting to sending bastards to tame the wild, unclaimed dragons. Bastards—filthy, unworthy creatures—who lacked the respect, the heritage, the dignity they should possess. Ignorant, they touched what they could never understand: the glory of a dragon, oblivious to the majesty they dared approach in their wretched, meaningless lives.

Yet, in the depths of his soul, Jacaerys knew he was one of them. Dressed in fine jewels, armed with Valyrian steel, dragon blood coursing through his veins, he was, in truth, nothing more than a bastard himself. Perhaps that was the source of his scorn—a bitterness so profound that it twisted in his gut, burning his lips with the sourness of hate, like biting into the flesh of a lemon. For all his rejection of them, those bastards were freer than he could ever dream of being. His existence, a stain upon the war, upon Rhaenyra's claim to the throne. All because of his dark hair—his undeniable mark of shame, proof of a father who was not the one to whom his mother had pledged her vows.

Strong. But not strong enough to be counted among the pure-blooded Velaryons.

"You should feel honored, my lady. To be chosen by a dragon is no small feat, least of all for a bastard," his voice lashed out, sharp and cold, like a blade slicing through the biting air. His eyes, pale as winter, remained fixed on the horizon as the wind swept through his brown curls, revealing the harsh contours of his face—pale skin and a jawline chiseled by disappointment and fate.

Footsteps echoed softly as someone approached the prince. A young woman, small, almost invisible amidst the ragged group of bastards his mother had gathered, but here—at his side—she could not be overlooked. Clad in a simple, form-fitting dress and a cloak that offered little protection from the chill, she was like a girl stolen from her modest life, thrust into a war she could never fully comprehend. A mere shadow in the fortress of Dragonstone.

"I am no lady, and certainly no bastard," she replied quietly, adjusting her stance beside him. Her wide, doe-like eyes, framed by long, unassuming lashes, observed the crashing waves with a calm that mirrored his own, though it concealed something far more potent beneath.

Jacaerys arched an eyebrow, an icy, mocking laugh escaping his lips, the mist of his breath fading into the cold. A low hum followed as he leaned in, his gaze narrowing, studying her face with the keen eyes of someone seeking the truth hidden beneath the surface.

"Of course, a pure Targaryen, no doubt? And where, may I ask, are your silver locks?" His hand moved with cruel purpose, tugging at her hood until it slipped, the fabric cascading down her shoulders.

"And where are yours?" she shot back, without flinching.

Touché.

A tense silence fell between them, thick with unspoken truths. Jacaerys' fingers, adorned with rings, drummed against the cold stone steps leading to Dragonstone's shore as he searched for a reply that would cut as deeply as her retort.

"It seems my mother didn't quite consider the consequences when she lay with a man of dark hair instead of her husband," he finally muttered, his voice bitter, as though tasting the ashes of his family's mistakes. He brushed his own dark locks behind his ear, his lips curling into a thin, bitter line. "What’s the saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Three bastard sons, and still, she didn't learn."

The young woman said nothing, allowing him to spill his torment into the wind, his words becoming a scattered, broken murmur, carried away into the cold void of the evening.

"Your mother, the queen, knew exactly what she was doing," she said softly, her eyes never leaving him. "Do not mistake her for a fool. She could have taken moon tea, used all the methods available to her, but she didn’t. She chose you, chose all of you. Some mothers, driven by something deeper than reason, go beyond the understanding of men—perhaps it’s love."

"Her desires change nothing," Jacaerys spat, venomous. "I am still a bastard, stealing my rightful kin’s place on the throne. Foolishness. Love is the death of duty."

Her scoff echoed loudly in the silent air, her irritation plain. She kicked a stone, hands resting defiantly on her hips, her frustration burning hotter than the cold winds around them.

"How utterly absurd! Are you truly that blind? With all due respect, Your Majesty, but look around! Bastards, everywhere, with nothing—no land, no future, no graves to call their own—walking a razor’s edge between being burned alive by dragons or dying for a throne that means nothing to them!" She began to pace, fury radiating off her in waves. "Forgive me if the sorrows of a noble bastard do not stir my heart, but honestly? No one cares. Not outside the crown’s walls. It’s always the crown. It’s never the people."

"The struggle is the same, my lady. Neither of us are children of anyone, our fathers are nobodies in the grand scheme of things, are they not?" The prince’s voice faltered, his fingers clawing at the cold stone, nails breaking against the unyielding surface. He refused to meet her gaze, his pain palpable in every movement, every breath. But once again, she shattered his self-pity with her sharp, unforgiving words.

"I couldn’t care less who my father was. Good or bad, he’s gone, my mom.. and you—" she paused, her voice steady but fierce. "You shouldn’t care either. Yes, it’s tragic. Cry at night, if you must—weep into the darkness. But when the sun rises, remember this: your mother carried you beneath her heart for many moons, she dreamed of your future, and even now, she fights for what is yours by birthright, she laughs and weeps as you do and still chose you. So, instead of mourning a father who never was, why not choose your queen for once?"

[grandlinedreams]

hey babes!!! i just want to say that i love your law fics! and i stumbled across the soulmate law fic and you talked how law is so kaz brekker coded 🥹 glad im not the only one!! i would love to see more law in kaz moments just like the scene when kaz treated inej in the bathroom (im not sure if you've done this trope before but i love the tension between kanej) 🤣

GOD BLESS YOU you know what i'm talking abt they're so similar yet different but OUGH YES i had to find my copy and reread the chapter so i could get a good read again hhhfnd

[Heads up!: some good ol' pining, mention of injuries, pre-dressrosa/post punk hazard]

The door to the bathroom is open, shiny tile and bright lighting ㅡ and you, making neat strips of clean cloth for bandaging. Law doesn't knock to announce his presence, knows he doesn't have to. Though you don't look up, you're aware of him.

"There are two doctors on this ship," he intones, "you could have had one of us patch you up."

Snip. Another strip of bandage. "Both of you are injured. I hardly think it fair to ask you to do more while you heal."

"I think you're still bleeding." Law nods to the bright red that blossoms through the bandage that you have wound around your upper arm, approaching. "I can help."

You secure yourself further against the basin, watching him. In the reflection, he catches a peek of the tattoo stamped over the topmost knot of your spine ㅡ he looks away.

"I'm sorry."

You don't ask him what he's apologizing for ㅡ there are a thousand things he could be apologizing for, a thousand that he should.

Apologies don't come easy for a man like him.

"Were you the one who shot me?" He doesn't like the way you stare at him, Law realizes. Too analytical, too much like you're pulling him apart meticulously, piece by piece. He wonders ㅡ if you reach in far enough to pull the dark, wild thing of his heart out, would you be afraid of him?

"No. Butㅡ"

"Then you have nothing to apologize for." His teeth grit, jaw aching with the force of it. You make it sound as though the world deals in absolutes, measured evenly and doled out in the same way.

It doesn't, he knows that. If the world were fair, he may still not have his family, but he'd still have Cora.

"You shouldn't have come with me." He still hasn't moved towards you, evaluating you like a cornered animal despite the relaxed set of your shoulders, the loose curl of your hands for balance on the basin.

"I pledged my loyalty to you, not to a ship crew without their captain."

Law wonders if you've ever lied in your life. You meet his gaze, and his eyes narrow. He should demand you leave ㅡ find some way to get ahold of Bepo and the others, make you leave.

(He needs you to stay.)

He finally slots himself in the space between your knees, takes hold of your arm with one hand, the scissors you'd been using with the other.

Despite the blood seeping through, the wind of bandage is neat, efficient ㅡ you've watched him do it so many times.

Snip.

Bare skin, marred only for the clean, punched hole that oozes fresh blood. If it hurts, you don't show it.

He holds his hand out without looking at you, soft cloth against his fingers that he dabs your wound with.

"What's your intention in Dressrosa?"

Blood seeps into the cloth. "This should be stitched."

He doesn't need to look up to know you're staring at him. He can feel your gaze, fights the urge to look at you. "It's fine."

He winds white bandage around it, lost in the soft loop around your arm as he finally answers your question. "To bring down Doflamingo."

Scissors gleam in the lighting overhead. Your eyes, dark moon pupils haloed by color ㅡ dismantling him, piece by piece. "What are you really after?"

Snip.

The scissors clatter into the basin as his hands meet the mirror on either side of your head. This close, he could kiss you. Let his hands wander, touch, selfishly covet the way he so badly wants to. But he doesn't.

(His hands are bloodstained, and yours are not.)

His eyes lock with yours, his fingers curling. "The means to an end."

[salmonskinrolltf]

hey there these video tapes sound pretty far out. The thing is, I’m this awkward, average looking gay dude who is slowly approaching a mid life crisis. I work as a math teacher at a local community college. And my days are filled with teaching students and my nights are spent wondering what I did with my life. Anyways, I really wanted to watch the Neighbors movie with Zac Efron. I’ve had the biggest crush on his obnoxious frat boy character! I mean that body is insane!

You eagerly tear open your Be Kind Rewind package and pull out the Neighbors VHS, barely noticing the die that falls into your hand. Nor do you notice your subconscious decision to toss it onto the floor, rolling a 3 in the process. As you place the tape in the VCR (has that always been there?), you hit rewind so it can play from the beginning.

You can’t wait to vicariously live the frat boy life you missed out on, even if it’s filtered through the perspectives of Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne as annoyed adults in their mid-30s, which hits much closer to home than you want it to. Excitement swells in your chest to the point that you feel almost giddy. You need to calm down a bit, so you take a swig of the beer you don’t remember putting on the table in front of you. Not on a coaster, even. That’s so unlike you…

As soon as the frothy beverage passes your lips, you feel a sense of calm dullness washing over you. You run a hand through your hair, which seems straighter and less tangled than usual.

As you take another sip, your phone pings with an email from a student asking about a particularly tough problem you presented during your lecture that day. You look up and see that the movie is still rewinding, so you suppose you have time to answer. But as soon as you open the email to explain the answer, the numbers start swimming in front of your eyes. The 3 should go… where again? And why the hell are there so many letters in there? This is math. Math is numbers, right?

Fuck, this is too frustrating. You toss your phone to the other end of the couch and chug the rest of your beer. You suddenly need to piss like a racehorse, so you head to the bathroom. Once you’re done, the dull buzzing in your head prevents you from even considering washing your hands, but you do stop by the sink when you see your reflection in the mirror.

Holy shit. Your face is, like, morphing or something. Your eyebrows thicken, your nose elongates, your jaw cracks and broadens. You feel a squirming feeling under your shirt and you tear it off, watching as muscle blossoms from beneath your skin. Any excess weight sloughing off, just like every last bit of body hair, leaving you with a taut and smooth torso. A brief flash of pain accompanies a tattoo that appears on your newly built pec.

You try to summon a feeling of shock, but you just… can’t. That dull buzzing is even stronger now. And you look too good, dude! You admire yourself in the mirror, not noticing as the bathroom furnishings change behind you.

You step out of the bathroom into the foyer of a house you no longer recognize. Well, you almost recognize it, but it’s definitely not YOUR house. You might have been able to put your finger on where you are, but something distracts you. A shirtless Zac Efron is standing in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned and a finger to his lips.

Is this… Are your fantasies coming to life? But in your fantasies, he’d be kissing you by now. He wouldn’t be giving you the shooing motion he’s currently doing. Za- Wait, what was his name? Zaccy? Zaddy? Teddy. Yeah, Teddy. Teddy whispers to you. “Get out of the way man, I’m pranking the new pledge.” You comply, your thoughts still hazy.

Your thoughts remain that way for the rest of the night. And for the rest of the week. And the rest of the month. But despite the constant dull roar, you put a few things together. You’re Pete Regazolli, proud vice-president of Delta Psi Beta. If you weren’t always this way, you don’t care to think about it. You’re still got a massive crush on Teddy, of course. You’re gay after all, and the whole frat knows it. But even if he isn’t into guys that way, at least you still get to spend all your time with him, staring at him when he’s not looking, touching him whenever you get the chance… A chance like the one you have right now, when you’re about to pull off a huge prank on this new pledge who has no idea what’s coming… Bro, it’s gonna be so lit!

[sacrosacred]

I had First Time lead into Anything But on my shuffle just now and realized that the last verse of the former ties itself to the latter in a way I think is [through extremely gritted teeth] interesting

Like, here you've got the singer saying "c'mere to me" to his lost lover, someone who he's argued with, someone who's called him 'baby' for the last time because they've broken up. It's a bittersweet line, intimately pulling this person close to ask about something so heartbreaking.

AND THEN!

I've seen other people talk about the duality of Anything But - it's the Fraudulent circle of Hell; it seems at a surface level to be the singer pledging all his effort to his lover, when upon reflection it belies a coldness or indifference towards them. It's a similar tone to that last verse of First Time!! It feels like Anything But is a conversation these two are having as they part ways for that final time. There's an initial sweetness to the words that fades into a wish for distance and a subtle cruelty. Huge divorce energy.

I also think the fact that there's mention of the Liffey in both songs (and that the latter comes so close to the opening line in Anything But) serves to underscore this connection.

The river Liffey is notably kind of gross. At this point he would rather be trash in a polluted river, or drink it all down, than think of the time they spent together, which is a hell of a burn now that I think about it. It'd be a beautiful image if you didn't know anything about what it's actually like, which sums up the story of their relationship.

In conclusion: