#so he passed away unexpectedly on tuesday

[outstanding-quotes]

My kitten baby a few summer ago, chillin on a copy of Mary Oliver’s Devotions

You and I will always be back then 💖

[hrts4christian]

𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙢 | 𝙮𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙝𝙤

𝙖/𝙣: 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙤! 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙩. 𝙞 𝙖𝙢 𝙨𝙤 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙞𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 @kisseobie 𝙖𝙣𝙙 @sxfterhearts. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜. 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙙𝙜𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 <𝟯

𝙬𝙘: 𝟭.𝟰𝙠

𝙩/𝙬: 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚, 𝙥𝙚𝙩 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨, 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚, 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

You and Keeho sat on the couch, you on top of his lap. It was like any other Tuesday night, he got home late from practice once again, tired and groggy. Something was slightly off though, he seemed a bit affectionate… more than usual.

“Hey Baby? What's up with you tonight?” You quietly mumbled into his shoulder. He tilted your head up at himself before answering.

“You’re just looking extra beautiful tonight… I don't know if I can even keep my hands off of you.” Keeho whispered in your ear, moving a strand of hair behind your ear.

The scene was slightly sensual, the two of you alone in the dark. The only light was coming from the TV, which was playing a show that the two of you had long forgotten about by now. Keeho’s eyes had now averted to your lips, they were so soft and plump… how could he ever keep his attention off of them? By now you had averted your attention back to the TV. Keeho had tried to also watch the TV, but for some reason he just couldn’t shake the thought of you. Keeho had never desired you in this way yet. Each passing moment he could feel his pants tightening. Then again, he had to remember that he had never proposed this idea to you before. Keeho didn’t want to seem weird, he loved you and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. 

“Hey love?” He asked, gently grabbing your chin. You looked up at him.

“What’s wrong?” You looked at him with eyes of concern.

“Well, I was wondering if you would wanna have your first time tonight? I understand if not, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He gave you a small and slightly pouty smile.

Your eyes widened a little, you were unsure. You guys have been dating for about a year and a half now, it couldn’t hurt that bad right? Your gaze drifted away from him as you thought about it. You quickly turned your attention back to him, his brown eyes capturing yours in their warm aura. You nodded at him, signaling you wanted this. He gently shook his head.

“No love, I need you to say it. I dont play about consent.” He looked down at you, his gaze a bit firmer.

“Yes, I want this.” You spoke quietly, it was almost embarrassing to admit something like this. What if he thought you were just a pitiful virgin? 

“Good, love. Let's get to the bedroom then, hm?” He smiled down at you, gently grabbing your hand.

As the two of you walked to the bedroom you could feel the pace of your heartbeat quicken. You had never done this before, to say the least, you were really nervous. Keeho could sense something off about you. He sat you down on the edge of the bed, still holding your hand.

“You know if you don't want to do this, you don't have to. I want you to be comfortable, love.” He looked you in the eyes, his gaze was soft and full of affection.

You gazed up at him, You were nervous, but you really wanted this to happen.

“I promise, this is what I want, I'm 100% comfortable with this. I love you so much.” You whispered to Keeho as  You leaned onto him. He smiled down at you.

“Alright, let's get you prepped then okay?” He gently patted your thigh as he gave you a loving look. You nodded at him.

“Is there anything you wanna handle on your own in the bathroom before I help you?” He asked you as you stared up at him. You shook your head, You  always keep yourself tidy just in case anything happens unexpectedly, for instance, this moment right now.

“Alright then, let me see you, pretty.” Keeho said in a warm voice as he gently tugged at your waistband.

He began to undress you, savoring every moment he got to look at your figure. He toyed with the hem of your t-shirt before locking eyes with you.

“You wanna keep this on or no?” He asked, his voice full of security and care. You nodded, signaling you wanted to keep the shirt. He smiled at your small activity.

“Okay then pretty, lay back against the pillows for me?” You followed his instructions quickly, crawling to the headboard and leaning against the pillows.

“What do I do now?” You whispered to him, a glint of excitement in your voice. He smiled at your curious aura, it was clear that you were inexperienced.

“Just spread your legs for me pretty. Do you want option one or option two?” He asked, a small smirk forming on his face. You could tell that either option would feel heavenly.

“I guess option two?” You whispered hesitantly. He smiled at you and gently pulled apart your legs, his hand on your thigh. 

He moved up to sit next to you, gently scooping you into his lap. His hand slid dangerously close to your pantie covered core.

“Alright love, this might hurt a little at first but you’ll be a good girl for me, right?” He smiled as you nodded your head.

“I’ll start then, just remember… we don't have to go all the way. If you want to stop please let me know, love.” He whispered in your ear as he gently rubbed your inner thigh.

He slid your cotton panties to the side. They were nothing fancy, white and navy blue stripes, boyshort cut. Keeho’s hands moved in towards your core, gently splitting open your folds with his index and middle finger, just enough to be able to find your clit. He began to play with your clit, rubbing small circles around your sensitive pearl. You let out a whine, your legs trying to squeeze together.

“Nope pretty girl, you’re not gonna do that.” He had looped his arm under your left leg to hold it in place.

Keeho then began to move his fingers down, teasing your entrance. With no warning he pumped his fingers into you. He was careful, listening for any signs of discomfort. As soon as he figured you were all clear he began to move his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace. It was driving you insane like a slow burn, all you wanted was to feel lost in Keeho’s touch.

“Please… just fuck me Kee!” You whined out to him, you didn’t really care about the pain or prep, you had been a virgin for so long you just wanted to be fucked.

He chuckled a little at your blunt response before flipping you over, you were now laying on your back. 

“This what you want?” He asked, gently spreading your legs again before discarding your panties. You nodded, an eager smile spreading across your face.

He began to take off his shorts, sliding his boxers down with them. He was big, and it was mortifying to you. Fear washed over your face as you saw his size. Keeho looked down at you, a smirk on his face.

“What? Is my pretty girl scared?” He leaned down, whispering huskily in your ear. You nodded, not being able to say anything. You were shocked, and definitely nervous.

“You wanna stop now, love?” He asked in a gentle tone. You nodded, hiding your face in your palms.

“It’s okay love, you do realize it's your first time so things may seem scary? We can always take it slow and try again next time.” Keeho whispered to you sweetly. He gently stroked your hair while his other hand was laying on your waist.

“I’m sorry… I just saw it and got really nervous.” You spoke quietly as you looked up at him. He smiled a little at your response.

“It’s okay, I promise. Now how about we get you cleaned up? A nice shower then we can go to bed.” He smiled at you and gently patted your hip. 

You nodded in response, happy at the fact that he was willing to take care of you.

“Thank you Keeho, love you.” You whispered to him, a soft smile appearing on your face.

“I love you too pretty, thank you for letting me do this with you.” He smiled back at you and gave you a small kiss on the cheek.

[jm-2406]

Summary - Tommy Shelby has been slowly drifting away from his only son after losing his wife. You are a nurse specialising in children's wards. When Frances comes running to the hospital with little Charlie in her arms, you decide to give a piece of mind to the bigshot gangster.

Words - 1.5k

Note - this is silly. I wrote it in less than one hour. It features an OOC Tommy Shelby and a daring reader who doesn't fear him like others.

Tommy Shelby, MP OBE was not used to getting calls between meetings, especially from his loyal housekeeper who knew when not to bother him. He was busy dealing with some important people, drowning himself in work like he usually did after Grace passed away. It was not that he didn't care for his son but sometimes looking at him was too difficult for him, the little boy had so much of Grace in him. So imagine his surprise when instead of Frances it was someone else on the other side of the telephone.

"Mr Shelby, I'm not Frances. My name is (Y/N) and I'd like to let you know that your son is not well. You should come as soon as possible to the hospital." You informed him without any hesitation, the concern for Charlie made your nervousness take a back seat plus not looking directly at his blue eyes also helped in retaining your confidence.

"What happened to him?" His lazy drawl came as a reply. "Well if you insist…" You tried to stall, tried to get under his skin so that he'd come to see his son but his silence made you speak up. "Mr. Shelby, I understand that you are grieving but so is your son. He was having a nightmare and needed someone to hold him close, to soothe him. I'd say he needed his father, not his nanny or Frances. Help yourself and your son by being there for him." Without thinking about the consequences, you pour your heart out and immediately hang up.

• • •

It has been a few days since the incident. You were worrying about Charlie and went to meet him directly at 'Arrow House'. [Yes, you are daring and a risk taker]. You knocked gently, arranging the basket of freshly baked cookies for the three-year-old cherub in your arms.

"Who are you?" A deep male voice caught your attention. Looking up, your breath got caught in your throat. Standing in front of you was the man of the house himself, Thomas Shelby. "What are you doing here?" You questioned foolishly instead. In your defence, you did not know that he'd be home at eleven o'clock since it was a Tuesday. He merely raised his eyebrow at your remark.

“If you didn't know Miss, this is my house. I live here.” Your cheeks reddened and you turned around to escape when a high-pitched voice stopped you. "(Y/N)" shouted Charlie. "Call her inside daddy. She's my friend." He said - more like ordered - his father who complied with a small "as you say, son." You felt a sense of comfort seeing the father and son interacting almost normally after that phone call incident.

Nervously, you stepped inside and Frances immediately took your coat as well as the basket of cookies. Charlie ran inside to get his colouring pages and asked you to wait for him. You were looking here and there, avoiding the dark-haired man but he had other plans.

"Thank you," Tommy said. You furrowed your brows in confusion. He cleared his throat and elaborated. "For making me realise that I was unknowingly neglecting my son, pushing him away from me. I love him, I really do. Thank you for making us come closer." He was not a man of words, especially praises but something about you got him talking, was it your kind nature, your non-judgemental eyes or your stern yet concerned voice when you called him that day that made him open up to you, he didn't know… but that is a topic for later.

"You're welcome, Mr Shelby. Charles is a sweet boy. I wish well for him." You blushed, no one had said such kind words to you. "How about you join us for dinner? Charlie would like that." Tommy said unexpectedly. Just as you were about to deny it, considering it rude to intrude, Charlie came running to you asking you to stay and colour with him. You couldn't say no to that adorable face.

And that's how you spent the evening, laughing and enjoying the company of two Shelby men, happier than ever.

• • •

[PART - 2]

It has been almost half a year since that evening you spent in the company of the Shelby men and you couldn't help but feel lucky. Everything went uphill after that, luckily.

You found out that you and Tommy had a lot in common which was surprising in itself. You both were mostly emotionally detached but were willing to cross any line if it meant saving your family, you both liked to read though Tommy was secretive about it for reasons you still didn't know, and nothing could surpass the love you had for horses, those strong yet gentle beasts were the only faithful friend you had… except for each other.

While your thoughts started to roam in dangerous territory, you were still unsure of Tommy's feelings on the matter. You have heard that the man was ruthless and incapable of feeling affection but you saw a side of him that was hidden from the world, his gentle and loving sight, his respectful side… you were certain that what you felt for him may not be love but it wasn't anything less. You decided to ignore this newfound feeling, unsure of what he felt.

The sudden knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. "What-?" You were confused about finding a drunk Tommy Shelby on your doorstep. "(Y/N) How are you my angel?" He continued to stare at you making you realise that this was an actual question and not a rhetorical one. "I - uhh - I am fine Tommy. What are you doing here at midnight?" You pulled him inside.

The sight of a drunk Tommy Shelby lying on your cheap broken sofa with the bottle of Irish whiskey clasped in his hand was unusually tempting and soft, as he gazed up at you with his bright blue eyes.

"Charlie loves you (Y/N). Did you know he was calling for you earlier today?" He whispered and gulped the remaining of the whiskey immediately after.

"No Tommy. I am sorry. I was busy today." Your heart broke hearing about the little boy calling for you and not finding you by his side. "Yeah. Being a lifesaver is not easy, eh?" He said rhetorically this time, placing his hands on your waist. The cool of his hands seeping through the thin material of your nightgown.

"I asked him to be a well-behaved little boy and I'll bring you to him… maybe permanently what say?"

You gasped hearing his words, not knowing what he was suggesting. "Tommy… you're drunk. We'll talk about it in the morning if you still remember what you said." You pushed him to your bedroom, tucking him in like you'd do for Charlie. taking the spare pillow and blanket, you laid down on the sofa.

• • •

"You alright Mr Shelby?" You asked giving him a painkiller. He looked at you with wide eyes, just like Charlie would… The resemblance between them always melted your heart.

He cleared his throat before addressing you. "(Y/N) about last night - uhh - I meant what - what I said." You gawked at him, The Tommy Shelby stuttering in front of you. You were definitely special to him.

"I - you mean - what exactly did you mean by 'permanently' last night?" Your cheeks reddened, little hair on your neck stood as you awaited his answer.

"I didn't plan for this to happen so spontaneously but we gotta do what we gotta do right?" He paused and you held your breath for his next words. "I'm not good with words so beware. Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) I am grateful for your help in more than one of my life problems. My son loves you and calls out for you all the time, I adore you and your strength. Will you do the honour of making me the luckiest man in Birmingham by marrying me?" Tommy pulled out a small jewellery box from his coat pocket and held before you a simple but elegant and beautiful princess-cut diamond ring.

You sobbed. "Is that even a question?" You nodded, unable to speak as he placed the ring on your finger. You jumped up, unable to control your excitement and hugged him with all your might. And for the first time in many years, Tommy Shelby was finally feeling peace. He felt a wave of hope… for himself and your future together.

• • •

[bunnybubae]

(M)🚦Red Light: The Fear | Ch1 [JJK]

👉🏻[Series Masterpost]

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (GymOwner!JK/MotoRacer!JK/Biker!JK-TattoArtist!OC)

Genre: S2L - Smut - Fluff - Angst

Summary: Jeon Jungkook never lets any distraction take him away from his motorcycle or his gym for more than one night. He just wants to speed around the track and feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, the sex he gets thanks to his charm, is just a side dish to his life. A tough past brought him on that Ducati that he learned to love, a past  you'll uncover, as you slowly seep in under his skin. It's a hell of a ride, in all senses, as you try to escape your own hell in the meanwhile.  Where will this ride bring you? Will it be worth it in the end?

Chapter Warnings: This chapter describes an episode of harassment (it involves an unwanted kiss), please be aware of this if this theme makes you uncomfortable, description of past emotional abuse (manipulation, toxic jealousy), Angst, mention of alcohol consumption, Oc's ex is a stalker, cops are grossly negligent in this au, Tae and Hani to the rescue, Jk is hot af but this is nothing new.

Wc: 7.4k

A/N: Hello there! I've been planning this whole series for over a year and I'm finally able to make it come to life, slowly but surely! As always, I'm sorry if there are some grammatical mistakes, english isn't my first language and I don't have a beta, so pls bear with me! 🫶🏻

Let me know what you think about the series, my box is always open! - Joy 🐰

September 12th, Tuesday

The sun has already set, leaving the place to the colors of dusk.

You feel that your heart might explode in your chest at any moment. Is it the september evening breeze that's causing the chills covering your skin, or if it's all due to this visceral fear that's blocking your muscles right now? You can't quite tell.

After some extra hours at work, you thought you could finally close the tattoo shop in peace and go home to enjoy some leftover pizza in front of your laptop, but no- Ray evidently had other plans for you, deciding to unexpectedly visit you in the most unpleasant way possible. 

You wish Hani had stayed a little longer today to close the shop with you, because this sickening feeling it's becoming unbearable. You feel like a mouse in front of a ravenous cat and you want to scream, but you just don't find the courage to do it. 

He caught you off guard from behind, while you were looking for the keys in your bag, then he effortlessly spun you around on the spot and you found yourself blocked by your shoulders leaning against the entrance door of the shop. 

Your throat tightens as you struggle to breathe regularly. 

You're helpless and right now the only thing you can do is curse the day you replied to his message on Instagram, curse the invitation to participate at that damn workshop you and Hani organized for an exchange of advertising between tattoo artists. You can only curse that day and the following ones you spent with him. Of course you couldn't imagine that your perfect relationship would turn into such a nightmare, your ex used to be so kind and loving with you at the beginning, not even close to the obsessive, pleading mess that's keeping you trapped in utter fear right now. Jealousy can sometimes turn into such an obsession evidently, it can change people and you never expected something like this to happen in your life. Everything only got worse when after almost a year in your toxic relationship, you found the courage to finally break up with him. 

Weeks had passed since the last time Ray had disgusted you with his threatening messages and unexpected visits during work, you were almost convinced he had found another hobby but as a matter of fact, you were wrong. 

He understood that you can ignore his messages or even block his number for good, that you won't listen to him when Hani or your clients are around, but you certainly won't be able to ignore his forced presence, especially now that you're totally alone. He knows he has your undivided attention in this way.

He slurs something but you can't even pay attention. His inked arms are situated on each side of your head, while he looks down at you with desperate eyes. You don't even recognize him anymore. He used to take extra care of his appearance and health back when you two used to date, but now it seems like he is facing a grave problem with drinking. His body is close to yours, way too close for your liking and his warm breath mixed with whatever alcohol he drank, almost makes you gag. 

The smell of his cologne is the only thing that's still the same and that you recognize, it hits your nostrils and it brings back memories that now only hurt.

“Y/N, baby- why do you keep ignoring me like this?” his voice is strained and his face is contorted in anger- or nostalgia, you can't even tell. "You're killing me and I always treated you well" He is trying to stop the thoughts that are clouding his mind, slurring out the words breathlessly.

"I fucking miss you! I don't know what else to do to make you mine again!" 

These words are filled with desperation and you hate it, his need for possession is crystal clear in his statements. He threatened you multiple times saying that if you didn't get back together he would harm himself, claiming that the pain was too strong for him to bear, but he never said he wanted you back because he loved you, not even once. The only thing that he misses is controlling you, the only thing that he loves is taking away everything from you, putting himself at the center of your world.

He only wants to call you his, like a mere emotionless object. You hate it, you hate him.

He probably never wanted to take care of your heart as you believed and the realization that you were in love with him once, that his twisted feelings were strong for you but not in a healthy way, it makes you sick to your stomach. You should have known better, but you were blinded by your feelings.

There was a moment when you thought that you deserved this treatment, you told yourself that you allowed all of this because you were too naive to notice that those toxic feelings were poisoning your persona, till it was too late and they suffocated you, caging you. 

"G-get away from me" you manage to say in a small voice as your heart thunders in your ears. Your stomach twists in a knot when you sense his moving hands. The fear turns into pure horror when his hands find their way to rest on your cheeks a little too harshly and you instinctively hold your breath.

His drunken lips crash into yours with urgency, and you feel like you might throw up at all the disgusting sensations you are experiencing right now. Your body reacts of its own accord, rejecting this desperate, unwanted kiss before he could deepen it or do something worse. 

“I said get away from me!” you scream in a broken voice as you try to push him away with all the strength you possess. 

Ray is looking at you, almost surprised that you had the courage to reject him. Despite your effort he doesn't budge much, it's like his feet are planted to the ground. 

You're not able to meet his bloodshot eyes as you desperately try to free yourself. He's mumbling something that you can't quite comprehend and then his heavy hands are pushing your shoulders against the cold glass of the shop entrance, once again.

You didn't know you were crying until your vision started to blur with tears. This feeling of helplessness is the same one that kept you stuck in Ray's twisted love for months. 

Red flags were scattered all around, he started by making you doubt your abilities as an artist to then insistently ask you to pass all your male clients to Hani, co-owner of the shop as well as your best friend ever since you were children. She was the one who covered up your lies with Ray, as you tried to keep your clients aways from his madness.

He bulldozed everything around you, but Hani always stayed by your side, refusing to believe Ray's lies. She was your sturdy pillar when everything around you was falling apart. 

It was when Ray began to spread heavy lies about her, to lead you to break the agreements and contract with her, that you finally understood the gravity of the situation, that he was capable of totally ruining your life if you allowed him to manipulate you further. 

The threatening texts and stalking episodes that followed are nothing compared to what keeping a relationship with him could have entailed.

You're not sure when Ray started behaving in a toxic manner, cause you still remember the rosy beginning of your relationship and everything was just fine. Hani says she started noticing changes when he decided to surprise you one day at the shop and found the both of you engaged in a simple conversation with some male regulars. This evidently made him very jealous, because from that moment, the ordeal began. 

Your thoughts and sobbing are interrupted when Ray goes from mumbling pleas to insulting you with hatred, while his hands squeeze your shoulders as if to make sure to imprint on your skin all that he is feeling for you. 

You're not sure how you managed to free yourself from his grip, next thing you know you're running with all the strength you have left in your body, abandoning the alley of the shop to find a safer place. You hear him calling your name a couple of times as you put more and more distance between you. You fear that he might follow you and block you once again and the mere thought of finding yourself defenseless in the arms that once wrapped you with apparent affection, is enough to make new tears flow down your cheeks. 

The streets are almost empty and after reaching one that is well illuminated by shop signs, you look around to make sure he is not after you. When you make sure he is nowhere to be found, you grab your phone with shaky hands to call your best friend. You keep walking down the sidewalk as you try to calm your crying. 

“Y/N?” 

After a few rings, Hani answers the phone and hearing her voice ruins your desperate attempt to stay calm. You let out a liberating cry as you tell her that Ray really went too far this time. 

You knew that Hani had a date with her boyfriend, Taehyung, who she met several months ago at the shop. Tae got a tattoo from her and from that moment they became inseparable. You knew they were going out to dinner and you feel bad ruining their date like this, but they are the only people you can trust who know everything about your struggles with your ex.

Hani speaks quickly but gently on the phone, she clearly tries to keep calm while she tells you to go to the bar that you often visit after work, located just a few minutes away from the shop. She reassures you, telling you that they would be there as soon as possible. 

“Don't hang up until you get there, okay?” Hani adds, she can probably sense how shaken you are by what just happened and leaving you alone, even if it's over the phone, is out of question.

“I'm almost there,” you reply weakly through your sobs as you keep walking. You dry your face and try to normalize your breathing when you reach the small street where the bar is located. It's a quiet little place that holds countless memories for you and Hani, it was there that you and her celebrated the purchase of your tattoo shop a few years ago and it's where you return whenever you feel the need to unplug for a moment, while remaining in an familiar environment that makes you feel at ease. 

You walk through the entrance still holding your phone to your ear. The warmth hits your limbs pleasantly while lounge music and the smell of beer begin to envelop you like a blanket. 

On the other end of the phone you hear a loud windy noise and you deduce that Hani has already gotten on the motorcycle with Tae and that they are therefore about to arrive.

You feel a little calmer.

You end the call, knowing that Hani can't hear you and instead you opt for a text, informing her you'll wait for them at your usual spot. 

When you scan the place, you're glad it's only a tuesday as there are only a few people. You reach the slightly more secluded area of the place and you sit at your favorite table. The place is filled with fairy lights hanging above your head, their light hitting the brickstone of the walls and the wooden furniture just right, giving a cozy vibe that you always liked.

You then take off your jacket and your bag before sitting down, glad to have some dividers shielding you as you feel the aftermath of the adrenaline rush coming to you, all your strength drains away. Your shoulders ache from the tension and because of Ray's grip on them, your feet throb from the wild run and your heart continues to beat like a concert is taking place inside your ribs. You lean on the table with your elbows as you bring your hands to your head to massage your temples.

How could you ever imagine to find yourself in a similar situation?

You naively refused to believe that Ray was capable of hurting you in any way. He was too sweet and helpful with you at the beginning to think he was evil, your shared passion for arts was the core of your relationship and you also learned something new about the art of tattooing thanks to him. You were grateful for all the help he gave you in the shop. Ray is also objectively hot and the physical attraction and sexual chemistry were very strong between you.

Everything was pretty perfect.

Too much indeed, to the point that thinking about it now you wonder how you didn't notice how much the whole thing was stinking a mile away. You couldn't imagine that behind his perfect appearance and behavior, there was such an obsessed manipulator. You truly believed that he loved you like you loved him.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hands. Whatever he has done now, you're sick to ask help from the cops, they did nothing useful when you needed them in the past.

"We can't handcuff a guy without clear evidence that he's acting in bad faith, he's a heartbroken young man trying to win his girlfriend back!" 

These were the words they said only two months ago, when you tried to report his constant messages and stalking episodes. Nobody did anything. They dwelt mostly on the threats he sent, on the fact that he said he was going to hurt himself if you didn't answer or consider getting back together with him and they also didn't think his repeated visits were something to worry about, since he used to do that when you were still together, in their opinion.

They even had the courage to tell you that you guys are young, that people are made to make mistakes and learn from them and all that bullshit people say when they need  to give air to their mouths. 

They made him seem like the victim here and you are so sick to deal with this bullshit, you'd rather lock yourself home and never get out than asking their useless help once again. 

You don't feel safe anyway, neither without nor with them.

You've resigned to the idea that you can't count on them and that you must do something yourself, but what can you do against a much taller and stronger guy?

You shiver at the thought but then your attention is drawn by a soft voice.

“Hey,” when you lift your head, your gaze softens as it meets your best friend's face. She promptly sits next to you without even taking off her motorcycle jacket and gloves and she pulls you into her arms.

"I swear if I see him around I'll gouge out his eyes and make earrings out of them." 

Hani states as she continues to soothe you in her embrace. A little smile creeps on your face, mostly because you know that she would be perfectly capable of doing what she just said. 

She is scary sometimes, but you love her nonetheless. 

You feel an extra hand caressing your shoulder "That's a creepy way to do some recycling but I approve" Taehyung adds in a lighter tone, when you move to look at him you notice he is looking down at you with a sad smile on his face.

Since Tae started dating Hani, he has become a dear friend to you, you love the natural way he takes care of her, and you appreciate the several times he came to your rescue, having a fight with Ray to defend you. He is a good friend. You smile at him but the smile doesn't reach your puffy reddened eyes. 

It's nice to know that your friends are always there for you, you feel so helpless though, so fragile right now. 

Tae orders the usual for the three of you and some snacks from a passing waiter, and then he joins you and Hani at the table, both of them ready to listen to you.

“Thank you guys for coming- I'm sorry I ruined your date.” you feel guilty and your voice is still trembling a little bit. 

“Don't even joke about it, Y/N.” Tae's tone is almost scolding as he fixes their motorcycle jackets next to him. 

“You know that Tae and I see each other almost every day," Hani says "You don't have to worry about that.” 

“It's just that I- I never felt so weak before” you admit as your eyes begin to shine again, unshed tears gathering on the rim of your lower eyelid, threatening to fall at any moment. 

“I tried to push him away when he kissed me.” the memory of his lips on yours makes you shudder, so much so that you can't believe that there was a time instead when you craved those lips all over your body. 

"I was barely able to push him off of me." Hani and Tae keep listening, anger readable on their faces as you recount what happened. You manage to speak on the verge of crying, your eyes glimmer but this time you find the strength to keep your tears at bay. You feel anger taking over your fear right now, that's probably why you refuse to cry over your disgusting ex and his demeanor yet again.

Hani interjects, stating that she'll do all the closing at the shop with you from now on, adding that she's starting to consider buying you some pepper spray, so you can empty it on his face if he shows up again.

The waiter returns with your orders and some water, telling you to call him back if you need anything else. He seems to have noticed your mood and doesn't want to interfere too much while remaining at your service anyway. You thank him with a warm smile before he goes back to doing his job elsewhere.

“Pepper spray is a good idea and you should buy it if it makes you feel a little safer," Tae begins "but I have another idea.” he adds before sipping his drink.

“I have a friend who races with me who also owns a gym, he even teaches kids how to throw good punches and stuff.”

You had almost completely forgotten that Tae participates in a regional motorcycle racing championship every year, Hani did nothing but talk about it at the beginning of their relationship. 

Hani nods vigorously after taking a sip of her own drink, agreeing with her boyfriend. 

"It wouldn't be a bad idea actually!" she says “Punching the shit out of that dick head would be even more satisfying!”

Tae fishes his wallet out of his jacket pocket and then rummages through its folds. When he finds what he was looking for, he places a business card on the table and pushes it towards you. 

"Jungkook took care of the gym full time before also dedicating himself to racing" he explains "Now there is a guy who helps him with the management, but he prefers to take care of the main courses himself"

You collect the business card while pondering what to do. Taking some boxing lessons might help you boost your confidence, your strength and it might be a good distraction as well.

"It's not that far from the shop" you recognize the name of the gym having passed in front of it a few times while you wanted to buy breakfast in a nearby coffee shop before your shift at work. You could use the opportunity to learn something new that you could also use to your advantage if needed.

You listen while Tae tries to explain what he knows about the gym, telling you that his friend Jungkook mainly handles the children's class in the early afternoon and the adult's class that starts at 7pm. That wouldn't be bad for you, since your closing time is around 6 pm, cleaning up and preparing the shop for the next day won't take much time.

“If you decide to try, tell him I sent you,” Tae continues “I can already tell you tho- Jungkook loves to joke, sometimes a little too much, but he's a good guy and knows how to be serious when necessary” 

You slightly nod, looking back at the piece of paper in your hands. 

You can try, and if you don't like it you can always leave. 

You can grab an uber or whatever to reach the place and to go back home. It should be fine if you book it a little earlier, so you don't have to wait alone outside.

"Okay," you suddenly say "I think I'll give it a try." 

Hani and Tae both smile, visibly content with your choice.

"Do you want me to walk you there?" Hani asks "It'll be a 30ish minute walk" You accept Hani's proposal without thinking too much.

"How about thursday?" you add "We can go together and then I'll get organized with uber and stuff"

Hani agrees, then she drifts her attention to Tae, who starts to discuss with her the time and place he will be coming to pick her up after she drops you at the gym.

The evening continues normally, you regain your tranquility bit by bit, even tho there is always a pinch of sadness and anger bothering you in the back of your mind. Sharing some quiet moments with your friends managed to cheer you up enough to genuinely laugh at the silly bickering between the two lovebirds. 

You can't help but wonder if you'll be able to get over this mess anytime soon.

When it's time to go home, Hani decides that she will be spending the night with you at the apartment you once shared for more than a year, before she started to crash often at Tae's.

Ray could always decide to make the situation worse by showing up at your door, you think. If he decides to do so, Hani could create those famous eyeballs-earrings much sooner, she said. The joke makes you all chuckle, you are happy to have them by your side, gosh- you truly are grateful.

Spending time with them definitely improved your mood and you feel like you can overcome this bad period of your life, with time and patience. 

You thank Tae who waited for your uber to arrive before putting on his helmet and get on his motorcycle.

You feel incredibly tired but hopeful, this new experience could really help you on multiple fronts.

September 14th, Thursday

When you wake up, you feel like you've slept for barely 2 hours, but it's been like this since the whole stalking shit started, so. You lack your usual enthusiasm, that unbridled desire to create works of art on other people's skin, it's slowly vanishing away and that worries you. 

You do your best to react though. The day goes by better than yesterday, your appointments at the shop flow smoothly one after the other and some potential customers have come to ask for some info on the costs of piercings, something Hani mainly manages. 

You keep your mood up to meet your customers' requests, to smile and make them feel comfortable.

You are finishing the last touches on the skin of your last client of the day when, looking up at the clock hanging on the wall, you realize that soon it will be time to close, you shudder a little even if you know that Hani will close the shop with you this time, it's been only two days after all, the events are still too fresh. You let the buzzing sound of the pen distract you as you fill the last bit of skin with ink.

In no time, the shop is empty and silent again, except for Hani who has the pleasant habit of humming as she tidies up her side of the shop. You finish cleaning your station while your mind wanders. You think that it was so natural and easier to enjoy the peace of this place before. 

This has always been a safe place for you, your very home. Of course, the concept of home is usually a place where you don't do your job, where you sleep, eat and rest. You pay the rent for the apartment, but this is still where you spend most of your time, this is that place that you know you will never leave, that you feel it's yours, that when you walk through the door makes you feel in your element.

It shouldn't be that difficult now, it's still the same shop, but the need to hide your appointments to avoid arguments with your ex in the past and the fear you began to feel as time passed, have tarnished what this place means to you. Your face drops in sadness at the thought. You want to go back to loving this place like you've always done at all costs and find some serenity again. Tattooing has always been your passion, something that sadly distanced you from your parents, who always wished you would pursue a different career. You won't let Ray ruin what you accomplished with sacrifices.

The shop shines when you're done, you pick up the bag previously prepared for the gym and you and Hani close the shop together. 

You hope these lessons can help you release some stress.

Hani walks by your side, talking about everything and nothing, sharing a little laugh when you tell her that you can't wait to punch a sandbag imagining Ray's face. 

The evening is pleasantly chilly and you're almost at the gym when you ask Hani if she wants you to wait with her for Tae to arrive.

“Don't worry I'll meet him at the corner,” she reply "besides, the class has already started, you should head inside."

You look at your phone, realizing it's way past 7:30pm already and you begin to feel a little anxious. Hani then tells you to call her or Tae if you need anything, even if they're going to spend the evening at the movies, she makes sure that you know you can always rely on them.

You nod, smiling "Thanks for being there Hani, I don't know how I'd have reacted to all of this alone" You truly don't know. Hani waves her hand "Don't even joke abaut it" she replies, mirroring your smile. 

"You even talk like Tae now!"

She rolls her eyes but she knows you are just teasing her.

“I want to know everything about your first lesson tomorrow!” she emphatically throws a few empty and totally random punches. You giggle at the scene shaking your head “Sure sure- I’ll show you what I learn.” 

“As long as you don't punch me, I'm fine with it.” You push her playfully and then you say goodbye as she walks away and you enter the gym.

It seems like a recently renovated place. You expected the usual smell of sweat and plastic typical of the gyms, but you are actually surprised to catch a fresh hint of flowers in the air. You notice a small reception near the entrance door, a well decorated counter with all sorts of flyers on top and red and blue led lights that illuminate the gym logo in the front, but there is no one behind the counter to welcome you. 

You take a few steps through an arch that leads to what is apparently the main area of the gym. 

The floor is mostly covered with a rubber tatami and you see some hanging plants and flower pots by the walls, which explains the very subtle smell in the air. Different tools and dumbbells are scattered around while several people are engaged in exercises of various kinds in front of some floor to ceiling mirrors.

You scan the place, pleased by the vibe it radiates. It surely is strange to find so many flowers and plants in a place like this, but it gives an original touch to it. Your gaze lands on a bunch of guys wearing boxing gloves while observing the explanation of an exercise. The one that's explaining, according to Tae's description, should be his friend Jungkook, who is standing in front of them while performing the exercise in question as an example.

Wow. Those are some wide shoulders right there. 

You watch him intently as the dark haired guy moves. Something about his movements is attractive and you guess it's just him when he turns around and you notice the lip ring that Tae had told you about and the right arm completely full of colorful tattoos that you are already dying to curiously inspect. Yup, he's hot.

You watch him from the entrance as he performs the exercise with ease, his muscles flex and you can glimpse at them while his clothes deliciously wrap around his body. Tae could have warned you, it's gonna be hard to concentrate with this guy.

Jungkook almost seems to sense your gaze on him when, once his explanation is over, he turns towards the entrance you are standing at and your eyes meet for a moment. You tense up cursing at yourself, gawking at a complete stranger at the gym is creepy, But then you notice he's smiling while he approaches you and the group of guys he left is now performing the exercise.

"Can I help you?" 

Of course, even his voice had to be hot. Fuck. You shift on your spot, clutching the bag you're carrying on your shoulder as you hope the warmth you're feeling on your face doesn't color your cheeks.

"You must be Jungkook," you reply, feeling a little awkward. Why even the sound of your own voice sounds stupid to you right now, damn.

"In the flesh." he responds confidently, pushing his hair back with his fingers.

Ok, now it's fucking clear as day that this guy knows very well that he is good looking and that he has an effect, which makes you think that he must be used to the women eating him up with their eyes.

"And you are?" he asks with curiosity laced in his voice. 

"Uh sorry, I'm Y/N" you compose your thoughts trying to ignore the increasing awkwardness you feel explaining that "Taehyung told me about your class and I would like to give it a try." 

"Kim Taehyung? Are you two friends?" He seems surprised as his eyebrows raise.

“Yeah, his girlfriend is my best friend.” 

Jungkook chuckles by himself, amused by something you ignore. 

"You're the tattoo artist, aren't you?" he asks, smiling as if he figured a puzzle or something like that.

“Did he say I was coming?”

“Not exactly,” Jungkook replies “but I met your best friend at Tae's a few times and I heard her say your name while speaking to Tae.” He seems pleased by the coincidence. 

The fact that he remembers this small thing doesn't surprise you that much, but you start to feel anxious wondering if he happened to hear something related to your situation with Ray, you'd rather avoid talking about it. It's already difficult to deal with it with your friends, but most of all, you don't need compassion.

Jungkook observes you momentarily, and almost as if he sensed the drift of your thoughts, he beckons you to follow him towards a freer area of the gym. You follow him till you reach a set of gloves neatly arranged in one corner. 

“Can I see your hands?” he asks casually.

"Sure." You leave the bag you're carrying on your shoulder on the ground, moving it to the side so it's not in the way, then you bring your hands forward with your palms facing up to let him observe them. Jungkook gently gathers your hands, and his touch is so delicate you barely feel it. He observes carefully, humming while he tries to figure out which pair of boxing gloves would fit you well.

It's not even a proper touch, it almost feels like the slight tickle that a feather would give and it's... pleasant. You're not completely indifferent as his fingers continue to brush the back of your hands, the sensation making you feel a little shy even though he is just looking at your hands and nothing more.

"Try these" His fingers leave you to take and offer you a particular pair of boxing gloves that he thinks might fit you. You inspect them briefly, wincing a little at the sweaty feel that envelops your hands as you put them on. 

You feel your hands swimming inside, indicating that they are too big for you. You look at Jungkook asking “Do you have a slightly smaller pair?” Jungkook seems to have already considered the possibility that these were too big. He is giggling as he hands you another pair of seemingly smaller and more colorful boxing gloves and you see him try to bite back the smile that's on his pink lips. You can't help but think that the way he scrunches up his nose is actually cute.

You switch up the gloves with the colorful one, immediately understanding why he was chuckling like that. “I know, it's a big problem for me,” you admit, chuckling at your own hands, “I can't find latex gloves that fit perfectly 'cause of this” He laughs with you, amused by the smile that formed on your face when you noticed that the gloves he gave you are for children, specifically a blue and red spiderman themed pair. 

"Using the words 'big problem" just made the whole thing funnier!"

"Well, I'll throw spider punches today." you joke.

Jungkook let's out a small laugh as he is looking at you with something in his eyes, you're probably the first grown up who needs kid's gloves and you catch him subtly checking you out.

This sense of lightness, simple yet helpful for your tired mind, is doing some good to you, you can feel it as you notice that you're exchanging genuine smiles and gazes since you started talking.

You follow him, avoiding to step on the tatami with your shoes as you approach the corner with different punch bags. He stands next to you in front of one of the standing punch bags available.

“Alright- so, there's no need to throw hard punches, for now just show me how you throw them.”

"But I don't know how!" you admit.

"Exactly, I want to see your natural movements, to understand what we'll have to work on'' Jungkook replies as he crosses his arms on his chest. The motion captures your eyes for a moment too long. That sleeve tattoo looks perfectly done and you barely refrained to take a closer look, the delicious way his tatted muscles are popping out of his white t-shirt is too distracting.

"Now show me how those little hands would hit the bag" his tone has slightly changed and he is smirking at you. He's teasing purposely and you think you saw him winking at you, or maybe you just imagined it. You roll your eyes as an attempt to save yourself from the embarrassment of being caught gawking at him like that. 

You ignore the persistent warmth on your cheeks and try to remember the movements you saw earlier, as he explained to those guys. They seemed to get into position before they did anything else, so you try to imitate the movements you remember as best as you can.

You bring your left arm across your chest as your right arm punches the punch bag in front of you with ease. Jungkook's face is fully concentrated, he hums as he nods a couple of times, his gaze lost as he ponders on the movements he just saw. 

“Okay, first of all- your left arm.” Jungkook moves, putting himself between you and the punch bag. 

"Get back in position again, the one before you throw the punch" 

You promptly do what he asked, repeating the previous movements once again. You stop when your arms are folded like before and you're ready to throw the punch. Jungkook's hands move as he says "Relax your shoulders." and then they gently rest on you.

This time his touch is not a simple featherlike brush, you feel the weight of his hands resting delicately on your skin and you stiffen at the contact. He said you should relax, but his hands on you caused the opposite reaction.

Ray and his hands come to your mind, the feeling of him holding you against the glass door is fogging your thoughts again, even though Jungkook's touch is soft and gentle on you.

You wince a little, taking a step back instinctively. Jungkook immediately withdraws his hands, sensing your discomfort. 

"S-sorry, I was trying to correct your posture, I didn't mean to-"

“No- it's fine" you interrupt him, suppressing the negative emotions that started to poison your guts.

You really want to focus and learn and until now, you had no idea your ex's behavior has affected you up to this point. 

Jungkook watches you dubiously, you can't decipher the expression adorning his beautiful face right now, he seems worried, thoughtful, maybe he's wondering what kind of an idiot would want to learn how to throw punches and then reacts like this at the slightest physical contact. 

The idea of having to give up because of this sensation, pisses you off. You gulp the lump on your throat while you close your eyes briefly, then you resume the position, being careful to relax your shoulders this time.

"Better?" you ask in a calm voice. Jungkook nods with a faint smile on his face. Even if he probably noticed there's something wrong, you're glad he's not asking questions. 

"What else wasn't right?" 

Jungkook notices your determination to continue and returns to your side again, opting for a demonstrative explanation this time.

He moves his body naturally and you observe him carefully. His movements are so precise and satisfying to watch and the desire to learn, to achieve more or less this naturalness, gives you the right push to continue. Most of all, now that you know that Ray left this horrible sensation on your skin, you're determined to get rid of it. 

Jungkook explains the importance of taking a correct position, to be able to hurt and not get hurt. A faint smile returns to your face at his way of explaining this kind of thing with passion and care. 

You imitate his movements by moving your left foot forward, your left arm at your chest like before but slightly higher, until your glove touches the side of your chin. When you feel that you have planted your foot well on the ground, with a slight movement of your shoulders, you accompany your right fist towards the bag, also rotating your pelvis slightly.

And just like that, you land a perfect punch on the punch bag.

Jungkook cheers softly so as not to disturb the others but his satisfaction is evident. You smile to see him so taken for so little, but you have to admit that you feel pumped, and yes- it was only one perfectly landed punch.

“That's a great start!” he adds enthusiastically. 

"So even small hands can throw some good punches huh!" You laugh softly and Jungkook joins you, genuinely amused.

"I'm sure those little punches will be able to do a lot of harm soon!" he declares "If you wanna join the gym, of course." 

This is what you needed to hear, it gives you courage, you can't wait to feel totally comfortable with your abilities, you're ready to commit to this and Jungkook saw it, when you eagerly said "Of course I want!"

That -little episode- long forgotten when you two started to talk comfortably that evening. Jungkook took some time to explain how and when he gives his lessons and to show you around the gym as well as the female's locker room, making sure you knew you could use everything you wanted once you felt comfortable enough to train alone.

From that day, you started going to the gym almost regularly. To be honest, as time passed, you couldn't wait to get back on that tatami to train after work, it soon became a healthy habit.

And, on the other side, you could see Jungkook.

You like having him around, you and him started bantering all the time almost instantly. You got used to his presence and his ways of teasing pretty fast and he's been a breath of fresh air for you. You've been attracted to him since day one, you're not gonna lie, but he soon became some kind of a friend. 

Yeah, that kind of friend you'd gladly rip their clothes off, but whatever.

The lethal mix of wide shoulders, buff body, lip ring, tatted arm and that sweet face of his when he smiles and scrunch up his cute nose… 

Yup, you're kinda crushing on him and training with him almost everyday it's quite challenging.

You two share a nice friendship, but it's clear that something else is hidden underneath. The constant glances and flirty jokes at the gym are proof of that and from time to time you also catch him pretending not to be looking at your butt. 

You are more at ease now and that's also thanks to him and his lessons.

Everything seems to be falling back to place, if not an even better one. 

Ray has been silent since that night outside the shop. No messages, no calls, no unexpected visits, no nothing. The fear to meet him again is still persistent and sometimes the horrible things he did to you still haunt your mind, but you're now able to manage to get rid of it in no time. You're more confident, you sleep better and you're learning a bunch of new stuff that keeps your mind busy.

You feel like you're able to breathe again, like you got your life back in your hands. 

Hani walked with you to the gym a few more times after the first time, but you soon started to book an uber to go and get back. It wasn't difficult to get into a rhythm: you book it through your phone a little earlier, so you don't have to wait outside and that's it, like this you're able to close the shop and get into the car immediately and when you have to go back home, you take a shower at the gym, say your goodbyes and head outside, where your uber is already waiting for you. Simple and effective.

Just to be extra sure, you leave your lessons a little earlier, like at 9pm instead of 10pm. Better safe than sorry.

Jungkook never asked the reason why you always leave early, not explicitly at least. Sometimes he's teased you by asking if you quit training early to fight crime with your cute hands, a recurring joke you always involuntarily smile at. Tae had warned you after all, Jungkook jokes a lot and in all this time spent at the gym, training with him, you had the opportunity to see for yourself.

There's something though that seems to creep behind his eyes every now and then and you can't quite put your finger on what. Sometimes he seems extremely thoughtful or even sad, even a few moments after he just cracked a joke. 

You never had the courage to ask, just like he never asked why you reacted like that the first time he touched you. You don't want to ask him what's bothering him and apparently he doesn't want to ask you either. Jungkook began to invade your thoughts just like that, with ease, and this hidden mystery behind his beautiful brown eyes keeps drawing you to him more and more.

| [Next Chapter] ▶

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : VII]

Read in Ao3 : here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Special OS : Phantom Thread

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

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

Perhaps that’s why Qimir chose to remain hidden on Olega, despite it being home to the Jedi Temple, a major stronghold of the galaxy’s peacekeepers.

For most people, there was no reason to fear the Jedi, who were meant to protect them from harm. But that wasn’t the case for you. You remembered well what Qimir had told you: the Jedi were looking for you, too. Even though their exact motives remained unclear, the sense of paranoia never left your mind. Especially after the massacre on Tatooine, you and Qimir felt like fugitives—always just one step away from being caught if any evidence linking you to the crime surfaced and exposed your secret.

You hated being here. Given a choice, you would have fled to some remote planet at the edge of the galaxy. But Qimir had different ideas. “Most of those who know about your bounty are outlaws or trade federations. Neither group gets along with the Jedi, so they won’t be snooping around places where Jedi gather,” he reasoned. “And the Jedi? They’re too preoccupied with galactic affairs to pay much attention to the planet they’re on. Besides, you don’t have the Force, so finding you would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.”

Qimir wasn’t wrong. Life on Olega had turned out to be unexpectedly peaceful. Despite the city’s persistent chaos, it made hiding much easier. You and Qimir had managed to stay under the radar for over a year without major problems. Everything had settled so seamlessly that you almost forgot what it was like to be on the run from other planets.

With no need to keep moving, Qimir had shifted from his life as an illegal mercenary to opening a modest pharmacy. He also worked as a broker, selling medicines and various odds and ends to travelers passing through. Meanwhile, you had taken on the role of his assistant and personal apprentice. Qimir was dedicated to teaching you both the theory and practice of his knowledge, especially in combat. He also encouraged you to continue developing your powers rather than suppressing them as you had before. Like your mother, Qimir believed your abilities were too valuable to be wasted.

“Haven’t you ever thought,” Qimir once said, “that someone like you could rise to replace the Jedi one day? With your power, you could bring far more to the galaxy than they ever could.”

His words seemed absurd, like a far-fetched joke meant to tease you. You laughed every time, confident that such a thing would never happen.

Never getting involved with the Jedi, no matter what, had always been your rule for survival.

But sometimes, fate can be cruelly ironic, and this was a joke that wasn’t amusing at all.

That's what occurs at noon on a Friday—one of fate's cruel jokes when you unexpectedly find yourself face-to-face with a group of Jedi.

It all takes place at Qimir’s pharmacy on a day he isn’t around. Lately, he has been disappearing more frequently—sometimes for two or three hours, or even the better part of a day—claiming he has business to attend to involving herbal shipments from other planets. As a result, you’re left to run the store in his absence, handling the medicines and assisting customers as usual.

But everything changes the moment the shop’s bell rings and the door swings open. Brilliant sunlight floods the store, heralding the arrival of three strangers you’ve never seen before.

One of them is a teenage theelin-human hybrid girl, with paper-white skin adorned with spots and orange hair with small horns encircling her head like a crown. The other two are human men—one middle-aged, with long black hair tied in a half-ponytail, his face stern and serious; the other younger, with sharp features, sun-bronzed skin, and a tall, muscular frame, likely not much older than you.

They couldn’t be more different from each other, except for their identical attire. They’re dressed in light yellow tunics, covered by long brown robes, and each wears a large belt with the unmistakable emblem of the Jedi Order.

Jedi—The realization hits you like a bolt of lightning the moment your eyes land on their belts, and you instinctively draw in a sharp breath.

You quickly wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt, composing yourself with practiced ease. Lifting your head from behind the counter, you address them with a polite, businesslike smile. “How may I assist the three of you today?”

The older man, likely a Jedi Master, introduces himself with courtesy as Sol, while the young girl, his Padawan, is named Jecki. The other young man, a Jedi Knight, is introduced as Yord. “We’re here on a mission,” Sol informs you, his voice laced with concern. “We’re investigating a serious incident that occurred in this city.”

You have no idea what serious incident he’s referring to or how severe it must be to involve the Jedi. For a moment, your mind jumps to the possibility that it might be connected to you—until Jecki explains further, warning you to keep the information strictly confidential.

It turns out that the serious incident is a series of murders currently happening on Olega. Four bodies in four months—each victim a high-ranking Jedi responsible for overseeing the temple here.

"Since the incident is still recent, the killer might be someone who just moved here or snuck into the city illegally," Sol continues. "There are many of these types around the spaceports, which is why we need to increase security in those areas to ensure the safety of the citizens."

You can tell Sol's words hold only a half truth. The Jedi aren't particularly concerned about the lives of citizens since the killer's targets are not random people but specifically high-ranking Jedi.

The presence of the three Jedi at the pharmacy today is no coincidence. As a newcomer here, you're automatically placed among the suspects, though none of them have the nerve to say it outright to your face.

Understanding this, you begin to relax a little. After all, you have nothing to do with these murders, so there's no reason to worry. You just need to play along with the Jedi's charade until it's over.

Sol, the group's leader, takes charge of questioning you, with Jecki also taking part in the interrogation. Most of their questions are basic: had you noticed anything strange or seen any unusual people recently? They also delve into your personal history—your identity, background, and reasons for ending up on this planet.

You respond naturally, mixing truth with lies, careful not to arouse suspicion. You're confident in your ability to act convincingly—that is, until you sense the sharp gaze of the one Jedi in the group who hasn’t said a word.

You furrow your brow, the intense scrutiny from the Jedi named Yord making you increasingly uncomfortable. You try to ignore him, but there's something inexplicably magnetic about his presence—an instinctive urge that draws you to meet his gaze.

At first, you think he's trying to catch you in a lie, but when you see his expression, you're surprised.

He’s not scrutinizing you for deception—he’s staring at you in shock, as if you’re some kind of ghost.

As you peer deeply into his brown eyes with curiosity, time seems to stretch unnaturally long. You find yourself not looking at the present but plunging into the past. Every moment flashes before your eyes like pages of a book flipping by—one year, ten years, a hundred years, up to a thousand years.

Suddenly, your consciousness is yanked back to the present. You startle as your entire body trembles with the icy chill sweeping over you. Pain surges through you like a jolt of electricity, followed by the sticky sensation of blood trickling from your nose.

You know exactly what’s happening. The side effects of your vision are punishing you for seeing what was not meant to be seen.

Closing your eyes, you take slow, deep breaths, trying to steady yourself and acclimate to the pain. As your senses return, you hear Sol’s concerned voice. "Are you all right?"

"I’m fine," you quickly reply, shaking your head while wiping the blood from your nose with a handkerchief. You feign composure, even though the lingering pain continues to gnaw at you from within.

Sol looks at you with disbelief, but he doesn’t press further. His face betrays concern, and you can’t help but think how fitting he is as a Jedi. His every gesture screams 'purity' If goodness had a color, this man would be the brightest white—so blinding it hurts to look at.

The awkward silence breaks as Sol clears his throat, returning to the topic at hand. “We still don’t have any more leads on the perpetrator, other than the fact that they’re highly skilled with weapons—probably a former soldier or maybe...” He trails off, as if he almost let something slip, but catches himself just in time. "Anyway, if you find any suspicious leads, don’t hesitate to contact me or any other Jedi.”

You watch as Sol places a thin metal card on the counter before bidding you farewell with the classic phrase, "May the Force be with you." He and the other Jedi then leave the pharmacy quietly.

You reach for the card, running your fingers along its cold metallic edge. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s an electronic contact card, storing his information. The front clearly reads, ‘Sol, Human, Jedi Master.

For a brief moment, you consider throwing it far away, but something compels you to tuck it into your pocket instead.

The sun slowly sinks, signaling the approach of evening. Hours have passed, but you're still lost in thought, pondering the group of Jedi you encountered—especially Sol’s story of the horrifying Jedi murder case. Though it has nothing to do with you directly, you can't shake the unease creeping into your mind. It's an inexplicable feeling of foreboding, devoid of any logical reason, as if instinct itself is whispering from deep within, warning you to be cautious. Yet you have no idea what or whom you should be wary of.

And then, there's another matter weighing heavily on your mind—the Jedi Knight named Yord.

His name has settled deep into your thoughts, etched onto your lips. A strange sense of familiarity fills your chest, as though you’ve known him before, despite seeing his face and hearing his name for the first time today.

How odd you think, fragments of a past you can barely recall flicker in your mind, disjointed and unclear. You want to focus your power on a vision, to delve deeper into the memory, but your body is too frail. It would only bring more pain. All you can do now is predict the hazy path of the future, as far as your bruised mind will allow.

You close your eyes, adjusting your breathing to a slow, steady rhythm. You let your mind sink into the stream of consciousness of possible futures.

There’s a ninety percent chance.

Certainty rises inside you—the answer you seek will come when you meet him again... soon.

The Bene Gesserit meditation gradually envelops your mind, nurturing it with such calm and a cold, almost numb detachment. Your fingers gently brush against the knife hidden in your cloak, recognizing that it may become necessary if things spiral out of control.

You step toward the front door of the shop, hand reaching for the handle, but a sudden hesitation grips you, freezing you in place.

A moment of silence surrounds you. You feel like a fish swimming towards a hook, drawn into a dangerous situation you shouldn't be involved with. The closer you get, the harder it becomes to turn back.

But in the end, you open the door anyway.

You stand there, waiting for something to happen. It doesn’t take long before someone grabs your arm, pulling you swiftly into the narrow alley beside the shop, hidden from the bustling street.

Your back hits the wooden wall of a nearby house—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to knock the wind out of you. You look up, meeting Yord's eyes with a calm expression, showing no sign of surprise. You know he is waiting for you, just as you are waiting for him.

“Be careful. You’re in a place you shouldn’t be,” he warns in a firm voice. “Get out while you still can.”

That’s all he says before releasing your shoulder and quickly walking back to the street, disappearing into the crowd while you stay still, watching his broad back in the yellow Jedi uniform fade from view.

In that moment, it's as if a veil of uncertainty is lifted, revealing a truth you had suspected before.

You are certain now. That Jedi can see the future—just like you.[1]

Footnotes:

[1] In Star Wars canon, some Jedi can see the future, but only a few—usually masters with strong Force abilities like Yoda (though as he got older, his visions became less reliable). You can see that Jedi powers and the Bene Gesserit abilities are somewhat similar (because Dune inspired Star Wars). However, in this fic, the author wanted to create a special distinction between the Reader (who is a Bene Gesserit) and the Jedi, so regular Jedi can’t have visions like the Reader. Yord’s case is unique and will have significant importance to the plot later on.

[abrushwithdeath]

((So, long awaited life update on why I haven't really been around in the last couple months:

I've been working full time all year when I was only supposed to be doing part time- this is fine, though, because the extra money is good and my sister and I finally booked a trip for next summer that we've been trying to save money for for 8 or 9 years, so that's great! But that does mean that I have a little less time than anticipated, and as a night owl who now has to be used to being up between 5:30 and 6 in the morning to get ready for work, that adjustment hasn't been easy ^^; But it's been made even LESS easy by the fact that about a month ago we took in a tiny kitten who was crying underneath our house. We named him Remy (after the one and only Remy LeBeau <3) and I love him dearly... but kittens are also a lot of work because they get into EVERYTHING. And they're so small that they can fit in small spaces that you didn't expect. On top of that, he's had to be quarantined since we got him because he still hasn't been tested for FIV (he had an appointment for his shots and a check up at the beginning of the month and my sister was supposed to ask them to test for FIV while she was there but she didn't... so now he has to wait until I take him next Tuesday for his second round of shots and see if they can do it while he's there THIS time). Being quarantined has meant we've had to keep him in one room at all times (which is what we would have done, anyway, while he's this little- it also allows for slower meetings of the older cats which will help them possibly get along better when they're finally around one another more). We will also be getting another kitten if he tests negative for FIV because it's not good to have just one kitten under 6 months, even with older cats around (there's something called "Only Kitten Syndrome" and it can lead to a lot of behavioral issues). Anyway- because of watching him, I've been only getting 4 or 5 hours of sleep a night every night for a month and it's running me a bit ragged ^^; Then there's the worse stuff (tw: death, cancer, for those who want to avoid those and stop here): Early last month my grandmother passed away pretty unexpectedly after a week or two in the hospital recovering from a fall. Come to find out she'd had a stroke (and had been having a lot of mini ones that she didn't know were strokes and kept playing off as just "old age") and every time they stabilized her, she got bad again soon after. There was no funeral or anything, which somehow feels worse and has consistently given me this weird feeling of "did this really happen or not?" because I didn't even get a chance to see her in the hospital before she passed. My father also had a bunch of polyps removed from his intestines over the summer and the largest one came back testing positive for cancer. They just this week ran more tests and, thankfully, they cancer hasn't spread to his heart or lungs, but they DO need to do a pretty big surgery to remove a piece of his intestine very near to his colon which is a risky procedure because patients are more likely to bleed out when the surgery is done in that area. After the surgery, he'll be in the hospital for a few days to recover and for them to keep an eye on him, and then he'll have 6 weeks in which he can't really do anything except rest because he'll risk injuring himself and/or internal bleeding. Last week, my aunt's partner (they weren't married, but they had been together for 7 or so years) passed away and, while that didn't have a big impact on me (because I didn't know him well), it was still rough on her and some other family members, so that was also... not great.

But, yeah. It's been a rough couple of months and I'm very, very, tired. I do want to come back because I miss writing Rogue, but it's gonna be a little bit longer, especially with all the things going on with my dad. Thank you all for your patience and understanding in the mean time <3))

[bilightningwhumper]

Forever Prey- Red Riding Hood retelling

TNEI Tumblr Masterlist

Rating:

Explicit (18+ only)

Basic Premise:

F/F romance; female whumpee, male whumper, female caretaker; nonhuman whump, institutional whump, pet whump

Summary:

Sienna lived with her Nanna after she was kicked out for being gay. But, now that her grandmother has passed away, her mother and stepfather have found an... alternative living situation for her: The New Eden Institution. Director Wolf has promised he will take a personal investment in her healing process. Five years later, Sienna isn’t sure if she'll ever be "healed" enough for them. So she escaped, only part of her pack getting out. All she can do now is cling to what's left, but is she even good enough for that?

Still grieving her brother Sam's death and her recent breakup, Rae's just trying to focus on work and school. Huntsman Legal, the company she interns at, has been investigating specialized correctional facilities, namely those like The New Eden Institution. The same facility that caused Sam to take his own life and her to estrange herself from their parents. As long as she can prove she can stay emotionally detached with no personal connections to the case, she can help. Then her remaining triplet, Crystal, calls with discoveries that change everything.

All main characters 18+ unless specified otherwise (ie, certain flashbacks)

Notes:

Whump heavy fic, torture and sexual assault will be mentioned, chances of it becoming descriptive or explicit are high, as my imagination and writing style is heavy on description more than dialogue. Suicide is mentioned, others will be mentioned of later and self-harm as well. I do not condone Rape/Noncon irl. This is purely a way to vent and cope. Take care of yourselves!

Ao3 link

(* for mature/18+ posts)

Tumblr posts:

Prologue [under construction]

Five Years Later (in progress)

Excerpts (chronological order as of now):

Torture Tuesday* (AI-less Whumptober 2024- Day 8 [Rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.”] / Spoilers)- After her punishment for disobedience, Director Wolf comes to free Sienna

I can do whatever I want to you, and no one can stop me.* (Mangst 2024- Day 10 / Spoilers)- Director Wolf isn't happy about when Sienna was in heat

Paw (Flufftober 2024- Day 20.1 / Partial Spoilers)- Sienna meets a fluffy surprise

Kneeling (Whumpers-Monthly Issue 32 / Partial Spoilers)- Sienna trying to prove herself to Rae as a good omega

Favorite Scent (Flufftober 2024- Day 3 / Partial Spoilers)- Sienna falls asleep on Rae during movie night

If you can't trust yourself right now, trust me.* (Mangst 2024- Day 2 / Partial Spoilers)- Sienna's going into heat and Rae's there to help

I never wanted this (Mangst 2024- Day 1 / Spoilers)- Rae wakes up after Sienna has a nightmare

I kept imagining that you'd come back, but you never did. (Mangst 2024- Day 9 / Partial Spoilers)- [Epilogue piece] Sienna's ex-girlfriend from high school finds her unexpectedly at her father's bakery cafe

Old versions:

Prologue V1

[fenmere]

"Excuse me? Excuse me, sir, what do you call this?"

"It's Ma'am. Or m'Drah, if you're savvy," I growl, turning to look. "You should ask before you assume."

There's a short person dressed in a khaki trench coat and driving cap, with a formidable pair of mutton chops, gesturing at what I presume is the curb, and looking bewildered. There's another person wearing what looks like a tea cozy, with curly hair and a scrunched up face, clutching the arm of the first person. If I'm going to assume anything about them, I'd guess they're Monty Python characters, but I'm choosing not to.

Mutton Chops squints at me and then says, "Ma'am." Then they emphasize their gesture at the curb, "What is your word for this fixed object? Please?"

I blink, "I would call that 'a curb'."

"Astounding!" they exclaim, turning to their companion. "They don't call it a footstop!"

The other one looks suitably astounded.

"Some words are the same, but others are not!"

They both nod at each other.

I tilt my head, and say more kindly, "My pronoun is 'she'."

"No, no, Ma'am, I get that," Mutton Chops says. "I mean, 'they' as in your people. So, is this word regional? Would they call it something different somewhere else? How far would I have to go?"

I have to admit, I'm a bit bewildered by this conversation hitting me unexpectedly from a pair of strangers on a Tuesday afternoon in the middle of Hillsboro, but I'm also a little prepared for it. It reminds me of all the bullshit we used to exchange at the B.S. of Comics back in the day. Like, it's hitting my autistic buttons.

"I think I can answer that," I say. "But first, my name is Fenmere. I used to be a cartoonist, but now I just write baloney on Tumblr. I'll tell you about that if you don't know what it is. It's a pleasure to meet you."

They both look taken aback, then ashamed of themselves, and Tea Cozy steps forward with hand extended and says, "Turnbuckle. My name is Turnbuckle, and my pronouns are she/her. And I'm from Earth."

As I'm taking her hand, Mutton Chops says, "Eavesdrop. Er, uh. He/him. That's one word that's the same. Both our planets. Called Earth!"

"Planets?" I ask.

"Why, yes! Yes! We come from a planet called Earth," Eavesdrop says. "But a different one."

OK, I've definitely had conversations like this on the streets of Bellingham, before I had to move for financial reasons. I'm taking this one about as seriously, too, at this point. It's fun to play along.

"How did you get here?" I ask.

"We drove?" Eavesdrop replies, questioningly. Like he's not sure I'll understand him.

"Neat," I say. "Our cars can't make that distance. How far away was it again? I mean, it's another planet, so..."

"You call them 'cars'?"

I hold up a finger, "It depends on what we're talking about. Um. The curb. I want to answer that question. In other languages, it's called other things, but it's generally called a curb in most English speaking places, as far as I know. But they spell it differently in Australia. So, like, also, a car is that thing," I point at a passing car. I make sure to point at a passing one because I don't want to accidentally point at their vehicle, which might be the equivalent of a spaceship to them.

"Ah, yes! A rollymobile! Yes, we have those," Turnbuckle chimes in. Then she shakes her head, "We drove here in our warpwagon. You do have those, yes?"

"I don't think so," I say.

"It's astounding," Eavedrop says. "Everything else looks the same. Your technology, everything. But some of the words are different. Are you sure you don't have warpwagons?"

"I'm presuming you mean a warp capable spacecraft," I say.

Looking slightly confused, he nods and shakes his head at the same time. Then enlightenment hits his face as he presumably parses the etymology of the words and nods, grinning.

"Yeah, OK. First of all, spacecraft, or vehicles that can enter Earth orbit, or go even further, are kind of rare. Only rich people or organizations have them. And warp drive, if we're talking about the same thing, is only theoretical, as far as I know. Or, at least, that's what the news articles say."

They both concentrate very hard as they listen, their heads bobbing with each word.

Then Eavesdrop lifts a finger and says, "Well, yes, OK. We are quite wealthy."

"I imagine your money isn't very good here, though, is it?"

They both shake their heads.

That explains a lot. It's always the wealthy that don't consider the ramifications of their actions.

I'm starting to feel suspicious about this whole thing. Usually, it's only one person who thinks and talks this way with me. With two people apparently living in the same headspace, it feels very different. I'm starting to really wonder what's going on. I look for hidden cameras, or people with cellphones out. But the street is relatively empty. Hillsboro is kind of a suburban hell, after all.

The fact that this conversation isn't happening in downtown Portland or Bellingham is also concerning.

Whatever. Whether it's a reality that's in their own heads, or actually something physically amazing to the Outworld, I can totally respect it either way. I am a dragon, after all.

"Did you..." I start to ask, then reconsider. Then reconsider again, "Did you bring enough fuel to go back?"

They both purse their lips and grimace.

"That's going to be a problem, isn't it," I point out.

"Probably," Eavesdrop agrees.

It turns out all alien life has evolved the same way, they’ve developed the same languages as us, the same advancements as us, and they look exactly like humans, and because of this, the first aliens to visit earth are extremely confused.

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

30th January >> Mass Readings (USA)

Tuesday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time 

(Liturgical Colour: Green: B (2))

First Reading 2 Samuel 18:9-10, 14b, 24-25a, 30–19:3 My son Absalom, if only I had died instead of you.

Absalom unexpectedly came up against David’s servants. He was mounted on a mule, and, as the mule passed under the branches of a large terebinth, his hair caught fast in the tree. He hung between heaven and earth while the mule he had been riding ran off. Someone saw this and reported to Joab that he had seen Absalom hanging from a terebinth. And taking three pikes in hand, he thrust for the heart of Absalom, still hanging from the tree alive.

Now David was sitting between the two gates, and a lookout went up to the roof of the gate above the city wall, where he looked about and saw a man running all alone. The lookout shouted to inform the king, who said, “If he is alone, he has good news to report.” The king said, “Step aside and remain in attendance here.” So he stepped aside and remained there. When the Cushite messenger came in, he said, “Let my lord the king receive the good news that this day the LORD has taken your part, freeing you from the grasp of all who rebelled against you.” But the king asked the Cushite, “Is young Absalom safe?” The Cushite replied, “May the enemies of my lord the king and all who rebel against you with evil intent be as that young man!” The king was shaken, and went up to the room over the city gate to weep. He said as he wept, “My son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you, Absalom, my son, my son!”

Joab was told that the king was weeping and mourning for Absalom; and that day’s victory was turned into mourning for the whole army when they heard that the king was grieving for his son.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 86:1-2, 3-4, 5-6

R/ Listen, Lord, and answer me.

Incline your ear, O LORD; answer me, for I am afflicted and poor. Keep my life, for I am devoted to you; save your servant who trusts in you. You are my God.

R/ Listen, Lord, and answer me.

Have mercy on me, O Lord, for to you I call all the day. Gladden the soul of your servant, for to you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.

R/ Listen, Lord, and answer me.

For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving, abounding in kindness to all who call upon you. Hearken, O LORD, to my prayer and attend to the sound of my pleading.

R/ Listen, Lord, and answer me.

Gospel Acclamation Matthew 8:17

Alleluia, alleluia. Christ took away our infirmities and bore our diseases. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel Mark 5:21-43 Little girl, I say to you, arise!

When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a large crowd gathered around him, and he stayed close to the sea. One of the synagogue officials, named Jairus, came forward. Seeing him he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, saying, “My daughter is at the point of death. Please, come lay your hands on her that she may get well and live.” He went off with him and a large crowd followed him.

There was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages for twelve years. She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors and had spent all that she had. Yet she was not helped but only grew worse. She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak. She said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.” Immediately her flow of blood dried up. She felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction. Jesus, aware at once that power had gone out from him, turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who has touched my clothes?” But his disciples said to him, “You see how the crowd is pressing upon you, and yet you ask, Who touched me?” And he looked around to see who had done it. The woman, realizing what had happened to her, approached in fear and trembling. She fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.”

While he was still speaking, people from the synagogue official’s house arrived and said, “Your daughter has died; why trouble the teacher any longer?” Disregarding the message that was reported, Jesus said to the synagogue official, “Do not be afraid; just have faith.” He did not allow anyone to accompany him inside except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. When they arrived at the house of the synagogue official, he caught sight of a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. So he went in and said to them, “Why this commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but asleep.” And they ridiculed him. Then he put them all out. He took along the child’s father and mother and those who were with him and entered the room where the child was. He took the child by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!” The girl, a child of twelve, arose immediately and walked around. At that they were utterly astounded. He gave strict orders that no one should know this and said that she should be given something to eat.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[mydeaddadsvinyl]

My dad passed away back in 2018 and after his widow died in 2021 I inherited his vinyl collection. My dad was a complicated man who rarely told me about his past. I'm not sure if it's because I'm the youngest of a bunch of kids so he felt he'd told the stories before or if he just didn't think it was important. He wasn't terribly sentimental, in visible ways at any rate, but more on that another day. There had been some bad years and after being very close through my childhood any real conversation was hard for over a decade. But we'd gotten back to a good place. I'd imagined we'd have his senior years to get to know each other better as people but then he went ahead and unexpectedly died. He was hospitalized on a Friday and died on Monday. I went back to work on Tuesday. It took me years to even know how to grieve his loss. I miss him and wish I knew him better. Music has always been at the core of us both. So to discover a bit of who my dad was, the man I wished I'd gotten more time with, the man I wish I learned more from, and knew better, I'm going to listen to his records. There are probably a literal thousand of them, ranging from rare classical to Bruce Springsteen and the Irish Rovers. Grief is weird. https://www.instagram.com/p/CpIu7aWupEW/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mldrgrl]

Rendezvous

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 Pairing: Hank/Stella Summary: When Hank has a bad day, he needs something familiar to pull him out of his funk

They discovered the cafe by accident.  The liquor store that Hank frequented by their loft had closed down unexpectedly, as so many shops in NYC tend to do, and he’d stood in front of the gated windows, aggressively and disgruntledly typing ‘alcohol’ into Google Maps on his phone.  He turned in the direction of the closest red pin and followed the little blue tracks towards his goal.

He had not found a liquor store at the end of the rainbow, he’d found Rendezvous, a tiny and unassuming hole-in-the-wall cafe that lured him in like a siren’s song with its dark wood paneling and leather chairs and walls and walls and walls of liquor.  The only thought he’d had while a plump, older woman with a thick black braid coiled over her shoulder nodded at him to sit where he pleased, was how had this place escaped his notice.  It could be the result of superior design, but the place seemed as though it had been there for 100 years, at least.

He’d sat down in an unoccupied leather chair and texted Stella to come down and meet him.  While he’d waited, he’d scrutinized the place from top to bottom, taking in as much as he could.  While the floors and walls and furnishings were dark and a bit rustic, the countertops and tables were of a white marble.  A lunch counter barely long enough to accommodate four swivel seats ran the length of the back wall.  The server behind the counter had just enough room to pass from one side to the other, but he envisioned a lot of bruised hips from the tight squeeze.

Aside from himself, and ten minutes later, Stella, there was an elderly man with a cane hooked over his forearm seated at the lunch counter, and a college aged woman with her back to the front window who cradled a coffee mug at her mouth, but only took occasional sips in between staring off into space.

As he suspected she might, Stella had taken to the place as quickly as he had.  He’d taken the liberty of ordering a Kir for her and an Old Fashioned for himself since he’d been feeling a little like an F. Scott Fitzgerald contemporary since he’d walked in.

Rendezvous wasn’t all about the cocktails and ambiance though.  They had a full four-page menu of appetizers and entrees covering breakfast, brunch, and dinner.  Over the next few months, as they’d made it a regular spot for them, he’d made the crepes Suzette a particular favorite and he knew Stella was feeling frisky if she requested the oysters Rockefeller without a single glance at the menu.  The quality of everything was so good, so deliciously perfect, and yet it was never busy, never crowded with NYU students or tourists or Madison Avenue suits.  Not that Hank would want it any other way.  It felt like a secret for him and Stella only.  He didn’t even tell Becca about it.  Never once suggested Karen and Fish meet them there for a drink or a dinner when they were in town.

Within just a few weeks time of discovering their little gem, they were there at least twice a week.  Friday evenings, mostly, and Tuesday mornings when Stella had later, afternoon classes.  The name of the place was a code unto itself needing no further explanation.  Let’s Rendezvous at 7.  How about we Rendezvous on Sunday?

They became friendly with the owner, Carmen, the braided woman that had nodded at Hank the first time he walked in.  She always seemed to be in a hurry to wipe a counter or stack plates or light tealight candles on the tables, but she would stop to chat for a few moments.  She was neither warm nor cold, overly-friendly or disinterested, she just ran a tight ship and had other places to be.  They knew that her husband did most of the cooking and her teenaged son occasionally bussed tables and she knew them by name and could almost always sense what they were going to order before they sat down.

In some respects, Rendezvous became almost like a home away from home.  And on one particular Wednesday night, when Hank was feeling particularly Moody, he’d given his taxi driver the address for the cafe without even realizing he hadn’t directed the man to take him home.  When it dawned on him only a few moments later, he’d simply pulled out his phone and texted Stella.  Rendezvous.

She was there before he was and to his surprise, dressed casually in black jeans and a white Oxford, reading a book at the lunch counter.  She took a glance at him as he straddled the seat beside her and then did a double-take, looking him up and down with one brow raised at her head cocked to one side.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “this seat is reserved.”

He grunted at her and unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt to roll his sleeves up.  He’d had a meeting with new publishers earlier and he was trying a different tactic, trying to project less of a fuck-if-I-care attitude and more of a Serious Author type by dressing the part.  Of course, he couldn’t be bothered to put in more effort than a button down shirt and tie instead of his usual black tee.

“It’s been a bitch of a day, Sherlock.”

She shut her book and pushed it to the side.  “Want to tell me about it?”

“I want a drink first.”

Stella raised a finger at the woman they’d come to know as Marie, part-bartender, part-barista, always behind the counter and quiet as a mouse.  She had their respective drinks to them before Hank finished rolling up his sleeves and he downed his whiskey like a shot and then asked for another.

“So, what happened?” Stella asked, once his second drink was in his hand and he cleared his throat of the burn from the first.

“My reputation precedes me, it seems.”

“They didn’t like the book?”

“I don’t even think they read it.  Don’t even know why they took the meeting if I’m not, quote Beesley House material, unquote.”

“What was your response to that?”

“Told them they can get fucked.  Maybe they’re not Hank Moody material.”  He looked down into his whiskey glass and Stella reached over to put a hand over his wrist.  “I didn’t say that.  Ten, fifteen, twenty years ago I would have said that, maybe dropped trow and took a shit on the table to emphasize the point, but the new, sophisticated and evolved me just bent over and took it up the ass like a true gentleman.”

“It’s their loss.”

The short chuckle Hank gave echoed inside of his glass as he took a drink.  “I’ll just go back to Riot Pub and let Charlie negotiate the deal when they inevitably want to sell it off to the highest paying studio that’ll just bastardize the content for a TV movie that no one will even see, if I’m lucky.”

“You could do that.”

“Well, it’s gotten me this far, right?”

Stella took a hold of the underside of Hank’s chair and pulled her chair closer to his so that their seats bumped.  She slid as far towards him as she could and put a hand on his thigh as she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.  He pulled back a little and looked at her with his head tipped back.

“What was that for?” he asked.

She gave a one-shouldered shrug and shook her head slightly while giving his knee a squeeze.  He put his arm around her to pull her close and she kissed his cheek again while he took a sip of his whiskey.  The snub started to sting a little less and he knew it wasn’t the alcohol that was taking the edge off.  Quite suddenly, he couldn’t care less if he wasn’t Beesley House material.  He was Stella Gibson material, which was a million times better anyway.

The End

^^^I saw the above photo today on tumblr and fortunately, I saved the photo.  Unfortunately, I did not save the post and can no longer find it.  There were no details on the photo so I do not know who it belongs to.  If anyone knows, please let me know!  It’s gorgeous.

[im-a-wonderling]

Emergency Room, Part 2 ~ Bucky Barnes

Dedicated to all hospital personnel. You are the real heroes. Thank you for all that you do, seen and unseen. This part was made possible by root beer, Love Actually, and @writing-on-the-wahl​ 

Summary: Y/N is an ER nurse with Tony as her emergency contact, only when called about an emergency, Tony sends Bucky instead.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: vomiting 

Emergency Room Masterlist

I woke up by degrees. 

The first thing I became aware of was the sunlight on my face. Every night-shift worker knew the value of blackout curtains. Had I somehow forgotten to close mine after coming home?

The second thing was the fact that I was sprawled out on a mattress in a position that my twin sized bed couldn’t handle. That was strange. I was a professional in the medical field, so I knew spontaneous shrinking wasn’t a thing. 

Then I noticed the strangely masculine smell on my pillowcase. My detergent didn’t smell anything like that.  

Cracking one bleary eye open, I glanced over at my clock.

Only my clock wasn’t on the wall, and the wall was grey instead of the boring beige of my apartment. I glanced around me, puzzled at my foreign surroundings, until the final part of my consciousness clicked into place and the memory of the ER crashed over me, a wave of embarrassment quickly following. 

I’d passed out in my place of work, and they’d run tests on me, like I was some stranger with chest pains and not an employee obtuse enough to work a double shift on a sparse amount of sleep.

Deep down, I knew it wasn’t that bad in the grand scheme of things, but I couldn’t help feeling embarrassed.

And Bucky had witnessed it all.

I mashed my face into the pillow, which only filled my nose with the masculine smell again.

Bucky’s smell. 

Before yesterday, I wouldn’t even have called Bucky for a ride to the airport, let alone for a hand to hold in the emergency room. And now he’d sat at my bedside, berating me for not taking better care of myself, and carried me to the car and up to this bedroom. 

His bedroom. 

I sat bolt upright, looking around for any sign of Bucky, but there was nothing, not even so much as a sleeping bag or pillow on the floor to suggest he’d followed through on his promise to sleep on it. Where was he? 

If the time on the clock resting on the bedside table was accurate (and Jarvis would never allow an inaccurate clock in the compound), I’d slept for 17 hours straight. 

The last time I’d slept this heavily was probably after I’d unexpectedly filled in for the house supervisor on the night the hospital nearly got to capacity.

And if today was really Tuesday, I had another shift tonight. 

That realization chased me out of Bucky’s bed and down the hallway to the communal kitchen. 

I was in the middle of wondering if each floor had it’s own kitchen, when I walked into the kitchen and stopped short. 

On the counter rested a plate (that was more platter than plate) piled with eggs, bacon, and pancakes. When I got closer, I noticed note scribbled on the napkin.

We got called away on a mission. Take care of yourself. - Bucky

I stared at the plate of cold food before groaning. Resting my head on the counter, I tried to breathe through the mortification. Normally, someone taking care of me like this would warrant butterflies, especially someone as attractive and mysterious as Bucky, but all I wanted to do was leave this incident behind. 

At least my coworkers worked in the hospital every day. Not only did they see fainting almost every day, they also often faced acute fatigue in their own lives. 

But poor Bucky had been dragged against his will all the way to the hospital only to sit beside me and wait for Dr. Cook to tell me I was just tired. 

The embarrassment chased me back to Bucky’s room, where I gathered my stuff and headed for the elevator. I needed to stop by my apartment for a shower. 

Then, I realized my car was still parked in the hospital parking lot. 

“Jarvis?” I asked timidly. 

The response was immediate. “Good morning, Miss Y/N. What can I do for you?” 

“How can I get home from here?” 

“Your car is parked in the underground parking garage.” 

I blinked. 

Who had gone back to the hospital and driven my car here? 

Bucky’s voice chose that moment to float back to me. 

I’ve got you. 

He’d said that over and over. I hadn’t really been in the right frame of mind to think about it, but for someone who hadn’t spoken to me unless necessary...

I shook my head, dismissing the idea before it could fully form. Being helpful didn’t mean anything. For goodness sake, how many times had I helped a patient to the toilet whom I had no personal tie to? Plus, Bucky was a hero, and heroes helped people. 

It didn’t mean anything. 

“Jarvis? How do I get to the garage?”

-

I showed up 20 minutes early for work, as usual. After lingering outside the double doors for a while, I finally mustered my courage and headed inside. 

“Hey Y/N!” Tyler greeted immediately, looking up from the computer. “You’re looking much better.”

I grimaced. “Thanks. Let me get my scrubs on and then I’ll be ready.” 

“Take your time!” He waved me towards the locker room. 

Thank goodness he hadn’t made a too big deal about it. Perhaps I’d make it through all this with my self-esteem only minimally scathed. 

I’d just gotten my scrubs on when Michelle burst into the locker room. “Y/N! How are you doing? Are you feeling better?” 

Heat rushed to my face, and I awkwardly cleared my throat. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m good. Just slept for a really long time.” 

Michelle parked herself on the bench, pulling her bright yellow tote off her shoulder. “Good, because I’ve been dying to ask you about the hottie that came to take you home!”

“He’s just a friend,” I rushed to say, praying she would never again have the opportunity to mingle with Bucky. Who knows what she would do?

“Well, I wish my friends looked at me the way he looked at you.” Michelle’s tone was matter-of-fact, which made my stomach flutter confusingly. 

But I just shook my head at her mischievous grin, pulling my hair up into a ponytail. “Does ‘friend’ not mean anything to you?” 

“Well, I suppose it only really matters what ‘friend’ means to him,” she said slyly, pulling her shirt over her head without a trace of self-consciousness before pulling a scrub top on. 

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you have some urine samples to collect or something?” 

She raised her hands above her head, still grinning cheekily. I huffed, and left the locker room, but I couldn’t help the small smile on my face as I went to go get the report. 

-

It was 0057. There was one patient in the whole Emergency Department, and he wasn’t even assigned to me. 

Michelle and I had been taking turns trying to catch M&M’s in our mouths. Michelle somehow caught every piece of candy flawlessly, but the floor around my chair was littered with them. Unfortunately, the vending machine ran out of M&Ms before my coordination could get any better. 

Michelle got up. “I’m going on a break. Holler if you need anything,” she said over her shoulder. 

Sighing, I sat back in my chair, pulling out my phone from one of the 6 pockets of my scrubs. I seriously had no idea why it wasn’t socially acceptable for everyone to wear scrubs all the time. They were comfortable, they came in different colors, and none of the numerous pockets were fake. I could carry my phone, my wallet, a pen, and my name tag in my pockets while grocery shopping, and still have room leftover. 

Disappointment coursed through me when I saw no new text notifications from the team. 

It wasn’t abnormal at all not to hear anything from them. Sometimes their group missions could take a while, and if no one was injured, I wouldn’t find out anything until I was needed, which could be weeks and several missions later. 

But I felt antsy. Restless. Impatient. 

“Y/N!” I looked up to see Dr. Cook leaning over the counter of the nurse’s station. 

“Doctor, do you need something?” 

“It’s good to see you on your feet again.” 

I winced. “Thanks.” 

He smiled gently. “Hey, there’s no need to be embarrassed. You were working an unscheduled double shift. If anything, it’s admirable.” 

“Thank you,” I said, much more sincere this time. “That’s very kind.”

He patted my arm and left. 

-

Squinting in the bright morning sunlight, I reached my apartment door and let out a happy sigh.

The ER was fully staffed, allowing me to leave with zero guilt. I pictured the look on Bucky’s face if he found out I did another double shift, and the incredulity on his imagined face made me chuckle. 

I inserted my key and twisted it, waiting for the click of the lock unlocking. But the click never came. 

Furrowing my brows, I pushed on the handle, and the door swung open, my keys still in the lock. I must’ve forgotten to lock my door in my rush to get to work last night. 

Shaking my head at my own carelessness, I walked inside my apartment and closed the door. 

Turning the shower on, I started to get undressed when my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID, not intending to answer, but the name made the breath die in my lungs.

Tony Stark.

Images of a bruised and bloody tall man with a metal arm swam in my vision, and I tripped over my bathroom rug in my haste to pick up the phone.

“Mr. Stark? What’s happened? Who’s been injured? I can be on my way in five minutes!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Y/N, slow down. Everyone’s fine, we made it back safely.”

I let out a tense breath. “Then why are you calling? You know I sleep during the day.”

“Ahh, Thor sent word that he’s coming to Earth tonight, and we’re having a dinner party. You should come, he’s the only Avenger you haven’t met yet.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose in between my fingers. “So...you called me...to invite me to a-a party?” 

“Is that so hard to believe?” Tony asked with a chuckle. 

“No, no, not at all.” I mentally kicked myself for my rudeness. “You’re in luck: I don’t work tonight. What time should I be there?” 

“Seven.” 

“Great, I’ll be there.”

Hanging up the phone, I stared at it for a moment. 

Bucky would be back by now, seeing his room empty of me and no note. 

Should I have left him a note? Was I supposed to text him? Thank him for all he did? Apologize for the whole thing? Beg him to never bring it up again? 

I typed out three different messages with varying degrees of levity before deleting them all. 

Y/N: Heard you guys got back safe. Thank you for helping me out the other night. That was really cool of you. 

I stared at the phone, nervously chewing on my bottom lip as I waited for his reply.

But it didn’t come. 

Cursing myself for feeling disappointed, I finally got into the shower. Was the text not sincere enough? Was he expecting more gratitude? What was the quid pro quo for what Bucky did? A homemade meal? A lottery ticket? A kidney? 

As my wet hair air-dried, my fretting led me to the kitchen, to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich instead of prudently taking a nap.

The warm smell of the sandwich filled the kitchen, making my stomach gurgle. I opened the fridge, looking for something to drink when an unfinished carton of cookie dough jumped out at me. 

Chuckling, I took it out and dug a spoon into the dough, bringing it up to my mouth. 

Was there anything more divine than cookie dough? 

I divided part of the dough into a batch of cookies and placed them in the oven while I ate my sandwich. Maybe if they were any good, I could take them with me tonight as a gift for Bucky.

Did Bucky even like chocolate chip cookies? 

Stressed, I chewed on my grilled cheese sandwich. 

What on earth was I to wear tonight? 

Not only did I not know the dress code, but my own closet was limited, considering I wore hospital-provided scrubs to work. Tony Stark’s parties usually involved a white-tie dress, but he’d specified it was a dinner party. 

Then again, it could be a dinner with caviar and edible gold. 

The whole thing made the grilled cheese turn to acid in my stomach. 

It was probably the sleep deprivation making me this worried. The whole issue would be much easier to deal with if I had a couple hours sleep. 

My stomach turned painfully, and I lifted a hand to rub at it. 

That cookie dough was clearly disagreeing with me and everything I’d ever stood for. 

I was a nurse — I knew better than to eat anything raw. With my luck, it was probably expired as well. 

The nausea swelled again, and I whirled around, running for the bathroom as fast as my legs could carry me. I only just managed to lift the toilet cover before my grilled cheese sandwich reappeared. 

Curling up in a fetal position on the floor of the bathroom, I rubbed at my roiling stomach, grimacing at each stab of pain. I pressed my face against the cold tile of the bathroom, closing my eyes. 

I couldn’t remember falling asleep, but I awoke feeling much more peaceful and alert. 

Which lasted 0.2 seconds when I smelled the smoke.

Instantly, I was on my feet, running as fast as I could for the oven, where the desired golden-brown cookies were black. After turning the oven off, I opened the oven door, frantically fanning my hands to disperse the smoke. 

The cookies weren’t salvagable, but at least the nausea was gone. 

Sighing, I opened all the windows to air out my apartment and went to my bedroom to get ready. I stood in the closet, on the verge of giving up and wearing jeans and a t-shirt when my phone buzzed in my pocket. 

Tony: Forgot to mention - sending a car for you 

I groaned. 

Maybe it was smarter to cancel instead of putting myself through all the stress. Especially if I was coming down with something. The last thing the Avengers needed was the stomach flu, and the last thing I needed was an ulcer from the stress.

I was about to text Tony an excuse about being exhausted from my shift when an older text caught my eye. 

Bucky: No problem. Payback for all the times you’ve patched me up. 

I scrubbed at my face, feeling conflicted again. 

Y/N: Are you gonna be there tonight?

Upon re-reading it, the text didn’t sound as indifferent as I intended it to, and my face burned. I seriously considered throwing my phone against the wall and changing my number. 

But before I could do anything drastic, the response came.

Bucky: Can’t very well let Steve try and outdrink the Asgardian all on his own, can I?

Delight poked at me, and I grinned as I tossed my phone onto my bed.

It was time to get ready.

-

Thankfully, my plain, but elegant black dress seemed to fit the dress code perfectly. 

“Y/N!” Tony said triumphantly as I walked in the room. 

“You didn’t have to send a car for me, you know,” I mumbled as he hugged me. “It was a bit over the top.” 

Tony only blew a raspberry before guiding me over to the group. “Come meet Thor!” 

As Tony explained my role in the group to the god of thunder, I glanced about the room. Every other Avenger was here: Natasha, Steve, Bruce, Clint, everyone. I even saw Maria Hill sipping at a glass of wine as Rhodey told her a War Machine story. 

But no Bucky.

After getting my hand eagerly pumped by Thor, I excused myself to the bar to get myself a drink.

The suit of armor acting as the bartender poured me my desired sparkling cider (I knew better than to have alcohol so soon after a nausea spell). My eyes swept the room once more. “Are you looking for someone?” the suit asked in Jarvis’s voice. 

“No, nope. Not at all.” I glanced around making sure no one had heard. “Thanks for the drink.”

“You’re welcome.” 

Funny. 

An A.I. had more manners than half of the patients that rolled through the emergency department. 

With my drink in my hand, I wandered over to the window, taking sips and watching the Avengers all laugh and regale each other with tales of explosions and bad guys. 

I felt out of place. 

Here were all these mighty men and women capable of awesome and terrible things while little old me meekly hid in a corner. 

It was hard not to feel small and insignificant. 

“Why are you standing in a corner all by yourself?” a soft voice rumbled from behind me, and I almost yelped. 

I didn’t need to turn to see who it was. The recognition of the voice sent my heart racing and adrenaline shooting through me. 

“I, uh...” I cleared my throat, trying to get my wits about me. “In my line of work, the number of people that have died at my hands isn’t something to boast about.”

“Fair enough.” 

“I’ve been here for ages already,” I told him, taking a sip of sparkling cider. “Did it really take you so long to get ready?”

Bucky chuckled, the succulent sound making me smile. “Well, it wouldn’t do my self-esteem any good to stand next to you if I wasn’t looking my best.”

My eyebrows raised in surprise. I’d seen the quiet side of Bucky, and then the caring side of Bucky. Apparently, womanizer Bucky was scheduled for tonight. 

“Flirt,” I grumbled, though I felt pleased at the compliment. 

He reached around me, his fingers ghosting around the hand that held my glass, nearly causing me to drop it. “You at least could’ve gotten yourself a real drink while I so rudely kept you waiting.” 

“I’ll stick to my sparkling cider, thank you.” 

Being around him was already far more intoxicating than a glass of wine or a shot of tequila, but I’d never tell him that. 

“That’s probably for the best.” His breath tickled my ear, and I couldn’t stop my soft gasp from tumbling through my lips. “We wouldn’t want you to have to take a trip to the ER again.” He chuckled as I ducked my head. “You know, the nice thing to do after waking up in my bed would have been to wait around a while before leaving.” 

I pursed my lips to keep them from falling open. “I had to leave, I had a shift.”

“Ahh, the ever dutiful nurse.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him raise his glass. “It does me good to see you upright, but it does me even better to see you in that dress.” He took a sip. 

Oh, he was such a tease. 

But I couldn’t let him have all the fun. I racked my brain for something to say, something risqué enough to turn the tables and make him speechless. 

I craned my neck to look at him.

He was standing behind me, like a shadow. He looked handsome, dressed in a button-up with the sleeves rolled up to show his forearms. But what caught my eye was the arrogant smile on his face as he met my eye. 

“Well,” I murmured into his ear as he lifted his own glass to his lips, “as long as you took me home with you again, going back to the ER wouldn’t be so bad.”

He choked, turning to look at me with surprise written all over his face, and I couldn’t help my satisfied smirk.

Y/N, 1. Bucky, 0.

I looked back to the others to see Tony and Steve, who were looking in our direction. Tony looked not-so-secretly pleased to see the two of us together. 

Normally, that fact would’ve made me sheepish enough to join a different conversation, but I wanted to stay with Bucky, and so far, it seemed Bucky wanted to stay with me. 

Thor, it seemed, had different ideas. “Bucky!” he called, beckoning him over. 

Bucky lifted his drink, as if he was toasting Thor. “Be over there in a sec.” Then, he turned his head so his lips were right next to my ear. “If you want me to take you home with me, doll,” he ground out, his voice lower than normal, “all you have to do is ask.” 

With that, he went over to Thor, leaving me gaping like a fish and blushing redder than a tomato. 

Y/N, 1. Bucky, 10.

I returned to the bar. 

“Jarvis, I need a margarita.”

-

A few days later, I woke up to the blaring of my phone. 

Sleep had always been precious, but lately, it was getting harder and harder to drag myself out of bed for work. Evidently, the night shifts were finally catching up with me. 

I wasn’t sure I’d be able to work another double shift if it became necessary. 

Answering the phone without looking, I held it up to my ear. “Whoever this is, it better be real important.”

“Y/N?”

“Tony?” Rubbing at my tired eyes, I huffed. “If you woke me up just to invite me to another party-”

“How quickly can you get to the compound?” 

The alarm in his voice woke me up more than a bucket of ice water, and I sat up, throwing my covers off. “I can be there in fifteen.”

“Hurry,” he urged. 

Almost pulling on my jeans backwards in my hurry, I didn’t even bother to change my pajama shirt. “What’s the situation?”

“It’s Bucky.”

I froze, the hairs on my arms standing up on end. “Bucky?”

“Something’s wrong, Y/N, he’s bleeding too much.” 

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out. 

“I’ll be there in ten.”

-

Part 3

Tag list:

@1becky1 @shawnie--jo @intothesoul @lulurose17 @teenagedreams-bucky​ @the-doctors-fallen-angel​ @hufflepuff5972​ @ohmyendlessdays @moldymercury

[binnotjin]

The Audacity (Diluc x Reader)

Prompt: "I didn't mean to do that." "You didn't mean to kiss me?" "...no."

Genre: Fluff? Mayhaps? Honestly, I'm not too sure.

(A/N) Hi! I used to write a lot for the game Mystic Messenger but wowowow it's been a minute so I've returned with my new obsession, I suppose. I hope you like it and I apologize in advance if this is a bit OOC.

Please, send in requests if you'd like! I'd like to try my hand at writing for the male Marvel characters, the guys from Mr. Love Queen's Choice, Wannabe Challenge, as well as the Genshin Guys! Please, just no NSFW! If I have any other new obsessions, I'll be sure to update that. Anyways! Onto the story~

Apparently, you had learned of Diluc's latest heroics while he was away. Truthfully, at the moment, Diluc didn't think anything of it, himself. It was just another day for him. A "must be Tuesday" type of thing.

His lack of regard for the day's events lasted up until he heard the door of the tavern slam against the wall while his back was turned. Annoyed, he turned to the door, expecting one of the decor pieces to have crashed to the floor as a result.

Expecting to see a man who had one too many entering the once empty space, he was pleasantly surprised to see you there instead. His small grin, however, was replaced by a confused expression to see you positively fuming.

“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” He questioned.

“The audacity you have, Diluc...” You started. “I can’t believe you!” You continued. He had no idea what had gotten you so worked up today. 

“I’m sorry? I don’t quite follow.” 

“I heard about what happened on your latest mission. Care to, uh, elaborate on that?” You prodded. 

Diluc shrugged, wiping dry a freshly washed glass. “Not really anything to note. Just another day."

You couldn't believe your ears. "So you mean to tell me," you began, "that you almost dying is 'nothing to note' and 'just another day'? What about the people here? The people that care about, that love, you?" You ranted.

He scoffed. "What, like Kaeya?"

You could feel yourself tense up and your face grow hot, as you stormed over to the bar. "You just—!" You jabbed your finger into his chest, "You go out there and risk your life! And you pay no mind to the feelings of anyone else, Diluc! You don't even spare a thought to the fact that maybe, just maybe, there were people that wanted you to come home at the end of the day."

You had absolutely no idea where you were going with this. You know you had no authority over him. He was a grown man. Sure, you were close. He was your friend. At least you liked to think so. Even so, you knew that all those late nights helping him close up shop at the end of the day probably didn't mean as much to him as they did to you. All those moments you spent in each other's company taking care of things around the winery or tavern, or even just being there in each other's company as he took care of his paperwork. He probably didn't even give them a second thought. That being said, you couldn't stop yourself from letting him have a piece of your mind regarding his heroics.

He just stared at you. He tried to wrap his mind about why you cared so much but he kept drawing blanks. You knew this was what he did. But only as of recently did you ever seem to express disdain towards his bravery.

You continued, "I just can't fathom why you feel this need to be so selflessly idiotic." You backed him into the bar, both hands on either side of his body. Looking down, you took a deep breath before staring back into his crimson eyes.

You felt so immensely stupid. Who were you to lecture the man standing before you? You knew how strong he was. You knew he could take care of himself.

You studied his face as he looked back at you. His eyes, usually full of seriousness with a hint of wit, were this time filled with utter confusion.

You brought your face closer to his, enunciating your words carefully, "Do you even think for a second about the consequences that come with going out there all the time?" Your eyes flicked down to his lips and, before you could even stop yourself, you brought your mouth to meet his, eyes screwed shut. All the emotions you felt, the anger and hurt at his blatant disregard for his life, just got poured into the kiss.

You felt Diluc tense initially in response, but after what felt like a millisecond passed, he found his composure and relaxed. Bringing his hands up to your fists that had balled up the front of his shirt, he held your hands in place on his chest. When you opened your eyes, lips still on his, you regained your common sense and your eyes went wide as saucers. Not a second later you pulled away.

"I—" You backed away, looking down and fixing a few out of place stands of your hair. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I... I didn't mean to do that." You said in shame.

Diluc bent down to meet your eyes. "You didn't mean to kiss me?" He deadpanned. Could you hear a bit of a smile in his voice?

You couldn't bare to make eye contact with him. "... No." You said in a small voice.

"I see." He responded. He could see the regret on your face, even though you wouldn't meet his eyes. "Hey..." He continued, guiding you to face him, his fingers under your chin. "It's fine. Honestly."

You felt so vulnerable, your face in his hands, and when you finally found it in you to make eye contact, you saw that his eyes were softer than you were used to seeing.

Unexpectedly, he leaned toward you, looking to you for permission to continue his advances. When your eyes fluttered closed, he took that as wordless agreement and softly touched his lips to yours. It was chaste. The touch was almost feather light. As he brushed his thumb over your cheekbones you felt your body unwittingly melt into his touch.

When he pulled away and your eyes opened again, you couldn't help but let a small smile grace your lips. "And I, " Diluc began with a smirk, "didn't mean to do that, either."

[ashesheavenscloud]

Sugar And Cream || Lee Felix

Sugar And Cream || Lee Felix Oneshot

Genre: Fluff, Strangers to Lovers, Coffee Shop AU, college AU

Word Count: 4.7K

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Felix didn't believe in true love; it was something that only happened in fairytales. Surely there was no ‘perfect one’ waiting for him, no soulmate he was destined to find. It was all nonsense, he’d grumbled to fellow recently-dumped freshman Changbin several months prior. Although he was less bitter now than he’d been post-break up, he was still a bit wary. He didn’t seem to have much luck in the romance department, and several more heart breaks only further cemented the idea that soulmates simply didn’t exist in his mind. It was a reality he hated to accept, as undeniable as it seemed-because if Felix was perfectly honest with himself, he’d really been hoping to find them someday.

Someone whom he couldn’t help but smile around. Someone he just clicked with instantaneously and would never feel bored with. Someone he could love forever, no matter what.

Maybe life just didn’t work that way, Changbin had told him sulkily. Felix hadn’t known how to reply.

Because he’d really hoped life did work that way. At least for a gullible, hopeful soul such as his.

It was just as his hope diminished completely that his world was flipped upside down, completely unexpectedly. The Tuesday morning was totally normal and boring; Felix’s cafe job woke him up early enough that that shop wasn’t too busy, and he was fixing a fresh brew of coffee when a light jingling bell alerted him of someone entering.

She wore a white and pink floral sundress, the skirt fluttering just past her knees as she bounced towards the counter. Round glasses sat askew on her nose, her mousy hair was wind swept over her brow. Small hands clutched a thin book: Jane Eyre.

When he saw her approach the counter, adjusting her glasses and offering a bright, shy smile…

His heart dropped like he was on the world’s tallest roller coaster, pounding madly inside his ribcage. She opened her mouth to speak, and Felix found himself breathlessly waiting for what she would say.

“Felix?”

He blinked, surprised by her saying his name while also repeating the way she’d pronounced it over and over in his mind; a light French accent on the ‘e.’ Felix. Felix.

An unintelligent “what?” escaped his startled mouth. He felt his ears redden immediately, but she only giggled.

“Your name!” She gestured to the little tag on his apron, and Felix felt a wave of embarrassment rush through him. She didn’t seem to notice, sparkling eyes meeting his own. “It’s charming.”

“Oh.” Felix laughed softly, relaxing slightly-though nerves danced inside him still. He drummed his fingers over the counter restlessly, bouncing on his toes. “I wondered if we’d met.”

“I don’t think so.” She answered, still giggling. “I would have remembered.”

Felix’s mind seemed to dissolve into mush, and he couldn’t seem to find a reply. She just smiled and said, “Sorry if I startled you.”

“It’s alright.” Felix mentally smacked himself, and collected his jumbled thoughts. “What can I get you?”

“A large coffee, with sugar and cream.” She answered, her smile radiant. His heart was a buzz of motion again.

“Anything else?” Felix asked, making a note of the order.

She pondered for a moment before responding. “I’ll try a blueberry muffin.”

Felix smiled lopsidedly. “Those are my favourite. They’re pretty good here.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She giggled, eyes squeezing shut when she did, like so much joy was stored inside her that she couldn’t help but smile so widely. When they opened again, they met his own with a bright twinkle. It was like she was made of pure happiness. Was that even possible?

She passed him the money, and he’d repeated the order a few times in his head before realizing she was moving away. For some reason, he found himself blurting, “Your name? For your cup.”

She told him, and all he could do was nod, wondering to himself where that had come from. They didn’t take names to write on cups here.

Luckily, he managed to find a pen and make up the order in a flash. His mind buzzed with thoughts that Felix could barely process they were moving so fast. He couldn’t stop picturing her smile in his mind. He glanced over his shoulder briefly as he prepared her coffee, finding her figure standing by the counter, staring out a nearby window at the street with a tiny glint in her eyes.

He wrote her name with care, before bringing the coffee and muffin back to her. She turned as he approached, smiling at him with a small, “thank you.”

“Enjoy.”

With one last smile, she turned and walked away.

He wanted to call after her, ask if she wasn’t busy later and if she, perhaps, wouldn’t mind having a drink together sometime? But he was too stunned by all these odd ideas in his head, that by the time he’d blinked back to the present, she was gone.

He felt like he’d been hit by a train. Or maybe a freaking meteor. What was wrong with him? He’d never felt this way; like he was a bubble in the breeze, a light cloud in the crystal sky.

The remaining day was a blur; he barely registered the ending of his shift, or the bike ride home, or entering his flat to find Changbin sitting on his sofa eating a bag of potato chips.

“Hey,” he greeted Felix, who blinked when he realized he was there.

“Changbin?” He dropped his bag and peeled off his sneakers. “What are you doing here?”

“Hopefully not failing out of college.” Changbin answered with a dramatic air, flipping open his laptop to a document. “Mind reading this over for me?”

“Sure.” Felix flopped beside his friend, pulling the laptop closer. He was used to proofreading Changbin’s essays and papers, although he was surprised he’d come here. Usually he’d just meet Felix at the cafe.

The girl’s smiling face flashed into his mind, startling him once again. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? He remembered the exact shade of pink on her dress; he remembered her pastel nail polish; he remembered everything.

“Felix?”

Felix jolted back to reality, realizing Changbin was still waiting for him to read his paper. “Ah, sorry, I’ll start.”

Changbin was frowning, seemingly puzzled. “Something wrong?”

“No, no.” Felix insisted, trying to mentally smack himself. What was wrong with him? “I’m fine, I swear.”

Changbin didn’t seem convinced, but he just nodded. “Alright, alright.” He sank back into the cushions with a long sigh. “Then please tell me what you think; you just might be saving my ass.”

…

In the coming week Felix grew frustrated and even more confused as he couldn’t seem to forget about the girl. At random times during the day, he would find his thoughts turning back to her; her laugh, the light in her eyes, the way he’d felt around her. It was ridiculous, he told himself, but he still couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Felix downed the last bit of his coffee as he rushed to work the following week, jogging down the sidewalk as he glanced at his watch. After a restless night, he’d managed to sleep through his alarm. He’d patted down his messy hair, hurriedly dressed and rushed out the door with a shoddy travel mug of black coffee. He wrinkled his nose at the bitter last drops, rushing around the corner and finding himself colliding with none other than her.

Was the world supposed to move this slowly as his eyes found hers? He suddenly realized she’d dropped her book-this one titled Little Women-and reached to pick it up. “Sorry.” He murmured, handing the book back. His eyes met hers again, and he felt frozen in place.

She just smiled, taking the book carefully. “Felix! Don’t worry about it. In a hurry?”

She’d remembered his name. “Almost late to work.” He admitted, and she giggled.

“Let’s walk together, then.” She offered, and Felix’s heart fluttered with a solid mix of nervousness and excitement.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I was kind of just wandering anyway.” She looped her arm through Felix’s, pulling him down the sidewalk. “Better hurry though!”

He felt completely dazed again. Was there a word for this feeling, like he was flying and falling at the same time?

He raced along beside her, catching her gaze with a grin. “Race ya!” He blurted all of a sudden, adrenaline pumping through his body. He heard her laugh; he found himself laughing too; and he was off, her feet pounding on the pavement behind him.

Through the crowd, swerving around people he ran. His feet flew over the sidewalk, skidding as he rounded the corner, eyes spotting the cafe. He heard you laughing again; his heart soared.

He stumbled to a clumsy stop in front of the cafe, and she very nearly knocked him over as she skidded to a stop, contagious laughter and heavy breathing mixing with his own. After a second of catching his breath, he realized she was gripping his shoulders, leaning against him as she blew out tired breaths, smiling widely at him.

“Wow, you’re fast.” She giggled. Felix just stared at her. A thought bubbled up to the surface of his mind. She’s so beautiful.

“Hey, you still kept up. I had a bit of a head start anyways.” He replied, eyes darting to her hands on his shoulders. She noticed at last, and jumped away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay.” Felix laughed lightheartedly.

She smiled again, but it was with a tinge of sadness. “I suppose you have to work now?”

“Oh gosh-” He patted his hair, undoubtedly messy from running. “Right.”

She reached out to fix a few strands of his hair, to which Felix was grateful, before chuckling. “You look perfect. Now go!”

He was ten minutes late. It was so worth it.

…

“...with sugar and cream.” She finished, reciting the order Felix pretended not to know by heart. He nodded and smiled, “It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

He’d expected her to find a table to sit at, but instead she just hummed in response and lingered by the counter. Felix’s stomach fluttered with nervous butterflies as he started a new pot of coffee, the girl hovering just before him, watching with curious eyes.

“I’ve never actually made coffee.” She mused. “Only ever bought it.”

Felix chuckled. “It’s not too hard. Well, unless you’re trying to make a Latte Macchiato. That’s difficult.”

She smiled, resting her arms on the counter. She had another book with her today, this once titled A Wrinkle in Time.

He attempted to settle his buzzing nerves for another moment to gather his courage before asking, “What’s the book about?”

Her eyes lit up immediately, like a starry night sky glistening with light and wonder. “Oh! It’s really fascinating so far…”

Felix swore he could have listened to her talk for hours. Something about her excitement had him hanging on every word as she explained the plot line of the story, showing him some of her favourite lines, the unique illustrations on the cover and everything in between. He handed her the coffee at some point, but it went untouched for many more minutes as Felix listened to the sound of her voice, her adorable accent and admired the way she seemed so happy to stand there with him and talk about books. Her eyes were practically sparkling. Again, he couldn’t help but think she looked so beautiful.

He was truly sad when she left, evidently to study for upcoming college exams, yet he couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the shift. Once again he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

How did she manage to do that?

..

His distraction carried into the evening, even when Changbin and his other friend, Chan, joined him at his flat, laying off the homework for a bit of fun.

“Aw, dammit!” Changbin shouted, as Felix and Chan burst into cackling laughter as the other boy’s clumsy fingers knocked over the wobbly Jenga tower with a mighty crash.

“That’s your third time in a row.” Felix managed through hearty giggles.

He could almost see smoke billowing from the older boy’s ears. “It’s hard, okay?” But he smiled goodnaturedly while collecting the blocks to start the tower again.

“If you lose again, you’re ordering pizza, yeah?” Chan teased as the blocks were stacked.

Felix grinned as Changbin threatened to throw a jenga block at the blond, and he played absentmindedly with his jacket sleeve. He still hadn’t taken it off without realizing, and his mind flashed back to earlier that day, watching her eyes light up like fireworks as she chatted with him over untouched coffee. And earlier that week, racing her to the cafe; she’d seemed so light and happy in that moment, a sheen of sweat glistening on her brow, laughter like sweet music in the breeze.

“Felix? Earth to Felix, do you copy?”

Felix blinked, eyes processing the boys in front of him, watching him curiously. “Huh?”

“Something wrong?”

“Ah, no, I’m fine.” Felix said quickly, finger twiddling with his jacket. He forced himself to still and let go of the cuff. “Seriously.”

Changbin cast a disbelieving glance at Chan. “He’s been doing this for the past two weeks.” His eyes returned to Felix, who fought the urge to squirm under his intense gaze. “Come on, spill it!”

Felix felt heat rise to the tips of his ears as he stumbled over his words. “It’s-what do you mean? There’s nothing to spill!”

Chan chuckled. “Then why do you look like you want the floor to swallow you whole?”

Felix opened his mouth to argue, but found no words. His lips clamped shut, and he wondered if perhaps his face was melting from the heat of his blush; he felt so embarrassed.

“Well?” Changbin nudged him, and it seemed obvious neither boy would let him out of this one. Felix sighed, dropping his sleeve and turning his gaze away. That made it only slightly easier to begin.

“I just… there’s this girl-”

Squeals interrupted him as the two older boys beside him erupted into shouts of “Felix, our own Felix!” and “Who is it?” and “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Gee, I wonder why I never told you.” Felix shot back at Changbin, making Chan nearly choke on laughter.

“Okay, fine.” Changbin scooted closer, a wide smile on his face. “I’ll shut up, just tell us everything.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Felix mumbled, shrugging even as your lovely face popped into his mind. “She came for coffee last week, and I’ve bumped into her a few times since then. But it’s like whenever I see her, I just… I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking about her.”

He looked between Chan and Changbin, watching and listening attentively, and suddenly frustration welled up inside of him. “It just doesn’t make sense! I barely know her!” He tossed away a stray Jenga block, glaring at the opposite wall before continuing. “Just a name and her coffee order. But there’s just something about her...”

After a minute of silence, he looked up and noticed the older boys grinning like maniacs. A rush of embarrassment flooded his body. “What? I know it’s ridiculous.” He grumbled.

“It’s not ridiculous.” Chan replied with a huge smile, looking like he was holding back an even wider one.

“Aww, our Felix is in love.” Changbin cooed, reaching out to tug at a strand of his hair.

Felix blinked twice, gaze darting back and forth between the boys. “I… what?”

Changbin couldn’t seem to hold back his laughter. “You’re so oblivious, please.”

“I’m not in love.” Felix grumbled-but at the same time the thought rolled around inside his head. In love?

“Are you sure?” Chan asked, a stupid grin still on his face.

Seriously, did they really think he was in love?

Felix scoffed. “I told you, I barely know her-”

“So?” Changbin prodded him, and the freckle-faced boy suddenly found himself thinking about her face. He remembered the way she said his name, her laughter as they raced each other to the cafe, the book she’d showed him with that beautiful sparkle in her eyes…

“There we go.” Chan murmured, watching Felix as he slowly realized…

Maybe he did like her. A lot.

Love? He wasn’t sure of that one yet.

But he suddenly wondered if he might.

He was silent, and the other boys didn’t say anything as he processed the revelation. His mind was spinning again, all with thoughts of her and every interaction. He found himself analyzing it all, and suddenly wondering if she might find herself feeling the way he did, too.

“Do I?” He whispered, feeling very small all of a sudden, lost in the great sea of his muddled emotions.

“I guess that’s for you to figure out.” Chan patted his hair fondly.

“But if you really think you like her, give it a shot!” Changbin cut in, enthusiastically. “Next time you see her, go up to her and just say it!”

Felix was quiet as the other two watched him. It was a lot for him to take in. The idea of her possibly feeling the same way filled his stomach with butterflies. And the idea of confessing made him feel terribly nauseous. After all, he couldn’t help but worry this might ruin… whatever it was that the two of them shared. This connection was now so important to him; seeing her always made his day a thousand times better. Risking that… could it be worth it? He imagined sharing even more lovely moments with her, but he imagined her closer; a hand in his, pretty lips pecking his cheek. He suddenly realized as he remembered her smile directed towards him, and her laughter that echoed endlessly in his mind even now… it could be.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

…

Easier said than done.

Chan and Changbin offered plenty of encouragement, but the next time he saw her, Felix just couldn’t do it. He thought about it every second he was with her-when she stopped by for coffee again, bringing her latest book to show him-but when he opened his mouth to tell her, his tongue twisted. His throat dried up. His words disappeared back down his throat.

Felix was scared that she might reject him. She knew as little about him as he knew about her. He knew she was a student-and little else about her education-he knew she loved books and flower dresses and her coffee with sugar and cream. He knew she laughed easily, and her eyes sparkled with the brightest kind of happiness. And… that was it. And this was all so new, all so sudden, that Felix was overwhelmed.

Two weeks passed this way. Changbin and Chan grilled him for updates whenever they came over to study, college exams taking up most of their free time. Felix worked less and saw her less, and he found himself missing her smile more than he’d thought he would. But it couldn’t be helped; every spare minute was spent cramming, until at last the tests were over and done with.

“So now that we’re done, you gonna tell her?” Changbin asked, nudging Felix in the cafe’s direction. They were standing outside the little shop, Felix’s first shift in over a week.

“I want to, but…” he scuffed his toe on the sidewalk, wishing he had a better answer.

“I get it, it’s scary. You’ll be putting yourself out there.” Changbin offered a smile. “But you don’t want to lose this chance! I can tell you really care about her. I just want you to be happy, Lix.”

Felix slowly smiled back. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Then go!” Changbin gave him a friendly shove towards the door. “The next time she comes, you’ve got this.”

Felix took a deep breath to steady his tingling nerves before stepping into the cafe.

He was nearly eaten alive by his nervous anticipation while he worked his shift. With every minute that passed without her arrival, worries grew louder in his mind. Should he do this? Wasn't it too sudden? He’d only known her for just over a month, after all. And what if she didn’t feel the same? He didn’t know what he would do with a rejection. Not that he’d never been in that position, but for some reason it seemed much scarier and worrisome because it was her. He really did adore her, didn’t he?

His eyes snapped to the door every time someone came in… but it was never her. And as the sun set outside, and one by one his coworkers left for the night, his hope began to fade.

“Felix?” Felix blinked, turning to one of the older boys, watching him curiously. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” Felix replied, then added quickly, “You head out, I’ll lock up.”

Soon he was alone in the shop. He removed his apron dejectedly and switched off the lights before stepping outside. It was dark, with only a few lit windows and street lamps to help him see, and the air a nice kind of cool. A slight breeze tousled his hair as he stood there, slowly inserting the key into the door. It locked with a click; Felix sighed, knowing he had to go home. She hadn’t come.

He turned and started down the street, just as he heard the pounding of racing footsteps behind him.

“Felix!”

He whirled to find her, running towards him with her backpack and mousy locks bouncing behind her. Relieved, he paused for her to catch up, a small smile on his face. “You’re here.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think I’d catch you.” She panted, clearly breathless from the jog. “I need to tell you something.”

His heart was pounding anxiously again. He nodded to a nearby bench. “Here, sit and catch your breath first.”

She nodded, and the two of them plopped onto the seat, only a few inches of space between each other’s warmth. Felix nervously tapped his finger to his thigh, waiting for her to speak, wondering what was so important.

“Felix…” he listened attentively to her, and she smiled a bit-although in this light, it almost seemed sad. “I’m really glad I met you, you know.”

He could feel the heat of his flaming ears, and struggled to contain a wild grin. “Me too.” Still he wondered: all of a sudden?

Her lips twitched, before falling suddenly. “I’m leaving.”

His heart stuttered. The words echoed inside his head as he struggled to process them: I’m leaving. I’m leaving.

She continued, eyes downcast. “I’m an exchange student. I came here from France last year, and I’m heading back for the summer. I wanted to tell you cause… well, I’m leaving this weekend.”

Felix didn’t know how to respond. The information was overwhelming his brain. That same thought stuck out from the rest: she’s leaving.

“I’m coming back next year… It'll be about three months.” She tilted her head back up, finding his eyes. “Felix?”

He needed to say something. But he had no idea what. His head was spinning. “So you’ll be back, right?” He said at last, voice small even to his own ears.

She nodded, a small smile finding its way to her lips. “Of course. And here-”

She pulled a piece of paper from her backpack, ripping off a small bit to write on. She handed it to him; a phone number. “You can use that to get a hold of me, if you want.” Her smile turned bashful as Felix clutched the paper.

He should be saying something again. But a hollowness had settled in his stomach. Three months without her. No talking about books, sipping coffee together, watching her smile without a care in the world. He’d grown so accustomed to her presence over the last month, and 90 days seemed like an eternity.

She eventually cleared her throat. “I guess I should go. I still have to pack for the trip.” He blinked, coming back to the present at her words. “Really, thank you Felix.”

She stood; Felix acted on instinct. He reached for her wrist, gripping it tightly. “Wait.”

She turned to look at him, eyes wide and curious. He slowly stood, nervous butterflies dancing inside his chest. But he ignored them, because he could not wait any longer. Changbin had been right; he couldn’t let this chance get away from him. He had to tell her now, while she was still here. He couldn’t let her go without telling her exactly how much she meant to him.

“I need to tell you something, too.” He murmured, shifting on his feet with pent up nerves. She was patient, smiling endearingly at him as he gathered his thoughts. Her hand slipped into his, a perfect fit. He found her eyes, shining in the streetlight’s glow, and had the courage to speak.

“Ever since I met you, it’s been a whirlwind. You seriously rocked my world. Honestly,” he shrugged, feeling a light blush on his cheeks. “I adore everything about you. And I’ve wanted to tell you that forever, and I want you to know that before you go. Just,” he lifted his eyes to observe her face, her sparkling eyes and parted lips. “I really, really like you, and you deserve to know that.”

“Felix?” She was smiling now, and somehow that made him blush harder.

“Hmm?”

“I really like you, too.”

His heart leaped inside of his chest as he blinked in surprise. “You… you do?” All he could was stare at her.

Her smile was insanely wide now. “Ever since I met you. I don’t know, I just…” her eyes flickered away, shyly. “I just couldn’t help it.”

His heart was soaring, a kite happily afloat on the breeze. Excitement and relief made him smile, too. “Really?”

The two of them couldn’t seem to help it. They erupted into a fit of giggles.

“I was so scared to tell you.” Felix admitted as the laughter slowed. His eyes drifted to her hand, still grasping his. It felt right; it felt perfect. He suddenly grew sad again, remembering that she was going away. But he would see her again, right?

“Promise me something?” He whispered.

She smiled sweetly, edging slightly closer to him. “Hmm?”

He rested his forehead on hers, one hand tracing the stray strands of hair by her forehead. Unfair, to be so pretty, he thought with an affectionate smile. “Promise you really will be back soon.”

“I promise, Felix.” She stood on tiptoe, and to Felix’s delight she pressed her lips to his, a quick and shy kiss that made them both giggle with ridiculous giddiness once she pulled back again. “I will.”

“Three months.” He groaned, and she chuckled.

“Yes.” Pause. “Will you wait for me?”

Her wide eyes found his own; he had no hesitation.

“Yes. Yes, of course, darling.” She blushed at the name, and she looked so damn cute that Felix couldn’t help but bring his other hand to her cheek, and brush a piece of her hair behind her ear with his thumb. “I will.”

He swore her smile was magic, her pretty lips curved upwards in a perfect display of happiness. He ducked his head down to connect his mouth to hers, and her response was like an explosion. And it was just them, in the faint glow of streetlights, treasuring the beginning of the word us.

…

Felix thought of her every minute she was gone.

Three months was torturous, even if it was summer and a much needed break from college exams and projects. And even though he texted her good morning every day (in the afternoon, because of time differences) and shared stories through messages, she felt impossible far away. He enjoyed the warmth and the sun with Changbin and Chan, worked at the cafe and took a couple road trips with the boys during the summer-but he was more than happy when it ended, and the days until your return diminished to single digits.

Until he was waiting at the airport, nervously tapping his fingers against his thigh as he scanned the bustling crowd, breath held, heart frantic.

Where is she?

Where is she?

She was wearing a floral sundress; black and covered in little roses. Her hair was shorter; her eyes were still full of wonder. Those beautiful eyes found his own. The world froze; she froze.

Then he was running to her, his heart bursting, his arms reaching out to her, her hands stretched out towards him. His joy was a river, and it overflowed.

[cupiiid]

August 22nd, 1969.

They'd done it. They'd finally done it.

Todd was now a published author and poet. Not terribly famous, but with a dedicated fanbase nonetheless. His first book had been published a few years after graduating from Columbia with a bachelor's in English when he was 25. By sheer talent and a stroke of luck, he'd done it. (When he first held his book in his hand like a newborn child, he had cried, unbearably happy he'd made it.)

Neil, was now a recognised actor in the Broadway realm. He studied at NYU for a few years, his major being in theatre studies, snatching quick roles here and there during breaks. After his degree, he had floated around for a while, doing a bunch of off Broadway shows in hope of his big break. It happened eventually when Neil landed the role of Conrad Birdie in Bye Bye Birdie in the summer of 1966. It was everything he ever dreamt of. The night he found out, he laughed until he cried (or maybe the other way around) and called up all his friends for a celebration.

And the best part? They did it together.

Through every step of the way they were forever NeilandTodd. They first shared an apartment the year they started college. Todd has been there for every botched audition, every bad day when Neil couldn't get out of bed, every bitchy professor. And in turn, Neil has been there for every panic attack, every failed test, every night Todd couldn't sleep due to insomnia.

The truth is that when Todd first got his book published, Neil was the first person he told. When he first flipped through the pages, Neil was the second to do so. When Todd had cried tears of joy, Neil was right there crying with him.

When Neil first got the news of his role in Bye Bye Birdie, Todd was the first to know. When Neil crumpled to the floor in a accomplished cries, Todd followed him and wrapped his arms around him tight. When Neil had his first opening night, Todd was the only person in the audience he had eyes for.

It wasn't like it hadn't been difficult. By God it had been. Like when they barely had any money and had to live in a rundown flat in New York with no hot water, no indoor heating and a constant roach infestation. Or when Neil's father had unexpectedly showed up and tried to drag Neil away one last time before cutting him off completely. Or just how hard it was in general as a secret gay couple in the 1960s. But no matter what, even though everything, they always had each other.

One rainy night in August, Neil and Todd lay intertwined in their bed, Todd's head on Neil's chest. It was an average Tuesday night, Neil had come back from his latest show to find Todd clicking away on his typewriter, working on his latest novel. They had eaten a late dinner of leftovers before reading in bed side by side with a cup of tea, making idle conversation about their days.

It was wholly domestic. Something neither of them thought they could ever have. Especially with each other.

"Neil?" Todd asked quietly. They were now 27. God, how much time had passed.

'Yes, my love?" He replied.

"Promise me something." He whispered against Neil's skin.

"Anything." He replied immediately, his hand coming up to gently card through Todd's blonde hair.

"Promise me that once we're both old and lived the best life together... I get to die first." Neil cranes his neck to look down at him.

"What?"

"Promise me, Neil." He said earnestly. Neil hesitantly nodded.

"...Okay. Why are you thinking about our deaths?" Todd sighed.

"I just... I don't know what I'd do without you. I don't care if-if it's codependent or whatever. I just don't want to be in a world without you in it. I had to endure that for the first sixteen years of my life and I'm not doing it again." Neil just held him tighter.

"Don't worry, dear. You don't have to think about that for a long, long time." Todd tilted his head up and met Neil's lips in a kiss. The kiss was soft and slow and a promise.

And the next day, Neil and Todd woke up side by side, just like the next day, and they day after that for many, many more days to come.

[hrtiu]

Writing prompt idea- Bobannec marriage with the mandalorian vows? Maybe it’s a sincere but spur-of-the-moment thing between the two of them. I love your writing for this pairing! :)

Sorry it takes me so long to get to these prompts! I am still working through them, though, I promise! This one is great, thanks so much for the prompt <3

The heat on Tatooine was dry, but every once in a while the temperatures soared so high that the air was still heavy and sultry with it. On just one such day, Boba Fett rested in Fennec’s basement study at the palace, his back slouched in a wicker chair and his feet propped up against the edge of Fennec’s desk. He could be in his own study, of course, but the basement was always coolest on days like this, when even old Jabba’s powerful refrigeration system struggled to cool the ancient palace.

Fennec poured over a stack of flimsi and several datapads, her eyes flitting across each page for only a few seconds before moving on. Boba left most administrative work to Dr. Pershing—his brilliant mind was perfectly suited to paying bills and sorting the junk mail from what deserved Boba’s attention—but Fennec took on some of the more complicated business matters personally. She was a genius with a ledger, bringing Boba’s empire comfortably into the black less than two years after they’d started working together.

“Are you free next Tuesday?” Fennec asked, not bothering to look up from her datapad.

“Yes.”

“Alright. Keep it free. We’re going to Mos Eisley.”

The corner of Boba’s mouth turned down in distaste. “For what?”

“I’m making an appointment at the courthouse to get married. The tax benefits are ludicrous.”

Boba froze, his back arched midway through a stretch. Marriage. To Fennec? Taxes?

“I didn’t think we were the tax-paying type,” he said once he’d recovered enough to find his voice.

Fennec set her datapad down and looked over at Boba, a slight smile playing at her lips. “Only amateurs don’t pay their taxes at all. You have to give them something to throw them off your scent.”

“You want to get married to get a break on our fake taxes? On taxes that only represent a fraction of what we should be paying?”

Fennec narrowed her eyes at him. “And you have a problem with that? How do you think we got such a healthy surplus?”

Boba got to his feet and reached for his helmet. This was not a conversation he wanted his expression visible for. “We can afford it. Just pay the damn taxes.”

He started for the door, but the cold tone of Fennec’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“What is your problem?” she asked. “It’s just a legal status.”

He turned on her. “It’s not just a legal status. Not to me.”

Her eyes flashed. “We’re already practically married. What are you not ok with? Do you want me to move out?”

“No!”

“Do you want to stop sharing finances? Do you want me to sleep with other people? Do you want to sleep with someone else?”

“No!” Boba, more forcefully than he meant to. Then he noticed the flicker of doubt glinting in Fennec’s eyes. Funny, he didn’t think he’d ever seen something like that in her expression before. “No…” he repeated, softer this time. “Of course not.”

“Then… what’s the problem?” Her voice had gone quiet—almost delicate, though Boba would never admit to even thinking of her that way.

“I don’t want to get married in the same place that spice addicts get sentenced, that’s all,” he said. “Even if it’s just for taxes.”

Fennec slumped back in her chair with a sigh, and Boba’s body relaxed. They’d fought enough over the years for him to recognize a ceasefire when he saw one.

“Fine. We don’t have to go to the courthouse,” she said.

“Good.” He stepped out of the office and closed the door softly behind him. As he walked up the stairs out of the basement, he stubbornly ignored the knot forming in his stomach. He’d won the argument, so why did he keep feeling like he’d lost?

---

Boba barely saw Fennec over the course of the next three days. She’d always been somewhat elusive, disappearing for a few days at a time when she needed space, but this was the longest she’d been gone in years. It was the longest she’d been gone since they’d started sharing a bed.

Boba told himself he was fine with it. She was like an itinerant tooka, coming and going as she pleased. He knew he needed to be patient and let her come to him.

On the third day after their argument Boba walked into the master suite and immediately knew she was back. The signs were everywhere, subtle but unmistakable. The pile of shoes Boba had left by the door had been straightened, the lamp in the corner that Fennec liked to read under was lit, the closet doors—which Boba never bothered with—were shut. Afraid to spook her, Boba stepped cautiously further into the suite.

“...Fen?”

“In here,” her voice called from their room.

He followed the sound into their room, where Fennec tossed him his favorite blaster before he had time to register the sight in front of him.

“You have your armor on? Good,” she said.

Boba clutched at the blaster automatically, but his eyes stayed glued on Fennec. She was wearing a jet black gown that swept to the floor in elegant, draping fabric. The top twisted and criss crossed over her collarbone, tying behind her neck and revealing her shoulders. Her toned arms were hard with muscle but somehow her curves still showed through, her hips smooth and inviting and her skin begging to be touched.

“Fen… What’s this?” Boba managed to get out.

She picked up her sniper rifle from the bed and slung it over her shoulder, the thick leather strap at odds with her gazy dress but somehow still at home on her body. “You said you didn’t want to get married in a courthouse. So I did some research.”

“Research?” Boba was struggling to follow her, his mind both pleased and utterly bewildered by this turn of events.

“Yes.” She stepped towards him, sniper rifle still slung over her shoulder, and took one of his hands in hers. “I thought we could get married the Mandalorian way.”

“Oh…” This couldn’t be real, could it? Boba wondered in a daze. Did Fennec really know him so well? Could she see so far into his soul as to understand what he wanted before he even knew it himself?

That shadow of doubt passed across Fennec’s expression once more, and her grip on Boba’s hand tightened just the smallest amount. “Unless that’s not what you want,” she said.

That rare, precious show of vulnerability shook Boba from his daze, and his fingers squeezed Fennec’s back. He locked eyes with her and swallowed thickly, unexpectedly nervous.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde,” he said.

The corner of her mouth turned up and she responded, “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

And just like that, they were husband and wife.

Boba dropped his blaster to the floor and surged forward, pulling Fennec into a fierce kiss. She returned in kind, her lips moving against his in a way that was achingly familiar yet just as thrilling as the day they’d first kissed. He broke away long enough to push her onto their bed, then he was back on her, his tongue dragging a hot line up her neck.

She squirmed under him, then pushed him away so she could remove the sniper rifle from her back. Once her weapon was out of the way she snaked her hands around the back of his neck and drew him back down to her, her eyes dark and shining with an intensity only she held.

“What’s with the blaster and rifle, anyway?” Boba asked between breathless kisses.

She chuckled into his ear, her voice throaty and irresistible. “I don’t know, it just seemed more… Mandalorian.”

He snorted in response, though he couldn’t deny she was right. His wife was always right.

His wife. What a thought. Boba’s hand crept further and further up her thigh—his wife’s thigh—and he felt himself getting lost in her. With a jerk of her hips, Fennec rolled him onto his back and all he could do was stare up in wonder at her beautiful, lethal face. Her cheeks were flushed. Her braid hung over her shoulder, messy and nearly undone. She was the most flawless woman in the whole galaxy, and she was his. She was perfect, and he was hers.

She leaned down to him, and Boba lost his breath. “You know we’re still going to the courthouse next week, right?” she said, her voice husky and commanding.

Boba chuckled and drew her closer to him. “Damn taxes…”