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nickfowlerrr · 1 year

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i never thought you’d happen to me - 3

part one / part two

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst maybe? allusion to, but no actual, smut. time travel via magic. dad!bucky and mom!reader. steve x nat. if i’m missing anything that should be tagged, please lmk!

words: 2.6k

notes: this idea came from a prompt post i saw not too long ago and coincidentally fell into some bingo spots for my @the-slumberparty bingo card. fair warning: this is so completely self indulgent and a little trope overload lol but i had such a good time working on it and it was fun to write so who really cares 😌 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. please let me know what you think!

As you pull up to their house, the soft glow from the few lights still on inside light up the windows along the front face. Bucky parks as you unbuckle and meets you as you open the passenger door, Wolfie in your hand as you stand.

You make your way up their porch quickly before Bucky knocks softly on the front door. It opens not too much later as Steve greets you both, holding Linc with one arm as he carries the still pouting boy, his head resting on Steve’s shoulder and chest as his arms hold onto his Uncle as comfortably as he can.

The second he registers its you guys, his bright blue eyes go wide, turning to Steve with a look of surprise, his mouth parting open like he can’t believe his own eyes, before he turns back to you both and stretches his arms out to Bucky, hitting Steve a bit as he does, but not seeming to register it in his excitement. Steve chuckles as he hands him over to Bucky, who takes him in his arms readily.

“Hi, Daddy,” Linc greets as he cuddles into Bucky’s chest, looking like he’s about to pass out any second now.

“Hey, buddy,” he smiles, “We brought you Wolfie.”

“Don’t need Wolfie,” he shakes his head, burying his face in Bucky’s shirt. “You, Daddy.”

You see the moment it clicks in Bucky’s mind that all Linc really wanted was him, and you can’t help but smile at the gleam in his eyes as he hugs his son tighter.

“Here, come in,” Steve tells you both, urging you inside. “I think Ellie’s sleeping, already,” he continues as he leads you to the kid’s room. Peeking inside, you can see her sleeping soundly, the spot near her, reserved for Licoln, obviously empty. You stare for a moment longer before Bucky steps beside you.

“We’re gonna try and go to sleep now, okay?” he tells Linc, who nods softly.

As Bucky enters the room, you find yourself alone with Steve in the hallway, who is staring at you quizzically.

“What?” you ask him.

“Nothin’,” he brushes off. “It’s just..” he stops himself, thinking through what he wants to say before he continues carefully. “Are you guys alright?”

You look at him like a deer in headlights.

“Yeah,” you breathe with a bit too fervent of a nod. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Just want to make sure. You guys have been acting odd all day. And look, if it’s a secret or something, that’s fine.. But, you know you can tell us anything. I just want to make sure everything’s alright,” he says sincerely, looking at you in the way only he can, a trust and understanding in his eyes that makes you want to come clean just like that. On instinct, you find yourself opening your mouth to confess your situation, but catch yourself before letting the absurdity slip.

“It is a secret,” you say, smiling through a grimace. “But, I promise, we’re good.”

He looks at you thoughtfully once more before conceding with a nod. “Okay,” he says before offering you a small smile.

The door creaks open a bit wider once again and you expect to find Bucky alone, coming out from getting Linc down.

So when he opens the door even wider and walks out with a twin in each arm, a sorry smile on his lips as he meets your eye, you can’t help but scoff in amusement.

Ellie is snoozing against him as Lincoln holds onto Wolfie like his life depends on it. His eyes are tired but he fights it still.

“I tried,” Bucky defends himself, “but Ellie woke up and they sweet talked me.”

“Can’t blame you,” Steve laughs, “Poppy suckered me into extra s’mores earlier with one puppy dog look alone, I can’t imagine what double toddler pouts would get outta me.”

Bucky laughs in turn, a look of pure happiness in his eyes as he watches his best friend in such simple joy talking about his kids. Steve is happy. Nat is happy. And you, he thinks, you’re happy too. He doesn’t know how or when you all luck out on this, but just knowing that this is the future that awaits him, he’s excited to go back to the present so he can live out every moment of this with you.

Ellie’s eyes flutter at the sound of your laugh at Steve’s story and she gingerly picks her head up, her eyes looking around. When she spots you, she lets her eyes close again as a smile graces her precious face, one arm blindly reaching out in your direction.

You see her and gently take her from Bucky’s hold, holding her tightly against you as she nuzzles into you. Her hand is petting you gently, like she’s ensuring you’re there and you feel her. You smile at the affectionate gesture until her small voice makes its way to your ears.

“Momma,” she sighs sleepily as she cuddles into your neck before her movements eventually stop and she’s sleeping once again.

And that was it. Her sweet, soft voice did it. You had to turn away from her as best you could as you tried not to choke on your cry - not wanting to wake her up and alarm her as your eyes welled and a tear slipped, your hand running up and down her back soothingly.

You could see the concern written all over Steve’s face as he looked at you, “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just been feeling really emotional lately,” you try to write off the sudden display of emotions taking over you.

“Oh. Oh,” he realizes. He nods, almost dumbly, “right, right.”

You know what he’s putting together in his mind, but you don’t have the energy to correct him. That can be a problem for future you to tamper down. You sniffle, trying to collect yourself as you hold Ellie securely in your arms. You look to Bucky with an unspoken question.

“I think we’re gonna take ‘em home, this little guy doesn’t wanna sleep tonight,” Bucky says, patting Linc’s back gently. “But thank you guys for watching them today.”

“Yeah, of course. And hey, we can pick them up on our way out tomorrow if you guys still wanted the day. Poppy and Al have been looking forward to it all week.”

“That’d be great,” you nod with a smile. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Anytime.”

You all walk to the front door and part with hugs before you and Bucky get the sleepy toddlers buckled in their seats. This time is much easier than it was this morning now that they’re thoroughly exhausted and not wiggling around like worms.

You shut the doors gently before getting in yourselves, Bucky driving you all back to the house in a peaceful quiet.

—

It’s easy getting them out of the car, each of you holding one as you enter back inside.

You and Bucky carry them to their room, thinking they’re finally settled, but as you try to put them down in their beds, neither of them will let go of you guys. Ellie is clearly still sleepy as she huffs annoyedly at you for trying to leave her when she’s so comfy, and Linc is awake again as he holds onto Bucky and Wolfie.

“Big bed, daddy,” he mumbles, looking at him with those pleading eyes.

Bucky looks at you, finding you holding Ellie close once again, not having put her down after her huffing. You shrug and watch as he nods, turning back to grab Lincoln.

“Alright,” he sighs, “come on, buddy. But we have to go to bed now, got it?”

“Mhm,” he nods happily, hugging Bucky’s neck.

You smile at the scene before making your way to the bedroom, thankful that all of you are already in pajamas as you sit on the bed with Ellie.

“I’m gonna lay down with you in a second, baby,” you reassure her quietly before setting her down, her head on a pillow near the center of the bed.

You take off your shoes as Bucky puts Lincoln down next to Ellie and does the same. You look at the twins, Lincoln finally letting his eyes close as his breaths slow and steady and sleep takes him at last. Bucky walks over to you and turns your face to him gently. You touch his wrist gingerly as you look in his eyes, stepping in closer. Being so close has never felt so right.

“What time did you fall asleep last night?” you ask him softly.

“Around midnight.”

“Me too,” you nod.

“Guess we still have a few hours to enjoy this,” he says, dropping his hand from your cheek in favor of pulling you closer by your waist, looking over with a bittersweet smile to the twins on the bed.

“Yeah,” you agree, “...and then what?”

“And then… we go back. Start living this all out in real time. Enjoy every second,” he says, leaning down to kiss you gently.

“Not the worst way to start forever,” you muse.

“Forever, huh?” he asks with a smirk.

“As long as we both shall live,” you nod with a smile of your own.

He titters before kissing you again, your lips moving softly against his. “Who woulda thought.”

“Mmm… everyone but us, apparently,” you laugh breathily before brushing his lips with yours once more. You move to pull away but Bucky keeps you where you are, kissing you a little more firmly as his hands lightly squeeze your chubby waist. Finally, you part for air, his forehead falling to yours as you take a second to catch your breath, licking your lips a touch.

A mumble followed by a huff sounds from the bed, catching both your attentions. You turn and see Ellie moving around before she speaks, more clearly this time.

“Mommy,” she eeks out, voice groggy with sleep as she rolls over.

“I guess this is goodnight,” you smile softly.

“Goodnight,” he says, giving you a soft smile of his own, tightening his hold on you for a second as he admires you still before him. “I’ll find you in the morning,” he promises.

You nod, the thought sending your tummy fluttering. “Okay.”

You slowly part and walk around to your sides of the bed, getting in carefully so as not to wake the twins. As you settle in, Ellie senses you near and crawls to you, hugging you as she settles into your warmth. You look over and see Linc already rolled into Bucky in turn. Your eyes meet Bucky’s then as you share a smile. You scooch closer to them, and he meets you near the middle - the four of you comfortable as can be under the comforter.

“Call me crazy,” he whispers, “but I’m looking forward to this already.”

You huff out a laugh at that before shaking your head lightly, “‘S’not that crazy,” you admit, sounding almost shy to yourself at the confession before glancing over at him again.

He looks so happy, his brilliant eyes shining even through the darkened room. “Goodnight, doll,” he offers again.

“Goodnight, Buck,” you whisper back.

With the twins cuddled up between you both, it isn’t long before all of you are sleeping soundly.

—-

It’s quiet when you wake up.

And cold.

You hate that.

You slowly blink your eyes open, finding yourself in your room back at the tower once again. You check the clock. 3:02am.

Your mind is racing and a weird feeling is growing in your stomach. You quickly recognize it as anxiety as you try to calm yourself down. The one thought that is at the forefront of your mind, over everything, is this: Was it real?

You sit up and take a second to orient yourself in the dark before getting up. You don’t bother with the lights, you go straight for the door to your room.

You pull it open as quietly as you can manage before walking into the hallway. It’s dark out here, too, but not pitch black. The glow from the soft lights down the hall offer you some sight before you follow them. No one is in the living room when you get there, though, the lights had just been left on apparently. You sigh, still struggling to comprehend if you’d just woken up from a very real seeming dream or if you really had just been in the future for 24 hours. You turn to start back down the hallway again. As you get to the entryway, you see a figure coming down, stopping you in your tracks as you try to see who it is. You step closer after a moment, too, curiosity eating at you - yelling at you to find out who it is.

Another step and then the figure becomes more clear. When you get to the point where you can both see each other, you both still and idle a moment - both of you seeming to be equally unsure.

Bucky takes a step to you, testing the waters. And you copy his movement. You stare at one another a second, your breathing getting heavier.

Suddenly, you lose your patience. You can’t take it any longer, you muster your courage and with a deep, albeit shaky breath, you walk to him again. He moves just as swiftly as you now, more confident in his path before meeting you in the middle of the hallway.

No words pass your lips, the moment you’re close enough to touch, Bucky has you flush against him as he crashes his lips into yours. You’re pulling him to you before he just lifts you off your feet, forcing you to hold onto him - not that you really minded all that much. Your arms are wound around his neck, your fingers in his hair as your thick thighs are around him, his hands holding you with no effort at all. The kiss is intent and fervent and long overdue here. He doesn’t let up and neither do you - every emotion you’d been holding back finally spilling as you lose yourself in him.

You have to break the kiss eventually, breathing heavier than you had been as you try to collect yourself as you press your forehead to his. Bucky holds you tightly, refusing to let you go as his eyes close - a shudder you almost didn’t notice passing over him.

“I love you,” he confesses quietly, almost pained. “‘M sorry if that’s too soon, but I need you to know. I do.”

“Bucky,” you utter, touching his cheek gently, urging him to look at you. You shake your head lightly, “don’t be sorry.”

You kiss him again, gentler now.

“I love you,” you breathe softly against his lips.

He smiles into your kiss, a sense of relief coming over you both as he hugs you tightly before he sets you down on your feet.

You look at him with a smile of your own, taking his hand in yours before you slowly start down the hall again.

“My room or yours?” you ask without pretense, leading the way.

“My bed’s bigger,” he says, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you bridal style down the hall. “Hope you like it, because I don’t plan on letting you leave it for the next 24 hours. At least.

“We’ve got a lot of time to make up for. And a lot of future to catch up to,” he smiles as he carries you across the threshold before setting you gently down on his bed.

“Hm,” you simper, easily grabbing his hand and pulling him down on top of you, the sight of him above you sending that growing ever familiar thrill of anticipation through you, “we should really get started then.”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #dad!bucky #mom!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

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Follow You Anywhere 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting 'part 2?' is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You sit at the dining table with your laptop, hiding behind the screen as you try to figure out what to do. How do you get this man to leave? Better, how do you do that without making him angry?

You stare at the unfinished project in front of you. You're not going to get paid for blurry pixels. Work is the least of your worries.

You peek over the top of the laptop and blanch as the subtle movement catches his eye. He grins and sits up, “need something, sweetie?”

“Uh, nope,” you put your eyes down and the screen goes fuzzy.

“Hm,” he hums into a grunt and heaves himself up, “you haven’t made any videos yet. What about your shopping trip huh? You gonna edit some of that.”

“Erm, maybe later, I have work stuff–”

“You know,” he nears and stands across the round table, looming menacingly with his hands on his hips, “you could probably quit all that if you committed to your streams. Lotsa people wanna watch a sweet girl like you.”

“That’s nice but I don’t even have ten followers,” you chuckle.

“Mm, maybe, but… I could help you,” he offers.

“Really, it’s fine,” your voice trembles, “it’s… it’s just a way to get my thoughts out, that's all.”

He clucks and clears his throat, looking around, “well, I guess I’ll go get my stuff.”

“Um, sure,” you look at him again then peek at the keys hung by the door.

He whistles, “Aika, come, you probably needa go.”

The dog rises from beside the couch and follows him to the door. You get up, heart flipping. You need to just lock the door. As long as he doesn’t–

He grabs the keys and shoves them deep in his pocket. He hooks the leash onto Aika’s collar as she stands obediently before him. He grins over at you, “don’t worry, sweetie, won’t be long at all.”

He turns and unlocks the door, swinging it inward as he lets the German shepherd lead the way. You deflate and fall back onto the chair. Holy shoot! What are you going to do? Nothing you can think of makes sense. He doesn’t make sense. It’s as if he really believes you know each other. That this is his home.

You bend over your lap and hold your head, rocking as you let out a drone. The panic is so bad you can’t hold it in. The noise escaping you is inhuman. You know you’re too weak, too afraid to do anything. So what? You’ll just let him take over your home?

You quiet and stay as you are, hunched over your legs. Are you going to let him do whatever he wants? To you?

Your blood runs cold and you sit up slowly. You’re dizzy as the silence rings in your ears. You stare across the room, only able to see a glimpse of the door frame.

You don’t know what you’re going to do.

You’re paralysed. You hardly believe it yourself, you don’t think anyone else will either. The thought of explaining it is embarrassing on its own.

You’re being stupid. You need to tell someone. Anyone.

You hear him before he enters. He opens the door, pausing as he lets Aika off the leash. She sniffs around as the door shuts heavily.

Sy appears, a large bag of kibble balanced on one shoulder as he carries a military duffle in his other hand. He drops the latter and brings the former into the kitchen. You stand, hollow as you make yourself move. You go to the doorway to the kitchen and watch him search your cupboards.

“Ladybird needs a bowl,” he says, “she’s hungry.”

“Oh,” you utter dumbly and blink. You’re stuck where you are.

His cheek dimples and he returns his attention to his search. He takes out the pink plastic bowl you use for salad and he uses a measuring cup to scoop out the kibble. You just watch as he puts it on the floor for Aika as she sits patiently.

He stands and she does too, eagerly scarfing down the food, flicking slobber all over your salad bowl. Sy faces you and you flinch as he comes near, reaching for you. You back away.

“Sweetie?” He says, “what’re you doing?”

“I… I…” you rub your arm, “how long are you planning on… staying?”

He scoffs, “what? Ah, come on, sweetie, you’re funny. “

“I’m… I’m serious,” you quaver, “I didn’t… we just met.”

His face falls and so does your heart. His expression turns dire and he crosses his arms. Aika seems to notice his shift and quits her loud chomping. She raises her nose, letting out a low growl. You gulp. He has that same glint in his eye as in the truck when he nearly rear-ended that other driver.

“Sweetie, I told you, I've been watching you all this time. You know, I was your first follower,” he takes a step closer and you take one back. “I know you.”

“Right, uh,” you push your hands together and bend your fingers back, “I understand, it’s just…” you can hardly breathe, “I guess I misunderstood. Of course you can stay, but… you know, I only bought enough groceries for me and… and it’s a small place.”

He considers you. He runs his hand over his beard and exhales loudly. He drops his other arm and tilts his head side to side, cracking the bones, “so we can get nice and snuggly, sweetheart.”

He nears you again, quickly, before you can elude him. He catches you around the back of the head and urges you close. He leans in and kisses your hairline. You freeze and let him. He purrs before he draws away.

“Right, I’ll get cleaned up,” he lets you go, “you can finish your work or… get cozy.”

You nod and stare past him. Aika once more chews loudly as your eyes settle on her straight back. You’re trapped. Your home is now a prison.

You stay like that until you hear the pipes whine and the shower buzzes to life. You glance over, the bathroom door slightly ajar. Mortified, you retreat to the table and sit behind the computer. You know the excuse won’t hold up much longer but you can at least pretend to be busy.

Aika’s claws tap on the tile as you hear her lay near the door. You can’t even run. His loyal guard dog isn’t just keeping people out, she’s keeping you in.

You put your hands on the laptop as you hear the faucet crank off. The scented steam seeps out and dampens the air with the scent of your strawberries and cream soap. You shudder and minimize and maximize the window.

You listen to him. He opens and closes the cabinet several times as he lingers in the bathroom. The door opens and your ears tinge as you focus on the laptop. He steps out as you swirl your fingers on the touch pad.

“I feel better,” he sighs, “how about you, sweetie? Maybe you should have a nice long bath?”

“I’m good,” you utter dully.

“Hope you don’t mind, I used your hairbrush,” he crosses the room.

“No, it’s f–” your eyes flick up on instinct. You swallow as your eyes round. He has only a towel around his waist, the rest of him brazenly bare. “Fine.”

You rip your gaze away and accidentally exit out of the editing software. You try to wipe the image of him from your mind. His thick muscles, the dark hair across his chest and stomach, and over his thick thighs. There’s little left to the imagination or doubt. The sight of him confirms his unbeatable strength.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“N-nothing,” you insist.

“You’re being all shy. What’s going on, huh?” You shake your head as he comes around the table. He presses the laptop shut until you retract your hands. You sit back and look at your hands. “You’ve been working long enough. Come on, sweetie.”

“I… I have a project to finish–”

“And that’s more important? How long have I waited to be with you? Over there in the sh– in the chaos?” He says, offering his large hand, “I got you something. I wanna show it to you.”

“I…” you rasp and peer up at his face, too afraid to look anywhere else. “Okay.”

You give in. Your surrender. He’s a soldier and he’s won the battle. You take his hand and stand up.

He takes you into the front room and leads you to the couch. He stops you in front of it and gestures you to wait. You do and he disappears around the other side of you.

He returns with his duffle bag and puts it in the chair. He keeps his back to you as he unzips it. You peek up and your eyes cling to the scars along his burly back. Just beneath his shoulder and another along his side. Through the fear, you feel a pang of sympathy for him. He must have been through a lot.

“I bought you something,” he says, “when I was driving up.”

He turns and shows you a dainty piece of fabric hanging from his index fingers. You gape at the pale pink bodysuit; flowers in a darker shade trim the corset and the tops of the cups are subtly scalloped. You love the colours but you would never dare to wear anything like that.

“Uh, wow,” is all you can get out.

“Just you know for a special occasion,” he smiles, “it’ll look real nice on you. It’s your colour.” He steps closer as he holds it out to you, “I showed the lady your picture and she said it would be nice on your skin tone.”

You feel like you’re going to faint. Is he really giving you a piece of lingerie? You take it and examine the thin material.

“Obviously, not tonight since we’re settling in and all that,” he chuckles, “but you know… if you wanted to…”

“I’m… I’m going to put this away,” you croak.

You move past him, slowly as if wading through water. You go to the bedroom and cross to the dresser. You stand before it as you stare at the fabric. Your chest aches as you hold a breath inside.

“Ah, still pretty tidy in here,” Sy comments from behind you.

You pull open the top drawer and hide the bodysuit. A shiver rolls through you as you shut it and turn to the intruder. You watch helplessly as he invades every inch of your life.

“You did such a good job, sweetie,” he praises as he nears the bed and plops his bag on it, “watching you clean… it’s admirable how determined you are.”

He reaches in his bag and takes out a stack of folded clothing. You blink as he strides over to the dresser and pulls open a drawer. You sway as you resist the urge to ask what the heck he’s doing. He makes room beside your clothes and shoves his inside.

As he stands, he adjusts the towel hanging lower on his waist than before. You turn away. As much as you don’t like him touching all your things, his nakedness is even more off putting. Most disturbing is his lack of self-awareness. Frankly, it’s frightening.

He unpacks, bit by bit, and rolls open the closet to put his empty bag inside. He goes back to the dresser to shut the top drawer he left open but his hand curls around the top. He dips inside and lifts out a pair of your panties; the ones speckled with printed on bows.

“I like these,” he says, “they’re cute, like you.”

“Thanks, I…” you murmur. “I…” Your mouth is dry and chalky, “I need some water.”

“Aw, sweetie, you look faint,” he drops the panties and approaches you. “Why don’t you sit down?”

He urges you onto the edge of the bed, his hands on your shoulders. He looks down on you as you tilt your head to peer back at him. He looks so big. He keeps his hands on you, gripping tighter, and for a moment, you’re not sure what he’s going to do and you think he is even less certain.

He pulls his hands away and shakes them out, “I’ll get you some water,” he says, “you had a long day, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hum and lower your chin, your hands shaking in your lap.

You did this. You welcomed this man in. More than letting him drive you home or cross the threshold of your apartment, you put yourself online, exposed yourself to the public. You heard the horror stories before, the true ones, but you just never thought it would happen to you.

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sandcastle #follow you anywhere

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tadpoles-and-daydreams · 2 months

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A witchcraft basics doc; update, resource call, interest check, and a possible second doc

Bet most of you didn't even know I was working on this >:D

Yes this is a huge post. It's a lot of things.

So, one of my first posts ever on this blog was me mentioning that a friend of mine had NO clue what they were signing up for when asking for the basics of witchcraft. The google doc I wrote took on a life of its own, and the post did as well when people started asking for it. I still plan to tag said people when I post it, assuming they haven't deactivated. The thing is, this doc had become a proper project, and it took a long time for me to have the motivation to work on it again. Now, though, it seems to me like a damn good way to reconnect to my craft after a rut! (which, by the way, is why I've been offline.)

So, my first post back is for a couple of reasons. For one, if you have any resources you'd think would be useful for beginner witches, feel free to shoot me an ask, DM, or comment/reblog on this post! I'll have a list of things I'm putting in the doc (taking recommendations there as well) at the bottom of this post.

The other thing is that I might end up making a second doc, one that's a little less "101" in vibe. It would have a MAJOR MAJOR UPG warning on it, first off, and I'm not sure whether or not I would be marking any UPG either since this would essentially be a second Grimoire/Book of Shadows for me that would be public to others for the sake of sharing information! I can't say I'd call it "advanced witchcraft" by any means, I'm not very fancy lol, but I don't want the basics doc to get too overwhelming. I do, however, want to scream about random witchcraft topics that interest me. So this is also a bit of an interest check for that, as well as the basics doc.

FINAL NOTE: I fully plan on posting this basics doc before it's done. Some sections will be unwritten or unfinished, because if I wait until I find it "finished" I'll never post it. It's going to be added onto whenever I can, but I feel as though getting it out is the best course of action.

A list of stuff in the doc that I'd take resources on (AKA everything planned in it) with * by anything that will be left unwritten/unfinished on purpose until I know more. I will take resources and recommendations on EVERYTHING though. This is in no particular order:

grounding and centering

VOCAB (intention, intuition, UPG/SPG/VPG, appropriation. probably others I'm forgetting.

candle, plant, crystals and safety* (as well as any other tools one might need safety tips for. This is left completely unwritten as I use very few tools of this type.)

deity work* (the whole debate surrounding when to start, as well as information about it. Will include smth about house rules/boundaries. My work is very casual, I'd love to see different POV's of this! This is by nature left unfinished because deity work is so unique to the witch.)

grimoire/book of shadows

tools of the craft* (common tools and how to use them consumerism in witchcraft, etc.)

cleansing

appropriation* (I don't know near enough about this, I just check what's in my own practice. I would like this to include a list of commonly appropriated closed practices, a definition of appropriation and why it shouldn't be done, open pantheons, and common open practices.)

spellwork*

meditation

where someone could go from here* (including sigils, tarot, crystals bc my friend likes rocks lol, maybe astrology but oh god I have nothing about that it makes my brain hurt just looking at an astrology chart /pos. I will probably make a list of stuff that I could add in this section.)

casual/daily/quick/low energy practices and witchcraft

paganism and witchcraft; overlap, what they are individually, why one might be for you rather than the other, etc.*

there'd be a credit section for anyone who wants to be credited for links/resources at the end! If you send me resources plz specify if you want to be included in that or not.

Things I might include in the second doc if I make it:

the craft and mental health and my experiences with it

things commonly touched on in the community (your deities don't hate you, cycles of inactivity and burnout, other things I'm forgetting rn)

deity-specific things, more specific topics of the craft, etc. yet another reminder that this would all include UPG, possibly unmarked, because it would basically be primarily used to give me motivation to research more.

#witchblr #witchcraft #paganism #pagan witch #witch community #witch blog #deity work #paganblr #eclectic pagan #pagan #beginner witch #baby witch #witch tips #witchy

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annab-nana · 9 months

Note

“Quit touching me, your feet are cold!” surprise me with a character :))

i'm kinda using your 'choose whatever character' requests to write for new people so this one is going to be for matt murdock

warnings: not proofread, use of pet names (baby)

❀ masterlist ❀

you were half-asleep when you cuddled closer to matt for warmth. when winter approached, the apartment always felt colder whether the heater was on or not. matt never noticed the temperature drop or if he did, he never commented on it, but it didn't matter. he was eternally warm anyway.

"quit touching me," he mumbled, nearly asleep as well, "your feet are cold."

you didn't move away. if anything, you moved closer. "i can't help that you have the internal body temperature of molten lava and i have one of ice."

you felt his chest fall with a sigh before he rolled away to get out of bed.

"what are you doing?" you asked while rubbing your eyes and propping yourself up on your elbow.

"saving myself," he said and walked out of the room. you were too tired to get up and follow him so you stayed where you were, rolling over onto his side of the bed because it was warmer.

after a little bit, matt strolled back in and went to the dresser, opening his sock drawer. you watched in curiosity as he grabbed a pair and walked over to you. he took a seat at the end of the bed and pulled the blanket back to grab your foot.

"they're like ice, baby. i don't know how you function," he told you while slipping one of his socks onto your foot. once it was fully on, the heel of the sock went a bit past your actual heel since his socks were a bit bigger than your own, but his socks were also thicker than yours. after he put the other sock on you, he put the blanket back over you and left the room once more, only to come back in with a mug in his hands.

"what's that?" you inquired when you scooted back to let him lay on his side again.

"tea," he stated when he got in bed with you again, pulling you to cuddle into his side. "to help warm you up."

you took the mug from his hands and took a sip, feeling the warm liquid fall down your throat. after a few more sips, its warmth spread throughout your chest. as you drank the tea, matt let his hand rub up and down your arm, the friction from it providing you some heat as well.

"thank you," you told him as you reached across him to place the mug on his nightstand. you, then, settled yourself against his chest and pressed a kiss to the patch of skin closest to your lips.

"are you any warmer?"

"yeah," you sighed, content.

he smiled, though you couldn't see it. "good."

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new or join the tag list here!

tag list: @marjorie189

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock blurbs #blurbs #marjorie189 #❀ marjorie ❀#winter wonderland sleepover ✧*:･ﾟ

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kingofbodyrolls · 6 months

Text

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | nine

🐴Chapter summary: You haven’t talked to Jimin in months— he has been successful in avoiding you since he saw Yoongi kiss you. But when a charity gala forces you together, will you erupt like an active volcano? 🐴Chapter title: Take the Rain Away 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: yelling and curse words 🤭 Jin’s pink slipper is finally here (though it’s not him wielding it lol) 🩴 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 8.2k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

🛑 psa to all you lovely people on the taglist, I’ve seen that some of you aren’t interacting… I’m wondering if you’re still reading or not— do you wish to be removed from the taglist? It’s okay if you don’t like it anymore, I can remove you if you want to 🛑

🐴Now playing 💿 “Take the Rain Away” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: can you tell I wrote this chapter while severely depressed (as I did the previous)? 🥲 But, it was very easy to channel all my feelings into it, so I wrote it in like a day while crying most of the time. But here it is! Also, again I’m sorry. I’m really going through it and dealing with my depression, so I’m sorry if I take longer to reply… I do look at your messages though! I don’t know, life is hard and I’m waiting to get a referral from my doctor… all that shit takes such a freaking long time! But yeah, I’m still struggling, but I’m doing my best to hang in there; bad days and a few good days finally. Thank you all so much for reading and for sticking with the story, tbh there were a few times in the latest chapters where I just wanted to delete it all and stop posting.. But yeah, thank fuck🫂 Also… I really hope you’ll love the next chapter and please don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts in either a comment or a reblog ☀️💦 🐴Author’s note #2: I'm sorry… today I'm feeling extremely emotional and anxious. It’s making me cry and my head is so heavy with a lot of thoughts… I hope you still like the chapter, right now I’m afraid it’s crap, so I’ll go hide (don't mind me, this is 50% my anxiety speaking). See ya on Thursday lovelies!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

“Take the rain away Take the rain away Give me hope Give me love Make it sweet from above Take the rain away Oh take the rain away Give me praise Give me heart Take the rain away”- ‘Take the Rain Away’ by Rebecca Lavelle

The rain pelts on your windows, a rhythmic symphony against the glass that serves as the melodic backdrop to your dance with the paintbrush. Each stroke elicits a clench in your heart, a poignant harmony with the emotions that escape onto the canvas. Despite a tear finding its way down your cheek, you persist. The canvas becomes a vibrant tapestry, weaving through an array of red hues, from the delicate blush of pink to the profound richness of vermillion. In this intimate dance, you surrender to the guidance of the brush, allowing the strokes to tell a story only your heart understands.

The paintbrush becomes the voice of your unspoken thoughts, an ethereal extension of your mind that guides you through an escape. It whisks you away to an alternate reality, a place where joy and serenity prevail. Yet, as you gaze upon your canvas, the illusion shatters – a mosaic of red tones, a stark reflection of your inner turmoil. You’re aware of the truth it conceals, reluctant to acknowledge the lingering ache for a man who remains silent, a man whose choices have been clear and that choice wasn’t you. But why the heck would he decide to date someone that looks like you?

The baffling revelation still eludes you, a persistent enigma that has gnawed at your thoughts for days since the girls disclosed it. The meaning behind it remains a puzzle, and you find yourself grappling with the uncertainty. There’s an urge to confront Jimin, to seek answers, but the apprehension holds you back.

Instead, you retreat to the solace of your bedroom, losing yourself in the strokes of your paintbrush. Each canvas becomes a testament to your emotional turmoil, saturated in shades of red that echo anger and sadness. The thought of whether anyone would buy these artworks fades into insignificance; the therapeutic process takes precedence, offering a semblance of peace in the midst of your inner storm.

For a solid week, the relentless rain has played its melancholic symphony, a constant companion to your shifting moods. While you don’t inherently despise the rain, its prolonged presence begins to cast a subtle veil of gloom. The weather, once a neutral backdrop, now becomes a weight on your shoulders, a persistent force tugging at the edges of your mind, leaving a trace of subtle melancholy in its wake.

Perhaps a twinge of bitterness creeps in, accompanied by an admission of jealousy as you observe Jungkook becoming a frequent overnight guest. Their shared moments are anything but discreet, the resonance of their love making echoing through the walls. You’ve mastered the art of drowning out those sounds, resorting to nocturnal strolls when needed. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for the same intimacy, but with Jimin.

You sigh, feeling utterly deflated. Life never goes the way to want it to. Why can’t you just have something good happening for once?

In the dead of night, raindrops patter on your skin as you venture out once more for a solitary walk. The rhythmic percussion of raindrops becomes a welcome reprieve, drowning out the less-than-subtle sounds emanating from your sister’s room. Ugh. it’s just great— now you can’t stand people in love anymore! Despite your genuine happiness for your sister and Jungkook, witnessing their affectionate gestures becomes a bitter pill to swallow. The kisses, the embraces, the whispered words—all of it, a poignant reminder of what you yearn for with Jimin.

If only you could have that.

You know that jealousy is a nasty feeling and it leaves you feeling bitter inside.

The rain penetrates your jacket, seeping through to your skin—a subtle reminder of your lack of preparation. Cursing under your breath, you navigate through the yard, each step burdened with the weight of your drenched attire. As you reach one of the paddocks, darkness envelops you, the atmosphere dense and humid, mirroring the warmth and heaviness echoing in your chest. Yet, you yearn for this feeling to dissipate, much like the wishful thought that the rain will cease, allowing the sun to once again cast its hopeful rays upon you.

Lifting your gaze to the sky, the night sky unfolds above you, a vast canvas adorned with innumerable stars shimmering in their cosmic dance. A sigh escapes your lips, a blend of appreciation and melancholy. The celestial display, though undeniably beautiful, carries a bittersweet weight tonight, stirring emotions that twirl like distant constellations in the vast expanse above.

With the rain as your shield, you ponder whether it’s safe to return inside again or not. Opting to let the rhythmic dance of raindrops cloak you further, you choose the soothing drumbeat of rain over the potential moans echoing through the walls. It’s better to give them more time to finish whatever they are doing, instead of going back and having to listen to it.

As the rain clings to your clothes and skin, an uncomfortable yet strangely welcomed sensation, you yearn for more than just the soothing touch of the downpour. Hoping against hope, you wish the rain could wash away the turmoil in your chest, or perhaps, deliver to you the one thing you crave and need the most—love.

Jimin.

In the recesses of your heart, the truth echoes loudly— he is the one meant for you, and the regret gnaws at your soul for not confessing your feelings earlier. The fear of disrupting and jeopardizing his current relationship hangs heavy, a bitter pill you swallow. His decision is made, and you must bear the weight of it.

Frustration clenches your hands as you yearn for a conversation, a connection—anything to breach the walls he’s created, leaving you to wonder why he’s avoiding you or won’t acknowledge you at all.

As your breath quickens, tears intertwine with the raindrops on your cheeks, a blurred fusion where your own sorrows become indistinguishable from the weeping sky.

Your clothes cling to you, saturated by the persistent rain, and you decide it’s time to retreat from the star-studded night. With a silent farewell to the celestial display, you make your way back into the house, yearning for the solace of a quiet room, and silently hoping your sister and Jungkook have concluded their love making.

As you open the door and traverse the hallway, the muffled exchange of hushed voices reaches your ears, causing your heart to sink. Determined, you press on and step into your bedroom, conveniently situated next to your sister’s. Lately, you’ve cursed this proximity, contemplating the idea of seeking refuge downstairs in the guestroom.

The rhythmic creaking of the bed and muted moans persist, making you release a weary sigh, hastily snatching your pillow to shield your ears from the intimate sounds infiltrating the air.

Morning arrives, and you’re weary, having fallen asleep with the pillow cocooned around your head. Your once-neat hair now resembles a bird’s nest, and your body, feeling rigid and sore, yearns for the elusive embrace of a restful night’s sleep.

Fatigue clinging to every step, you drag your weary body to the bathroom, performing the mundane rituals of brushing teeth and washing your face. The mirror mercilessly reflects the under-eye bags, taunting reminders of restless nights. A scoff escapes your lips as you splash water on your face, a futile attempt to shake off the lingering exhaustion and rouse yourself from the morning haze.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Jungkook steps out of your sister’s room, wearing a sheepish yet gentle smile. Weariness etched on your features, you respond with a weary nod, acknowledging his presence.

Apology etched in his expression, he inquires, “Did we disturb your sleep?”

Concern lines his face, yet beneath the surface, a subtle smirk plays on his lips as his eyes sweep over your tired form.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice, though deep down, you acknowledge that ’fine’ is a distant echo from the truth.

“We’ll keep it down,” he assures, a warm smile gracing his features as he absentmindedly scratches his head. A soft chuckle escapes you, an acknowledgment of the genuine sweetness and kindness that radiate from him.

“Jungkook, really, you don’t have to worry. I’ll grab some earplugs or whatever,” you laugh, the sound devoid of true joy. Despite your attempts at humor, each forced smile or chuckle only serves as a reminder of the hollowness and sorrow settling in your chest.

Jungkook gives you a reluctant nod, a silent acknowledgment of your weariness and the deflated emotions you carry. With a heavy heart, you retreat into your room to get dressed, the weight of the morning and the unresolved thoughts lingering in the air.

As you descend and enter the kitchen, the comforting aroma of Ha-rin’s nearly finished breakfast fills the air. Offering a hand, you assist her in setting up the table in the cozy dining room. The rarity of having everyone gather for a meal is not lost on you; usually, you’re consumed by solitary, hurried bites as the demands of the ranch beckon. However, today unfolds differently, marked by an unusual slowness in the rhythm of ranch life.

“You look tired,” she observes with a gentle concern in her voice as the two of you collaborate in setting the table. A soft chuckle escapes you, a mixture of acknowledgment and self-deprecating humor. It’s as if they’ve pointed out the obvious—yes, you’re aware you don’t look your best, but must they bring attention to it?

“Thanks. Jungkook and Jessi kept me up again,” you respond with a weariness that seeps into both your voice and posture, a tiredness underscored by a stifled yawn.

As you turn your head, Jungkook and Jessi stand in the doorframe, wearing apologetic expressions that mirror the remorse evident in their eyes.

“We’re sorry,” your sister offers a sincere smile as she pulls out a chair, settling down. Jungkook follows suit, immediately diving into the meal with an eagerness that hints at his hunger.

“It’s fine,” you brush off their apologies with weary eyes and a nonchalant wave. “At least you’re getting some,” you jest, but an awkward hush descends upon the room. The atmosphere turns dense, and their uncertain expressions reveal they’re unsure how to react. “Don’t mind me; I’m just... frustrated. Not at you, though!” you quickly reassure them, taking a seat and joining in the meal.

For a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence descends, wrapping around the room like an unwelcome guest. It’s the kind of awkward stillness that feels stifling and peculiar, and you find yourself yearning for someone to break it, to utter anything to shatter the tension lingering in the air.

“We actually have something to tell you,” your sister begins, and as you meet her eyes, you notice a sparkle of excitement, maybe even love, dancing in them. Her happiness is contagious; a radiant smile graces her lips, and a delicate pink hue adorns her cheeks, complementing her beautifully. It’s a sight that warms your heart, pulling a genuine smile from you in return.

Jungkook gently moves his hand over Jessi’s, giving it a tender squeeze, and his eyes gleam with a radiant light, an unmistakable shimmer of affection, you presume. Their laughter dances in the air, and their shared smiles are like a silent declaration of the love that binds them.

“We’ve been meaning to share something with you,” your sister begins, her voice laced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Jungkook and I are dating,” she announces, and you can’t help but feel your smile broaden. You observe the subtle exchange of glances between them, a blend of happiness and nervousness, as if unsure of how you’ll react to this newfound chapter in their relationship.

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, and you can’t help but beam, your emotions laid bare. “That makes me so happy to hear!” A single tear escapes, and you playfully scold yourself, but deep down, you’re overwhelmed with joy for your sister and Jungkook.

Your sister’s concern deepens as she leans in, her eyes reflecting worry. “Are you okay with this? You seem a bit sad…”

With tear-streaked cheeks, you point to your clearly emotional face, chuckling through the joyful tears. “This? I’m just thrilled for you. I just... wish I had that too. But I’m genuinely happy for you.” Sniffling, you manage a smile, though your plate is nearly obscured by your overwhelming emotions.

Jungkook, your sister, and Ha-rin exchange concerned glances, but wisely refrain from prying further. You believe they’ve caught on; your weeks of moping and the emotional rollercoaster have left little room for secrets. It’s ridiculous, you scold yourself internally, navigating the intricate maze of your own emotions. The irony of grieving a relationship that never truly existed weighs heavy on your chest, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for what could have been.

Genuine happiness radiates within you for their newfound relationship, and you don’t perceive it as strange. Sure, there was a fleeting encounter with Jungkook, as Jessi pointed out, but it was just that—a passing moment. You never harbored romantic feelings for him; your joy stems from seeing them genuinely happy together. Yet, an undeniable pang echoes in your heart, a yearning for that elusive connection you witness in them, to have that special someone— and that someone is Jimin.

Caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you grapple with the uncertainty of your feelings for Jimin. Every attempt to navigate this emotional maze has hit a dead end – avoiding him, attempting conversations that fall on deaf ears, and even embracing silence only to be met with his intense gaze.

The enigma that is Jimin remains beyond your comprehension. Your desire for him lingers, leaving you in a perplexing predicament with no clear path forward.

“Relax your shoulders,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the rhythmic sounds of hooves against the earth, offering guidance as a fiery-red mare gracefully circles you in the pen. Perched atop the fence, Yoongi, accompanied by Hoseok, shares his insights. Lately, with the challenging task of taming wild horses, Hoseok has become an invaluable ally, contributing his skill and energy to the shared pursuit.

His involvement extends beyond mere assistance; he actively contributes to the preparations, occasionally joining your rides and, on other occasions, simply sharing moments as you engage in the day’s tasks. Today, he observes with keen interest, his presence an unspoken support in the rhythm of your work.

You attempt to find your focus, and you let your shoulders sag, reminding yourself of the importance of a calm and clear mind in handling the unpredictable nature of the horses. Despite your efforts, stress and frustration linger, making the task more challenging. Today seems particularly difficult. Your gaze repeatedly drifts toward Yoongi and Hoseok, seated closely. The air between them carries a subtle tension, Yoongi fidgeting with his shirt, an uncharacteristic unease marking his demeanor. It’s funny how being around someone you like can change the way you behave.

You let out a soft chuckle, finding Yoongi’s crush on Hoseok endearing. The uncertainty of whether Hoseok reciprocates, or even what his preferences are— if he’s into men, women or both. You have no clue, but you genuinely hope that Hoseok shares Yoongi’s feelings; knowing that Yoongi could use a guy like Hoseok in his life.

The red mare’s whinny echoes through the air as it breaks into a wild gallop, gracefully navigating the pen with powerful bucks. This one, a recent addition, demands more patience than its counterparts. However, you embrace the challenge, recognizing that each horse is unique, and you’re willing to invest the time needed to build trust and understanding.

You let the spirited mare run around the pen, attempting to divert your attention from its antics. Instead, your gaze returns to the two men on the fence. They’re engaged in casual conversation, possibly about work, but the genuine smile on Yoongi’s face has an inexplicable effect on your heart. Hoseok’s eyes light up at every word from Yoongi, and it feels as if your heart could burst into a garden of blossoming flowers. In that moment, you yearn for a connection as beautiful and captivating as the one unfolding before you.

As your gaze drifts, it travels up to the yard, settling on the house that holds the thoughts of the man who occupies your every waking moment—Jimin. The silence between you two persists, leaving you in a state of anticipation. Every now and then, you catch glimpses of him with Deiji, their laughter echoing through the air. Despite the small flower in your chest withering at the sight, you remind yourself it’s okay, even though anger still lingers.

“Watch out!” Hoseok shouts, leaping down from the fence with Yoongi in tow. Before you can react, you find yourself sprawled on the ground with a thud. A frustrated groan escapes your lips as you rub your back, rolling over to your side.

You spot Yoongi approaching the red mare, hands raised in the air, skillfully redirecting its attention away from you. Meanwhile, Hoseok is already down on his knees beside you. As your eyes flutter open, a wave of confusion washes over you.

Concern fills Hoseok’s voice as he asks, “Are you okay?”

Your gaze meets his, lingering confusion evident. Meanwhile, Yoongi persists in his attempt to soothe the red mare, now employing a gentler approach, his words whispered in a hushed tone.

Your eyes lock with Hoseok’s as you ask, “What happened?”

His outstretched hand becomes your anchor, pulling you up into a sitting position, your fingers instinctively rubbing your sore back again.

His words hit you, “The horse ran you over,” accompanied by a subtle chuckle. Yet, his eyes reveal a deeper concern as he carefully scans you, ensuring that you’re genuinely okay.

You glance around in confusion at the sandy expanse of the pen.

“It did?” you inquire, perplexed, your gaze shifting down to the ground where you find yourself. You must have blacked out or something. You assess your body, feeling a general lack of pain, at least not as much as you expected.

“I think I’m fine,” you assure Hoseok, allowing him to help you up as you stand. You dust off the sand from your pants and shirt, trying to regain a sense of composure.

Yoongi, having calmed the mare, walks over to you. “Are you sure you’re fine?” he asks, raising a brow as he looks you up and down. You chuckle, dismissing any concern with a wave of your hand. There’s no need for a fuss over a simple fall.

“I’m fine. I was just pushed. No biggie!” you declare, gesturing with your hands to reassure them that everything is under control.

“Maybe we should take a look at you at the house?” Hoseok suggests, and you instantly flinch, a wave of apprehension washing over you.

“Oh god no. I’m fine, and I really don’t want to go in there,” you state firmly, a pressed smile on your face. The last thing you need is to see Jimin with Deiji again; better to stay clear of them, as you’ve been doing recently. Both Yoongi and Hoseok laugh, and you notice the way they look at each other, as if there’s something you’ve missed. For a split second, you feel left out before joining in the laughter yourself.

You ask Yoongi to finish working on the red mare while you and Hoseok take a seat on top of the fence. From there, you observe him letting the horse run about, much like you did earlier. Yoongi always appears so relaxed when he’s working. His ability to keep his mind sealed off and clear during tasks is incredible. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for you or Hoseok. The dynamic between the three of you is unique, each with your own way of approaching the work at hand.

The happy-go-lucky man next to you appears captivated by watching Yoongi work; his eyes shine as bright as the sun. The way he holds his breath, as if the air is too thick with something, sparks a glimmer of hope within you. Perhaps it’s because he might harbor feelings for Yoongi.

You meticulously apply eyeliner and mascara, ensuring you look flawless. Returning to your room, your eyes fall upon the elegant purple satin gown laid out on your bed. The floor-length attire boasts a sweetheart neckline, perfectly complemented by a pair of carefully chosen low heels that you gracefully slip into.

Before stepping out, you steal a moment to gaze at your reflection in the mirror, and what stares back at you is nothing short of captivating.

As you step outside your door, you encounter your sister, adorned in a floor-length gown of deep blue that borders on the verge of velvety blackness.

“Wow, you look stunning,” you compliment your sister, and she responds with a soft smile, her fingers nervously dancing with the edges of her purse.

“Thanks, you look incredible too,” she smiles warmly, and together you descend the stairs to join the other girls.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin await you downstairs, adorned in stunning gowns for the night’s gala in town. The charity event, featuring an auction, aims to raise funds for the local hospital’s children’s ward. Ara stuns in a radiant red dress, Soo-ah elegantly dons baby blue, prompting you to ponder if it’s her favorite color, and Ha-rin exudes sophistication in a black gown. The quartet, a vision of beauty, gathers in the kitchen, the air buzzing with excitement for the glamorous night ahead.

“Ready for an enchanting evening, everyone?” you inquire, casting a smile across the group, your eyes dancing with anticipation.

“Yeah!” Soo-ah cheers with infectious joy, and without a second thought, you all rush to the door, hitch up your dresses, and dash into the yard, the relentless rain already kissing your gowns with its playful touch.

You hastily hop into the car, and Jessi swiftly ignites the engine, reversing out of the yard. The rain’s symphony dances on the windshield, while the sun gracefully sets, painting the sky in captivating shades of gold and pink.

Jessi navigates the road with precision, and the group settles into a comfortable ease. Casual conversations and light-hearted jokes fill the air, yet your mind strays elsewhere, tethered to thoughts of Jimin. Anticipating his presence at the gala, you resolve to keep a careful distance, aware that the crowd might offer a shield for the avoidance you seek.

Navigating the rain-drenched roads adds extra time to your journey into town, but finally, you pull up in front of City Hall. The building itself seems to have donned its best attire for the occasion, adorned with banners and a vibrant red carpet that unfurls invitingly through the grand entrance.

As Jessi skillfully parks the car, you hastily step out, seeking refuge under the overhang of the building to escape the relentless rain. A quick scan of the parking lot reveals the presence of Jimin and Jungkook’s trucks, instantly causing a pang in your chest. The prospect of encountering Jimin tonight tightens your heart, and you brace yourself for the emotional storm that might follow.

“Ugh I fucking hate the rain,” Soo-ah groans beside you, her disdain for the downpour resonating with your own sentiments. Your chuckle, a small escape from the damp reality, lingers in the misty air.

Ensuring everyone is prepared, you lead the way into the grand hall. The opulence hits you instantly – a symphony of golds and reds creating a lavish spectacle. The vast space is adorned with small, round tables draped in rich red cloth, each topped with flickering candles. Towards the front, a podium commands attention, surrounded by carefully curated art pieces. Among them, proudly displayed, are a couple of your own paintings, awaiting their moment in tonight’s charitable auction.

Approaching the guys, you’re met with a sight to behold—Jungkook impeccably clad in a black tux adorned with subtle stripes, while Yoongi and Hoseok exude charm in their tuxedos, each strand of hair meticulously styled. Embracing them warmly, your attention shifts to Jimin, not far off, accompanied by his stunning girlfriend. The duo radiates elegance, and you can’t help but curse Jimin silently for his undeniable allure— his ass looks so good in those pants. His tux drapes his frame flawlessly, accentuating every curve, and you catch yourself practically drooling before quickly averting your eyes.

Spotting his gaze directed your way, you respond with a silent nod. Despite your desire to keep your distance, you choose the path of politeness, offering this small acknowledgment in the crowded elegance of the gala.

The room swells with a mix of familiar faces and strangers. Across the expanse, you catch sight of Namjoon and Seokjin at a neighboring table. With a warm smile, you extend a friendly wave in their direction.

As the auction commences, you navigate through the crowd toward a table, silently grateful for opting for low heels to spare your feet. A glass of champagne in hand, you join Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, and Ara at a table. Meanwhile, Ha-rin has engaged in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Seokjin across the room, their friendship evident even from a distance.

Jessi and Jungkook are stationed at a table alongside Jimin and Deiji, and a scoff escapes you when your gaze lands on Jimin. The silence between you two remains, a lack of surprise settling in as a familiar companion at this point.

He appears incredibly alluring, like a full-course meal, and something stirs within your veins—a concoction of anger and jealousy, perhaps. The desire to speak to him, to feel his touch, clashes with the urge to tear him apart. Later, the thought of dancing with him lingers, but the awkwardness stemming from his radio silence and the undeniable truth that he isn’t yours keeps you at a wary distance.

The auctioneer’s voice becomes a distant murmur, his words lost in the whirl of paintings and various items on the stand. Your attention, however, is not tethered to the auction; instead, it’s ensnared by the intensity in Jimin’s gaze. The way his eyes lock onto yours mirrors a familiarity, reminiscent of the look he gave you weeks ago during Jessi’s cast celebration dinner. The unspoken depth in his eyes unsettles you, inducing a subtle sweat, nervous energy, and an involuntary gulp.

With no refuge in sight, you attempt to anchor yourself in the rhythm of your heartbeat, a desperate bid to quell the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Indeed— sin personified gazes your way, but what does it matter? His silence, his refusal to engage, grates on your last nerves. You know you’re at an auction right now, and it would be weird to talk at this event, but dammit, he could just come over and ask you for a talk, pull you off to another room. Anything, really.

A sly smile graces your lips as Yoongi playfully nudges your shoulder, and you, in turn, lean into the comfort of his presence. A subtle shift in Jimin’s gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, the intensity of his eyes deepening as the unspoken tension weaves through the air.

Hoseok playfully nudges you as your vibrant red painting graces the auction stage. Surprisingly, an elegant elderly lady becomes enamored with it, bidding generously and claiming it as her own. Gratitude swells within you, knowing that the proceeds will contribute to a worthy cause.

Jimin’s unwavering gaze continues to linger on you, an irritation bubbling within. You question why he can’t redirect his attention to his girlfriend or, at the very least, the ongoing auction.

The auction unfolds in the background, but your focus remains unyielding to the bidding, stolen by the persistent gaze of the blonde man. His intense gaze feels like he’s stripping you down with his eyes. Yet you remain nonchalant, indifferent to his silent advances.

During a brief respite, as delectable appetizers circulate the room, you discreetly savor the miniature delights, determinedly diverting your attention from Jimin as per your original strategy.

Abruptly, you interject into the group’s conversation, “Is there something on my face?” Their perplexed gazes pivot towards you, uncertain of the sudden inquiry.

As you munch on a bite of food, you nonchalantly toss in, “Jimin keeps giving me these intense stares, and I just don’t get it.”

Yoongi and Hoseok share a knowing chuckle, their eyes reflecting a camaraderie that Soo-ah and Ara immediately catch onto, shooting you looks of playful understanding.

“No, there’s nothing on your face,” Soo-ah says with a teasing smile, her words dripping with a playful undertone.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Ara suggests, her voice carrying a gentle note of encouragement, like a flicker of a candle in the dim room of uncertainty.

“He doesn’t want to talk, and I hardly think this is the place for it…” you say, the words hanging in the air like a fleeting sigh, drowned out by the buzz of conversations around you as you take a thoughtful sip of your champagne.

You redirect your attention to the auctioneer, a black vase taking center stage this time. As the bidding unfolds, you indulge in another sip of champagne, feeling the effervescent bubbles dance teasingly across your tongue, a subtle distraction from the tension in the room.

As the final gavel falls, signaling the end of the auction, a wave of relief washes over you. The speakers come alive with soulful melodies, casting a warm ambiance over the room. To your surprise, the atmosphere becomes infectious, and you observe couples from other tables swaying to the rhythmic tunes. A chuckle escapes you, realizing you’ve never been one to dance at such formal events. Nevertheless, the music’s allure beckons, and you find yourself succumbing to the rhythm, ready to embrace the unexpected joy of the night.

Yoongi seizes your hands, whisking you onto the dance floor in a whirl of laughter and joy. The dance is a delightful blend of fun and friendship, his every move resonating with an infectious rhythm. As you twirl under the dazzling lights, you catch Hoseok’s gaze fixed on Yoongi. Leaning in, you share a whispered observation, “Hoseok’s eyes are practically glued to you, you know?”

His laughter reverberates through the air, a melody that resonates with a warmth you find comforting. “I know,” he chuckles, the sound a harmonious note in the symphony of the evening.

As he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes, you can’t help but reciprocate with a grateful smile. He twirls you around, a dance of understanding, letting you sway out of his embrace only to draw you back in. Oh, the dance you share with him is a temporary refuge, a wishful escape from the reality you yearn to change. However, your joy falters as you catch Jimin’s gaze; his eyes, far from angelic, hold a mysterious intensity that pierces through the rhythm of the music.

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans in, “Jimin’s got his eyes on you too.”

“I’ve felt his eyes on me since we walked through that door,” you admit with a sigh, your gaze wandering over the dance floor where your sister twirls with Jungkook, and Ha-rin gracefully dances with Seokjin.

“You should consider talking to him,” he suggests again, but you dismiss the idea with a subtle shake of your head.

“I doubt it would make any difference, honestly,” you laugh, pressing your body into Yoongi’s. His warmth envelops you, and for a brief moment, in his embrace, everything feels like it might just be okay.

Taking a step back from Yoongi, you express the need for a break. As you make your way back to the table to sip on more champagne, you observe Yoongi inviting Hoseok to dance, a proposal met with a willing agreement. Soo-ah joins you at the table, casting a gentle gaze in your direction.

“You danced with Hoseok?” You inquire, your gaze softened with curiosity.

“I did,” she admits with a smile. “He’s a really nice guy.” You nod, acknowledging her words. However, you can’t shake the understanding that someone in your circle might end up with a bruised heart, considering both Yoongi and Soo-ah have affections for Hoseok.

As you watch Hoseok and Yoongi gracefully moving on the dance floor, impressed by Hoseok’s skilled control over his body, a genuine smile plays on your lips. However, that fleeting moment of joy is interrupted as you sense the weight of brown eyes piercing into your back. Turning around, you find Jimin dancing intimately with Deiji, the intensity of his gaze making your smile fade.

You observe Jimin and Deiji dancing cheek to cheek, their bodies pressed tightly together, making you scoff and redirect your attention to Soo-ah. Just as you try to shake off the unsettling sight, a tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts. You turn around to find Hoseok, his bright smile inviting, “Do you want to dance?”

You seize his hand, allowing him to whisk you onto the dance floor, reminiscent of how Yoongi did earlier. Hoseok effortlessly twirls you around, evoking laughter that bubbles up from deep within. Knowing you’re not the most adept dancer, you surrender to his guidance, and he proves to be exceptionally skilled at leading you through the dance.

Amid the enjoyment, a surge of audacity overcomes you, prompting an uncharacteristic move. “What do you think about Yoongi?” The words spill out unexpectedly, catching Hoseok off guard, a reaction vividly displayed on his face. A chuckle escapes you as you revel in the spontaneity of the moment.

“What do you mean?” he asks, catching off guard.

Unable to contain your mischievous grin, you lean in and tease, “You know he likes you, right?” As the words escape your lips, you’re conscious of the trust you might be breaking but convinced that mingling is the key to any potential connection. Hoseok, though initially shocked, isn’t repulsed as you feared. Instead, his eyes widen, and a subtle pink tint adorns his cheeks, leaving you wondering how he’ll respond.

“He does?” Hoseok stammers, caught off guard and missing a beat. Your chuckle only intensifies as you nod in confirmation. The revelation lingers in the air, and you sense that you might not have to do much more to set things in motion.

As you continue to dance, a comfortable silence envelops you both before Hoseok breaks it, his words hanging in the air, “You know Jimin likes you too.”

You roll your eyes, well aware of the situation. “Yeah, not much to do about it when he has a girlfriend,” you admit with a wry smile. Despite Hoseok’s good intentions, you’ve firmly decided not to act on your feelings while Jimin is still in a relationship. It’s a line you won’t cross.

You dance a little longer until Yoongi is at your side again, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his embrace. He wears a curious smile as he asks, “What were you talking about with Hoseok?”

You chuckle softly, “I told him.”

He glances at you, a puzzled expression on his face, “Told him what?”

“That you’ve got a crush on him,” you declare, matter-of-factly, in a hushed tone meant just for the two of you. However, with the rain tapping on the roof and the music playing, it’s a challenge to catch every word.

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t exactly radiate joy, but there’s a subtle softness to his features, an almost-relaxed demeanor. He releases a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair in apparent exasperation.

“I’m sorry. I know it isn’t my place to say anything. But he actually seemed intrigued!” You share, your words riding the rhythm of the music as you sway with Yoongi. His tension eases, and he responds with a soft expression, a subtle acknowledgment of the revelation.

“It’s okay,” he breathes out, “it wasn’t your place, but it’s fine.”

You lean into him, embracing him gently and offering a reassuring pat on the back. In that moment, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you once again. The repetitive stares leave you puzzled. Why is he focused on you instead of his girlfriend?

You feel your heart quicken, your nostrils flare, and your hands clench around Yoongi’s back. He pulls you away, confusion etched on his face, questioning what’s wrong. But you see red. It’s reached a boiling point. The anger simmers inside you, consuming every inch of your being, and with determination, you let go of Yoongi and stride purposefully over to Jimin and Deiji.

Standing before them, you take a deep inhale, a turbulent storm of emotions brewing beneath your skin. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?” Your voice slices through the ambient sounds, a piercing question that fractures the comfortable cocoon around Jimin and Deiji. Jimin slowly turns to face you, his expression shifting from surprise to a somber acknowledgment, as if he’s been caught in the act of something he’d rather keep hidden.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” you hiss, your hands tightly clenched at your sides, radiating with anger.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” you raise your voice, the anger boiling so fiercely within you that you feel breathless as you unleash your words.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab your finger accusingly at her, and she flinches, uncertain about how to react. Jimin simply gazes at you, as though you’ve lost your marbles—and maybe you have, because the words keep pouring out.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You huff, the waves of anger radiating from your body. The sudden realization hits you that the entire room is now fixated on the spectacle, and an eerie silence envelops the space, punctuated only by the intensity of your heated words.

Yoongi steps up beside you, a silent force attempting to ground you, but you refuse to yield. The torrent of anger surges within you, and with an accusatory finger, you unleash your fury on Jimin.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your words, laden with venom, spill from your lips in a torrent of conflicting emotions. You seethe, feeling strangely lighter, though the room spins around you. Yoongi releases your arm, his face a mix of shock, and confusion mirrors the peculiar glances from those around you, leaving you wondering why everyone is now looking at you even more strangely than before.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you hiss at Jimin, catching him off guard. Deiji wears a displeased expression, and Jimin’s features soften in a way that leaves you utterly bewildered.

Deiji appears visibly irritated, and you’re left wondering if her frustration is directed at you or if she shares your exasperation for Jimin. As the tension simmers, Jimin unexpectedly breaks into laughter, his audacity fueling the fire of your anger. The laughter grates on your nerves, aggravating you further. Why on earth is he finding amusement in this situation? There’s nothing remotely funny about it, intensifying the blaze of your already fiery emotions.

You jab your accusatory finger at him once more, your voice cutting through the tension, “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!”

Your voice may carry the tone of an angered child denied its desires, but you couldn’t care less. In this moment, you’re finally confronting Jimin, even if the conversation seems to be one-sided.

You observe as he parts his lips, ready to utter words that you don’t wish to hear.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” You hiss in frustration, ready to pivot away from the awkward situation, aware of the collective gaze of all the guests upon you. As you start to turn, Jimin’s firm grip on your wrist stops you, compelling you to face him again.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” You shriek, wrenching your arm free, and storming out of the building. The erratic thumping of your heart resonates like a dissonant ringing in your ears, mirroring the chaos within.

Gasping frantically for air, your breath catching in turbulent spasms, you step outside, feeling as if your body is unraveling at the seams. Collapsing on the stairs, you surrender to the tremors of anger pulsating through you. Attempting to regain composure, you strive to slow your breath, but the task proves as challenging as holding back a tempest.

Regret floods your senses, a torrent of remorse for every word unleashed in the heat of anger, half of them lost to the haze of fury. The weight of all eyes fixed upon you, their gaze searing into your soul, amplifies the desire for the ground to open up and engulf you whole.

What transpired in that room, and how did it all spiral into such chaos?

A symphony of hooves shatters the tranquility of your peaceful slumber, jerking you awake. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you hurry to the window to witness the commotion outside. In the distance, a captivating spectacle unfolds — a wild herd of horses, led by the majestic brown stallion, thundering across the landscape. These creatures have become frequent visitors, drawing nearer to the ranch with each passing day. Curiosity grips you; what secrets do these untamed spirits carry, and why do they venture closer to your haven?

With a contented sigh, you wearily make your way back to your bed, sinking into its welcoming embrace. A spontaneous yawn escapes, accompanied by a luxurious stretch that sends waves of relaxation through your well-rested body. The simple joy of a peaceful night’s sleep settles over you, like a comforting blanket enveloping your weary soul.

Entering the bathroom, you brace yourself for the day ahead. Under the rejuvenating spray of a quick shower, you allow the cascading water to serve as a cleansing force, washing away not only yesterday’s mistakes but also the lingering regret that clings to your every thought. The steam clouds your reflection, a metaphorical veil between the past and the potential for a better today.

The bracing cold water jolts you into wakefulness, a refreshing prelude to the day ahead. As rivulets of water cascade down, you ensure every trace of sleep is banished, emerging invigorated and ready for the rigors of another day on the ranch. Donning a weathered shirt, worn-in pants, and your trusty boots, you complete the ensemble with the signature hat that shields your face from the sun’s relentless gaze. Descending the stairs, you find Ara in the kitchen, skillfully crafting a sandwich for her morning appetite.

“Hey there!” you chirp, a grin lighting up your face, buoyed by the rare joy of a restful night’s sleep. A subtle acknowledgment forms in your mind—thankful for your sister and Jungkook opting for a night at his place, granting you the serenity that fueled the upbeat mood.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Ara inquires, her attention focused on putting away the butter, as if carefully choosing the moment to meet your eyes.

“Actually, leave it out. I could use one too,” you interject, and Ara obligingly retrieves the butter, finally meeting your gaze. “As for how I’m doing—just fine.”

She hands you the butter and a knife, a wry smile playing on her lips, “Some party, huh?”

She chuckles, and you roll your eyes. The weight of her laughter only intensifies your embarrassment, a vivid reminder of the scene you created at the gala. You find yourself wishing for the ground to open up and spare you from the aftermath of your emotional outburst. Why did you have to make such a spectacle?

Damn you and your relentless emotions. Now the whole world, or at least everyone at the gala, knows the depth of your disdain for Jimin, you assume. You bury your face in your hands, releasing a frustrated grunt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to create such a spectacle.”

Ara’s laughter rings out, much to your dismay, intensifying the furrow in your brow. You don’t see the humor; you’ve practically made a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

“Well, we all had a blast,” she laughs, a beautiful smile playing on her lips, “I’m sure Jimin is having a good laugh about it too.”

You roll your eyes once more, highly skeptical. After all, you called him so many terrible names, didn’t allow him a word in, and basically told him to stick it in his ass.

Wonderful. Great. Peachy. Words that utterly fail to capture the chaotic storm of emotions swirling within you at this very moment. The vivid memories of your passionate outburst yesterday haunt you, casting a shadow over any semblance of composure. There’s a lingering wish to escape the possibility of encountering Jimin and his girlfriend again, but deep down, you acknowledge that luck doesn’t favor you so generously.

You hastily slather butter onto your bread, devouring it in its pure simplicity. The imminent need to depart gnaws at you; the day awaits, beckoning you to gallop over to the Bell ranch, where the untamed spirits of the wild horses entwine with the shared endeavors of you and Yoongi.

“I have to go,” you declare, snatching the bread in your mouth, and dash outdoors toward the barn. The sun, now radiantly shining, bestows a sense of hope upon your day, propelling you forward with anticipation.

As you saddle up Marshmallow and guide him outdoors, a faint sound begins to patter on the roof—a soft, rhythmic reminder of the rain.

Out in the open, the rain embraces you in seconds, a relentless downpour that draws a scoff. Undeterred, you plant your foot in the stirrup and swing the other leg over, urging Marshmallow into a full gallop. The rain pelts your face, but you ride on, indifferent to the weather’s challenge.

As you ride, thoughts of Jimin’s expression at the gala linger in your mind. Despite his initial composure, his face betrayed offense and anger, as if restraining the urge to shout back. He stood there, his girlfriend by his side, absorbing every word you hurled at him. Regret tugs at you, but the words are irreversible, a turbulent exchange you can’t undo, even if you wished otherwise.

A yearning lingers within you, hoping that Jimin would have retorted, engaged in a verbal sparring, or at least defended himself. However, his silence echoes louder than any words, leaving you to ponder the significance of his unspoken response.

You sense that words were poised on the tip of Jimin’s tongue, ready to spill out, but a conscious decision to shield yourself from his potential revelations compelled you to shut down any communication before it began.

The peculiar weather paints a contradictory scene: raindrops cascade, yet the sun defiantly radiates its warmth, creating a surreal ambiance. In the midst of this meteorological paradox, a double rainbow graces the distant horizon. The sight, both enchanting and whimsical, elicits a genuine smile, urging you to spur Marshmallow into an even faster gallop. Each rhythmic beat of his hooves seems to synchronize with the cadence of your heart, a determined attempt to outride the persistent thoughts of Jimin that linger in your mind.

As the ranch emerges on the horizon, a welcoming sight after the turbulent events, you guide Marshmallow down to the pen where Yoongi and Hoseok eagerly await your arrival. Skillfully securing Marshmallow to the fence, you exchange greetings with the two men, the atmosphere pregnant with anticipation for the day’s tasks on the ranch.

Hoseok’s laughter greets you even before you utter a single word, prompting an eye roll from you in response.

As Yoongi dedicates himself to the fiery-red mare once more, you find your way to the fence, settling in next to Hoseok with a sense of camaraderie.

“Nice gala, huh?” Hoseok teases, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggests he’s well aware of the evening’s drama. You respond with a loud groan, wondering why people find the need to rub your failures in your face.

“Shit. I regret how I behaved. It’s so embarrassing,” you confess, closing your eyes as if wishing to erase yesterday from existence.

“I understand. But it was fun to watch,” he laughs heartily, his entire being pulsating with mirth.

You shift your gaze downward to Yoongi in the pen, “Have you noticed the herd of wild horses getting closer?”

Yoongi nods knowingly, “Yeah.”

You observe the mare’s lively movements before turning your attention back to Yoongi, “What do you think it means?”

Yoongi looks up from the mare, his expression serious, “Nothing good.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

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sailor-aviator · 1 year

Text

Fool's Fare: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Trigger Warnings: Alcohol, Jake Seresin, suggestive language, fear of abandonment. I think that's it?

Word Count: 2.87k

A/N: Wasn't sure I was going to post again tonight, but here we are! Not sure I'm going to post a fic update tomorrow, but I might work on some drabbles and post some of the asks sitting in my inbox. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The cool, night breeze twisted its way through the door of the crowded pub as a group of patrons exited, offering the briefest relief to your clammy skin as you busied yourself behind the bar. Patrons crowded around the various tables, some laughing in the open while others crowded in the dark shadows of the corners. Your regulars were easy to spot, most of them fishermen. Their carefree attitudes set them apart from the strangers passing through who kept themselves closed off and guarded in an unfamiliar places.

“Y/n!” Called Tom, one of your regulars. He had been a good friend to your father, having known him from his early fishing days. Tom had done well for himself, having been able to put enough money away to buy his own ship - the Iceman. “How’s about another ale!”

“Coming, Captain!” you hollered over at him jovially, already moving to grab a fresh glass. You had always liked the old captain, and had considered him to be a part of your family growing up. When your parents had died, he had seen to it personally that you were taken care of and that Bradley was able to secure steady work on the various shipping vessels that docked on your shores. “Where’s Rooster?”

“Should be coming along soon, I suspect,” Tom smiled warmly. Bradley had been picking up different odd jobs as of late, his latest one being aboard the Iceman loading and unloading cargo. He had been dodging your questions about it as of late, and you had started to wonder if he was up to something.

“He’s going to work himself into an early grave,” you grumbled, sliding the glass of ale down to the captain who caught it easily. “He won’t even tell me what he’s doing all of these jobs for.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” mused Tom, lifting the glass up to his lips to take a swig. “He probably doesn’t want you to worry.”

“He’s worrying me by not saying anything,” you countered, leaning against the bar. At that moment, the pub door swung open, and an exhausted looking Bradley stumbled through. You rounded the bar to help him sit down as he staggered onto a stool. “Bradley, for heaven’s sake!”

“Think you can get me an ale, Guppy?” he asked, rubbing at the bags under his eyes. The tips of his ears and nose were seared pink from hours spent in the intense sun, and you frowned at him.

“What you need is sleep,” you countered, but Bradley shook his head, fixing you with tired, pleading eyes.

“Please?” he asked again, softer this time. You sighed, moving back behind the bar and pouring him a draft before sliding it over to him. He grabbed it, raising it up in a silent cheers before tossing his head back with a long swig.

“Easy, lad,” Tom frowned, watching the young man as he took another long pull from his glass. Bradley set his drink down, absentmindedly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Another,” he told you, but you shook your head.

“No, absolutely not,” you scowled as the furrow between his eyes deepened. “You need to go home and rest, Bradley.”

“She’s right, lad,” Tom started, twisting in his seat to face the younger man. “You’ll work yourself into an early grave if you’re not careful.”

“I’m fine,” Bradley muttered, resting his head against the palm of his hand. Tom gave him a wry smile before clapping his hand on the other man’s shoulder. He shot you a wink before getting up to join his crew that was gathered on the opposite side of the room. You watched him go before turning back to look at Bradley with a frown.

“C’mon, Roos,” you prodded, leaning your head down so you could meet his gaze that was fixed on the bartop. “Tell me what you’re up to.”

“Nothin’” he grumbled unconvincingly. You rolled your eyes with a purse of your lips.

“I’m having a hard time believing you,” you sniped, snatching the glass away from him. Without another word to him, you poured another ale and offered it to him. He took it, offering a small smile. He met your even gaze just long enough for you to see the flash of guilt that flitted in his eyes. “What was that?”

“What was what?” he asked, taking a small sip from his glass.

“Why do you look guilty?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bradley Bradshaw,” you hissed, eyes blazing, “I have known you for twenty years now. Either you tell me what you’re up to right now, or I will personally see to it that you won’t be able to get another job for a month.”

“Alright,” he winced, setting the glass down and finally meeting your stare. “You have to promise me you won’t yell.”

You scoffed. “Are you twelve?”

“Guppy, promise me,” he insisted, hazel eyes pleading with you. You studied him another moment before sighing.

“Alright, fine.”

“I’m leaving.”

“You’re what?” you shrieked, causing some of the patrons to turn to the two of you as Bradley hissed at you to be quiet.

“You promised you wouldn’t be mad.”

“That was before you told me you were leaving,” you snapped. “Where are you even going to go?”

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted, leaning back. “Still need to find a crew that will take me on long-term.”

You stayed silent, watching him with furious eyes. After a couple of beats, you turned to walk back around the bar. “Caroline, I’m leaving.”

She waved after you, moving to tend to some patrons on the opposite end of the bar. Bradley watched you walk away with wide eyes before getting up to stumble after you. You flung the door of the pub open before setting off with a brisk pace down the road.

“Guppy!”

You ignored the man behind you, tears starting to gather in your eyes.

“Guppy?”

The tears began to fall, the trails they left behind on your cheeks turning to ice in the cool, night air. You turned to walk down to the beach past the docks. How could he drop that bomb shell on you? How could he keep that hidden from you in the first place? Your anger only served to cover up the true emotion you tried your hardest to ignore. Betrayal.

“Y/n, please,” Bradley begged, his long legs having helped him catch up to you by now. You stopped in your tracks, feet sliding into the sand beneath you as you whirled around. You shoved Bradley with all of your strength, shock at the unexpected movement being the only reason stumbled back at all.

“How could you?” you cried, tears falling quicker and your breath coming out shallower as you fought to keep your composure. “How could you just plan to leave me?”

“It’s not like that,” he started, but you shook your head.

“Don’t lie to me, Bradley,” you seethed, hands now clenched at your sides. “Don’t. I deserve the truth. Were you even going to say goodbye to me, or were you just going to vanish one day?”

“Of course not,” he murmured, staring at you with eyes once again pleading with you. “I would never do that to you. You know that.”

“I thought I knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t leave,” you shot back, causing Bradley to wince. “Guess I don’t know as much as I thought I did.”

“Y/n,” he sighed, running a hand over his face and looking out at the ocean. He seemed to be mulling over his words. “It wouldn’t be forever.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” you laughed humorlessly.

“It wouldn’t be forever,” he continued, giving you a pointed look. “It would only be until I earned enough to buy my own ship.”

“You can do that here,” you argued, but Bradley shook his head with a small, empty laugh.

“I can’t,” he said. “I’ve barely earned enough these past weeks to live off of for a month out at sea. I’d be buried in the ground before I earned enough to buy a ship, and you know that.”

You couldn’t argue. You knew he was right, and you knew that this was not the life he had dreamed of. He had dreamed of going off with your father on one of his many voyages before the sea had claimed him. It had been years, but the pain of his and your mother’s passing still felt fresh in your heart.

You saw how Bradley looked longingly out at the sea when he thought you weren’t looking, or how he always looked happiest standing on the deck of a boat. No, Bradley was meant for a life at sea, and you knew it. You just never thought he would leave you behind.

“It won’t be forever,” he says again, moving to put his hands on your shoulders, bending down so he was eye level with you. “And when I earn enough money to buy my own ship, I’ll come back for you.”

“That could be years,” you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper. Bradley sucks in a breath before slowly nodding.

“You’re right,” he conceded, wiping the tears from your cheek.

“What if you forget about me?”

Bradley huffed out a laugh before drawing you into his arms. He hugged you tightly, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “How could I forget my baby sister? Besides, I think you’d swim across the ocean to find me if I ever forgot about you.”

You huffed a laugh, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re probably right.”

“‘Course I am,” he chuckled, pulling away from you. “Now, c’mon. It’s freezin’ out here, and I’m exhausted.”

You allowed him to lead you up the hill to your shared home. He left a chaste kiss to the top of your head before wishing you goodnight. As you lay in bed that night, you obsessed over the one question you had refused to allow yourself to ask him down at the beach. What if the sea claimed him too?

The following night, you found yourself back behind the bar of the pub. You had heard snippets of chatter amongst the locals about an unknown ship that had docked on your shores.

“I don’t like the look of’em,” Tom had told you and Bradley as he sat at the bar. A lull in the crowd had granted you a moment to stop and talk with the two of them.

“Why’s that?” you asked. He frowned.

“When you get to be my age,” he grumbled, “you can start to pick out the rotten sorts from just a glance.”

Before you could respond, the pub door swung open, hitting the wall with a thud. All three of you turned to see a large group step through the doorway and into the warm glow of the lantern filled room. A blond man stood at the front of the group, lips curled into a confident smirk. You noted the handsome features of him and his companions, and you knew the other women in the room had as well due to the scattered giggles from around the room.

“That’s them,” Tom mumbled, taking another sip of his ale.

The blond scanned his eyes across the room before catching sight of you at the bar. A twinkle of intrigue shone in his eyes as he began to saunter over to you, his crew dispersing to find a table to sit at. You shot a weary glance at Tom before moving to meet the tall stranger on the opposite side of where Bradley sat.

“Evenin’” you greeted with a polite smile. “What can I get you?”

The man looked you over with lick of his lips. “An ale, and your company if you’re offerin’ that too.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm. It wasn’t the first time a patron had made a pass at you, but it was the first time a patron was that devilishly handsome. “The ale, I can get you, but I’m not in the habit of entertaining sailors.”

“Shame,” the stranger grins, watching as you pour his drink. You hand it to him, and you feel a shiver run up your spine as his fingers graze yours. “Would have been nice to have someone as pretty as you in my bed tonight.”

You saw Bradley’s jaw tick from the corner of your eye, and you shot him a warning glance. This part of your job wasn’t new, and you had long since learned how to handle yourself in these situations.

“I believe there are more than a couple of girls over there who would be willing to warm your bed tonight, Mr…?”

“Seresin,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Jake Seresin. And I’m not interested in having anyone but you, pretty girl.”

“Well, then it looks like your bed will go cold tonight after all,” you said to him. Bradley snorted, trying to cover it with a cough, but Jake ignored him.

“Seresin,” Tom grunted, causing all three of you to look at him. He shook his head, and turned to glare at Jake. “I’ve heard of you. You’re a pirate.”

The conversation died in the pub as everyone turned to look at your little group by the bar. Jake’s easy grin never faltered as he stared back at Tom.

“Pirate is such a nasty word,” he drawled, taking a sip of his ale. “I prefer the term…liberator.”

“Whatever you call it, you have no business here,” Tom snapped.

“I beg to differ, my friend,” Jake countered, moving to stand. Turning to the rest of the room, he stated, “I’m looking for men to join my crew. You keep what you can carry with you. If you’re interested, come see me.”

And with one final glance at you, he sauntered off towards the back of the room where his crew had taken up purchase.

“Pirates?” you asked, looking at Tom hesitantly. He shook his head and got up to go join his own crew in the corner. You peered at Bradley from the corner of your eye. He studied the rim of his glass as he stroked it thoughtfully.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked him. He jumped as your words pulled him from his train of thought.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, refusing to meet your gaze. You studied him him for a moment until you saw the quick glance he threw towards the back of the room.

“No,” you snapped, causing him to finally meet your gaze. “Absolutely not.”

“What?” he scowled, but you fixed him with a glare and a finger pointed into his chest.

“Don’t even think about it,” you hissed in warning. Bradley glared right back at you before hopping off his stool and strutting towards the crew at the back. You scrambled around the bar after him. You closed the distance just as he stopped in front of Jake.

“I want to join your crew,” he stated. Jake looked at him with an amused look, eyes flickering to you as you pulled on Bradley’s arm so that he faced you.

“Bradley, don’t,” you begged.

“Y/n, enough,” he snapped down at you, taking you aback. His eyes softened as you looked up at his broad frame with hurt bewilderment. He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his sandy brown locks. He looked back at you before continuing. “Don’t you see, Guppy? This is my chance. If I don’t go now, who knows when I’ll get another opportunity to leave and make my fortune.”

“Roo, you’re my brother. I can’t let you do this,” you pleaded, taking his hand in yours. You willed him to listen to you, but it was no use.

“I’ve made my decision, Guppy,” he said. You couldn’t stop the flash of hurt you knew passed over your face as Bradley turned back to the captain. You looked around at the other patrons desperately before settling your eyes on Tom. He was already looking at you with a solemn expression, shaking his head.

“Sign here,” Jake instructed, pointing to the piece of parchment he had rolled out onto the table. Bradley obeyed, scratching his name in quick strokes to the bottom. You felt the tears start to run down your face before you could stop them. You couldn’t stop anything, it seemed. Bradley straightened and turned to look at you. The two of you stared at one another for several moments before you turned on your heel and stormed away from him.

That night, as you lay in bed, you dreamed of the sea. You dreamed of blue and green swirling around you as you struggled to breath. You dreamed of splintering wood and echoed shrieks that were drowned out by thundering waves. You dreamed of strange creatures that lurked the deep as they waited for their next meal. You dreamed of golden hair and cocky smirks as they taunted you beneath the waves. You dreamt of a cold, calloused hand that pulled you under until the surface was nothing but a distant memory.

#top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #hangman top gun #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin imagine #hangman imagine #hangman #hangman x you #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #fool's fare

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porcupine-girl · 2 years

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Tumblr: Myth vs Fact

People have been talking a lot about Tumblr on Twitter lately (for no reason whatsoever), but that also means a lot of misinformation is going around. So if you're coming from Twitter, I would like to clear up a few misconceptions, starting with:

Myth: Tumblr is dead. It died with the Dec 2017 porn ban and now it's a ghost town.

Fact

Well, okay, yes, it did die with the Dec 2017 porn ban. Mostly. But it got better! On November 5, 2020, Destielpocalypse happened and Tumblr rose from the grave. Since then it hasn't been as busy as in, say, 2015, but it's gotten over its death and has had a steady stream of traffic ever since.

See the rest below the cut!

Myth: Tumblr is where all the drama and discourse starts.

Fact

Again, this hasn't been true in quite a while. When Tumblr died in 2017, most of the people responsible for the discourse moved to Twitter. Since then, it's been pretty chill, even after Destielpocalypse resurrected it. People like to say that Twitter is just Tumblr five years ago, and... it's pretty true right now, at least in the drama department. We'd appreciate it if you didn't try to change that.

Myth: Porn is allowed again on Tumblr!

Fact

Sadly, this is not true. However, nudity is allowed now. Just no visual depictions of explicit sex acts. Here is a pretty detailed explanation from the CEO of Automattic (the company that owns Tumblr) on why they can't bring porn back right now, even though he would like to.

Note that this only applies to visual depictions. Explicit text (yes, that means smutty fanfic) has always been allowed.

Myth: You should never add anything to a post you reblog.

Fact

Actually, one of the really cool things about Tumblr is how a post can grow and develop with every new addition! Simple Tumblr posts have turned into repositories of useful information or complex scifi world-building thanks to users collectively adding cool stuff with each reblog, or sometimes just asking relevant questions for others to answer in their reblogs.

But you don't have to add anything in order to reblog! Most people don't! And if you have something to say that doesn't really add to the post (like "Cute!") or is just for your followers, it can go in the tags.

Which brings us to a related myth:

Myth: There is a complicated system of etiquette around reblogging and tagging and if you don't follow it everyone will point and laugh.

Fact

Okay, there are some general etiquette guidelines that have developed that most people follow. Like the above, about only adding onto a post if you have something substantive to say and putting other comments in the tags. I'm sure you've seen rules like this around.

But these are flexible and nobody is going to hate you for violating them now and then. If you reblog something and forget and add "Cute!" to the post instead of in a tag, nobody is going to dogpile you. Worst case, people will click back to the reblog before yours and reblog it from there instead of reblogging yours. Or they might just reblog yours because tbh it doesn't really detract from the post. Just don't be rude, and remember that the OP and everyone who sees the post can see your tags very easily now.

The main thing is please do reblog stuff! That is the #1 way posts get new viewers (see below, most people turn the algorithm off). You don't have to add anything or even tag it; reblogging it is just a way to say "hey followers, look at this neat thing I found!"

Don't let the idea that you're not reblogging "correctly" prevent you from reblogging at all.

Myth: It's cringe to reblog old stuff, or to go through and reblog/like lots of things from someone's blog.

Fact

Posts are made for reblogging. We are all here for the reblogging. We want you to reblog. There are posts from 2012 or even older still making the rounds. If someone stumbles on my blog and reblogs a bunch of old stuff in a row, I'm just happy that they enjoyed my blog.

If OP doesn't want a post to be reblogged anymore, they now have the ability to turn reblogging off. Otherwise, reblog away.

Myth: Tumblr is the golden land of no algorithms!

Fact

Tumblr is the golden land of allowing you to avoid the algorithm if you so choose.

Most Tumblr users changed these settings years ago and have been living algorithm-free for so long they forget that when you first sign up, it does have an algorithm unless you turn it off.

Here is how to customize your viewing experience (on the app):

From your blog (the little people in the bottom right corner), hit the Settings wheel in the top right corner.

Go to General settings

Go to Dashboard preferences

The first four are all various algorithms. Best stuff first reorders your dash by algorithm - if you turn it off, it's all chronological all the time. 2-4 add extra stuff to your dash that the algorithm thinks you'll like. If you turn them off, you will ONLY see what's on the blogs you follow. (Note: if you turn off "Include followed tag posts" you can still view the tags you follow in the "Your Tags" tab at the top of your dash.)

4b - If you want to view mature stuff (nudes but also violence or anything drug/alcohol related) go to Content You See and turn it on. It's off by default. This is also where you can set tags or keywords you want hidden.

(These settings can all be found in similar places on desktop.)

Even after you do all this, if you really want to see what the algorithm has to say, just go to the For You tab. It will... probably convince you that you made the right choice in turning all of this off. Tumblr's algorithm really isn't that great, and we're fine with that.

Myth: Neil Gaiman is an active Tumblr user.

Fact

@neil-gaiman has no social media.

Myth: Supernatural is a television show that went off the air two years ago and is no longer relevant.

Fact

Welcome, you are now on the Supernatural website, where even if there wasn't a prequel series currently at this very moment airing, Supernatural will never die. Or will die and be resurrected repeatedly. It will probably creep into something on your dash eventually. Mute a few keywords if you don't want it, but brace for the occasional gif anyhow.

#tumblr #intro to tumblr #twitterpocalypse #notes

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something-tofightfor · 2 years

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Competing For Christmas 2: Oh, Christmas Tree

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 9,650

Rating: T/M: There’s some language. That’s about it - aside from Din being absolutely charming, which requires a warning on its own.

Summary: It’s getting closer to the beginning of the competition, but there’s an opportunity to squeeze an “early” hangout with Din in ... is he up for it, too?

Author’s notes:

Thank you SO MUCH for the response to part 1. I love this story - and I’m so damn glad you all seem to, too. I appreciate every message and comment and set of tags - please keep them coming!

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open! You should all know the drill by now.

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Mando’a translations at the end!

Masterlist / Part 1

By 2 pm on Wednesday, you were counting down the seconds until you could clock out for the long weekend. Even though you’d cleared a lot of your workload throughout the week, it seemed like every one of your clients was having some sort of emergency that desperately needed attention before the end of the day, and you were done.

You’d splurged on an iced coffee after lunch for an extra boost, having it delivered instead of going down to the cafeteria for one of the basic ones, and even though it was down to mostly half-melted ice cubes, it had distracted you some. “But not enough.”

Lowering your head onto your folded arms, you groaned as another new email came in, the little red flag next to it most likely unwarranted. “You, uh, doing alright in here?”

The sound of Din’s voice made you raise your head, spinning in your chair so that you could look at the doorway - and him. “Din? What are you -”

“I’m on my way back to my office. Just finished reinstalling the VPN on that new guy’s computer.” He paused, shifting his weight to the other foot, one hip jutting out. “Something Vanth? I don’t know his first name, all that was on the work order was the initial.” Din paused for long enough to look past you at the computer screen, and you saw him wince at the sight of your open email client. “Looks like you’ve got a full inbox.”

“I do. I’m halfway tempted to unplug the power cord and then not reach out to my IT guy until ten minutes before the day’s over.” He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he stepped fully into your office.

“You could just do what the one lady in sales did last week.” He moved closer, spinning your chair again so you were facing your desk before leaning over your shoulder and pointing at one of the buttons on your laptop’s keyboard. “Just press that button and turn off your trackpad. There’s no light that goes off or anything, so it’s impossible to know what changed without someone taking a thorough look at it.”

His proximity stunned you. Not only was his physical presence imposing - the man’s weight leaning against the back of your chair, along with the underside of his arm brushing against your shoulder - but you were shocked that the air in the room felt different when he was there, too. Are you thorough, Din?

You were still frustrated and exhausted, but you were smiling, the scent of Din’s cologne - spicy and slightly woodsy - thick in your nose. Before answering him, you turned your head and closed your eyes, inhaling. He smells good. Really good. “You being here now defeats the purpose, though.” Finally finding your voice, you sighed. “All you’d have to do is press it again, and then I’d be right back where I started.”

“Now you know for next time.” He straightened up, keeping the hand on the back of your chair. “And since you’re busy I won’t stay too long, I just figured I’d stop in and see what time you wanted to meet on Saturday. I know the thing starts at 7, but I didn’t know if you wanted to meet there, or -”

“That’s probably the best plan.” Sighing, you tapped your fingers on your desktop before looking back over your shoulder at him. “It’s about the same distance from both of our houses, so there’s no point in going out of the way just so we can take the same car.” You shrugged. “That way if we lose horribly, we don’t have to drive back together in angry silence.” He smiled again, nodding. “Got plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m going to catch up on sleep.” He took a long breath, watching you closely. “Make dinner for the two of us, and then just lay on the couch all day in my sweatpants.”

“That sounds amazing.” It did - even though you loved your family, you wouldn’t have said no to the opportunity to do the same as Din - and the idea of spending the day with him and Grogu was more than appealing. Sweatpants? I … “What about Friday? Are you going to the tree lighting? They flip the switch at about 8.”

“I heard about that.” He wet his lips. “Thought about it.”

“You should. Bring Grogu. A lot of people take their dogs. It’s busy but not packed, and he seems like he’s really well behaved when you’re giving him commands, so…”

“Are you going?” You watched his fingers flex against his biceps, your eyes drawn to the movement before they moved up, locking with his. They were warm once again, studying you with an intensity that surprised you, and you knew that there was something else he wanted to ask, but hadn’t.

“I am. My friend Stacy and her husband are going. We’re meeting our other friend Cara for dinner beforehand. She lives a couple hours away now, but always comes home for the holidays, so it’s kind of tradition.” You didn’t add that for the previous three years, James had been there, too, but you figured that he knew just the same. “If you go, let me know. I’d love to see the little… what’d you call him? Whump rat?”

“Womp rat.” Din’s lips twitched. “Just something I heard as a kid, and it fits perfectly for him.”

“I’d love to see the little womp rat again, Din. There are vendors that set up on the street, and some of them usually sell dog treats, so I think he’d have fun, too.”

“Hmm.” He nodded, closing his eyes briefly. “Good to know.” Din sighed then and squinted at your screen. “I should let you get back to work. I’m pretty sure you’ve gotten a couple more emails since I’ve been standing here.” I know. Don’t remind me. You groaned at his words, covering your face with both hands.

“What button did I need to push again?” He laughed as he turned away, heading for the door. “Din? Is it the one with the -”

“Have a good Thanksgiving. I’ll see you later this week.” He paused in the doorway, one hand rising to grip the wooden frame before he turned at the waist, grinning at you. “Don’t start pressing random buttons on your laptop, alright?” There was a challenge in his voice, one eyebrow arched so high that it all but disappeared into a wavy lock of his hair that hung down over his forehead.

“Is it this one?” Reaching behind you, you jabbed blindly at a key. “Or this one? What about -”

“Stop touching things.” He rolled his eyes at you before he narrowed them playfully. “I’m not going to help you.” Keeping a neutral expression on your face, you pushed a third button and Din rolled his eyes again, muttering the word “unbelievable” under his breath before exiting the room completely, his hand lingering on the wooden doorframe until the last possible second.

“I’ll see you on Friday, Din!” You called after him but he didn’t reply, and when you turned back to your computer, you were smiling, despite the fact that he was right and there were more emails that had come in. “That was a nice distraction.”

Admitting it was a lot easier than you’d thought it would be, and when you reached for your cup and sucked the straw between your lips, even the taste of the watered down coffee wasn’t enough to sour your mood.

—

Near the end of dinner Friday, you got a message that didn’t include any text. It was just a picture, and when you opened it, you nearly dropped your phone.

Clumsily grabbing for the device before it hit the table, you didn’t even try to stop your sharp intake of breath, Stacy cutting her husband off mid-sentence to ask you what was wrong. “Nothing’s wrong…it’s just…”

Turning the phone toward her, you chewed on your lower lip. Her eyes widened and she reached out with a fingertip, tapping the screen. “Who’s that?”

“Grogu. Din’s dog. It looks…” You sighed. “It looks like they’re downtown, which means he’s here for the tree lighting.” Like I told him he should be. “Wonder if I’ll run into them.”

“He sent you the picture so that obviously means he wants you to know where it is.” Cara sipped her beer, leaning back in her seat. “I think that means he’s hoping to see you.”

“I agree.” Stacy’s smile widened as you pulled your phone back toward you, eyes on the screen - and the image of the dog staring into the camera, mouth open and tongue hanging out with the familiar sight of the town square’s decorations partially visible behind him. “You’re downtown. They’re downtown. Does he know you’re here?”

“He does. I told him the other day he should come, but he never said whether or not he’d decided to, and…” Trailing off, you let the screen go dark. “I didn’t know.”

“Now you do.” Cara cleared her throat, turning in her seat to signal for your server to bring the check to the table. “And we’re about to pay, which means in less than ten minutes you will also be at the town square.”

“Cara, it -”

“What?” She took the booklet from the woman when it was handed to her, not even looking before she stuffed her credit card into it and then handed it back. “You’re going to say it isn’t that simple? That you don’t know if you’ll see them?” She thanked the waitress quietly before returning the gaze of her dark eyes to you. “Sometimes it is that simple. I haven’t been around much lately, but you’re single. He’s single. It’s been a couple weeks since you and James have even spoken, even though he’s still living here. You wouldn’t be doing anything wrong. And it’s not like I’m suggesting you marry him, but when the hot guy with the cute dog sends you a picture of said cute dog being extraordinarily adorable out of nowhere… you should go with it.”

The four of you sat there in stunned silence at her outburst, the chatter of the other restaurant patrons loud in your ears. She’s right, but… “Can I say something?” Joseph - Stacy’s husband - cleared his throat. “I never really liked James, and I think Cara’s right.”

“What?” In disbelief, you leaned in, mouth dropping open. “I was with him for years. We always went out places together. I had no idea. I -”

“I wasn’t allowed to say anything.” He sighed. “Stacy told me I couldn’t be a dick about it because the two of you were together, so I tolerated him the same way she did. But man was it hard sometimes.” He went quiet as Cara’s card and the receipt came back, the woman taking it and then signing it with a flourish. “I don’t know this Din at all, but Cara’s got a point. There’s no reason for you not to have fun this year. You finally have a real partner for this competition and won’t have to pull the dead weight, and it sounds like this guy is…” He trailed off, searching for the right word, and his wife supplied it for him, reaching out to cover his hand with her own.

“Worth it.” She grinned at you, eyes full of mischief. “And you know it.”

From the limited interactions you’d had with Din, you agreed, but you knew that there was more to him that you didn’t know - and that you had to be careful. “I’ll text him back.” You held up a finger to interrupt both women, whose mouths opened to respond to you. “On one condition.” Lips pressed together, they stayed quiet, waiting. “The two of you cannot intervene in this. Whatever happens, I want it to happen because Din and I are -”

“Deal.” Stacy held up both hands, nodding. “As long as you do something. I just don’t want to sit here and watch you pass up on a good thing because you’re still thinking about James or worrying about what might happen later on.”

“I have a condition, too.” Of course you do. Cara stuck her tongue into her cheek and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t just keep this about the competition. Get to know him. You have what, five nights with him over the course of the next month after tonight?” Nodding in agreement, you eyed her, waiting for the other boot to drop. “I will sit back and let you blow it if that’s what it comes down to, as long as I can see that you’re making an attempt not to let that happen.”

You laughed at her, the woman’s expression serious, but soon enough all four of you were grinning as you stood from the table, putting your coats on. “Alright, Cara, Stacy. I will try to get to know Din. I will try to make it about more than the competition. I will try to let myself… connect with him, if that’s what he wants.” Joseph winked at you, wetting his lips.

“Shouldn’t you start by telling him you’re heading over to the tree lighting, then?” Stacy rose onto her toes and kissed his cheek, the man’s arms going around her waist. “You did just promise my wife that - “

Grumbling as you zipped your jacket, you reached for your phone and opened Din’s message, hesitating briefly before you typed a reply.

We just finished dinner and are heading over to the square. Are you and Grogu still around?

Flicking the phone from silent to not, you pressed send - all four of you hearing the confirmation as the message was delivered. “Happy?” Cara was - you could see it in her eyes, and even Stacy looked relieved. You understood that - she’d been around during the breakdown of your relationship and the immediate aftermath, and had seen how the changes had impacted you. And she’ll see this too. She’ll see how …

Your thoughts interrupted by an incoming message sound and a vibration in your hand, you bit your lip at Din’s reply.

We are. There somewhere we can wait for you?

It took only seconds for you to think of an answer, the words of your friends echoing in your head. It’s just a couple weeks. And he seems like a nice guy, even if he’s … withdrawn.

There’s a statue on Maple and Main outside of the parking garage… that might be a good place?

You followed your friends outside, not bothering to put the phone away while you waited to see Din’s response. And he started typing almost immediately, the little dots appearing on the screen before you’d even made it a few steps down the sidewalk.

We’ll be there. He was typing again, and then stopped… but to your surprise another message came through seconds later, almost like he’d sent it before he could stop himself. See you in a few.

—

You saw Din before he got eyes on you, and before you could even react, Cara was reacting for the group. “Holy shit, he’s good looking.” She whistled as you exited the garage and turned toward the statue, and the woman’s jaw dropped at the sight of the man and his dog. “How have you not shown me a picture of him before now?”

“He doesn’t have social media.” You shrugged, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “Actually, until he took a picture for the website the other night, I hadn’t even seen a picture of him, so…” It was a little strange but you couldn’t fault him for it; you had a few other friends without an online presence. But if he had one, it’d be easier to make friends.

The closer you got, the sharper the man’s details became, and you felt something building in your chest at the sight of him. It felt strangely like hope, the promise of something new and exciting, even though everything was an unknown. Getting to know the man over time and through a variety of different methods almost seemed like it was too good an opportunity to be true. But it’s not, because he’s… he’s right here.

Din was dressed comfortably though you could tell he was warm - a pair of dark jeans and boots, a puffy gray utility jacket, the light from above making it shine silver. It had a hood, but he wasn’t wearing it - instead he had a dark knit hat on, pulled low over his ears. But the hat couldn’t hide all of his hair, one longer lock curling out from under the band of it and over his eyebrow, much the same way it had in the office earlier in the week.

It makes him look younger. But you absolutely agreed with the remainder of Cara’s assessment of him, and when you were close enough, you took a deep breath and called out his name before you lost your nerve, drawing the man’s attention from the leashed dog at his feet.

He turned toward you almost immediately, lips curving upward into a smile as he said hello followed by your name. “You made it.” He’s never looked at me like that before.

“I did.” And I want him to do it again. Grogu was whining, the leash taut in Din’s hand as he attempted to get closer to you. For the moment, though, you ignored him, instead focusing on the man. “We did. Din, these are my friends.” Introducing them quickly, you were happy to see that he greeted each of them with genuine interest, reaching out to shake Joseph’s hand and telling Cara and Stacy that it was great to meet them.

“And this is Grogu. Like I told her the other night, he might bark a little bit, but he doesn’t bite.” Grogu’s tail wagged furiously as Stacy knelt down to pet him, Cara not far behind. While they exclaimed over the dog, you kept your attention on Din, surprised to see that the man wasn’t paying attention your friends and was instead focused on you, a tiny smirk still on his lips. “You were right.” He put his free hand on his hip. “We’ve seen more dogs tonight than I thought. Grogu’s loving all the new friends.”

“Good.” Casting a glance down, you took a step closer to the man as your friends kept petting the dog’s soft fur. “Did you find the vendors?”

“I thought I’d wait til you got here.” It was a simple statement, but it made your eyes widen nonetheless, Din’s casual shrug doing nothing to lessen the impact of his words. “Figured you could show us where the good ones were.”

“She can and she will.” Stacy stood, moving over to squeeze your elbow. “We’re going to go and find the hot chocolate.” Stacy, what are you doing? Leaving me here? You … But you realized that she was doing exactly what they’d promised to do: letting you lead, letting things evolve without their interference. “Text me later if you want.”

Assuring her that you would, you turned to say goodbye to Cara, too, catching the woman’s eye - and the look in it. I know. I know, Cara. “It was nice to meet you.” Din raised one hand in a wave, the others saying goodbye shortly after. As they walked away, Stacy cast one last look over her shoulder at Grogu before they turned the corner and disappeared, leaving the three of you alone. “That was subtle.”

Din’s comment surprised you, your lips parting as your attention returned to him. “Din, it’s not like -”

“No, I get it.” He closed his eyes, scoffing. “Believe me, my… friends at home are the same way sometimes. I know how it is.”

You wanted to ask him more - to know about his friends and where he was from, but didn’t want to pry and so you didn’t risk it. You finally took your turn crouching down and greeting Grogu, both of your hands going to his face much like Din’s had the night at his house.

He licked your nose and inched even closer as you laughed, your hand moving back to his neck and shoulder. “Hey big guy.” He barked and then crowded against you, turning in a slow circle as you continued to pet him. “You’re excited tonight, hmm?”

“He is.” Din’s voice interrupted you and when you looked up, locking eyes with the man, you realized what position you were in. Shit. Your hands froze on Grogu, a single breath escaping from between your parted lips. Oh, this … You watched Din’s fingers flex; curling into loose fists as he watched you, and despite the brevity of the moment that passed between you, you couldn’t deny the heat that ignited in your belly at the sight of him above you. Stop it. Stop it now, this is … “If you …” Din finally spoke after drawing in a deep breath and blinking rapidly, breaking the tension. “If you ever want him to stop, say Gev. Down is daab.”

You repeated the words to yourself and then looked away from Din and back at the dog. You were skeptical that he’d listen to you, especially with Din so close. “Gev, Grogu.” Even though you spoke quietly, the single command was enough. He went still and then backed off, settling on his haunches next to Din’s legs. “Holy shit. Really?” You glanced up again and then stood, the smile on your face growing. “What… what language is that?”

“Mando’a.” He shrugged. “I learned it as a kid, and when I found Grogu, I wanted to make sure that he listened.” You started walking toward the center of town again, Din next to you. “How many people say stop or sit or down or no on a daily basis? So teaching him in a different language made sense.”

“It does.” You stepped closer to avoid a couple moving in the other direction, your elbow brushing against Din’s. “That’s smart. So now when he hears it, he knows you’re the one saying it, so he has to listen.”

“Yeah.” Din sighed, winding the leash a little tighter around his hand as the crowd materialized in front of you. “And he usually does.”

“Does he know any English commands?”

“He knows food and eat.” You laughed loudly at that, covering your mouth with one hand, eyes going back to the man next to you. “Walk. Outside.” Din looked down and then leaned closer to you, lowering his voice. “Treat.”

At that, Grogu barked, twisting around to face the two of you again, tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Oh, you definitely know that one, don’t you.” Both you and Din laughed, continuing the walk along the sidewalk and toward the tents that lined the street further down. “Maybe one of these booths will have something for you to snack on, buddy.” Pausing, you looked back up at Din. “If he’s allowed, I mean.”

“Of course he is.” Din grinned at you, the warmth in his expression chasing the chill from the air. “And he’s not too picky, so…”

You figured that the dog would eat just about anything, so the confirmation wasn’t much of a surprise. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to pick something good. You passed a few vendors - people selling Christmas ornaments and wreaths, hand-made blankets and carvings; even a few stands that were filled with soaps and candles.

You didn’t see anything for pets, but Din didn’t seem to mind much, the man asking you questions about some of the stands as you passed them. He’d shortened Grogu’s leash to keep him even closer, and you were happy to see that he was well-behaved, staying near the man’s side and not tugging to run ahead.

“You said they turn on the tree at 8?” He paused at the end of one set of tents turning to face you. “We’ve only got a little longer than half hour left.” Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone and checked the time, finding that he was right. Shit.

“I didn’t realize it was so late, Din. I’m sorry.” I really am, because it means that I’ll have to leave sooner. “But yeah, it’s getting close. So we should find Grogu a snack and then -”

“And then maybe we should find some of that hot chocolate your friend mentioned for ourselves.” He elbowed you gently, shifting closer. “If it was good enough that they ran off right away to find it….” He trailed off and it made you laugh, the three of you beginning to move again, that time toward a smaller grouping of stands.

“It is good, Din.” You didn’t have time to say more than that because you caught sight of the booth you’d been looking for out of the corner of one eye, reaching out with your hand to alert him. “Dog treats on your right.”

He corrected course immediately, leading you and Grogu to the table. “Hi!” The woman behind it greeted you with a wave, eyes darting between you and Din and then down to Grogu. “Looks like the three of you - and especially the little guy - are in need of some snacks.”

“I think he’d like that.” Din cleared his throat. “His name’s -”

“Grogu. I can see it on his collar. I’m not calling him that though. I’m gonna call him Bright Eyes because that’s exactly what this little cutie has.” She stepped around from the table and then crouched down, her gloved hands shooting out to ruffle the dog’s ears. “Isn’t it.” He moved closer, tail wagging, and before Din could tell him to stay down, the dog was on his hind legs, front paws resting on the woman’s knees. “What do you like, little guy? Pig’s ears? Peanut butter? Bacon?”

The wagging of Grogu’s tail sped up with each word the woman spoke, but it wasn’t until she leaned in and kissed him on the nose before rising to her feet that he barked, a happy sound that you could hear even over the crowd around you. “He likes all of it.”

“I know.” She turned and headed back behind the table, holding one hand - and one finger - up. “He looks like he’d eat just about anything but I’ve got just the right …” She bent down and then popped up a few seconds later, a triumphant smile on her face. “Homemade. Dogs love ‘em. Fun shape makes ‘em different. Here you go Bright Eyes, how about this one?”

She rounded the table again and held up what she had in her hand - and while you barely contained your laugher, Din wasn’t able to do the same. “Is that a … frog?”

“It sure is!” The woman nodded once, holding the treat up. “Good for the teeth and the gums. Gets all the crud outta there and it tastes good.” She paused, sucking in a breath and then looked back at Grogu. “Wanna try it?”

He was sitting again, paws neatly placed in front of his body, tail thumping on the ground. You watched him tilt his head back, sniffing the air, and then the dog’s tongue poked out of his mouth as he licked his chops. He does. Look at him. “I’ll pay for it, Din.” Reaching for your purse, you pulled out your wallet. “How much?”

“Couple bucks.” She waved her free hand, bending over again as she lowered her hand. “You can put it in the thing on the table if he likes it.”

“Puhoi, Grogu.” Din’s low voice from next to you made the dog whine quietly, but when the treat was just in front of Grogu’s mouth, you were shocked to see that he remained in place, shifting his paws but otherwise not moving. The woman paused and then looked up at Din, and though it pained you to do so, you looked away from him and at the dog, waiting to see what would happen next. “Hiibir bic.” And then he moved - the dog gently taking the treat from between the woman’s fingers and closing his jaws around it, rising onto all four feet and taking a step back before he set it down, sniffing it.

“Look at that,” the woman exclaimed, her grin returning full force. “I’ve never had a -”

But her words were cut off by Grogu inhaling the frog-shaped treat, chomping down on it with vigor. It crunched into tiny pieces and he devoured them in only a few seconds, nose moving along the ground followed by his tongue to catch any crumbs that he might have missed. That’s more like it. Laughing along with them, you moved around the woman’s body and put the money into the waiting container, fingers deftly picking up one of her business cards from the displayed stack. Peli Motto. Never heard of her before; she must be from out of town.

“Well thank you, Peli.” You held the card up as you stepped back next to Din. “I definitely see a few more of these things in Grogu’s future.” You didn’t know if that was actually going to be the case, but you hoped it would be, especially with how quickly he’d eaten the treat. “I’ll check out the website, and -”

“It’s all there.” She waved her hand again before bending down to scratch at Grogu’s back, the dog nudging against her calf. “Frogs and biscuits and bones and jerky and everything you can think of. I’ve also got a site for my other businesses, and there’s a link on the pet page if you decide to look through it.” She straightened up, looking between you and Din. “Somea the stuff I sell is perfect for couples, and -”

“We’re not a couple.” You interjected before she could get too carried away - and before Din could question why you were letting the assumption slide. “Just friends. But thank you, we’ll take a look.”

She stood straight up again and then stepped back, her attention shifting momentarily from you and Din to another person that was hovering nearby. “If you say so.” She shrugged. “Glad he likes that one though. It’s very popular. And I sell a ton of ‘em for the holidays so if you’re going to want some, make sure you get your order in soon.” She eyed Din again, one hand on her hip. “I do offer expedited production and delivery for a fee, so…”

“You’ll be the first one I call.” Din’s lips twitched into a small smile and then he nodded. “Thank you again. You made his day.” She gave the three of you another nod and then turned her full attention to the new people, the sudden departure blanketing you and Din in relative silence. That was a lot. “Ready to find that hot chocolate?”

“Sure.” Sticking your hands in your pockets as you headed back for the main tree, Din tugged on Grogu’s leash to pull him with you. “And if you don’t want to wait in line with him, we’ll find a spot and then I can go.”

“Is every year like this?” He avoided your offer, gesturing to the people in front of and around you with his free hand. “For the tree lighting?”

“It’s usually not this busy, actually.” You sidestepped a small group of teenagers, bumping into Din’s side as you did. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He steadied you with one large hand, palm resting at the center of your back - and even through your jacket, you could feel it; the pressure welcome and sending a thrumming energy through you. Oh no. “You alright?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t run into any of them.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “Anyway, it’s usually not this busy, but because it’s been nice the last couple days … everyone’s here.”

“Yeah, almost all the snow’s melted.” The three of you reached the corner of the street where the tree was, the brightly colored lights on the food trucks cutting through the darkness. “I was surprised. What happens if there’s no snow for the snowman thing?”

“That’s why it’s not first.” You pointed out the hot chocolate truck, squinting to try and see the line. “Three weeks in gives them plenty of time to figure something out if they need to. I’m sure there’s a backup plan, but we’ve never had to use it… and I’m sure we won’t this year, either.”

He stayed quiet for a few seconds and then Din said your name, the man turning toward you. “I hope you’re right.” Pulling his lower lip back and between his teeth, he stared at you for long moments, the man silent. What’s going on, Din? You wanted to ask but didn’t know how to, your fingers curling into loose fists inside of your pockets. “Look.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I’ll let you stay here with Grogu, if this is a good spot.”

“What?” He held out the leash, the smile returning to his face. “Din, he -”

“He’ll be good.” Din’s eyes flicked down and then back up, “It’s only a few minutes.” Pulling one hand free from your pocket, you took the handle, fingers threading through the loop and then closing around it, the majority of it resting against the back of your wrist. “Wait here?”

“I might move a little closer to those trees.” You gestured with your chin. “But I’ll be there.” When he turned away from you, you said his name, stopping the man in his tracks. “Do you want money? I -”

“No. You bought him that frog. I’ve got it.” He waved you off with one hand. “Marshmallows or whipped cream? What do you like?”

“Marshmallows.” Biting your lower lip in thought, you narrowed your eyes. “And if they’ve got those little candy canes, grab me one of those, too. Please.” He assured you that he would and then Din began moving again, disappearing into the crowd. You watched until you couldn’t see him anymore and then turned your attention to Grogu, saying the dog’s name. “C’mon pal. We’re gonna get to a better spot, alright?”

He went willingly as you weaved through the crowd and about fifteen feet to your right. It wasn’t any closer to the main tree, but the ground where you were standing sloped up and back, elevating you a few feet over the rest of the crowd - and giving you a better view of everything beneath you.

As you let yourself watch what was happening, you zoned out, head tilted to one side and your fingers holding the leash tightly. I’m here with … James hadn’t ever wanted to go to the tree lighting with you, citing the hectic nature of the night along with the long lines at the concession stands - and the traffic jam that getting out of the parking garages could become. And I never fought it. You’d gone every year without him - meeting friends or going alone - but it had never felt perfect; there’d always been something missing.

And you hated to admit it, but the missing piece was someone there with you because they wanted to be - someone that wasn’t just a friend that you’d known for years. You loathed being a third wheel, and even though Stacy and Joseph never made you feel unwanted, you couldn’t help it sometimes. “It’s weird, right Grogu?” Looking down, you watched as he lowered himself onto the ground, paws outstretched in front of him before he settled his nose between them. “This is the first time I’m not here with my friends in about a million years.”

He didn’t reply - or look up - so you returned your attention to the crowd, trying to see if you could spot your friends. I should text them. I should let them know where I am. Pulling your phone out, you saw that there was a message from Cara. What does she want?

Saw Din in the hot cocoa line by himself. Did you scare him off already?

You fought back a laugh at that, sliding the loop of Grogu’s leash all the way back and around your wrist so that you could type.

No, I’m waiting with Grogu by the trees on the hill. He offered to go.

She began typing back almost immediately, and her reply was blunt - though not unexpected.

You can tell me where you’re at all you want, but you’re on your own. We’re staying where we are… and so are you. And Din.

“I knew it.” Groaning, you rolled your eyes and sent a message back,chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Fine. But I still need a ride back to my car later.

She took a few seconds to respond, the bubble appearing and disappearing at the bottom of the message multiple times.

You know where we’re parked.

Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you shuffled your feet and then stuck your hands back in your pockets, seeking out the warmth. Even though it had been warmer, the temperature drop after dark made things chilly. The cup will warm my hands up when he gets back.

As the minutes passed and people’s attention turned toward the main tree, the crowd gathered around it growing steadily larger, you wondered if Din was going to make it back in time. I’d hate that. I wouldn’t want him to miss the tree getting turned on, especially since -

“Hey. I’m back.” Looking to the left, you saw Din approaching, two green cups with lids in his hands. “Sorry it took so long.”

“You made it back just in time.” You took one cup, shaking the leash back to between your fingers before you held it out to Din. “Got a couple more minutes.” He took the loop from you, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at the way his fingers looked against the dark rope, his palm nearly swallowing the braided material as he closed them around it. “The view’s much better up here.”

“It is.” He moved a little closer to you, Grogu still laying on the ground at your feet. “I saw your friends while I was in line. They pretended that they didn’t see me.”

“I’m going to be honest with you, Din.” Sipping the cocoa, you licked your lips clean. “They’re trying to convince me to … I don’t even know what, exactly, and …”

“They’re being good friends.” He took a drink, too, shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. “I take it they’re not trying to wait and see if you end up back with your ex?”

“God no.” You rolled your eyes. “Stacy pretty much threw a party when we broke up, and Cara wasn’t a huge fan, either. I could probably pick any random man in this crowd and they’d approve more than they did with James.” He laughed, the sound quiet - but you still heard it.

“So they ignored me so I couldn’t tell them where we were standing?”

“Yes.” The taste of chocolate coated your tongue, warmth seeping through your body a little more each passing second. “I sent a text to Cara, and she pretty much told me that I was on my own until it was time to leave.”

“Could be worse, right?” Din turned his head toward you, gifting you with an eyeful of his profile.

You’d looked at him before, but that night - with the soft glow of the overhead lights shining through the tree branches and from behind him, you saw the man in a new light. The curved bridge of his nose, his full lips, the well-kept mustache and short, stubbly beard … all of it separately was attractive, but everything together - and there with you - made your stomach flip.

With every second that he spent watching you, it became more and more apparent that the crush you had on him wasn’t going to go away. And we still have five events to do together. This is .. bad. This is going to be … hard.

“I mean… you could be alone, or not have hot chocolate, or…” He trailed off and you were overcome with the desire to hug him, though you stopped yourself, tightening your grip on your cup. “Oh, speaking of …” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two plastic-wrapped candy canes, holding one out to you. “Sorry, I forgot to give this to you.”

You took it from him, plucking the peppermint stick from his fingers and deftly opening it with one hand before you stuck one end between your lips, sucking. Not only did it distract you from what you’d been thinking about, it gave you a few extra seconds to come up with a response. Make it funny. Make it so that he doesn’t think you think this is more than it is.

“You know,” you finally said as you pulled the candy cane from between your lips. “I always thought that if you were a single person out somewhere with a cute dog, there’d be people lining up to talk to you.” You used the candy to point down at Grogu. “But you left me with him for like ten minutes, and no one came up to me, Din. I think your dog’s broken.”

“Definitely not.” Din swallowed a gulp of cocoa and shook his head, licking his lips. “I had at least three women walk up to me before you got here and tell me how cute he was.” Of course you did, but that has nothing to do with the dog. “And when we’re walking, people are always asking about him, too.”

“Must be me then.” You muttered the words, unable to stop yourself. I -”

“No.” He turned toward you, angling his body so that he faced you without needing to turn his head. “It’s definitely not you.” You felt the weight of his stare - the man’s gaze warm and pulling you in, heating you from the inside out more than the hot chocolate ever could have.

“Din, you -”

But before you could say anything else, you heard feedback through the microphone on the square, the sound making you wince and Grogu whine, the dog getting to his feet. “Ouch.” Din winced too, ducking his head and averting his eyes. “You alright, pal?” You looked, finding Grogu’s face peeking out from behind Din’s calves, head tilted so that he could look up. “I know it was loud.”

The moment was broken - and while part of you was thankful, another part of you was upset, the idea of never knowing what you might have said or what might have happened if you hadn’t been interrupted something that you knew would gnaw at you. But it’s better this way. “They’re starting.” You pointed, saying Din’s name. “That’s the mayor and then the winners from last year’s competition.”

“What are they doing up there?” He spoke loudly to be heard over the sound of increasing cheers and clapping, and instead of raising your voice to yell, you shifted closer, turning your head so that you could speak directly into his ear.

“They flip the switch.” You paused, trying to disguise your shiver at the way Din moved, too,closing the distance between you even more. “That’s one of the prizes that stays the same every year. The winners are a part of the tree lighting.”

“So that’s gonna be us next year?” He turned his head to look at you, lips pushed out into a smirk. “Standing up there with everyone watching us?” Wait, what?

“Thought you said I shouldn’t expect anything from you.” You spoke breathlessly, your fingers tightening around your cup as your heart hammered behind your ribcage. “Because -”

“I changed my mind.” He wet his lips, the tip of his tongue flashing into and out of view. “I want to win.” And you said I’m the competitive one. A laugh escaped you then, your nose wrinkling as you shut your eyes, nodding. “What?”

“Well if you’ve changed your mind, Din, then I guess we have to win.” He was grinning at you when you opened your eyes again, but before he could speak, the sound of the Mayor’s voice interrupted, welcoming everyone to the celebration.

The two of you faced forward, eyes on the man and two women that stood next to him, the three of them wearing colorful coats and hats. And even though you were paying attention to what was happening - the man reintroducing the winners with a broad sweep of his arm, thanking all of the vendors for being present, wishing everyone a happy holiday season - you were much more aware of Din’s presence beside you than anything else.

He hadn’t moved away again, the heat radiating off of his body along with the scent of his cologne, and for a few minutes, you let your mind wander, imagining what it would be like to know that you got to attend events with him, to casually reach over and take Grogu’s leash from his hand and wind it around yours, to be able to lean over and rest your head against his - “Hey.”

Din’s voice cut through your thoughts, forcing your attention back onto him just as the Mayor was reminding everyone that the contest began the following night, and that an updated schedule of events was available 24/7 online. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for inviting me.” The smirk had turned into a soft smile, Din’s eyes warm beneath the band of his hat. “I’ve never been to anything like -” There was a smattering of applause that was accompanied with a countdown, and with some regret, you closed your eyes and gritted your teeth. Dammit.

“You probably want to watch this, Din.” Even though you were annoyed that your conversations kept getting interrupted, you couldn’t deny the excitement you felt at the fact that you were only moments away from the true start of the holiday season. “Look at the tree.”

He did - and you did, too, your breath catching as the two women stepped forward and reached out for the oversized switch, their fingers closing around it as the residents of the town began to count backwards from 10.

When they hit 3, you shifted on both feet, glancing down to see that Grogu was sitting again, paws neatly arranged and his ears perked up toward the sound of the crowd. Good boy, Grogu. You smiled at the sight and then looked back at the tree, biting down on your lower lip as the switch flipped - and then a few seconds later, the lights on the tree came on, followed by strings of them leading out and away from it and over the square.

“Oh, dank farrik.” Din’s voice was filled with awe, and as you looked over at him, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at his expression, the man’s eyes wide and his pupils huge. As the lights continued to turn on in succession, you briefly closed your eyes again, taking a deep breath. “Whoa!”

Reopening them, you watched Din’s neck stretch as he looked up, his eyes on the branches above you, which were strung with hundreds of tiny multicolored lights. “Surprise, Din.” Before you could stop yourself, you reached over, laying your hand on his arm. “When I said we decorate here, we decorate.”

“You weren’t kidding.” When he looked back at you, the awe was still there, though there was a deep crease between his brows as he stared at you. “This is …” He trailed off, frowning. “Everything at home is so formal when it comes to the holidays, and … I’ve never…”

“Can’t say that anymore.” You tightened your grip on his arm, fingers sinking into the soft, puffy material of his coat. “And it only gets better.” He eyed you for a few more seconds and then looked away, his attention moving over the lights and the crowd before it honed back in on the tree, the man smiling again. “You should bring Grogu back here at night sometime.”

Letting go of his arm, you crouched down, setting your cup between your feet and reaching over to pet the dog, fingers moving slowly through the short fur on the top of his head. “Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.” He leaned into your touch, whining softly when you scratched him behind the ears. “It’s a good photo op. There’s a little wall that you can have him jump up and sit on, the tree’s perfectly placed behind it. You can sent it back home so everyone can see him.” Din stayed silent, even as you picked the cup back up and stood, taking a sip. “Wait a week or so and get some snow in there, and it looks like a Christmas card.”

“You could come with us.” He turned to face you, lifting one shoulder in a shrug as he took a drink, too. “Show us the right spot.” I’d… I’d love that. You wanted to reply immediately but forced yourself not to, instead taking a deep breath and nodding. Don’t let him see how much you want that.

“If you want.” You finished your cocoa, lowering the cup to your side. “And that way you’ll have someone to take a picture of the two of you.” You saw the confusion return, his eyes narrowing briefly. What did I say? I didn’t mean to… “Din?”

“There you are!” You swore under your breath and unless you imagining it, so did he, but both of you turned toward the sound and watched as your friends headed through the crowd and toward you, Cara holding a cup similar to yours and Stacy and Joseph behind her, their hands linked. “Well, what do you think, Din? You like the lights?”

“I … do.” He nodded at them, winding Grogu’s leash tighter around his hand. “There are a lot more of them than I thought. And I’m used to only white lights, so…” You are? His smile widened, Din nodding. “I like this.”

“A lot of the buildings decorate, too.” Cara swigged from her cup and then grinned. “You’ll see that tomorrow at trivia, to start.”

“I’m sure I will.” Din looked from your friend back to you, a flash of disappointment in his eyes. “But we should probably get going now so we can beat the crowd.” Oh. You’d known it was coming - the time that you had to separate - but you were disappointed, too, the abrupt arrival of your friends changing the feeling of the night. “And that way I can get home in time to study.”

“Study?” You grinned. “Din, are you going to go home and look up -”

“I am.” He straightened up and set his shoulders, his attention fully on you. “Just going to look at a couple things.” He arched a brow, head cocked slightly to one side? “Any recommendations for where to start?”

“I’ll text you a couple links.” You pressed your lips together, warmth toward the man filling your chest. He’s taking this seriously. It’s just a stupid contest, and … “If that’s ok?”

“Yeah.” He took a breath and released it, finally looking away from you and at Grogu. “But I should go and get him home. It was … I had a good time tonight. Thank you for telling me about it.”

“This is only the beginning.” Stacy spoke up, her head resting on her husband’s shoulder. “If you had a good time here, you’ll love the rest of Mistletoe’s Christmas.”

“I hope so.” Eyes darting back to you, Din opened his mouth and then closed it, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yep.” You stepped back and toward your friends, making the first move to put space between yourself and the man. “Have a good night, Din.” You looked down, your smile growing. “You too, Grogu.” Din’s mouth moved but you couldn’t make out what he said - though as soon as he stopped, Grogu barked happily, his tail thumping against the man’s leg. I’ll have to ask him about that.

“G’night, Din.” Cara held up a hand in a wave, the woman reaching over to link arms with you. “See you around.”

As she pulled you away, you looked back over your shoulder at him, finding that Din was watching you with a small smile on his face, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his jacket. Mouthing the word “goodnight” at him, you watched Din nod once before you faced forward, Cara tugging you closer as Stacy and Joseph led the way back to the car.

Once he was out of earshot, you wrenched yourself free, tossing your cup into a trash can before facing your friend. “What was that? You said that you’d let what happened happen. That you wouldn’t interfere, and -”

“I said we’d stay out of it when it came to getting the two of you together or manipulating that.” Cara looked to the side at you, shrugging. “But I didn’t say anything about cutting in in an attempt to pull you apart.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” You were confused at her logic, the four of you continuing to walk back toward the car. “Cara, what do -”

“We watched you all night.” Stacy spoke up, clearing her throat. “We needed to pull you out of there before the two of you got too far ahead of yourselves.” Ahead of ourselves? “There’s definitely a connection there, but there’s no reason for you to rush anything.”

“Rush anything?” Laughing as the parking garage came into view, you rubbed at your forehead. “Don’t sabotage myself, but don’t go too fast, try to get to know him but don’t get too close. What the hell am I supposed to -”

“You just broke up with Captain Asshole, and you might not know Din well,but he’s aware that you were together for a while.” All of you crowded into the elevator, Cara’s arms crossed over her chest and her dark eyes locked with yours. “If you rush into anything with him, or … cross a line with him now, you might regret it. And he might, too.” Oh. That… makes sense.

Stacy spoke up next. “We won’t be there every time you’re with him, but tonight? This is the first night, and since the competition is starting tomorrow, we wanted to make sure it wasn’t… that it didn’t get awkward.” That made sense to you, even though you didn’t want to admit it. “It’s easy to get caught up in the moment. We’ve all done it. But this is … different. And you said you weren’t looking for anything, so -”

“I agree with you.” Sliding into the backseat, you leaned your head back, eyes closed. “I’m not looking for anything. But it’s hard to remember that when …”

“When you’re standing next to someone like Din?” Stacy looked back at you from the front seat, grinning. “Understandable.” Even Joseph laughed at that, and as he pulled out of the garage and onto the main street, you settled back into the seat, eyes out the window. I’m not looking for anything … and even if I was, he… he hasn’t dated anyone the whole time he’s been here, and… shit.

—

An hour later, you were changed into your pajamas and ready for bed, though you decided to watch a movie before heading up to your room.

After settling on the couch and wrapping a blanket around your shoulders, you pulled your phone out and debated over whether or not to text Din. I said I would. Chewing on your lower lip, you started at the screen and then unlocked it, opening your texts.

The picture of Grogu was the first thing you saw, and you couldn’t keep the smile off of your face as you stared at him, the dog’s large eyes bright and focused on the camera - and on Din, in turn. It won’t hurt anything.

A few minutes later, you’d put three different links into a single message, thumb hovering over the send button. It’s just research. You sent the message and then immediately followed it up with another to explain yourself.

Just some light reading for you. They usually go pretty heavy on the general trivia.

It took a few seconds but when Din opened the messages, he began typing back almost immediately - and his answer was not what you expected.

Got it. Thanks, I’ll take a look.

Maybe he’s upset at how I left tonight? You hoped that wasn’t the case - that your friends hadn’t inadvertently ruined things for you while doing what they thought they could to help. Or maybe he’s having second thoughts about tomorrow.

Deciding to send one message back - a smiley face with a simple you’re welcome - you were in the middle of typing when another message from Din came through.

I had fun tonight. It was nice to get out with Grogu … and you.

You nearly dropped your phone at that, and spent the next 60 seconds staring at the screen, mouth hanging open. What? “How do I even respond to that?” You needed to - and you knew it, but you didn’t know what the appropriate reply was, especially after your friends had cautioned you earlier. I just have to be … careful.

I’m glad. I did too.

It felt hollow, though, and as soon as you sent it and reread the message, you were typing again, pressing send again before you could stop yourself.

Can’t wait for tomorrow.

You didn’t expect a reply from Din, but when your phone buzzed again moments later, you let out a breath, covering your mouth with one hand and sighing in relief.

I can’t either.

—

Puhoi = slow

Hiibir bic = take it

Jorhaa'ir = speak