#thank you all for coming on this journey with me while i knit my first sweater

[gardenvarietycrafts]

Day 8 - Finished Sweater

It's finished! While there are definitely some things I would change if I do this again (namely the sleeves) I'm very happy with the results. It's so warm and cozy, and I can't wait to wear it next weekend to an outdoor event we're going to! Hasn't been blocked, and may not be for some time as there's not really space for it to dry in our apartment.

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While

Summary: Terry's back home and trying to make amends with an old friend.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,944

Part: 1 of ??

Warnings and Notes: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Or at least Terry hoped that was the case as his thumb hovered over a familiar name in his contact list. A dingey hole in the wall became a haven on the tail end of his journey back to some sense of normalcy. He was down a bike, a truck, and a piece of his heart but continued to press on until fatigue forced him to stop for rest. The owner, a small woman with a big voice noticed his rough appearance as he passed by on foot and invited him inside to duck an incoming storm. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when he repeated that he had ground to make up before nightfall.

When she asked if he needed help he politely and foolishly declined all but a glass of brown liquor and access to an outlet. That same whiskey and a sprinkle of Motown-era love songs playing on a rickety jukebox had broken a grown man down enough to reach out to the one person who might still be willing to take him in. Even if only for a night.

Searching for extra courage, Terry took another sip of lukewarm Jack Daniels before tapping his phone screen. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a short pause signaled the call had connected. 

The silence on the other him was loud, forcing him to speak up first. 

“Hello?”

Fading voices and shuffling in the background were the only indicators of a presence on the other line, making Terry feel embarrassed for starting a call in the first place. 

He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hey, look… if now’s not a good time I ca -” 

“Terrence? Did you mean to call me?” 

“I, uh…yeah. I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve -” 

“Are you okay? It’s loud wherever you are. You good? You hurt?” 

“I could tell you if you would give me a chance to answer,” he chuckled. His amusement made her kiss her teeth in annoyance. “I’m okay. I’m a little banged up, but I’ve seen worse. I’m somewhere between Charlotte and home. Stopped in this spot for a drink and somewhere to sleep for the night.” 

“And what does that have to do with me?” 

Terry took another swig of whiskey and sighed. “Nothing, really. I was hoping I could see you, though. You know, when I make it back tomorrow.”

“You staying anywhere when you get here?” 

“Not yet, but I’ll find somewhere. I know how to survive.”

“TJ…,” More silence. Thick. Long. Full of tension and years of baggage that they had yet to discuss. The other voice sighed before answering. “Come on by. I’ll have the back room ready for you. You need toiletries?” 

Terry’s face softened into a near smile at the invitation. “Yes ma’am. A meal would be nice, too.” 

“Okay. I’ll have you something if you can get here before dark tomorrow. Please be safe, Terrence. I mean it.” 

Before he could attempt to extend the conversation, the call ended, leaving her contact photo in full view. Terry allowed a slow grin to spread across his face just as a short text with her address came across the screen. 

“Another round, brother?” 

Terry looked up from his phone to find an expectant expression on the bartender’s face. He shook his head and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “Nah, but thanks, man. Think I’m gonna close my tab, actually. I gotta see about a bus ticket before it’s too late.” 

“If you heading to her,” the man started, pointing toward Terry’s phone. “you need a cut, man. A lineup. Something. You look like what you been through. If you got $20, I can get you right.” A slight frown and knitted eyebrows in response made the bartender shoot his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want no problems, big dog. I just know what it’s like to see your lady after a hard time. Let me help you.” 

A quick look into the black mirror of his cell phone screen forced Terry to reckon with his appearance. He couldn’t remember his last haircut and his mustache was starting to dwarf his upper lip. He sighed and reached into his back pocket. 

“Extra $10 and you can get the face too?” 

“Extra $20 and I’ll get you where you going myself.” 

------

City noise had long been replaced by suburban quiet by the time Terry’s destination came into view. His friend back at the bar was true to his word and arranged transport that turned a 6-hour journey into 2 hours of UGK on the speakers, a little privacy, and AC on the hottest summer day so far.  

After exchanging pleasantries and cash, Terry stepped out of the cramped Honda onto the smooth driveway pavement. Every house, street sign, and front yard looked exactly as he remembered them, bringing mixed emotions forward.

The short journey to her front step felt arduous for his tired legs, but he persisted until he was mere inches from the front door. He lifted his arms and prepared to knock but stopped short when it swung open unexpectedly. 

“Knocking when I can hear those heavy feet from a mile away is courteous but unnecessary.” 

He chuckled and rubbed a hand down the back of his head. “Good to see you too, Treece.” 

Patrice greeted him with a half smile as she studied his appearance from toe to head. A few years and a little extra weight had done wonders. She settled on his eyes and softened her gaze. “You look good, TJ. Come in here and cool off.”

Stepping inside her home felt like walking into a time capsule. He’d spent so many after-school days and summer nights here that it felt like his childhood home not too far up the road. Photos from yesteryear lined the walls on the way to the living room where nothing had changed except new furniture and a bigger television on the TV stand. The heat from the oven mixing with a slight chill from the air conditioning unit kept the room comfortable enough to nap if he could settle for more than a few minutes. 

Terry’s eyes drifted from his surroundings to Patrice as she led the way. Long braids covered the back of a high school t-shirt and jean shorts. Her brown skin had become golden under the North Carolina sun, making her glow a little in the morning light. Grown woman weight had settled onto her once thin frame, transforming her into a more of a mini version of her mother than before. All the changes he’d imagined when he had a free second were ions better in person.

Patrice gestured toward the leather recliner in the corner without speaking, inviting him to take a seat and settle in on her way to the stove.

They existed without words for a few minutes while she took fresh biscuits out of the oven and arranged them next to sausage patties and an omelet on one of her good porcelain plates. Terry trained his attention on his shoes, trying and failing to find a way to break the ice. He wanted to apologize. Confess his wrongs and desires in one grand speech designed to erase nearly ten years of absence. But the words wouldn’t form in his throat and the moment came and went. 

Balancing a dinner tray in one hand and orange juice in the other, Patrice carefully made her way to his spot in the living room. Seeing her kind eyes calmed his nerves and set his chest ablaze.

“No more pork for you, right? This is chicken sausage from my Nana and them in the country.” She asked as she sat the tray on his lap. 

He nodded in appreciation. “Yeah. You remembered?” 

“You ain’t been gone that long, TJ. I still know who you are and what you like. That orange juice don’t have pulp in it either.” 

“Thank you,” he said sheepishly before hanging his head to pray. 

“Any time.” 

A re-run of A Different World became the only sound in the room outside of an occasional content sigh from Terry as he tore through his breakfast. Patrice watched in amusement until her broad smile caught his attention. He slowed in embarrassment and returned the stare long enough to induce loud laughter from both of them. 

“I look crazy, huh?” 

“No,” she assured with a sweet smile. “You just look like you're happy to be back home, is all. Fayetteville missed you.” 

“All of Fayetteville or someone specific?” 

“Don’t start, TJ.” 

“I’m only asking a question.” He answered without making eye contact. “You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?” 

“What? TJ? That’s your name.” 

“Yeah, but…you know. It’s not 2010 anymore.” 

Patrice shrugged and settled deeper into the couch. “Considering that’s about the last time I saw you in the flesh, I guess it stuck for me. But, I can call you Terrence if you like.” 

“Nah, TJ’s good. I like it. From you…specifically.” 

The pair exchanged equally bashful looks, both too shy to say anything that would incriminate themselves. Instead, they watched the television in silence and stole looks until a commercial break took away their distraction. 

Without speaking, Terry began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Patrice to rush over before he could move too far. 

“Treece, I can do it.” 

“I know,” she answered in a sing-song voice while sliding the tray from his grasp. “But I haven’t done this for you in a while. Let me love on you a little bit.”

His eyes tracked her every move until she was behind him at the kitchen sink. Boyish nervousness made him twiddle his thumbs until words came rushing out like water from a burst pipe as he sat back down.

“So, how you doing? How you been?” 

“I’ve been okay. Mostly work and no play, you know. Thankful to be out of that classroom for a few weeks and get some peace.” 

“Yeah? Kids driving you crazy?” 

“Baby, the kids, their parents, and my parents are driving me to drink,” she laughed. “I can’t catch a break.” 

“What about your man? He driving you crazy?” 

Patrice scoffed and shook her head. Her mama and his mama talked too much. Terry chewed his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t offend. 

“We…aren’t together anymore. Hard to build a family together when he’s off building one across town.” 

Terry craned his neck around the armchair to make sympathetic eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that part. I wouldn’t have said anything.” 

“It’s alright. I gave it to God a long time ago. Maybe I’m not meant to be anybody’s wife yet.”

“Maybe you weren’t meant to be his wife.” 

“Well, it’s not like any suitors are knocking down my door for my hand in marriage.” 

“Probably because you keep swinging it open before anybody gets a chance.” 

Patrice rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger in Terry’s direction. “Ha-ha. I see you didn’t lose your jokes at Lejeune. Only your ability to keep in touch.” 

Her retort left a shallow cut in Terry’s ego, making him turn his attention back to the television. He knew he’d broken a decades-old promise and that atoning for his sins would take time. But he also knew that, at any moment, Patrice could send him back into the world with nothing more than a full belly and a swift kick in the ass. He had to tread lightly. 

Taking the lull in conversation as his opportunity to lick his wounds in private, Terry stood and gathered his belongings in both hands. Patrice watched him from her spot with an apologetic expression. 

“You don’t have to leave. Got a couple errands to run so it’ll be quiet in here. Take the whole couch if you want.” 

“That’s alright, but thank you. Figure I can make myself useful and cut the yard. Maybe unpack some of this stuff if that’s alright with you. You got a mower?” 

“Yeah, it’s back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the backyard with her head. “Will you be here when I get back?” 

Sensing the hidden motivation behind her question, Terry dropped his bag to the ground and made his way into the kitchen. Cautiously, he leaned down to press a short kiss to Patrice’s forehead before using his index finger to tilt her head upward and meet his eyeline. “Yes. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

Her eyes fluttered closed for a half second while she nodded her understanding. A wave of relief made the hair on her arms stand at attention but she quickly bit back any urge to engage further. 

“You looked tired when you got in,” Patrice started, turning her back to Terry to conceal her flustered face. “I cleared Junior’s old bed back there. It’s a little small but sturdy. The sheets are fresh. Let me know if you need more blankets. I like it cold at night.” 

“I’ll survive, girl. I’ve slept in worse places than a full-sized bed. Thank you.” 

A split second of hesitation kept their eyes glued to one another until Terry ended the stalemate by backing out of the room and disappearing down the hallway. 

Patrice took his absence as an opportunity to compose herself. Busy hands and racing thoughts fueled a cleaning marathon until tasks that had long fallen to the bottom of her to-do list were crossed off. 

For hours they co-existed without many words exchanged. Occasionally, Patrice would steal glances at Terry while he meticulously tended to the lawn and bushes. When he could, Terry made a point to brush up against her when he walked past and agree with each of her many suggestions. Being in her space was enough for him and he dared not upset the natural harmony. 

By the time dinner rolled around, they had found a groove. A quiet dinner led to an even quieter cleanup shift and quick good nights exchanged after watching Jeopardy together. 

Terry left Patrice to her own devices while he fought to acclimate to such cushy surroundings. Try as he might, he couldn’t get used to the soft mattress below him or the near-frigid temperature in the house. Tossing and turning left him unsatisfied. The walls felt like they were converging. Flashbacks were turning into night sweats. He needed to escape.

Slowly, he slid out of bed and into a pair of slippers Patrice had gifted him earlier in the day. Measured steps help him sneak past her bed bedroom, out of the back door, and down into the backyard without causing a disturbance. 

The early June air was balmy, clinging to the skin beneath his t-shirt. In the distance loud bass from someone’s car speaker vibrated until it was out of earshot. Dogs barked and howled to salute the moon worked in tandem with the faint smell of charcoal cooling from a night of backyard barbecues to remind him that he was far from the trouble of Shelby Springs. 

It’d been a while since he could enjoy the night without being on high alert. The last week was a special kind of hell that he feared he could never shake. The urge to flee was beginning to creep in like the tide, threatening to wash away what little progress he’d made.

After a few deep breaths and mumbled prayer, Terry retreated to a porch swing to rest his weary legs. His shoulders relaxed as soon as his backside met the aged oak and, almost instantly, he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One deep breath turned into another until he was drifting into his first peaceful sleep in weeks. 

Minutes passed like seconds. Thoughts slowed to a halt. His heartbeat regulated. Near bliss was upon him.

Inside, a single lamp flipped on to illuminate Patrice’s path as she searched the house for her guest. His room and bathroom had turned up empty results with almost no sign that he’d been there throughout the day. He wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen raiding the fridge like she half expected. Worry had all but made her pass out until she heard the slight creak of her swing on the porch, making his head appear and disappear from the window above the sink.

She couldn’t fully open the door before Terry opened one eye and looked in her direction. She froze and he smiled.

“Feet not as heavy as you thought, huh?” 

“Yeah, yeah. If I’d known you trade in a bed for this old thing I wouldn’t have wasted my time on laundry.” 

“Hey, I built this old thing, remember?”

Patrice chuckled at the memory and pointed at the metal chain keeping the swing in place. “Damn near lost a finger behind it, too.”

“Would’ve been worth it knowing you were happy.” Patrice nervously shifted her weight from left to right under Terry’s intense gaze while he took his turn to look her over. Finally noticing her awkwardly standing between the screendoor, he motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second.”

Patrice visibly wrestled with her decision but ultimately joined him. They maintained a careful distance, being sure to keep their individual limbs from connecting for fear that the mere sensation would set them ablaze. They played a childish game of cat and mouse until Patrice spoke.

“I was rude earlier,” Patrice confessed while fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Terry closed his heavy eyes to cure the burning sensation growing by the minute but acknowledged her statement with a confused grunt. She continued. “I never asked how you were doing. The whole thing about my ex sort of brought up old feelings.” 

He frowned, hurt by her revelation. “You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?” 

“You never are. Same ol’ honorable TJ. Terry, I mean.” 

“TJ for you.” 

Again he popped one eye open and paired it with a grin that disamered Patrice and made her giggle like her high school self. The sound had him resolve that he’d spend his whole life making stupid faces if it meant she’d get some joy from them. 

“You ready to tell me everything I missed or are you content with popping up on my porch? And how long do you plan to be here eating all my food, anyway?” 

“I don’t think you wanna hear that,” he answered in an attempt to dodge the loaded question. Patrice persisted. 

“No, I do. I see the tattoos and the fresh haircut. TJ turned into a man while he was gone. At least let me get to know this new person.” 

“I grew up,” he sighed after some time. “Gained some. Lost a lot. Still trying to pick up the pieces.”

“What’d you lose?” 

“Lately? Money. Family. Shit, my mind.” 

“Why?”

“Mike died.” An abrupt interruption of an already complicated conversation brought forth a long pause. He waited for an interjection but found none, prompting him to offer more details. “He was killed. In jail. I tried to get him out and bring him home but I was too late.” Terry answered without making eye contact. Shame wouldn’t allow him to meet her potential judgment.

Patrice mentally cycled through names and faces until she realized the gravity of Terry’s statement. She reached out to breach their unspoken barrier and grabbed his hand which he accepted with no pushback.

“You wanna talk about it?” 

“Not really,” he answered before squeezing her hand and finally returning her eye contact. “I handled everything. It’s over for now. I’m here with you. We can focus on that.” 

“Even though you keep skipping how long you’ll stay.”

Patrice’s warmth was starting to take a backseat to her cold nature. Old wounds had started to re-open and rebuild a wall they both thought they’d successfully hurdled. Despite her attempt to pull her hand out of his grasp, Terry stayed put. He eyed her for a moment, picking up on a thin veil of tears threatening to form at her water line. 

She watched his normally steely blue-gray eyes soften into something that mirrored the softness he carried when they were kids. She couldn’t find the gumption to look away as he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a set of short kisses before looking back up at her. Pleading. Begging for any indication that she had softened her heart toward him. 

“Treecey, I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. You meant more to me than the way I left and I pray every day for a chance to make it right. We crossed a line that night and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t handle that like a man should have. I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face.” 

Sincerity was thick in his voice despite his low, even tone. 

Patrice listened without a word. A single tear cascaded down her face despite her valiant attempts to keep her emotions at bay. She swore she’d never cry about Terrence Richmond again. But old habits die hard. 

Terry used his free hand to swipe away that tear and the next one sitting at her lower lash line with the pad of his thumb.

“Say something,” he pleaded. “Anything. Tell me you hate me.” 

“You know I don’t hate you,” she whispered, too choked up to continue without a deep breath. “I…I just feel like you took a piece of me with you, you know? And you never wrote back. You never called. You shut me out like we were never friends. We could’ve gone back to how things were.” 

“I fucked that up.” 

“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean that I trust you won’t do it again. No matter how much I don’t hate you, I’m not eighteen anymore. My patience is thin. I can’t allow you to turn my world upside down again.” 

“Hand to God I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Yeah. I hope so.” Though she whispered, Patrice’s words sliced through Terry like a hot knife through butter. 

He hung his head in defeat as she pulled her hand from his grasp and made quick work of standing from the bench. Her footsteps retreated past him and to the back door until she paused. 

He looked over his shoulder to find her eyes closed and chin pointed to the sky in contemplative silence. This was it. The final blow. 

She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “Stay as long as you want. Junior’s living with his girlfriend now, so nobody’s coming to make you leave. Tomorrow, we can go get you some new clothes. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy t-shirts already.” 

Terry took her jab in stride and gave her a half smile as a sign of compliance. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.” 

“Mhm. Lock the door behind you when you come in.” 

“Good night, Treecey.” His farewell came in an annoyingly sweet voice as a last-ditch effort to drag some loving words from her. Patrice stopped and gave him one more once over and a dismissive eye roll.

He waited for the ghost of a smile that disappeared before he could blink. She shook her head and took a step inside the house.

“Shut up, Terry. Go to bed.” 

Terry hid his amusement until she was out of sight, leaving him alone to grin at how even her rebukes felt like love letters. 

“Shut up,” he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes to doze again. “Hm. I’ll take it.” 

TAGS: @planetblaque

Happy to tag whoever is interested.

[meazalykov]

renewal

sydney lohmann x bayern!reader

summary: the latest transfer window was scary for you and your girlfriend

you’re one of the best, if not the best, attacking midfielders for bayern munich. one of the highest valued players in the women's bundesliga, for a player that isn’t german herself. your skills and loyalty for the badge have made you a valuable asset to bayern, but your contract is set to expire in 2024. 

the online rumor, started thanks to soccerdonna, has been buzzing with speculation about your next move—at first some said that you're transferring to lyon in france, while others think you might return to your home in the united states to play for the portland thorns. 

the rumors have caused quite a stir, especially for your girlfriend, sydney, a midfielder who plays for bayern.

after you started at bayern in 2020, sydney and you were friends. not long after, she confessed her feelings for you and you guys have managed to maintain a strong relationship throughout the next three years, making it a point to spend a lot of time together.

 

however, the recent speculation about your future has made sydney anxious. 

little do you know, sydney is going to renew her contract for bayern. you kind of suspected it, sydney is in love with bayern and would never leave anytime soon. 

little did sydney know, bayern is pleased with your performance and eager to extend your contract until 2026, a detail you're not yet allowed to disclose publicly.

during an interview after the game between bayern and freiburg, where you managed to score a goal and two assists, you were asked about your recent rumors. you should’ve known that the elephant in the room needed to be addressed. 

"y/n, there's been a lot of speculation about your future in the last few weeks. can you shed any light on the rumors linking you to lyon or a return to the NWSL with the portland thorns?"

you smile politely, moving your cross your arms as you think about the words you have to say next, 

"well, you know how rumors can be," you begin, trying to keep your tone light. "right now, i’m fully focused on bayern and finishing the season strong with my team. it's been a great journey here, i’m very very happy with this club and i'm committed to giving my best."

the blonde interviewer nods, pressing on gently. "but with your contract expiring in 2024, fans are eager to know if you've made any decisions about your future. can you give us any hints?"

you chuckle softly, as your fingers tangle onto the red zipper on your puffer jacket. the media rooms were a little cold considering you’d played a full 90 minute match. 

"i understand the curiosity, but at this point, there's nothing official to announce. bayern has been a fantastic place for me, and i'm really happy here. when the time comes for an announcement, you'll all be the first to know.”

there were rumors about sydney going to the wsl or the nwsl. you knew you shouldn’t believe them, but transfer windows can shock anyone. sydney was outspoken about “not being afraid to live in new places” too. 

during the days where you guys have the day off to spend with each other— you can feel the tension between you both grow as the rumors persist. 

sitting on the couch in your munich apartment, sydney stared at you intensely as she stood by the couch. she watched your fingers flick on the remote, while your eyes watched the TV flickering in the background with a rerun of your favorite netflix show. you know she's staring at you, but she had a tendency to do that a lot. 

"baby, i need to ask you something," she says, her voice hesitant. you look up at her with worried eyes as she moved to sit beside you on the couch, only giving an inch of space. that was too far for you, though. 

your eyebrows knitted together in curiosity, your look gave her the silent permission to continue with her question. 

"are you really moving back to the states to play with portland?"

you fully turn your body to her, ignoring the tv, and you see the worry in her eyes. before moving to munich in 2020, you played in the nwsl in your home country. starting off with the washington spirit straight out of high school before playing in the 2019 world cup, winning it all at just 17. 

eventually, you moved to orlando pride before wanting to have a full change. you knew that a different league would be the best for your growth.

many european clubs were on your doorstep, wanting to send you offers due to how natural you were with the ball. you chose bayern and have been loyal to the club ever since. 

your heart aches knowing how much the uncertainty has been affecting sydney. one thing you couldn’t stand was seeing your happy and silly girl so upset. 

at this point, you’ve already signed the renewal with bayern, it wouldn’t hurt telling your girlfriend about the news.  

"no, sweet pea," you say gently, taking her hands in yours. "bayern is happy with me and i’m happy with bayern so i'm renewing my contract with bayern until 2026. i’m sorry for not telling you before, i just couldn't say anything until it actually happened."

sydney's eyes widen in surprise before a wave of relief washes over her face. she wraps her strong arms around your shoulders as you, naturally, place your hand on her right knee. 

"you're staying?" she whispers, almost in disbelief. the rumors scared her recently and it was clear. the german girl loves you so much.

you nod, smiling softly. "yes, i'm staying. i love it here in germany, and i love being with you. I can’t leave, this is my home."

tears of happiness well up in sydney's eyes as she pulls you into a tighter embrace, moving your body so you’re sitting on her lap instead. she holds your lower waist as you bury your head into her neck. "you don’t understand how relieved i am," she says, her voice muffled against your shoulder. "i've been so worried."

you hold her tightly, grateful that feeling the tension between you both is gone. "i know, syd. it's been hard not being able to tell you."

syd pulls your body back slightly, looking up into your eyes as her hands move to sit on your thighs. "well, i have something to tell you too," she says, a small smile playing on her lips. 

“what is it?” you say with a surprised look on your face. you hoped it was good news, but due to the look on syd’s face, you can tell it was.

"the rumors about me staying at bayern are true. i wanted to surprise you later but the rumors are starting to get a little crazier."

your heart skips a beat. "you’re staying?" you ask your lover, hardly daring to believe it. especially since you thought sydney wanted a change away from her home. 

she nods, her smile widening. "yes, i wanted to stay close to you and stay in germany. i wouldn't stand the thought of us being apart for so long."

you both laugh, the joy of the moment overwhelming. "this is amazing," you say, kissing her forehead softly.

“i love you.” 

“Ich liebe dich mehr.”

<3

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

ARAMINTA: So here we are!

LILAC: Wait - is that thing getting closer? Will I have to ride it?

ARAMINTA: No, you won’t have to ride her. Duchess is only here because she hasn’t quite maxed out TEMPERAMENT, and Dodo’s getting tense moodlets from his lack of skill building. They’re working together.

LILAC: He’s still a Slob?

ARAMINTA: Anyways. 

LILAC: So he’s still a Slob.

ARAMINTA: Welcome back to the third in our series of gardenside chats, where we will be discussing what’s different about Round One-

LILAC: And whether my sanity will survive the journey.

ARAMINTA: Now this will be the first time when eliminations occur. Once all the households are played, a final points table will be tallied, and we will unfortunately have to bid a sad farewell to three contestants.

LILAC: Oh, I can think of one or two who you wouldn’t be sad about.

ARAMINTA: It’s about who you take to, Lilac, not me. This will also be the first round where a skill building system comes into play. Basically at the end of your household’s rotation, your total sum of skills will be added up, and they will count towards your points along with friendship and romance.

LILAC: And while I obviously can’t be eliminated - although it would make quite a plot twist if I was - my skills have been cheated back down to zero too. Apart from PAINTING and KNITTING since those are tied to already completed aspirations, and WELLNESS since I have a glitch where I won’t run anywhere.

ARAMINTA: Also since this is the first time contestants will be playable for the Watcher, we will learn what they think of you in terms of attraction level.

LILAC: Oh, I have a pretty good indication already. (winks)

ARAMINTA: Attraction level as well as compatibility and sentiments will also remain. As the Watcher is using the time decayed version of First Impressions, those sentiments will eventually fade - with hopefully new ones to replace them.

LILAC: So in sum, a contestant’s score will come from friendship, romance, skill, attraction, compatibility and any positive sentiments?

ARAMINTA: Exactly. Moving on - we have some viewer submitted questions. This one is for Lilac - alright, don’t be concerned with what my feelings may be. 

LILAC: You are a precious blonde pony and we should always be concerned with your feelings.

ARAMINTA: Thank you, but please don’t worry. On Mad About Dodo, did you want me to win?

LILAC: Initially, no. It’s not that I didn’t want you to win, but that I took time to warm to you.

ARAMINTA: (wryly) That I hear a lot.

LILAC: What won me over was the second day, when Dodo made a joke that was uncomfortable for Lyric and you called him out. I thought ‘okay, this girl is genuine. She has principles - she’s not just telling Dodo what he wants to hear. She’s not afraid to risk her place in the competition to do what she thinks is right.’ And maybe he thought as much too.

ARAMINTA: He wouldn’t have meant to make them uncomfortable. But I wanted him to apologise, or at least to not make jokes like that to them ever again.

LILAC: And you weren’t even that close to Lyric, were you?

ARAMINTA: I liked them, and have a lot of admiration and respect for them. However I didn’t bond with them as much as I did some others. Perhaps if we had spent more time together.

LILAC: We’ve seen how saying anything other than someone being your best friend forever can get twisted, but nothing wrong with that. If anything it’s more admirable that you stepped up for someone else when you had a much stronger bond with Dodo at the time.

ARAMINTA: Awww, thank you so much, Lilac! Next question: which contestants are you looking forward to spending more time with the most?

LILAC: Basically anyone who I felt like I still didn’t have a sense of after the introductions, though I get that three hours in front of live cameras isn’t exactly the most natural and authentic setting in the world. Piper - I’ll be looking to see if there’s a spark. We vibed but we had no romance at the end of our time, although it’s very early in the competition still.

ARAMINTA: Exactly. I had no romance with Dodo at the end of his introductory round, as did a lot of other castmates who eventually fared well.

LILAC: Well you had Leo to contend with. If ‘buzzkill’ were a pixel…

ARAMINTA: (laughs) He’s not so bad.

LILAC: Neither is bacteria in small quantities. Another is Sage. I feel like she was a bit… intimidated, maybe? Hopefully she’ll be more at home once we’re together in a household. Okay, question for you now. What advice will you give to the contestants?

ARAMINTA: Make friends. Not out of some kind of strategy - this isn’t Simsvivor - but because this is such an unique experience, and you’ll want to have people through the other side who get it. Also life will just be easier for you and you’ll have less regrets if you do. 

LILAC: Right. Plus I’m only one Sim so you’re gonna need to fill your social meter in other ways. Also being LOYAL traited, I’m looking not just at how someone gets along with me - but how they treat everyone else around them.

ARAMINTA: (silence)

LILAC: I am, Minta - I swear! (laughs) Trust me, I know the difference between what I’m looking for in a partner and someone who may or may not be a good-

ARAMINTA: And sometimes a pixel simply needs a change of scenery to make life changes. One of the most important things I learned from Mad About Dodo is that not everyone comes into their save file with the ideal set of circumstances for them to thrive.

LILAC: Oh, thriving at villainy is still thriving. And another for you: why did you take this gig?

ARAMINTA: While I don’t think it was down to any malice, I felt like the contestants on Mad About Dodo could have - and should have - been better protected.

LILAC: Yeah, you were in the hands of a megalomaniac who viewed you all as dolls from his toy box and had fun with you accordingly.

ARAMINTA: Leo is… impulsive. Not uncaring, but impulsive. And he tends to be more of a ‘big picture’ thinker and not so considerate of the finer details. Anyway, once I learned that a bachelorette would be held in my home world, I wanted to do what I could to ensure that the cast would have a safer experience. With it being in Henford, I felt some kind of… ownership and responsibility, I suppose you could say.

LILAC: Two very foreign concepts to some others.

ARAMINTA: Not being the producer or the director, I won’t have as much pull. As the host, however, I hope that I can be an advocate for the needs of the contestants. Along that note: any concerns so far?

LILAC: The competition has attracted a lot of outdoorsy, country types. Which I get, given- (waves hand at the lot). And they should do well. I’m not concerned about that. But I’m a city girl through and through. There’s something about a place with some… bustle, that makes me come alive in my bones.

ARAMINTA: Normally I’m the anxious one. I think that’s more of a question for the fourth round.

LILAC: I think so too.

ARAMINTA: And if it comes down to that? Well, there’s one residential lot in San Myshuno that isn’t an apartment. Finally: can we deduce anything at all from the introductory round?

LILAC: That you’re a much better host than Leo?

ARAMINTA: (laughs) Oh, too rude!

LILAC: But true! You didn’t completely centre yourself, and you knew when to fade into the background and when to come forward and keep the conversation going. And you didn’t wow-wow with any-

ARAMINTA: And that is all for now! Best of luck to you, Lilac. Just continue to be genuine - and try to have a good time with it. What wasn’t shown so much on screen was that hardships aside, we did also have some fun on the island. This is an adventure and the opportunity of a lifetime, after all.

LILAC: An adventure I can undertake without even leaving my home lot? Perfect for a LAZY sim.

household one: day one should go up at 10 pm* my time

*GMT 10 am |  EST 5 am |  PST 2 am

lyric by @micrathene-w, dodo by @akitasimblr

[randonauticrap]

The First Dark Morning

Pairing ~ Silvio Ricci x Reader

Word Count ~ 586

Author's Note ~ This was both painful and healing to write, and I honestly loved every second of it. Thank you SO so much my darling @jozhenji for this lovely request! This is "The first dark morning, pitch black where there once was sunlight". I hope you enjoy!

Warnings ~ Mentions of depression, negative-self talk

You were no stranger to the darkness. It twined its way around your heart like the creeping vines of ivy and stuffed you full of hemlock to choke on in your solemn silence. Your prince knew this too, staring down at you in rare, observant quiet, as you faked sleep, an internal plea to be left alone. His azure eyes flicked up to the window where the breeze slipped through the silken curtain like a spirit come to collect its acquaintance. It was still dark; the first morning of darkness at the lateness of the hour. “Of all the mornings,” he muttered under his breath, cursing the sun for failing to rise when you needed it the most. 

He knew that leaving you alone on a morning like this would only encourage the thorns further into your retreating heart, so instead he prodded one of the guards at the door to the room you shared and instructed him to wake the chef. He listed off every single food his mind’s eye remembered you enjoying, and he tried his best to bury the desperate urge to buy every jewel in the kingdom to make you happy; he learned long ago that it never helped. But desperation and panic never failed to rise in his heart at the thought that he couldn’t make you happy; that he might not ever make you happy again. The plunge his thoughts took into the dark abyss followed little logic, and ignored his pleas to see reason, going so far as to accuse him of being the source of your despondency. But… what if they were right? Being the lover of royalty was difficult enough, but the lover of a man like Silvio? 

He curled up quietly in a chair on the other side of the room, as if putting distance between you would allow a shred of light to reach you in your eclipse. But swiftly cooling sheets beside you must have taken their toll at last, and you rolled onto your back; slowly, bringing bundles of covers on your journey. You were furled so perfectly into the sheets that Silvio’s lip twitched upwards nearly on command, unable to fall any further into the dark with your precious face keeping him firmly planted in his third story bedroom. Your gentle gaze fell upon his shadow in the corner of the room and your eyebrows knit together in watery displeasure. “Silvio?” you called, your voice weak, barely there. But he heard, and his body moved before his mind, frantic to reach you, to pull you into his arms and keep you there until you smiled again.

By the time his feeble sense of awareness caught up with his surroundings, he was stroking your hair gently while you pressed your face into his chest, burrowing close like an abandoned animal. “Don’t leave me.” you mumbled into his skin, the tickle of your moving lips against his exposed torso sending a shooting pang of warmth to his heart. 

“Never.” Silvio muttered back, tucking his nose into your hair and breathing you in, his grip on your body pulling you tighter; closer; warmer. “I’m never gonna leave ya.”

“You promise?” you whispered, turning your head up to meet his eyes. There were shimmering constellations in your stare, and he smiled sadly down at you, raising his hand to cup your tear-stained cheek and wipe away the stray shooting stars. He nodded, more sure of his next utterance than any word he had ever said before. 

“Promise.”  

🎃

Tags for the Lovelies: @rhodolitesroseforclavis @aquagirl1978 @ikehoe @queengiuliettafirstlady @maries-gallery @veervers @nightghoul381 @itsjudesfault @xbalayage

[zayndrivesmeinvain]

The One That Got Away - Part 1

A.N- This is one of my first series that I wrote after a long hiatus and I am just getting back to it. I hope who ever comes along for this journey, they enjoy it. I would love to hear everyone's thoughts, ideas, opinions. Enjoy!

Summary: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone?

Word Count: 2.9 K

.......................................................................................................................

Alena

Pain. 

Pain is something that is different to everyone but to me, it's caused by the distress and lack of control I feel as though I have in my life. I’m pained that I am not able to give my daughter the best life that she absolutely deserves. It pains me that she doesn’t have a two parent household, because growing up neither did I and I vowed everything inside of me that when the day came I had a child that I would pick the utmost perfect partner that would stick around and be madly love with me in which we would make a life for ourselves and have that happy ever after - but unfortunately those cards were not on the table for me. 

I live a pretty generic life I would say. I work a 9-5 as a social media manager and editor for a top design magazine, I have a tight knit friend group, as well as a dog and a house and a daughter. I’m not the crazy going out type of girl, or the hook-up kind of girl. I keep to myself, take care of my daughter and live life to the best of my ability. 

-

It’s an early Monday morning which means I need to get myself ready for work as well as my daughter ready for school. I am lucky enough to be able to work most of my days from home and the office is used as an as-needed basis especially since I am a single parent. I’ve never been one to take “ the easy way out” but I sure as hell will take advantage of situations that do benefit me. 

My chestnut brown hair falling down my back as soon as I get out of bed, one quick look in the mirror and I can say thank the Lord himself that I work from home today. Over the years my hair has become unruly and quite the challenge to maintain. My skin slightly goose bumped due to the slight breeze in my bedroom, thanks to my ceiling fan. My feet are cold against the hardwood floors in my home, and I almost curse myself for not having enough carpet or rug in my room - when first purchasing my home I swore that carpet would not be part of the home's aesthetic but I would be young and dumb and would refuse to go back. 

“ Good morning Sunshine” is my go-to for waking my daughter up in the morning, unfortunately my daughter is not a morning person - a trait that she picked up from her father. Her emerald green eyes stayed hidden from me as she did her absolute best to try and stay asleep as she knew that it was time to get up and ready for school. 

“ It’s time to get up, Bubs, how are you going to become an Astronaut princess if you don’t go to school?” my arms embrace my daughter as I gently pick her up and walk her into the bathroom. 

“ Mommy, my tummy hurts.” my froggy 5 year old croaked. Now that I think of it… she does feel a bit warm. I was lucky enough that she was typically an energetic child who looked forward to going to school and meeting her friends, another trait she got from her father, however, today seems to be different. I placed her down on the edge of the sink and placed my hand onto her forehead as she seemed to be burning up. I do my best to be a fair and strict parent, so I can instill a routine and boundaries but it wouldn’t be fair to send her to school like this.

“ It’s okay, Bubs. Why don’t you stay home today and rest up. Why don’t we give you a bath and you can lay down next to mommy while she works, yeah?” I make my way over to the tub and start running a bubble bath for her to enjoy. “ Stay still, mommy will text daddy so he knows not to pick you up from school later.” 

Texting my daughter's father isn’t my least favorite thing to do, but I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite by any means either. There is so much built up pain and history even when I see his name pop-up on my phone or even see a picture posted of him. Harry Styles. My childhood best friend, my first crush, my first love and my first heartbreak. How is it possible for one person to be so many of my firsts? Some would say that Harry & I ended on a mutual note but it doesn’t mean that it hurt any less. We did our best to try the long distance thing while we tried finding ourselves in college but one thing led to another and it didn’t last. After agreeing to end things, we met-up one night and one thing led to another and a few weeks later I found out that I’m pregnant. Harry is an amazing father and I couldn’t ask for anyone better for my daughter, but he was not a good partner. He often slept around, could not commit to anyone and played every girl like the fiddle. We tried once more after Aria was born but that is when he was unfaithful and would stay out late and it's almost as if his whole personality changed.I guess people do change while in college and even after. 

“ Hey H, Bub’s isn’t feeling well. I’m going to keep her home with me today so no need to pick her up from school… thanks :)” I place my phone back down onto the counter and get Aria undressed for her bath. While allowing Aria to play around a bit in the bubbles I notice my phone has none stop been going off. 2 missed calls from Harry & 4 text messages. He’s so over dramatic. My phone rings again, before I could even say hello he gets his word in: 

“ What the hell, why haven’t you answered your phone?” I could sense his annoyance over the phone. 

“ Because I am bathing our daughter and I believe her cleanliness is more important than  worrying about my phone” I could see his eyes rolling already. 

“ What’s wrong with her? What happened?” His concern for Aria is something I could admire and could almost push past all the horrible things he has done to me in the past. 

“ Harry, she’s sick. She’s around other sick kids almost everyday… it was practically bound to happen. She’ll be fine in no time… she just needs to rest for the day and drink fluids and cuddle. I promise you I won’t let anything happen to your precious angel.” The last sentiment of my statement to Harry was meant more as sarcasm but in all honesty, she really is an angel and couldn't ask for a more perfect child. 

“ Erm, yeah.. Okay. Can I stop over after work later on? I can pick up some dinner for us three and maybe watch a movie with her…” I can sense the hesitation in his voice. Harry and I had an agreement that we would be civil parents for Aria, but I would prefer to not have “family hangouts” as much as I could avoid it. As much as I wanted a two-parent household for my daughter, I refused to confuse her anymore and give her a false hope that Harry and I would ever get back together. However, there are some exceptions to this rule and tonight is one of them. One thing I hold my ground on is never holding Harry back with Aria or anytime he wants to spend with her. 

“ That would be nice, Har… thank you. Just let me know what time you think you’ll be over later on tonight, and remember.…her bed times  9:00 PM” a gentle smile plastered on my face when I look back over at my daughter while she plays with the bubbles in her bath. 

“ Of course, give her a kiss for me to hold her off until I get there” before I could even say goodbye the line drops. 

-

The day was filled with many email correspondences, phone calls as well as planning for the upcoming next few months. Being the lead editor for one of the top design magazines in the country was no easy job by any means, but my passion and dedication for the job was what makes it all worth it. I’ve been very fortunate as well to have a very understanding team behind me which were my top supporters, and they absolutely adore Aria. 

Besides all of the work I needed to attend to, cuddles and a napping child were on my top priority list as well. I mostly worked from my couch today, which I excuse to my child being needy because she wasn’t feeling well but I would be lying to say that I just didn’t want to leave her side as well. For a while, it was mostly just the two of us together navigating through the world with no idea or plan in mind. 

Before I knew it, it was close to 5:00 PM and Harry said he will be here in less than an hour. While Aria was sleeping and I was on my “lunch” break earlier I was able to sneak in some dishes, laundry and a quick shower. My unruly hair from this morning was washed and maintained and I was able to apply the lightest layer of make-up. My outfit of choice for this gathering we were about to have was a pair of basic black leggings, paired with an oversized sweatshirt. 

“Mommy, do you know when Daddy will be here?'' She adores her father, a total daddy’s girl. I wish it didn’t make me jealous but knowing that he is her favorite person pulls at my heartstrings a bit. 

“ I think he’ll be here shortly, Bubs. Why don’t we get you changed in your comfy pjs so when daddy gets here, you guys can watch a movie?”

I gave Aria a quick bath to help her fever settle down. Her fever has been on and off for most of the day; but it seems as though it was getting back to normal for the last hour. She picked out her favorite waffle knit pajamas to wear with the pink and red hearts. She swore up and down that they were her movie watching pajamas & that they were the most comfy for “lounging around”. By the time Aria and I made it back into the living room, Harry had arrived. 

I walked to the front door with Aria in my arms & by the time I opened the door she couldn’t jump into Harry’s arms quick enough. There he stood with his work attire on: a pair of dress pants and a button down shirt paired with his matching tie. The young frat boy has turned into a businessman, Harry followed in his fathers foot footsteps and is now a partner in his fathers law firm. His hair looks like it’s been freshly cut, but a few curls still peak out on the top. 

“ Hi Bubby, I’m so happy to see you.” A smile is plastered across Harry’s face, he’s always been a proud father. He always says that Aria lights up his world, and that she in fact saved him and has made him a better man. The same smile he gives Aria, is a similar smile that he used to shine at me, those pearly whites were once my weakness. 

-

Harry so kindly brought over Chinese for the 3 of us, the three of us scattered on my dining room table. Harry and Aria spike up most of the conversation, Aria tells Harry all the letters and colors that she’s learned at school so far and what she thinks her classmates worked on today without her. It amazes me watching the two of them interact together, it’s almost as if I’m seeing double: Aria is so much like Harry in so many different ways: between their smiles, the way their nose scrunches up while them are really focused in on what the other is saying, to they way they chew at the the same time or how they both furrow their brows the same exact way. 

-

After dinner, I excused myself to flip some laundry as well as clean the kitchen up from the day's mess. Harry and Aria are now sprawled out in the living room watching Lilo and Stitch, Aria is laid out in between Harry’s legs, with her back to him while his hands are laid in her lap. Every so often I catch Aria holding her fathers hand and even planting kisses on them. Aria’s love and admiration for her father makes Harry a little bit more bearable, he is someone I will always love but I fell out of love many years ago after everything he had put me through: the lies, the cheating, the girl, the uncertainty… It was all just too much. 

-

It’s a little after 8:30 PM now, Aria fell asleep watching the movie with Harry and he insisted he would take her to bed and do her nightly routine with her which consists of cuddles and reading a book, if we ever skip this step she never has a good night's rest. I hear soft snores coming from her bedroom which indicates that Harry can handle her nightly bedtime routine and he will be leaving shortly, which allows me some alone time before the end of the day. 

- 

“ She’s fast asleep now…” a soft smile has taken form on Harry’s tired face. 

“ Looks like she isn’t the only one that needs to be put to bed” I begin walking him to my front door, to kindly let him know that I would like for him to leave, however, he asks if we can have a talk. 

Harry and I walk back over to my living room as I take a seat on my sectional and he sits across from me. The expression on his face indicates that he’s nervous and is testing the waters out before he opens his mouth. 

“ I’ve been seeing someone…” is what he blurts out with. “I’ve been seeing her for a while now and I would like to know if it’s okay if I introduce her to Aria.” His words take me by surprise, one of our initial rules was that we would not introduce Aria to anyone unless we thought it was serious and up until now it had not come up. For whatever reason, his confession stings a little bit. I was under the impression that Harry wasn’t really into keeping anything serious or that’s at least what his mother gossips to me about. Anne and I always had a very close relationship, even after everything that had happened between Harry and I. 

“Uhmmm, yeah…” my heart starts pounding a little quicker than usual and I’m hoping Harry can’t hear it. 

“ Her name is Elizabeth, she works in the same building as I do at the accounting office across the hall from my law firm… she’s the receptionist there. She’s really great, and makes me really happy. I’d like for them to meet this weekend… I’m going to my parents for dinner and they’ll be meeting Elizabeth for the first time too.” 

“ Har, I’m happy to hear you’re happy. If you feel as though this is someone you would like to introduce Aria to, then go ahead… under one condition.” I can see Harry’s once anxious demeanor break and a look of curiosity takes over him. 

“Under no circumstances and I mean none, are you to have any sleep overs with this girl while Aria is there. If I find out from our daughter that you had a woman sleeping over while she is there… I promise you Harry, I will raise hell.” A slight nod is always I get out of him before he speaks again. “ Understood… thank you.” Call me traditional, however, I don’t think it’s appropriate to have girls in and out of the house while our daughter is there.. Even if they are dating but knowing Harry, he can sometimes spin the truth. 

“I’m gonna go… I have a long day tomorrow.” I nod and get up to walk Harry out of my house. As we approach the door, I gently open it for Harry to walk through. 

“ Have a goodnight, Har. Thank you again for dinner.”

As Harry walks out my door and into his car, all I see is the young guy that I grew-up with and wonder how things went so wrong for us. My heart aches for what ifs? What if we did end up being the end game, would Aria be happier? Would I be happier? Would we have regular family dinners and have family vacations and family traditions?

I wiped those ideas out of my heart as quickly as they came, because I did not get to where I am in life harping on the past. I, Alena, do not sit around and feel sorry for myself or what my life currently is versus what I once dreamed of it being.

[pacinosgf]

🎁 and now, some monterey updates...

sarah mccartney was born and raised in monterey, and though she has had her fair share of exploring the world, those days are gone, but not for long! it's only until little baby rose learns to walk, and then sarah will get on the road again, happy to introduce her daughter to the good things in life. take a look at some of her journal entries since her sister's arrival in monterey:

🎀 february 14, 202? .

it happened. i never thought it would actually happen, but it happened. i'm having a baby.

i'm having a baby! a new mccartney child. a child! i said i wasn't going to tell anyone but now i'm writing about it and i just called hannah to tell her the news. she seemed happy. shocked, obviously, but happy! she immediately started talking about vitamins and doctor appointments and that's how i know that she is here with me for this new journey. a baby. i can't believe it. [ . . . ]

🎀 march 03, 202? .

hannah has arrived. she's in the room next door to mine, just like it was through half of our lives until adulthood. hannah is home! i had no idea she was coming, mind you. i would have bought lilies, her favorite flowers, and rearranged the whole house. she hasn't been home in years and when she finally visits us, in true hannah style, she just appears some day and decides to stay here, doesn't even give me a chance to spoil her a bit!

and yes, she is staying. she came with suitcases and bags and said she is only leaving after the baby arrives. isn't it so sad that an arrival is naturally followed by a departure? i wasn't expecting hannah to come, but i can't say that i'm not happy. and also a bit upset. i think she still sees me as a baby and can't fathom me having a baby of my own. she looked at my belly like she was seeing it for the first time. well, she was, but you get what i mean. but if seeing me as a baby who needs help is what made her come back, great! i need her around. i don't want my baby to grow up without an aunt. i'll make sure she will be alright. [ . . . ]

🎀 august 25, 202? .

the belly is heavy and we still have three more months to go, unless the little angel decides they want to see what is going on the outside before that. it's so hot! i'm so glad fall is coming around so i'll have a break from all this heat. the baby will come around on november so we are buying winter clothes, obviously. georgia made the cutest knitted cap for them! i've decided to not find out the gender before birth so i'm getting gifts in all the colors of the rainbow. the new mccartney baby will be the most fashionable kid in monterey! (thank god midge can't read that! also, isn’t that weird that we grew up together and we now have babies of our own? just yesterday we were following posy and hannah around!)

hannah and este are hanging out more and more every day. can't think of two people who could benefit the most from each other's company. hannah is at este's right now. she took her own midnight mayhems records to introduce este to them! imagine not knowing all the drama and the songs…

hannah seems quite happy and content with her life right now, and she is even talking about staying for a year or such after the baby comes, so she can help me out. i'd love the help, but let's be honest, she won't be staying here for me! and that's alright. i hope she keeps going like that... [ . . . ]

🎀 december 5, 202? .

rose mccartney is here! it’s a girl! she’s sleeping right by my side while we wait to go home. since there’s nothing else to do but wait and i told este to take hannah away, i thought it was fair to tell what is happening right now! she is the most beautiful baby i’ve ever seen. i know every mom says that, but i mean it. no one is prettier than rose. she looks just look a flower button and came out all red so, naturally, her name became rose. no middle name! i don’t have one and hannah doesn’t either because momma thought it was tacky, so rose doesn’t have one, but she will have lots of nicknames. right now i’m appreciating calling her button. este's twins are having fun calling her flower, [ . . . ]

🎀 august 3, 2024 .

tonight, barbara ann robinson lulled rosie to sleep by singing cowboy like me. what a sentence to write. [ . . . ]

@gllianowens

[dindjarindiaries]

Security - Chapter 53: The Burden

summary: The venture to Nevarro leaves the Djarin clan with more than they originally bargained for, and a trip to an old ally quickly turns sour.

warnings: canon-typical violence, references to trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

word count: 5.192k

rating: T

previous ⟸ masterlist ⟹ next

chapter 53: the burden

Waking up the next morning is almost cruel for Astra. It’s the first time she’s gotten to peacefully awaken in her husband’s arms for much too long, thanks to the miraculous lengthy slumber of their two children. Din rouses at the same time she does and kisses her enough to make up for whatever time they’ll lose on the journey ahead. They manage to drag themselves out of bed and prepare themselves as well as their children for the day’s adventures.

Greef is already in his office with IG-11’s parts when the Djarin family stops by. Din pushes the hovercart while Grogu sits atop it and lets the empty pram float by his side. Astra and Zora trail behind the magistrate and his old friend, the youngest Djarin babbling as she plays with Astra’s tunic.

“Say ‘Papa,’” Astra encourages her in a soft voice. Zora coos and smiles just at the sound of her father’s title. Astra takes one of her tiny hands and waves it at Din’s back. “‘Hi, Papa!’”

Zora giggles and waves on her own. “Baba!”

Din turns his helmet over his shoulder for a moment to face her. “Hi, Zozo,” he responds with warmth and a smile Astra can hear. He lifts a gloved hand to pat her head before he faces the way ahead again.

“Now, say ‘Mama,’” Astra continues. She points to herself. “‘Hi, Mama!’”

Zora makes a long mmm sound with a focused knit in her brow. Astra laughs and kisses her forehead.

“So close, Zo.” Astra points at Grogu. “Say hi to your brother. ‘Hi, Grogu!’”

Zora exhales a few sharp excited breaths and claps her hands together. “Go!”

Astra grins at her daughter. “That’s it, Zo! ‘Grogu!’”

“Go!” Zora cheers. Din steals another look at them, his helmet tilting in admiration of the adorable sound. “Go!”

Grogu’s ears lift on his head as he lets out a long coo of understanding. Din pats his head while Astra’s smile only grows wider. There’s not a single thing she wouldn’t do for this precious family of hers.

“You’ve got quite the family here, Mando,” Greef says with hardly disguised warmth. “That’s why this is too big a job for you to do by yourself.” He gestures to the parts of IG-11. “Fortunately, Nevarro has attracted the best droidsmiths of the Outer Rim.” Greef stops and nods at the wall to their left. “They’ll have IG back to his old self in no time.”

Din shifts his weight. “Are you sure they’re up for it?” He lifts a hand towards IG’s parts. “I don’t think I can handle him with all his limbs if things go scud.”

Astra smiles; His censorship. It’s something he’s been working on around the kids, one of the smaller yet noticeable things Astra can observe about his sweet parenting. Meanwhile, Greef points at the wall again. “Why don’t you ask ‘em for yourself?”

Din’s visor faces Greef. “Who?”

Greef extends a hand towards the ground. “The Anzellans.”

Din and Astra both look down to see a nine-inch Anzellan waiting outside a small doorway. He looks up at Din and tilts his head. “What do ya’ want?” the Anzellan asks in his high-pitched voice.

Grogu widens his eyes and coos in curiosity with a hand extended. Zora’s still too caught up in Astra’s tunic and her babbling of Baba, Mmm, Go! to properly observe the Anzellan. Din takes a step back and Astra has to hold back a laugh at his utter shock. “I, um… my droid.” Din gestures to IG-11’s parts. “I need help rewiring him.”

The Anzellan glances back and speaks a few words in his own language. He faces Din again and nods. “Can fix.” He points inside the small workspace. “Come. Come.”

Din looks between the Anzellan and Greef a few times before he points to himself. “Me?”

Greef laughs. “Yes! Their work will be quick.”

Din tilts his helmet and glances at the small doorway again. “I can’t fit in there.”

“You can.” Greef turns his head to look at Astra. “But I don’t think your whole family will.”

Din’s visor meets Astra’s gaze and she speaks before he can. “It’s okay,” she assures him. “You and Grogu head inside. Zora and I will explore the bazaar.” Astra gestures with her head to the marketplace that’s further down the street.

Din tenses, though his gloved fingers flutter at his sides. He takes a step closer to her. “Are you sure?” When Astra nods, Din releases a gentle sigh and rests his helmet against her forehead. “I won’t be long.”

“And we won’t be far.” Astra offers him a reassuring smile. “Good luck with IG.”

Din lowers his voice for privacy and gives one of her hands a squeeze. “I love you.”

Astra’s grin widens. “I love you, too.”

Din takes one of Zora’s tiny hands next and gives it a squeeze. “And you too, Zozo.”

Zora smiles and claps her hands together. “Baba!”

Din swings his helmet away from her in pure and utter adoration. He gives her tiny hand one more squeeze before he and Grogu make their way closer to the Anzellans’ workshop. Astra chuckles to herself at the way Din and Grogu have to crawl inside, the former barely fitting given all his layers of armor. It’s only once they’ve disappeared inside that Astra and Zora make their way towards the bazaar.

“All right, angel,” Astra says to her daughter, smiling at the curious coo she earns in response. “Let’s find a gift for Papa and Grogu.”

Zora squeals with delight and claps her hands together once again. Astra smiles and gives her cheek a kiss.

“I’m excited, too!” Astra glances around once they reach the heart of the bazaar. Stalls with all kinds of products line the street, from exotic fruits to handmade jewelry. The way this marketplace flourishes reminds Astra of her home planet long ago, during its own golden age. She holds Zora closer. “Where do you think we should start, Zo?”

Zora furrows her brow, her brown eyes observing their surroundings just as her father’s would. Astra’s patient as she waits for the telltale point of her daughter’s small finger towards one of the booths. Astra turns and sees that she’s chosen one of the exotic fruit stands, which comes as no surprise given her son’s love for food.

“Good choice.” Astra approaches the booth and greets the Rodian merchant. “We’d like to try one of your fruits, please.”

The Rodian spreads his hands. “Of course! I’ve got quite a few here.”

Astra and Zora share a look. “What do you recommend?”

“Well,” the Rodian begins, reaching somewhere inside his stand, “this dessert made from the jogan fruit always comes highly praised.” He reveals a dessert that’s encased in a cold container. The Rodian opens it and shows off the delicate dollop of purple creamy fruit. Zora releases a loud coo of delight.

“Can we try it?” Astra reaches for the credits tucked in a pouch on her belt.

The Rodian pushes the dessert and a utensil forward. “Be my guest!”

Astra sets her necessary pile of credits down and picks up the utensil. She offers a small scoop to Zora, who samples the dessert with a gleeful coo of approval. Astra tries some for herself and shares her daughter’s enthusiastic reaction. The taste is sweet yet tangy, offering a perfect punch of what anyone could want from a fruit-flavored treat. “I see why it’s so highly praised,” Astra tells the Rodian. She lets Zora finish the dessert. “Can we take two to go?”

The Rodian agrees and begins packing their order. Astra turns to Zora and laughs as she wipes some of the purple-colored fruit remnants away from around her mouth.

“What do you think, Zo? Will Papa and Grogu approve?”

Zora taps the corners of Astra’s mouth as they remain curled up in a smile. “Baba!”

“Yeah,” Astra agrees as she sets down more credits, “I think it’ll make him smile, too.”

The two Djarins finish with their order and move on, the small pouch now hanging from Astra’s belt. They explore more of the bazaar despite their small mission already being complete. Astra even manages to find some fish cracker snacks for Zora and Grogu, building up the future supply that she’ll no doubt need for their hungry children. The last thing Astra grabs are some medical supplies she can fit in the extra spaces on her belt, an emergency kit she’s been meaning to create as they begin their journey.

Astra and Zora return to the Anzellan workshop and find just what Astra should’ve expected: chaos. Greef’s kneeling down on the ground and speaking through the tiny Anzellan door and she can already hear the familiar tone of Din’s voice as he responds to him. The closer they get, the more Astra can hear them.

“. . . You should get a new one,” Greef’s in the middle of saying.

Astra lifts her brow as she and Zora approach. “What’s going on?”

Greef looks up at her and stands to his feet with a huff of effort. “The Anzellans are saying IG’s not fixable,” he explains.

Astra twists her lips. She looks at the Anzellans’ door. “He must not be happy about that.”

Greef shrugs. “It seems like he’s working it out with them right now.” He lifts a finger at Astra. “If you’ll give me a moment.” Astra nods and watches as he kneels down again. Greef listens for a moment before he speaks to Din again. “If you can get a new part, he says he can fix it.”

Astra waits for Din’s response, but all she hears is the sound of an Anzellan screeching. “No, Grogu,” comes Din’s scolding voice. Astra and Zora share a look before she kneels down at Greef’s side. Inside the workshop, Din looks like a giant reaching towards their son, who grips onto an Anzellan for dear life. “He’s not a pet.”

“No squeezie!” the Anzellan protests. “No squeeze! No squeeze.” Din separates the Anzellan from Grogu and the tiny mechanic fixes his goggles. “Bad baby! Oh, he’s a bad baby.”

Astra suppresses a laugh with one hand at the scene. “Sorry about that,” Din apologizes. “He’s young.”

“Yeah, bad baby,” the Anzellan continues to rant. Grogu looks at the Anzellan and Astra already knows what he’s going to do before he lunges for the mechanic once again. “Oh!”

Din sighs and reaches forward. “No, Grogu.”

“Come here, Grogu!” Astra tries to draw their son to her. “Your sister and I got you something!”

Grogu’s attention is successfully stolen from the Anzellan at the sound of Astra’s voice. He waddles to the doorway and greets Astra and Zora with a gleeful coo. Zora offers the same as she extends her tiny arms towards him. “Go!” she cheers.

Grogu’s ears rise as high as they can on his head as he hugs her just like he’d hugged the Anzellan. Astra grins and supports Zora with one hand as she runs along Grogu’s ear with the other. “You and your father have special treats awaiting you,” Astra tells him. “But you’ve got to be on your best behavior. Okay?”

Grogu pulls away from the embrace with his sister and coos in understanding. His ears fall a bit and Astra pats his head.

“It’s okay. Just make sure you’re listening to your father and I.”

Grogu nods and lets his ears rise higher again. Astra looks beyond Grogu to see Din crawling his way out of the small workspace. He grunts as he heaves himself back to his feet and Astra does the same, earning a protest from Zora as she’s separated from her brother. She sets her back in the pram and does the same with Grogu, keeping them occupied while she approaches Din.

“So,” Astra begins, relieved by the presence of her husband even after such a brief separation, “what did I miss?”

“They’ll fix IG,” Din answers. “We just need to get them a new memory circuit.” Before Astra can question him, Din goes on. “I’m sure Peli’s Jawa friends can help us with that.”

Astra nods. “That’s true, and I’m sure the ship could use some touch-ups before we set out to Mandalore.”

Din sets a hand on her back. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” His visor falls to the pouch on Astra’s belt. “Now, what’s this about ‘special treats?’”

Astra grins at him. “You’ll see.” She points at the Anzellans’ workshop. “I think we have some business to attend to first.”

Din circles his hand on her back and nods. “Way to keep us on track, rid’ika.” He looks over at Greef. “We’d best be heading out, now.”

Greef gestures to the way ahead. “Please, let me escort you.”

The magistrate leads the way for the Djarin family through the busy streets of Nevarro. A bittersweet feeling rushes over Astra as she looks around and prepares to leave it all behind. It’s not much different than the feeling Sorgan gave her so long ago when she and Din first had to leave. The promise of a home is left here, and as hard as it is for her to move on from it, supporting Din and his redemption is her priority. Nothing is more important to Astra than the happiness and health of her family, the home she gets to take with her all over the galaxy.

Din invites Astra even closer to her side, as if he’s read her thoughts. His gloved hand laces through hers as he looks over at her. “I’m sorry we have to leave,” he utters his genuine apology.

“No more apologies,” Astra remarks, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m the one who insisted upon going on this journey with you. No place is a home for me without you.” She lifts their entwined hands to her lips and kisses his leather knuckles. “Your redemption is our priority. Our home will come in time.”

Din tilts his helmet, his armored chest rising and falling in a deep breath as he swings his helmet away from her. “If it was the Crest we were headed back to… I’d properly thank you for that.”

Astra laughs and rests her head against his arm. “I understand.” She lowers her voice to keep their conversation even more private. “But last night was enough for me to know.”

Din’s visor snaps her way again. “It wasn’t nearly enough, cyar’ika.” He lifts his free hand to hold her chin. “Until I get the opportunity to love you the way you deserve each and every day, it’ll never be enough.”

Astra beams and turns her face away from him in shyness. “You love me in many different ways, riduur.”

“I do whatever I can.” Din swings their arms back-and-forth in a subtle motion. “But you deserve the best.”

Astra’s not given the opportunity to respond as they make it back to the starfighter. Greef watches as the Djarin family steps inside, Din taking Grogu and Astra holding on to Zora. The youngest Djarin is sound asleep thanks to the comforts of her jogan treat. Astra cradles her close and watches as Din checks in on everyone before he gets himself settled with Grogu.

Greef nods and looks between Din and Astra. “We hope to see you soon,” he says to them.

Din returns the gesture. “Keep IG-11 safe until we get back with that part.”

Greef takes a quick glance over his shoulder and offers a hopeful smile. “If the Anzellans can’t find it, I don’t know who can.” The two friends nod at each other once more. “Safe travels.”

Grogu waves at Greef as he backs away from the ship. Astra chuckles to herself while Din powers up the ship. In just a few moments, they’re headed away from Nevarro, returning to the endless sea of stars. Astra takes a deep breath and plants a kiss in Zora’s curly hair. She’d follow her husband all over the galaxy, but that never makes their return to the stars any easier.

Din’s voice startles Astra when it comes through the intercom. “Before we head to Peli’s, I’d like to check in with Bo-Katan,” Din informs her. “We can tell her of our plans.”

Astra swallows her nerves and responds. “Sure, Din. Whatever you think is best.”

“It’ll be quick.” Din pauses and Astra can hear Grogu’s curious coos. Her chest flames with warmth when Din begins to speak to him. “All right, buddy, listen carefully. Being a Mandalorian’s not just learning about how to fight. You also have to know how to navigate the galaxy, because you never know where you might be headed next.”

Astra strains herself somewhat to see past Din’s helmet. Her lips widen in a smile when she sees Din pointing out his console stations.

“This here is your hyperspace map.” Grogu releases a long coo. “You determine your range by looking at your fuel gauge. And this…”

Din gets cut off by a rapid beeping tone. Grogu whimpers with worry and Astra has to keep herself from doing the same.

“. . . Is your enemy proximity warning indicator.” Din glances over his shoulder to locate the threat. Astra’s gaze follows his, a concerned knot securing itself inside her stomach. “Hang on, kid. We got pirates.” Din takes another look back at Astra. “You too, rid’ika.”

“I’ll try my best,” Astra assures him. She clutches Zora tight enough to make the sleeping child huff with a surprised breath.

A familiar voice announces itself over the intercoms. “Avast, Mandalorian,” the pirate Vane says. Astra’s blood runs cold in her veins; They waited this long for us? “You can’t just sneak away after cuttin’ down four of my brothers in cold blood.”

Astra kneads her fingers against Zora in gentle yet anxious motions. She wonders if Vane’s even aware of her and Zora’s presence.

“We’re Pirate King Gorian Shard’s men,” Vane continues, “now you’ll answer to him.”

Din’s quick with his witty response. “Gorian Shard should stick to hijacking and ransoming.”

Astra can see Grogu nestle himself underneath Din’s bandolier, and just a moment later, Din’s pushing the starfighter forward. Zora stirs on Astra’s shoulder at the motion, even trying to lift her head. Astra sets a hand upon it and urges it back down. “It’s all right, Zo,” Astra assures her, despite the way their ship begins to spin over and over again to avoid getting shot down. “Papa’s got it.”

Zora wriggles in Astra’s grasp, either curious or concerned about what’s going on. “Baba!” she exclaims, her voice muffled.

Din can still hear it. “I’m here, Zozo!” he reassures her through the intercom. More beeping from the console cuts off anything else he was going to say to his daughter. “Three more.”

Astra closes her eyes and heaves a deep breath. A dogfight wasn’t the ideal way she saw this journey beginning. Zora fusses and Astra puts all her focus into keeping herself calm. Din’s always composed in these situations; the unease Zora senses can only be coming from her mother. Astra reopens her eyes and upon seeing Din weaving them through an asteroid field, she hides her face in her daughter’s head.

She’s surprised to find that as the dogfight goes on, Zora’s worried coos turn to soft laughter, just like her brother’s that make their way through the intercom. Astra can’t help chuckling and shaking her head. Only her and Din’s children would find this kind of dangerous chaos amusing.

Bright flashes of explosions outside the viewport draw Astra’s attention back to the fight. Din’s taking out their fighters easily, which brings a victorious smile to Astra’s lips. Despite her worries, she truly never doubted her husband’s piloting abilities. He’s the best she’s ever flown with, and when it comes to his family’s safety, he doesn’t mess around.

Soon, only Vane’s fighter is left. Din pursues him with no mercy, weaving through each obstacle with ease. Astra holds her breath as she waits for Din to take the final shot that will end this crisis, but when Din pilots the starfighter around one of the larger asteroids in his pursuit, all Astra can see is a ship that’s much too large to avoid. The alarm beeps and Astra keeps Zora close, her eyes widening when she sees guns from all over the ship engage.

“Dank farrik,” Din curses with a sigh. “They have a target lock on us.”

“Din…” Astra warns. Zora whines from her place against Astra’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Din takes a calculated breath. “Just… hang on to something.”

Astra does as he says while a new voice comes over the comms. “Stop where you are, Mandalorian. You’re outgunned.”

Din responds with his signature amount of composure. “I have no quarrel with you, Gorian Shard.”

“Ha! What a kind sentiment from a man who just destroyed four of my fighters.”

Astra bites her tongue to keep herself from responding to the pirate. Din also says nothing, letting the Pirate King continue.

“Surrender your ship and I will spare your life.”

Din looks down at Grogu and glances over his shoulder at Zora. “Kids?” Both Grogu and Zora coo at their father. Astra raises a curious eyebrow. “Never trust a pirate.”

With that, Din activates the starfighter’s sublight thrusters. Astra closes her eyes and resists the urge to exclaim a curse aloud as both Grogu and Zora giggle their way over Gorian Shard’s ship. Din gets them into hyperspace just moments later, and as soon as the piloting’s out of his control, he nearly turns his whole body around to look at Astra and Zora.

“Are you two okay?” Din’s tone is laced with the concern he can reveal now that it’s safe for him to do so.

“We’re fine,” Astra assures him with a smile. She lets Zora sit up from her shoulder and their daughter coos and presses her hands against the transparisteel that separates them.

“Baba!” Zora cheers as she bounces herself with excitement on Astra’s lap.

“Zozo!” Din exclaims back at her.

“Baba, Baba, Baba!” Zora presses even more against the transparisteel as she starts to realize she can’t get through. Her exclamations of joy quickly turn to cries as she tries to get to her father. “Baba…”

“Oh, baby girl, I know.” Din faces forward and checks the console. “We’ll be out of hyperspace and on planet in just a few minutes, okay?”

Zora looks at Astra with a wobbling lip. “Mmma,” she whimpers. She points at the transparisteel. “Baba… Go…”

The warmth that floods Astra’s chest is incomparable as she gives her daughter an encouraging smile. “We’ll be reunited with them in just a few minutes, angel.”

Zora continues to pout, but ultimately lets herself fall back into Astra’s arms. The starfighter jumps out of hyperspace moments later, revealing a planet of swirling blues and greens. “This is Kalevala,” Din announces, likely to a curious Grogu. “It’s another planet in the Mandalorian system.” Rain starts to hit the transparisteel as they continue their descent. Astra can see the structure they’re approaching just as Din mentions it. “And that is a Mandalorian castle.”

Astra’s lips spread in a bittersweet smile. She’s heard of the planet before, back when she was a child. Her parents had visited on diplomatic business, though Astra had still been too young to attend with them. The castle is somewhat reminiscent of the many Astra visited with her parents once she was older. She can only hope that whoever dwells within it will maintain their sense of diplomacy.

Din lands the starfighter and opens his canopy without a moment to waste. Grogu gets the pram ready while Din helps Astra and Zora out of the ship. He keeps Zora tucked in his arm and shields her from the rain as best he can with his cape. Astra stays close by his side as their family makes their way past the service droid and up towards the castle. She forces herself to take a deep breath, though the thoughts of an unwanted duel plague her mind and heart.

The Djarin family comes upon a long corridor that leads to an occupied throne. Astra moves even closer to Din’s side and he accepts her there, brushing a hand over her back for comfort. His hand returns to his side once they get closer, their footsteps being the only noise heard until Din finally announces their arrival.

“Bo-Katan,” Din calls for her. “It is Din and Astra Djarin.”

Bo-Katan looks at them, unimpressed from where she sits—no, lays—upon her throne. Astra swallows hard and raises her chin as her and Din stop in front of her.

“We are here to join you,” Din finishes.

Bo-Katan doesn’t move as she takes a long pause. “There’s nothing left to join.”

Din and Astra share a confused look. “What of your plans to retake Mandalore?” he asks her.

Bo-Katan raises her brow. “When I returned without the Darksaber, my forces melted away.” Astra tightens her hands into fists at her mention of the weapon that hangs from Din’s belt.

“Where is the stolen fleet?”

“Making their way through the galaxy as mercenaries.” Bo-Katan gives Din a quick once-over. Astra circles her jaw. “Do you still have the saber?”

Din looks down for a moment. “I do.” His visor returns to Bo-Katan.

“Then you lead them. Wave that thing around and they’ll do whatever you say.”

“You would know,” Astra mutters to herself.

Din moves closer to her side, a gentle warning. He keeps his attention on Bo-Katan. “So you gave up your designs to retake Mandalore?”

Bo-Katan waits a beat before answering. Her words bring an anger like fire to Astra’s veins. “Your cult gave up on Mandalore long before the Purge. Where were you then?”

Din’s visor starts to fall as Astra’s vision becomes a red haze.

“The Children of the Watch and all the factions that came before fractured and shattered our people.” Bo-Katan pauses and looks between both Din and Astra. “Go home.”

“We don’t have a home to go to,” Astra speaks up before she can stop herself. Her tone is as fiery as the rage she’s fighting to suppress. “Much like you, we’ve both lost our homes. He’s lost his not once, but twice. We know well what this loss feels like.” Astra gestures to where Bo-Katan continues to remain laid out on her throne. “But we didn’t sit around, wait for people to feel sorry for us, and blame others even when plans changed. We decided to move on and do something.”

Bo-Katan remains unfazed. She sits in the silence and gives her head a small shake. “It’s pointless. There’s nothing left.”

Din speaks before Astra has the chance to. “We’re going to Mandalore,” he insists, “so that I may bathe in the Living Waters and be forgiven for my transgressions.”

Astra’s jaw tightens when Bo-Katan suppresses the urge to laugh at him. “You are a fool. There’s nothing magic about the mines of Mandalore. They supplied beskar ore to our ancestors and the rest is superstition.”

“Have you ever considered that there may be beliefs other than your own?” Astra snaps, unable to help herself any longer, “Just because they aren’t yours doesn’t mean they’re not correct.”

Bo-Katan doesn’t miss a beat with her response. “Have you ever considered that the man you’re defending left you, his wife, stranded alone on a boat over these same beliefs?”

Astra makes a move towards Bo-Katan, but the quick grasp Din takes on her arm stops her. She looks at her husband with poorly concealed fury. Zora whimpers from her place against Din’s armored shoulder as he tilts his helmet at her. “Don’t defend that action of mine,” he murmurs. “She’s right.” Din turns his visor towards Bo-Katan. “I should be speaking for myself.”

Astra forces herself to take a deep breath for composure while Bo-Katan continues. “Like I said before, there’s nothing left on Mandalore. That planet has been ravaged, plundered, and poisoned.”

“You said that the curse was a lie,” Din reminds her. “Make up your mind.”

Bo-Katan takes a breath. “If you want to go into the mines, be my guest. They’re beneath the civic center in the city of Sundari.”

Din nods at her. “Thank you.” He looks at Astra and nods. “And we will find out if the planet is really poisoned.”

With that, Din turns to walk away from the throne. Astra follows, though she doesn’t start to relax until Din sets a hand upon her back and keeps it there. Bo-Katan says one last thing in a tone that makes Astra fight the urge to turn back around. “Goodbye, Din and Astra Djarin.”

Silence sits between Din and Astra until they’ve made their way back to the starfighter. They pause at the bottom of the stairs and face each other. Astra sighs and holds her arms, a strong wave of shame overcoming her. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes to Din as she avoids his visor. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…” Astra huffs and holds her arms tighter. “I know how much your Creed means to you, and to hear her say those things is just… it’s not okay.”

Din sets Zora beside Grogu in the pram and holds Astra’s face between his gloved hands. She meets his visor and the look alone brings her an overwhelming warmth of comfort. After a long pause, Din speaks in a soft and genuine voice that crackles through his modulator. “Thank you.” He pulls her into an embrace, tucking her head under the lip of his helmet as she holds tight to his middle. “You said all the things I wasn’t brave enough to.” He sighs and buries his helmet more into her. “Thank you for the way you love me and my Creed.” Astra can hear Din’s hard swallow. “Even after what I did to you.”

Astra pulls away from the embrace to hold his helmet between her hands. “I understand, Din. We talked through it long ago. You don’t have to carry that burden any longer.” She presses his helmet to her forehead. “I promise.” She kisses his visor. “No matter what anyone says, it’s you and me against the galaxy.”

Din holds her face in return. “I agree.” He lets himself release a soft chuckle. “But let’s just start with Mandalore.”

Astra laughs with him. “Sounds good to me.”

With that, the Djarin family prepares for one more stop on their journey to Mandalore. As the starfighter takes off, Astra prays to the stars that the hardest part of their adventure is past them, though she knows it’s a naive hope to have going to a planet that very well may have nothing but disappointment and danger to offer them.

previous ⟸ masterlist ⟹ next

security tag list: @themilkface​​ @heyitsjaybird​​ @theindiealto​​ @maryan028​​ @lamnothome​​ @taman-a​​ @tmnt-would2​​ @valeecruz16​ @awesomefandomsunited​ @maajikcrossing​ @notawhitegirlblog​ @mrsparknuts​ @ezraslittleblondestreak​ @hoodedbirdie​​ @nerd-without-a-cause​​ @daffodin-blog​​ @vernon-dursley​​ @remmyswritings​​ @rintheemolion​​ @angelbabymed​​ @myguiltypleasures21​​ @whats-a-blog-again​​ @lv7867​​ @salty-sith-bitch​​ @lifeisapitch15​​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​ @blackcupidangel​​ @irishfaulk97​​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​​ @creating-constellations​​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​​ @nerdypinupcrystal​​ @mermaidbrina​​ @lanie103​​ @elizabethren​​ @stardustandkyber​​ @t3a-bag​​ @dxnxdjarxn​​  @orneryscandalousevil​​ @simpfordin​​ @magicrowiswritingstuff​ @myheart-pedro​​ @bewitchedbodyandsol​​ @marvelous-glims​​ @mostclevermiss​​ @peachyaeger​​ @mrs-djarin-89​​ @murdertoothpick​​ @jackiereadsfics​​​

all star wars characters: @hugmekenobi​​ @themarvelousbee​​ @nembees​​ @amneris21​​@wildmoonflower​​ @bombshe77​​ @harriedandharassed​​ @againstacecilia​​ @ladykatakuri​​ @bludyl​​ @erin-is-sky​​ @tanzthompson​​​ @murdertoothpick​​​ @mandoloriancookie​​​

din djarin: @swol-bear​​ @notagamersdey​​ @les-ingenue​​ @booksaremyyoga​​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​​ @dheet​ @mccn-bcys​ @alwaysdjarin​ @reader-without-a-story​ @cyaredindjarin​@toobsessedsstuff​ @unofficialavenger90​ @tizylish​ @your-slutty-gf​ @untitledarea​ @pedropascalmyloveee​ @mildlyhopeless​ @lexloon​ @jellybeanstacey0519​ @uwiuwi​ @lake-145​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @hello-th3r3​ @jackiereadsfics​

↳ add yourself to a taglist here!

[shinymisty-blog]

The Triplets (Sonic, Sonia, and Manic)

When I first took the journey back in early 2023, I was expecting I wouldn’t like two-thirds of the trio. But, after the journey, I only disliked ONE-THIRD of the trio! But they are all the main characters, even if one has more plot armor than the others.

Disclaimers and notes for this particular post: •Be warned: These posts are often just MASSIVE walls of text! I have the "Keep Reading" tab there for a reason! •While there is no real order to these, I’ll try and keep things in order of relevance. •There will be times when I'll reference something that involves things that would be more relevant after the 40 episodes. During these headcanons, I'll place a nice little ✨ to indicate that it is one of those headcanons. (Everything mentioned will have some sort of explanation if needed). Think of it as a sneak peek at the story I am working on. •If I happen to update anything within this post, I’ll reblog it with the tag #Sonic Underground Project Update, along with a note on which information was updated. 

Links: Master Post | The Origin’s Arc 

·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ The Trio Together ♫♪♩·.¸¸.·

Together, the trio seem tightly knitted and FEEL like siblings. I love that about them. As the youngest sister of three, I get the dynamic, even if we aren’t twins. I want these three to be happy. I want to see them succeed. I want them to reunite with their mother. 

Although, ironically, I also kind of wish we had more with them separated, or mingling with other characters. But, ah well. That’s what writers are for. 

•♫•♬• Headcanons •♬•♫•.

➣The triplets are 15 in the Origin Arc, Wedding Bell Blues, and To Catch a Queen. They turn 16 in Mobodoon. Normally, I’d wait till Mobodoon to put this down but I feel it is too important not to have it right at the start. This makes plot points in other episodes (and wikis) a lot smoother. And it is all thanks to Sonia. 

➣Originally the siblings would take turns keeping a lookout while the others slept, they realized quickly that the van worked as their lookout, as it would let out an alarm if someone attempted to enter. Manic still sleeps pretty loosely, however. 

➣They also take turns being in charge of driving, though Sonic is least willing to do so.

·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ Sonic ♫♪♩·.¸¸.·

Did you guess that Sonic was the one I didn’t like from the three? Congratulations, that’s exactly right! He was also one of the two I didn’t think I’d enjoy going into the journey. So I was 50% right. 

Yeah. I felt Sonic was bland. Although, it could be my foggy brain playing tricks on me, covering up all of Sonic’s development and character…but I doubt it. All I remember from him being impatient, obsessed with chili dogs to an alarming degree, and seemingly being the leader of the trio. (His name is in the name of their band, you cannot tell me he wasn’t the leader).

HOPEFULLY, things will change as I add more information here throughout the series, I’ll be pleasantly surprised with what I come out with. Here’s hoping. 

•♫•♬• Headcanons •♬•♫•.

➣Sonic was born first out of the three. (I believe this is canon, but I’m putting it here anyway)

➣Though this is technically canon, Sonic’s eye color is green, parallel to Manic’s fur color.

➣Sonic is the unannounced leader of the group. He didn’t want this, it just kind of happened. 

·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ Sonia ♫♪♩·.¸¸.·

Did you guess that Sonia was one of the two I felt like I wouldn’t like going into the journey? Congratulation! I was surprisingly shocked by how much I fell in love with Sonia throughout the journey. 

I feared I’d grow very tired of Sonia’s “rich” and “the girl” characteristics…and I did, but her growing up within the highest class also helped give her so much character. She had lost so much and had the hardest adjusting to this new life. It helps that I came in already liking Bartleby, the character that is closely linked to Sonia. 

Her voice is the most annoying of the three. I can’t blame Jaleel White, though. Wasn’t his fault.

•♫•♬• Headcanons •♬•♫•

➣Sonia was born second out of the three. (I believe this is canon, but I’m putting it here anyway)

➣Sonia’s eyes are blue, parallel to Sonic’s fur color.  

➣Out of the three, Sonia is the only one who has a driver's license. While she is originally greatly upset over learning her brothers were driving without one. She quickly realized that having a license for anything was expensive, which made it impossible for any normal mobian to get one, and quickly dropped her judgment. In their spare time, she teaches her brothers the things they still need to learn to help prep them for their eventual driver's test. 

➣A young Sonia often went out to do self-defense training, much to Lady Windermere’s dismay. Unbinounced to her, Sonia encountered Dingo when they were both kids during one of these outings, mistakenly kicking him.

➣She and Bartleby grew up together. The duo would get into trouble that kids would usually get into. 

·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ Manic ♫♪♩·.¸¸.·

…I like Manic… I knew jumping into the project that, even if I didn’t like his siblings, I’d like Manic. And I was right. Out of the three, Manic was always my favorite by just what little I knew before the journey, and he is still my favorite by the end of the journey. Nothing has changed. 

I genuinely believe Manic was the character with the most development out of the trio and took second for the most development out of ALL characters in the series. Even if he often falls back to his character tropes, I still feel that he grew as a character by the end of the series. He came from living the worst out of the trio to realizing he was taken away from a luxurious life at birth. This boy needs therapy after this is done.

•♫•♬• Headcanons •♬•♫•

➣Manic was born last out of the three. (I believe this is canon, but I’m putting it here anyway)

➣Manic’s eyes are Fuchsia, parallel to Sonia’s fur color. 

➣He doesn’t let it show, but Manic holds slight resentment over Aleena and how she handled splitting him and his siblings up, thinking that they could have all stayed in Mobodoon together.

➣While Farrell tried to teach Manic that he should have some trust in others, an encounter with a shady mobian made him question if he could trust strangers or not. Encounters with mobians like Stripes and Luke didn’t help with his lack of trust. 

[captain-gillian]

❤️ Favorite part of your favorite ship?

👀 What made you keep watching the show?

🍪 What if Nancy had to quit after the DNR storyline? What does she do instead of being a paramedic?

🤹‍♀️ Give a hidden talent to all the main characters (or those of your choosing)!

Sorry I know 4 is too many but I wanna knooww

🌼

omg 4 is not too many, i look forward to answering these, thank you for sending this!

❤️ Favorite part of your favorite ship?

already answered here

👀 What made you keep watching the show?

i was already watching og 911 and loved it, so i've watched LS as it's aired, despite my r*b l*we related reservations and i was just hooked straight away, the characters were all so interesting and i needed to know more about them and i adored the found family of it

🍪 What if Nancy had to quit after the DNR storyline? What does she do instead of being a paramedic?

I can see her going down a few different paths. moving interstate to still be able to work as a paramedic if that's not a cop out, or moving into a role at dispatch potentially as a like medical expert dispatcher like we've seen a few times on OG, who can walk people through more complicated emt things and first aid over the phone. or my personal favourite would be here moving into a role like social work to still be able to help people. I can't personally see her going into like, nursing or medicine, but social work i could 100% see.

🤹‍♀️ Give a hidden talent to all the main characters (or those of your choosing)!

ooh this one is tricky but so fun, some i will be elaborating on more than others,

for tk he's secretly a really talented artist, this is really inspired by the written in the stars series by @fallout-mars but im applying it to canon tk too

for carlos his hidden talent is writing, poetry specifically, it started as a way to process his emotions because talking about them wasn't really the done thing in his family as a kid, and he really enjoyed it and kept at it and got really good. (also semi inspired by the written in the stars series) (but also you can't tell me carlos doesn't have the soul of a poet)

for paul i could also see paul having a talent for writing, but fiction, mystery detective novels that could rival arthur conan doyle specifically, but he never shares it with anyone. he's also a speed reader.

for mateo parkour, he learnt it because he wanted to be like spiderman and also thought it might come in handy on the job, but mostly the spiderman thing

for judd he can bake, like really well, it brings him peace and helps him feel connected to his 126 brother Chuck 'Chef' Parkland who they lost in the explosion and who he learned most of his baking skills from. He mastered the art of sourdough propped on a stool in the kitchen while he was recovering from his broken leg and he's currently learning the art of vegan baking for Wyatt, he tests his recipes on Owen so they're perfect by the time he shares them with his son. Maybe he and Wyatt bake together as a form of therapy as Wyatt recovers from his accident?

for grace is it a cop out to say gaming, but like, being better at it than judd?

for owen he can juggle, just because i think it would be really funny if someone with a clown phobia was really good at juggling (does that make me a terrible person?)

for tommy she knits, she started knitting to help her stress levels during her fertility journey and to make some things for her future baby as a way to keep hope alive, and she kept it up because it brings her peace to sit each night and make something with her own two hands, it calms her mind after a difficult shift. she's constantly gifting the 126 hand knit presents and donating knitted hats and scarfs and blankets to local groups who work with the local homeless community

for marjan she just has a way with animals, animals are drawn to her and training them comes naturally to her, she's definetly befriended a crow that lives in her neighbourhood

for nancy, acting, maybe also a bit singing and dancing, but mostly the acting, which ties into my nancy was a theatre kid headcanon

am i forgetting anyone? i feel like im forgetting someone?

[outpost51]

Tiny Scene Sunday

Dredge has consumed me im not sorry for the amount of nautical shit coming up

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Lady of the Lighthouse

Cold hands, warm heart.

My wife never knitted clothes for herself.

She painted intricate patterns with wool and formed them to my shape, and then she’d steal back her gifts after I’d worn them a few times. It was like a hug from me, she said, when I had to leave our bed in the darkness of early morning, before the sun had even shucked off its velvet covers and risen for the day. As long as she stayed safe and warm indoors, I told her, she could steal the boots right off my feet if she wanted. She was a sight, she was, but when she scrunched up her freckle-dusted nose with her smile? Captains would sink their whole fleets for a glimpse.

The things that danced in my lantern-light, feasting on whatever poor souls had missed the lighthouse and ended their journeys dashed against the rocks, weren’t ever meant for her to see. They’d take one look at her big brown eyes, wide with the innocent wonder of a fresh doe, and no amount of light would keep them from climbing right up the salt-worn stone to steal her from me. I never imagined I’d see such horrors rising from the frigid depths of the dark water, and I never wished such a thing on her either.

Someone had to keep watch in the lighthouse, though, and someone had to put more wool in her spindle, and not a goddamn soul on this earth would have convinced her to stay cooped up in that drafty house alone for months on end. She wasn’t a treasure to bury in a box beneath the sand, anyway; she could’ve lit the sea by herself if she wanted.

“Do you think they’re cold?”

Her voice nearly startled me over the railing. She settled my heart with a soft laugh so quiet it was nearly swept away by the water below. “Go inside, love, you don’t need—”

She cut me off with a huff, planting her hands firmly on her hips. A sudden gust whipped her nightgown around her ankles — she really had stolen a pair of my boots, mischievous thing. “I’ll be the judge of what I need, thank you.” Glancing back over the railing, she carried on: “They must be freezing in that water.”

“Who?” I asked, hoping she meant the sailors staining the rocks a deep crimson.

She didn’t answer, instead giving me a look that confirmed I’d been dead wrong. Dread soured my stomach. My wife kissed the salt from my cheeks and went back inside without another word.

A week later, something heavy fluttered over the railing, and I thought for one heart wrenching moment she’d gone mad. Gone over. I couldn’t bear to check.

“I hope it fits,” she whispered behind me, giddy and proud.

Sure enough, when I looked over the rail, the terrible things, previously lounging in the crags between the rocks while they waited for their next meal, were investigating the four-armed garment my wife had tossed over. The one I’d pegged as their leader — it was dappled with patches of bone-white, where the rest were dark, solid colors — figured it out first, slipping the sweater over its head and turning around and around for its comrades to see.

“Do you think they like it?”

I couldn’t live with myself if I put out that light in her eyes. “Seems so,” I replied. When I turned back to the things after watching her head back inside, the leader was staring up at me.

I kept an old pistol in the bedside drawer, just in case. It went under my pillow that night.

Just in case.

Wet thumping woke us a few hours from dawn. At first, I didn’t know what it could be — the room was as dark as always.

Then I saw their eyes shining back at me. Seven of them, smelling of low tide and so much bigger up close, were gathered at the end of our bed with dark, dripping bundles in their arms. All at once, they dropped their cargo, and all at once, they melted back into the night. We were alone when my wife lit the lamp.

Piles of sopping plants carpeted the floor.

“Oh,” she murmured. “I suppose wool wouldn’t be the best material in the water, would it?”

My wife never knitted clothes for herself.

She spun yarn from sea grass and made garments for the things that lived in the fathoms below.

[myriath]

FIRST LINE TAG 🖋📝

Thanks for @brasideios and @helloliriels for tagging me. This is one of the best tag games so far. Reading what you all wrote motivates to pick up the pen even after working extra hours (again).

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics, post first line of all your fics.

Whispers from 221B

John: This is a sheep. Sherlock: Brilliant observation, John. John: There is a sheep in our flat.

The Whispers are a collection of not connected dialogue snippets I write on my side blog meant to inspire everyone who loves to write. (BBC Sherlock)

Operation: Umbrella for Two (WIP)

Molly Hooper was acting odd. Surely, John was no genius consulting detective, but he was convinced that his observation was right.

What happens when John and Sherlock discover that someone writes fanfiction about them? (BBC Sherlock)

The Jumper (WIP)

Sherlock’s boredom could be roughly divided into seven stages.

When Sherlock gets bored he starts doing things. For example learning how to knit. (BBC Sherlock)

Engagement in Defiance

“Sherlock?” Mummy asked in an innocent tone, turning a page in her magazine. “Why won’t you let me arrange a meeting for you with Christine Morris? You got on so well as children, didn’t you?”

Visiting the family can change a friendship. (BBC Sherlock)

The two Johns

It had been a while since John Hamish Watson had last entered the flat of 221B Baker Street. It had been even longer since he had lived there.

After a long journey, John returns to Baker Street, hoping that there is still a place for him in his old room. But when he arrives he finds that Sherlock is already living with another John. (BBC Sherlock)

Something we do

John woke up with the onset of sunrise. The warm light of dawn would soon fall through the window and bathe the room on the top floor of 221B Baker Street in a warm golden light. John loved mornings like this.

A lazy morning snuggle at 221B Baker Street. (BBC Sherlock)

The Proposal

“Oh come on, Johnny, you can’t throw that thing in the duck pond,” Bill complained, slurring his words, and tried to snatch the ring out of John’s hand. “That was expensive! Maybe you can get your money back?”

The purpose of an engagement ring is to propose to someone. And sometimes this someone is a total stranger. (BBC Sherlock)

Dear Eivor (WIP)

Dear Eivor, I am sorry. I’m going to break my promise. The promise you asked me more than once to give and that I always believed I could keep. But I was wrong, because I’m going to break it.

When Vili learns that he will be leaving Norway, he starts writing letters to Eivor. Letters in which he talks about his thoughts and feelings. (AC Valhalla)

Call me Pater (WIP)

“I think it’s time you introduce him to me.”

After weeks of getting to know her son again, Myrrine decided it was time to meet the man who raised Alexios for her. But if Alexios had known what the seemingly harmless meeting would lead to, he would never have let it happen. (AC Odyssey)

Healing (WIP but works in itself as a finished story)

In front of the fire sat a man. He was alone, staring into the flames like he either tried to keep them burning or to extinguish them, Eivor wasn’t sure about this.

Up close, Broder looked even worse. Once a proud man with a smile on his lips, he was now a shadow of himself. (AC Valhalla)

Well, this was fun. And I definitely have too many WIPs, which I should change, I know. Hopefully soon-ish.

I tag @woodsman2b, @jrow and @chriscalledmesweetie.

[axigailxo]

tw// death

hi abi, you don't have to post this if you are uncomfortable to share it on your blog. i resonate with pretty like you a lot. there's this girl i grew up with and i looked up to her. she was gorgeous and popular, the type of person that made you feel special if she so much as looked in your direction. and well

i wanted to be her.

just recently there was news of her passing and i was so shocked i couldn't believe it. tbh be honest i am still in denial. many years have passed since grade school but the news of her send a wave of emotions that i felt during that time of my childhood. while grieving and discussing with another person that knew her, i was surprised to learn that i wasn't the only person who felt that way-- they had the same sentiment; they wanted to be her too.

it was such an odd thing to not only think and hold in for all those years, but for it to be voiced and know that others felt the same way?

i have a long ways ahead of me in terms of self confidence and self worth. and i don't know if i'll ever get there. i don't need much, just a tight knit group of friends i can trust and confide in, as well as connect with. though, i feel as an adult it is so much harder to find a person/people like that.

okay wow, first off thank you for sharing love. this is a safe space and i’m glad you’re comfortable enough to share it with me and others who may be reading.

i’m sorry for the passing of her, and i’m so incredibly glad you were able to talk to someone else who related to you in terms of how you always felt about her. pretty like you was created for this reason exactly (to show people they aren’t alone when it comes to feeling this way towards others and to encourage self love) and for you to resonate with that is just wow.

self love definitely does take a lot of effort and time and so wanting to love yourself is already a very big step. if it’s not too much to ask, i encourage you to start your journey. it doesn’t have to be today and it definitely doesn’t have to be done soon, but at least start. because trust me when i say that the world is a better and more enjoyable place to be when you realize you’re worth being in it. every human born is beautiful beyond words, so i ask of you to see that about yourself. from the message you left me, i can see you may feel somewhat alone in terms of how you think/feel, but i promise you’re not. take me as an example, i haven’t gone a single day without wondering if i’m the only human being who feels a certain way about certain things and etc, but then i realize i’m not.

all it takes is a little self love to overcome almost anything, and i believe you’ll get there. again thank you sm for sharing and i’m glad my story has made you feel seen. xx ♥️

[myfeelisfunny]

Hello hello, I am Mia and I have totally lost control over this blog! 🥳🥳

But because I read somewhere, that to help others (the blog) you must first help yourself (me), I have decided to finally get it together and start to organize some stuff!

So here we go, I guess...

💫About Me💫

There's actually not very much to be said about me specifically.

I'm Mia (on the internet at least ;D) and I have this Tumblr account, thx byee :))

jk, here are some Tumblr-relevant facts about me:

🙆‍♀️ I'm a cis woman, going by she/her pronouns

💬 I speak English, German, French and a bit of Spanish (I don't tag posts language-specific, though)

⌛ I started my fandom journey on Wattpad and am now very happy to have deboarded that particular train for Tumblr xD

🫣 I've also been here for a while, but spent most of my time lurking

💻 I actually don't have any other social media, because I'm very susceptible to doom-scrolling (but I want memes, so I'm very thankful for Tumblr and my saviour the chronological dash lmao)

🩷 I love that there's a community here for any obsession I find myself falling into, so I tend to just cram all of the fandoms in here without thinking twice (but my organization-effort does include trying to compile a list of my most consistent ones :D)

❤️ my offline hobbies include but are not limited to: reading, writing, singing, music, photography, knitting, Magic: The Gathering, nature (whatever that means)

📚 I am an indiscriminate enjoyer of all things written down, whether it be traditionally published books, comics or fanfiction

✏️ I wrote some fanfic in my teenage years, switched to poetry for a while, before coming back to long-form fandom writing

⁉️ Although I am an advocate for Don't like it, don't read it!, I recognize that sometimes it's not that easy. I myself have clear boundaries of what I am and am not comfortable seeing. Therefore I will disclaim that I participate in RPF for fandoms I post about here, but because this is my multifandom dumping site, I'm keeping the rpf-side of things confined to sideblogs with the appropriate notice.

💌 I am always delighted to meet new people and make new friends, so if you want to chat, please don't hesitate to send me a DM or an ask!! <3333

💫About this blog💫

As previously stated, this is my multifandom dumping site. But it is also my meme dumping site. Anything that is not related to a fandom is not specifically tagged (mostly).

In regards to fandom posts, I usually tag the fandom itself and, if relevant, specific ships. I don't normally tag characters, because that would get out of hand pretty quickly. ^^"

My top five most-consistent fandoms at the moment are:

🏎️ Formula 1 (sporadic live-blogging)

🌟 Captain America

🕵️ The Man from Uncle

🔎 Midsomer Murders

🌜 The Sandman (Netflix)

For more/all of them see the fandom list, I definitely had time to compile yet.

My own two cents are organized like this:

✨ #mia screams into the void for original posts

✨ #mia rambles to the void for my comments on other people's posts

✨ #artsy for all things art

✨ #kitties!!! for all things cats

✨ #oh don't go breaking my heart for all the heart-break

✨ #wtf did i just witness for all the mind-break

✨ #oh…oh no for all things 'this is very funny but also wtf people'

✨ I am working on the happy stuff, but atm it's mostly #lmao and all of its variations

✨ #queue what queue no you queue for...the queue

I am really trying to get some organization into this, so I might come up with some more things to differentiate between stuff. I hope this makes sense to anyone else aside from me as well lol.

In any case, if you have read this far, I am really impressed! Thank you for giving me the time of day, I am so glad you exist! (also pls come and chat with me if you want) 🥰🥰

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 08 - Yuja]

Warnings: Smut, they are going down sweet memory lane together :(, switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, mutual masturbation, handjobs, fingering, so much kissing, body worshipping, she’s a lil shy and he is so reassuring, slight overstimulation at the end, many cuddles :(, Yoongi once again being the only one

Wordcount: 12k

a/n: i will break into pieces 😔 i wanna keep living in this world forever :( gosh, this yoongi did it to me so well. he is such a cutie patootie :( thank you to everyone who went on this journey with me, i love you 💜

“What are you doing here?”

You turn.

Yoongi is in a fluffy onesie and with his hair ruffled from sleep. His eyes are puffy, barely staying open.

“I’m just a dream you’re asleep”, you say, feeling your heart begin to race.

“I know I’m not”, he says, holding back a laugh.

“Crap”, you murmur. Okay here we go. You came here to talk, so let’s talk. You take a deep breath before finally making the first move, “I came here to talk.”

Yoongi studies your face, gnawing on his lower lip.

“What I did early today was such a mess and now I’m panicking because I don’t want you to think I was telling you off or something. I’m just a mess and nervous and panicking and a mess. In conclusion I’m a mess.”

Yoongi scoffs in amusement.

“Do you want to come inside? It’s so cold”, he offers.

“Oh yeah, thank god you offered. I was freezing my butt off outside.”

“Yeah sorry, I was kinda asleep when you rang my doorbell, so it took me a while to get up.”

“I figured. Crap, sorry Yoongi. I should have waited until tomorrow or something.”

“No, it’s fine. It wasn’t a good sleep either way.”

You follow him through his cottage to his living room. It was warmer than the rest of the house. There was a pillow and blanket on the couch and in the fireplace coal was still glowing. Yoongi begins cleaning off the sofa from his sleep stuff, carrying it to a chair instead.

“Sorry, I’m sleeping by the fireplace for now because the heaters upstairs broke last night and my bedroom is literal Antarctica”, he explains, turning around. He has his arms wrapped around his own torso, shivering even in the warm room. Not even those fluffy socks he is wearing seem to keep him warm.

“You’re still cold aren’t you?”

He nods his head, “my body needs too long to feel warm after waking up”, he explains with his teeth clattering, “do you mind if I wrap myself up in my blanket?”

“No sure, go ahead. I’ll just sit down here”, you say and blop down on his comfortable sofa. It is still warm from his body, the sensation is seeping through your pyjama pants.

Yoongi claims the spot next to you, making sure to keep at least one pillow of distance between you and him. He has his legs pulled up to his chest and the blanket all the way to his ears.

“So uhm, you wanted to talk to me?” he begins, staring at you with nervous eyes.

“Yes uhm”, you nod your head, “why did we break up?”

He blinks quickly before letting out a breathy laugh.

“You said no easy entrance into this conversation for me.”

“Yeah I know…but I don’t know, it’s the thing which is driving me crazy the most.”

Yoongi stays silent for a while, gnawing on his lower lip with knitted brows. He gives in with a sigh.

“I wasn’t a good husband to you.”

“Huh?”

“I spent too much time in the studio, ignored your texts asking me if I would come home for dinner just so I can finish this one song and then when we did spend time together all I could think about was my work and how I needed to finish this or that.”

“You serious?”

“Of course I am. You think I’m going to lie to you and make myself look bad on purpose?”

“Yeah okay, that does sound like a dumb move. Sorry uhm”, you turn to him, “so we broke up because you were a workaholic basically?”

“Yeah well basically”, he lowers his eyes, “except that I was literally addicted to work. It became so bad that I couldn’t even get hard in the bedroom, which made you feel really ugly and as if I didn’t want you anymore, which wasn’t true at all. In reality, my mind was running on nothing but work, it took up all of me. I didn’t care about anything other than my clients and my music and one day you just had enough.”

Your eyes meet.

“You left me, packed all your things and left. And the worst part? All I thought of at that moment was that I can’t wait to work this heartbreak into a song.”

“Okay damn, I didn’t expect that.”

He laughs painfully.

“That was four years ago. I looked for help after I literally passed out and woke up in a hospital bed after my burnout. I got therapy for my addiction and slowly gained back control over my own life.”

He stops talking to look at you with glassy eyes.

“I’m so sorry ___. That’s all I wanted to tell you for the past four years. I’m so fucking sorry for being such a shitty husband to you. I was so awful and selfish and I will always regret it. I-“, he forces down a sob, clearing his throat and squeezing his eyes shut, “I never got the chance to tell you because before I could get to you and talk to you, you were in the car accident.”

You feel a cold shiver runs down your spine just at the mention it.

“Did you try to visit me in the hospital?” you ask, waiting for his answer with bated breath.

“Of course I did. I spent every single visiting hour with you. I talked to you a lot, watched your favourite cartoons with you and made sure you were always looking your best because that was always important to you.”

You laugh with tears in your voice.

“It was you? You were the one who put on my cartoons?”

He nods his head, looking at his knees.

“Yoongi, I-“, you stop talking to inhale shakily. You scoot closer, “Yoongi, I don’t know what to say. You made the loneliness easier. Holy cow, do you even know how important you were?”

Yoongi shakes his head and lowers his eyes even more.

“I was looking for you everywhere. You were the only thing keeping me from giving up because you gave me comfort. Yoongi I”, you force down a sob, “thank you so much.”

He looks into your eyes and smiles painfully.

"Seriously thank you so much, I owe you my life", you say in a shaky voice. 

He sniffles, rubbing at his button nose and squeezing his eyes shut. 

“You know", he begins with his voice slightly pitched in emotion, "I was really hoping that you would wake up soon and that I could talk to you and make everything right but then-“, his voice becomes quieter as he speaks the next words, “-the doctors called me, told me that you woke up, but that you can’t remember a thing.”

You sit back on your heels, feeling your heart fall in heaviness. He wipes at his eyes.

“I visited you one last time, thinking that seven years together must be enough memories to trigger something. It wasn’t enough, you looked at me as if I was a stranger and the worst part was the fact that I truly was a stranger to you. I was gone, erased, like I never existed. So I stayed a stranger for your sake. I didn’t want to rip open old wounds by telling you how shitty I was to you.”

You feel your stomach sink.

“And you never tried again? To see me, I mean.”

“Once after that. A few months into your rehab I visited the hospital. Not because of you, no I was there to get my shoulder checked out because I was having pain in it for a decade at that point.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah, a truck hit me when I was a teenager. When we were married you always rubbed pain medicine on it on my bad days”, he says and gives you a smile.

You retort it.

“But the point is, I visited the hospital to get my shoulder checked out for my surgery and then I saw you sitting on a bench and I gave in to my own selfishness and walked up to you. Maybe something has changed now that you are better again. So I thought.”

“But it didn’t.”

“No it didn’t”, he lowers his eyes, “you looked at me in confusion and asked me if you know me. I told you that you didn’t and that I had mistaken you for someone else. I went home crying that day because I had all the proof I needed to know that I was actually gone from your mind.”

He sniffles, burying his nose in his blanket to wipe away his tears sneakily.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to cry. I didn’t, didn’t tell anyone a-about this ever. It’s so much.”

“No it’s fine”, you assure him with a painful lump in your throat, “I’m sorry that I didn’t recognize you. That must have been the most painful thing you ever had to feel.”

“Yeah, it was”, he whispers squeakily, forcing his eyes shut to gain back his control.

You reach out and wipe his tears away. Yoongi is frozen, forgetting to cry for your touch had left him too shocked. 

"I'm really sorry Yoongi", you whisper and Yoongi watches a single tear roll down your cheek. 

"It's not your fault", he breathes, reaching for your wrist to touch it softly, "please don’t blame yourself." 

"I just feel so awful. All those years I thought that nobody cared enough for me to visit, while in reality I always had you by my side and, and I couldn’t even thank you for it."

"I'm sorry, I told the doctors and nurses not to tell you of my visits. I just…didn’t want you to be scared of a stranger sitting by your bed claiming to be your ex husband. I didn’t want to creep you out. They agreed, said that it was in your best interest not to overwhelm you with too much information." 

"I understand, I just…I'm so sad that I couldn’t thank you sooner", you say and intertwine your fingers with him, "thank you, Yoongi. Thank you for being there for me."

Yoongi squeezes your hand, caressing your knuckles with this thumb. It is slightly calloused from renovations, but the touch is gentle nonetheless. 

"I'm just happy that I could help. That’s all I wanted. To be there for you."

One gaze at his lips, one second of the unbearable desire to kiss him and you already put distance between you and him again in nervousness.

“So uhm, what changed your mind? Why did you decide to become my neighbour?” you ask.

“I didn’t”, he says, “I really didn’t. I decided to move to the countryside because life in the city suffocated me. You know, I had too many failed relationships after you, work felt like it was trying to gain back control again and honestly, my apartment sucked too. So I looked for a new place, something with as few stress factors as possible.”

“And the Old House was the best purchase for that?” you ask with slight confusion in your voice.

“Yes. Building something with my hands is the best kind of therapy I can give myself.”

You smile. That sounds so much like Yoongi. Always busy with fixing something. Of course he would find relaxation in it.

“So why my village? Did you know I was living here?”

He shakes his head, “I had no idea. I was so surprised when I saw you on my doorstep that night you caused the short.”

“Urgh don’t remind me.”

He chuckles shyly.

“Sorry, do continue. So you didn’t know I was living here, but you decided to seek my contact?”

“I must admit that yes I did. When I realised that you still didn’t recognize me, I felt sad at first, but then I got the brilliant idea that maybe this could be my chance at a second try. You didn’t know me, you didn’t know how shitty of a husband I was in the past. I could try again, show you the real Min Yoongi without work clouding his mind.”

“Mhm I understand your point. It must have felt like the universe was giving you a chance to make everything right again.”

“It did, it really did. And I’m sorry for the way I handled it. I thought it would be better if I gained your trust first before I tell you that I was your husband in your past life. You must believe me, I never would have let it come to the point of us becoming physical with each other. I don’t know if this makes it any better, but really I never wanted to take advantage of you. I just- fuck.”

He scoots closer to you.

“I’ve fallen in love with you again. The new life you, the real you. Not the bank manager, city girl you of our past, which by the way, still a great catch.”

You laugh.

“But I fell in love with the tea shop owner you of the now. You are just so lovely and sweet and made me feel so welcome when I was a shy mess with everyone and you see so much wonder in the small things and I just- “, he exhales shakily, ”-fell in love with you. And the stronger my feelings for you became, the more I doubted my own promise of telling you about our past. I thought that I didn’t really have to tell you about our past because we were so happy and you didn’t know my past me, you didn’t know about us, you were just a sweet tea shop owner falling in love with a weird city guy.”

“So when I tried to kiss you that night.”

“I knew that it was then or never. I knew that it would be really freaking weird if I pulled back again, especially after the nice evening we had and me basically telling you that I feel the same for you. I knew I couldn’t excuse all that pulling away with my nervousness anymore. Shit ___, I wanted to kiss you so bad that night, but the voice in my head told me to stop being selfish and instead be honest with you. So I was and told you everything and I’m sorry for not being honest with you from the beginning. I really am.”

He finishes by exhaling loudly, sinking in on himself as if finally speaking all those words out loud lifted a million pounds from his shoulders.

“Well damn, that was a hell lot of stuff to take in”, you say and exhale loudly.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know just…give me a quick moment to digest all of this.”

“Yes of course, sure. Take your time.”

He waits for you in silence, fumbling with his own thumbs under the blanket and sneaking glances at you every so often. He is literally dizzy in nervousness. He is so scared of how you might react, already picturing the worst scenarios in his worried, little head.

“So we were married for seven years?” you begin.

“No five, we dated for two before that.”

“And I broke up with you because work was more important to you than our relationship?”

“Yes and I’m sorry that it was.”

“And you visited me when I was in a coma and tried to make me remember you?”

“Yes, I’m sorry if that was creepy.”

“And then you decided to give up the city life and move to the countryside instead, but you didn’t know that you would meet me there?”

“Yes.”

“That’s some fate shit isn’t it?”

“…yes?” he murmurs shyly and with his eyes focused on his floor. It’s cute, it makes you smile.

“And then you decided to build a healthier relationship with me and to do us over?”

“Basically, yes. I know I should have been honest from the beginning and I’m sorry.”

“No honestly? I did some thinking and maybe I’ll sound like a completely crazy person, but I’m kind of glad that you didn’t tell me.”

“Really?” he sounds surprised.

“Yes, again I’m basically crazy at this point, but I think I would have straight up called the police on you if you rang my doorbell and pressed the wedding invitation into my face to tell me that we were married. I definitely would not have wanted to hang out with you, that much is sure.”

“So…me being a coward actually…helped?”

You laugh.

“I think so?” you say, tilting your head to the side.

“Okay…uhm…damn?”

You look at each other. You are the first one to laugh to get rid of the nervous tension. Yoongi joins in a second later to get rid of the pressure on his chest.

Your laughter only lasts a second and then you grow silent, gazing at each other with nervousness in your eyes.

“So what is going to happen to us now? I completely understand if you don’t want to see me anymore”, Yoongi says.

“I don’t know, urgh”, you groan, throwing your head back, “I’m literally so weird because I kind of want to keep seeing you”, you say and groan, “does this make me a total idiot?”

Yoongi smiles and shakes his head.

“Okay good”, you pause to scratch the back of your neck, “do you – uhm – do you have more pictures of us? And can you tell me something about my past? I honestly wanted someone to tell me about my life before the accident for years.”

“Of course I’ll tell you, holy shit ___. I have a photo album, I-I’ll just get it real quick.”

You have never seen a man run faster as Yoongi does at this moment. You couldn’t even really take a deep breath to calm yourself down and he was already on the couch with you again, bundled up in his blanket and with the photo album on his lap.

“Here”, he hands it to you.

“Thanks”, you accept it, opening it on the first page.

Your wedding picture. You in a white dress and Yoongi in a black suit. His hair matches with the suit colour and his cheeks aren’t as round as they are these days. Your cheeks seem rounder, perhaps it was also the way you had your hair back then. You and him were posing for the picture, looking so incredibly happy. 

“That’s us, damn.”

“Mhm-hm yes.”

Yoongi lets you look at the picture in silence, studying your features with bated breath. You seem so interested. Especially in the one picture of you and him kissing after saying your vows.

“Damn that’s so weird. We had a whole wedding and I can’t remember it.”

“It was a really nice day.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. The sun was shining, but it wasn’t too hot. It was a spring wedding because you always loved spring.”

“At least that didn’t change. Spring is the best season. Especially with all the trees blossoming.”

Yoongi smiles, eyes softening.

“You told me that on our second date.”

“I did?” you gasp and look at the next picture, one of you and Yoongi dancing your first dance together, “I did…” you whisper, dragging your thumb over your smiling face in the photograph, “I was really happy, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, you were so beautiful.”

You chuckle, “that’s not what I asked.”

“Yes, you were happy too.”

You sneak a glance at him, feeling yourself burn up under his fond gaze. You flip the page, letting your eyes run over the many pictures of your wedding celebration.

“Anyone you recognize?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Do you want to know?”

“Are they the same people who never visited me in the hospital?”

“Most of them.”

You look at their unknown faces.

“Then no, I don’t want to know”, you say and flip the page.

A new location. You and Yoongi in the grubbiest of your clothes and with moving boxes surrounding you. One picture shows Yoongi trying to build a rocking chair. Another picture shows you bend over the bathtub as you look into the camera with your shirt soaked in water.

“That’s from our moving day. When we finally moved in together. The faucet in the bathtub broke and you tried to fix it.”

“And you took a picture instead of helping me?”

“Yeah”, Yoongi says and laughs boyishly.

“Wow, so mean”, you murmur, giggling afterwards.

You flip the page. More pictures of your moving day. Yoongi fixing the fridge. You installing a wall lamp. The both of you posing for the self timer with tools in your hands as you both pull a silly face.

You flip the page with a smile.

“Aww that’s cute.”

One single picture next to some text. The picture is of you and Yoongi kissing on the sofa, you are sitting on Yoongi’s lap and he has his arms around you. The text lets you know how your moving day went and that Yoongi was a complete meanie as he didn’t help with the faucet but then he fixed the fridge and he was your favourite person again.

“Did I write that?”

“You did. You loved writing a few words between pictures. I did the doodles.”

“They’re so cute. I like the little hammer you drew.”

“Thank you”, he says with his heart melting in his chest.

You flip the page again. You and Yoongi doing all sorts of domestic stuff with each other. Cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry, painting.

“Oh? We painted together?”

“In the beginning we did, yeah”, he says and sighs, “I’m sorry I didn’t find time for it anymore later.”

“Hey, no worries. I can’t remember it anyways”, you joke, sending him a reassuring smile before flipping the pages.

More pictures of you and Yoongi doing domestic stuff together. Going grocery shopping together, painting some more, doing face masks together.

“You look like the tinman of Oz”, you laugh.

“You literally said the same thing when we did those masks.”

“I did?” you gasp, “gosh, I’m repeating myself so it seems.”

Yoongi hums and smiles, resting his head on the backrest of the couch as he hugs a bundle of his blanket to his chest. He thinks you are so cute right now.

You flip the pages again.

“Aaaaaw oh my god, look at how small Holly was”, you exclaim in a high-pitched voice.

Yoongi’s head snaps up. You have reached his favourite page.

“Right?” Yoongi scoots closer to you, “we got him as a puppy. Look”, he points at a picture, “that was on the day we got him. He was so small that he could fit into my palm. Isn’t he so cute?”

“Yeah he’s so adorable. Gosh, look how small he looks in your hand, aaawww.”

You flip the pages. More pictures of you and him with Holly. One picture of him sleeping on Yoongi’s stomach and the words “asleep on dad’s stomach” scribbled next to it. One picture of him sleeping on your chest with the words “asleep on mom’s chest” scribbled next to it. Then one of Yoongi cooing at him as they both are sitting on grass. And another of you lifting him up in the air and smiling at him.

“No wonder he greeted me the way he did. He must have missed me so much", you say.

Yoongi looks at your side profile.

“He did. In the first few months of not having you with us anymore he could only fall asleep on one of your shirts.”

You pout.

“Nooo that’s so sad. Poor Holly.”

“But he has you back now and he seems happier.”

“He does?”

You turn, just your head, and come face to face with his soft gaze. He can’t stop his eyes from flitting to your lips. You didn’t miss it, feeling lighter in your chest at the sight.

“Yeah he’s happier”, Yoongi whispers and looks away as if he had realised what he was doing.

“I’m glad he is”, you breathe, averting your gaze back to the book.

You flip the pages to even more Holly pictures. It makes you giggle.

“I have another photo album and it is filled with even more Holly pictures. You can skip the next ten pages if you want.”

“Hell no, I want to look at all of them.”

And so you look at every single picture on the next ten pages, asking Yoongi every now and then for a few behind the scenes facts. He happily tells you every story and trivia he can remember. For example, that you and Holly always had this silly race in the park, which ended up with both of you too exhausted to walk back home, which ended in Yoongi having to carry Holly and supporting you with a strong arm around your waist. Or that Yoongi was way too overprotective in the beginning and that you had to basically drag him away from Holly because he always wanted to stay by his side. Also that he regularly claimed the entire bed while you and Yoongi had to sleep in one tiny corner. 

Then the pages change. Holly was still in some pictures, but not all of them.

“We went camping?”

“We did. You loved it. I would have preferred an actual bed, but you insisted that we sleep in a tent and watch the stars.”

“Ah god that sounds like me”, you cringe and chuckle as you point at a picture of Yoongi with his hair in a complete mess. He had auburn hair back then, it suits him.

“That was when you woke me up with coffee and then surprised me by taking a picture. I hate that photo.”

“No, it's cute. I especially love the drool on your cheek.”

“Hey”, he whines and nudges your arm.

You turn your head and laugh. Yoongi seems flabbergasted, keeping his hand rested on your elbow as he once again gazes at your lips. His fingers are moving just the slightest bit, as if he wanted to caress you secretly. You laugh softly and smile, nudging him with your arm.

“Uhm”, Yoongi clears his throat, “sorry”, he says and pulls his hand away.

“It’s alright”, you assure him and flip the pages. More camping pictures. Oh you look so happy.

You sigh and knit your brows.

“We were really happy, weren’t we?”

“At that time we still were, yes.”

“Did we go on many camping trips?”

“Yes, even in our last year together. But I spent most of it on my phone.”

“I see”, you whisper, running your thumb over your smiling faces on the photographs, “I’m sad that I can’t remember those days. They seem like great memories to have.”

“They are”, Yoongi says softly and points at a picture of you next to a bonfire, “I cut that wood and you told me that you find it very hot when I use an axe.”

You laugh, “that sounds like something I would say. Axes are kind of hot.”

“And here? That was seconds before I burned my tongue on a marshmallow.”

“Aww noo that sucks.”

“It did, but you kissed it better.”

“I kissed your tongue? Eww weird.”

“Yeah it was weird, but that’s what I love about you.”

You look at each other again and this time around you feel your own eyes flitting to his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting them and making you aware that you had been staring. So you clear your throat and turn back to the album to flip the pages.

“No way! We went canoeing together?” you gasp and pout, “that’s so mean, I want to remember that.”

“You really don’t. I hurt my shoulder pretty badly that day and spent the rest of our trip in pain.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. I hope that I put pain medicine on it.”

“You did. Lots of it, with many kisses too.”

You giggle, “gosh, I’m so cheesy.”

“Yeah”, he whispers, dancing his pointer finger up and down your leg just once. You know that he did it on purpose, leaving you to shiver.

You turn your head, “hey, I’m a little cold.”

“Do you want to share?” he offers just like you had hoped he would.

“Yes please.”

Yoongi scoots closer and opens his blanket to drape it over your shoulder. Like this your legs and arms are touching.

“Is that alright?” he makes sure.

“Yes, it’s alright. Thank you, it’s so snugly”, you say and flip the page again.

“Recognize that pillow?”

“Yeah, what the hell? I have that in my sunroom!”

Yoongi chuckles deeply, “it was always your favourite pillow. You took it with you once you left, but this picture was taken minutes before you decided to have your five minutes and start a pillow fight.”

You snort, “gosh, sorry.”

“It’s alright. I won.”

“Mhm sure you did”, you tease, “you’re probably just saying this.”

“Guess we’ll never know.”

You giggle and flip the pages.

“Oh dear”, you gasp.

“Yeah uhm, crap”, Yoongi gasps and covers the pages with his hands, “I completely forgot that those are in there too. Uhm yeah, we tried erotic photography a few times?” he says and chuckles awkwardly.

“I can see that”, you say and push his fingers away to sneak a glance at one of the pictures.

You on white sheets, they are covering your lower parts and the sun paints swirls of gold over your naked breasts, “oh so artistic.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi presses out with his eyes closed.

You chuckle, “why do you have your eyes closed?”

“Because it’s rude to look.”

You giggle, pushing his hand away to flip the pages. More pictures of you and him in every sort of sexy poses and positions. You try not to look too much either because you both are wearing very little clothing in all the pictures. So you quickly flip the pages again.

“Okay it’s safe to look”, you say and exhale in relief.

Yoongi peels his eyes open, “oh that!” he exclaims and begins smiling.

You look at the pictures. You are in your pyjamas in all of them, matching each and every time. They are different sets each time, which means those were all taken on different nights. They all had one thing in common, you were in some sort of pillow fort in all of them.

“Those are pictures from our countless movie dates. You insisted that I would build a pillow fort in the living room every time.”

“I see”, you murmur and grin.

“You see those mugs?” he asks and points at them.

“Mhm-hm.”

“Warm milk with honey and cinnamon. You always called it your special sleepy time recipe.”

“Holy moly”, you gasp, touching your chest, “when I made you that drink I…I remembered that somehow?”

“I was really moved that night, you know? I thought for only a second that maybe you finally remembered me, but it seems that only your subconsciousness did.”

You turn to face him, feeling your breath hitch now that you and him are so close. You can even smell his body wash in this position and the warmth of his body and you realised that this was a scent familiar to your nose. You know now why it was so familiar and it leaves you leaning closer, until you could watch his eyes widen.

“Thank you for doing this with me. It’s nice to know that I was happy before the accident. It’s just kind of sad too because I would love to be able to remember all those times.”

“It’s…” Yoongi looks at your lips, “…nice for me too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I haven’t looked at those photos in years.”

“And yet you kept them.”

“I couldn’t throw them away.”

“Even when you started a new life.”

“Ha”, he lets out and lowers his eyes, “it’s kind of creepy isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

Your gazes meet. Yoongi’s breath hitches. You are literally mesmerised by his lips. Maybe he could do it if he leaned closer. You don’t move away, as a matter of fact, you lean closer too.

Yoongi closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side, holding his breath. 

Then you kiss and Yoongi feels like flying, sighing your name as an array of emotions makes his heart race uncontrollably.

It is nothing major, just lips on lips and a shy sound from you, but it leaves him breathless. You pull back with a giggle, nudging his nose with your own.

“I did it again”, you whisper.

“What?”

“I kissed you.”

“Yeah”, he breathes, dragging the tip of his nose up and down the slope of your nose, “I want to do it again.”

“But what about the pictures?”

Yoongi laughs breathlessly, tilting his head to the side so he could drag his nose over your cheek and leave a feather light kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Do you want to know more stories?” he asks you in a voice you have never heard from him before. It comforts you like nothing else.

You open your eyes, feeling your heart flutter at the view. He has his eyes closed, his dark lashes carry unshed tears and cheeks are flushed a deep pink.

“Later”, you breathe, letting your eyes fall closed again to chase his lips.

You both sigh once you find each other. The kiss lasts longer this time around, Yoongi even goes so far as to place his hand on your cheek. It feels big on your face, warm and soft. 

You touch his chest, fingertips resting on his collarbone. His heart is racing even faster than yours does. This moment must be so special to him. 

You break the kiss. Yoongi lets out a breathy whimper, closing his finger around a bundle of your hair. 

“Come back please”, he begs quietly, nudging your face with the tip of his nose. 

You let out a breathy chuckle, twisting his hair at the nape of his neck to pull him back into a kiss. You pull your legs up on the couch, sitting down on your heels and facing him in the process.

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut until wrinkles appear on his face. He dreamt of this moment so many times. He dreamt of talking to you and apologizing to you and maybe he also dreamt of feeling your kiss one more time. He never thought that those dreams could become reality one day. That one day you would really be back. But now you are, you are back with him again and you are even better than you were in his memories. Nothing else will ever come close to the pure happiness he is feeling right now.

He sighs softly, running his palm along the curves of your shoulder and arm. He stops at your wrist, dragging the pad of his thumb over the sensitive inside. It makes you sigh against his lips. 

Your fingers land on the zipper of his onesie, playing with it mindlessly. The kiss becomes slower, just soft sucking and biting and the addicting taste of his lips. Yoongi is touching your back, refreshing his memories of how your spine felt under his fingertips. He thinks it still feels just as addicting as it did five years ago. His touch drives you on top of his lap, you just want to be closer to him. 

"Mhm ___", he mumbles against your lips, letting out a lazy chuckle as you take his hands and tug them around your waist. He follows gladly, holding your waist safely while your weight is resting on top of him comfortably.

It feels exciting to be on his lap and to have him hold you like that while his lips dance with yours. It leaves you with an array of butterflies in your belly and tingles on the parts of your body he touches. 

You want to touch him too. His shoulders, strong and muscular from all the working he has been doing. His neck, skin oh so incredibly soft under your fingertips and for some reason he seems to let out a trembling gasp as you let your fingertips dance over it. 

The kiss breaks just enough that you can feel his breath tickle your lips. Foreheads resting together and eyes half-lidded, you touch his neck again, eliciting the softest of sounds from him.

You giggle, he does too.

"What?" his voice is raspy.

"Just, you", you answer him, pulling him back into the kiss. 

Yoongi makes a sound again, abandoning your waist to run his hands up your back instead. First your lower back, palms outline the paths of it until you are kissing him oh so deeply. Then up to your shoulders, the touch is placed with such intention and care, inch by inch he seems to feel you up. 

Your tongue darts out, shyly and hesitantly. He lets you lick over his lips once, smiling fondly before parting his lips and meeting you with his tongue. The change makes you gasp and for just a second you want to pull back, but he doesn’t let you. With his strong hands on your lower back again, he pushes you into him. Closer, tighter. No distance between your bodies as he tongue kisses you deeper and deeper, forcing you to whimper at the intensity of it.

So that’s how that feels. That’s how it feels to be so into a kiss that one's hands only purpose becomes the task of pulling the other closer. That’s how it feels to get so lost in the other that having to entangle each other’s tongues is the only bearable solution. It’s addicting. 

With an almost needy roll of your hips you seek more of him. He doesn’t even have to press you closer now, you do it all on your own. Closer and closer. Chest against chest. Stomach against stomach. Soft hair between your fingers and lips sensitive from kissing oh so deeply. It is Yoongi who whimpers this time around, having to tilt his head back in order to reach you and your magical kiss. 

You answer him, feeling up his shoulders and chest eagerly. You love how it vibrates under the sounds he makes, how his deep voice is tickling your fingertips.

Another tickle. You slow down your touch, chasing the tickle again. His zipper. Oh, how you want to tug it down.

You try it, hesitating a second later because the gesture made him gasp into your mouth. You break the kiss, looking into his hazy eyes. His lips are so swollen from kissing, looking so pink and pretty.

"Sorry", you let go, "that was creepy." 

Yoongi however grips your hand and pulls it back to the zipper. 

"Do it", he rasps, holding the zipper with you together. He tugs it down a few inches, letting out a breathy whimper while his eyes seem to practically make love to you.

Your heart is going haywire in your chest, your head is dizzy. He is so hot right now. Oh dear, his gaze is making you squirm. 

With a gulp, you take over for him, tugging down the zipper while he rests his hands on your waist to caress it softly as you undress him. 

Your heart is racing. You haven’t really imagined how Yoongi looks like naked before. As a matter of fact, you haven’t even really imagined how it would feel like to be sexual with him. You just loved to spend time with him and that was perfect for you. However, you can’t deny the feeling of utter excitement at the aspect of seeing him naked – or at least shirtless – now. 

The zipper opens all the way down to his crotch. You place your hands on his hips and run them up his torso. Yoongi's breath quickens at the sensation, back arching so he could chase your touch. You run your palms along his shoulders until you reach his collarbones, continuing your way to the slightly opened middle of the onesie. 

You take one cautious look up at his face, stomach tingling at what you see. Yoongi has his head rested against the backrest of the couch, eyes closed and features relaxed in bliss. As if he wanted to concentrate on nothing other than your touch. 

You tug on the onesie softly. 

“Oh?” you gasp, breaking into laughter a second later. 

“What?” Yoongi asks in a chuckle, peeling his eyes open to gaze at your smiling face. 

You giggle, hiding your nose behind your tiny fist. 

“Gosh Yoongi, I expected you to be naked underneath.”

Yoongi looks at his torso and the thick flannel pyjamas he is wearing.

"I was cold", he pouts cutely. 

“So you are wearing two layers?” you ask in a cute giggle. 

He laughs, feeling his cheeks heat up in giddiness. 

“I like warmth”, he murmurs.

“You’re like a cat.”

“You…”, he lowers his eyes shyly. The blush spreads over his nose, “...sometimes called me kitten because of it”, he confesses in a whisper.

“I did?” you gasp, “gosh”, you say, hiding your face behind your hands and plopping against Yoongi’s chest. 

He chuckles fondly, placing his big hand on the back of your head to pet you softly. 

“Sometimes you also called me grandpa because of the way I run”, he says. 

“That’s so mean”, you whine, nuzzling your face against his chest, “I’m sorry Yoongi.”

“I don’t think it’s mean, it’s funny”, he assures you. 

You lift your head. He seems so fond. It’s literally driving you insane. 

“But most of the time you called me dumpling baby or snuggles, sometimes darling too”, he says and shows his teeth in a fond smile. 

“Dumpling baby?” you snort. 

“Because of my cheeks.”

You groan, hiding your face behind your hands. 

“I’m so embarrassing, oh my god.”

Yoongi pulls your hands away from your face, placing them on his chest instead. He tilts his head up, placing a tender kiss on your lips. It makes your heart flutter.

“I called you beautiful and darling”, he says, studying your features with sparkling eyes, “or my love”, he breathes, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone slowly.

You are basically melting. He is so sweet. He is so goddamn sweet. 

Yoongi looks at your lips, tilting his head up again. You meet him in the middle, kissing him back. He sighs, allowing you to lead the kiss with his eyes squeezed shut and his heart fluttering in his chest. He guides your hands so your fingertips would hook in the opened zipper. It is a silent question for you to undress him and you understand, pulling the onesie over his shoulders and down his arms until it pools on the sofa by his hips. 

The kiss breaks, you broke it to catch your breath. 

“Lie down, I’ll take the onesie off”, he tells you, nudging your hips softly. 

You follow in an instant, crawling off his lap and resting back on the soft pillows. He works quickly, standing up to step out of his onesie. He finds his home on top of you after a second, resting between your legs and cupping your face in his big hands. His thumbs run along your cheekbones, lips curling into a fond smile. 

You giggle, “so you're keeping the pjs on?”

“Yeah”, he pouts, “it’s so warm and cozy.”

You chuckle, sighing a second later when Yoongi pecks your lips. You blink quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“Can I kiss your neck?” he asks in a soft voice, caressing your temple as he speaks. 

“Yes”, you breathe, waiting for the sensation with your eyes squeezed shut and your head rolled to the side. 

You always wondered how that must feel like. This is so exciting. 

The first kiss is placed softly upon your skin, leaving you to gasp for air. The second kiss is placed just next to it, Yoongi gives you the softest of sucks to end it with. The third kiss is placed just under your ear, right where your jawline melts into your neck. You shiver so much, feeling so good and lightheaded. 

Yoongi sighs your name softly, placing the fourth kiss on your jawline. He allows his teeth to drag over your skin gently, eliciting goosebumps on your arms in reaction. And while his lips worship your neck, his right hand runs along your body, starting at your thighs and ending at your shoulders. It leaves tingles behind, making you so sensitive to his touch. So sensitive and so, so nervous because as Yoongi makes the first indicator of touching you under your breast you tense up.

“Yoongi wait.”

“What is it?” he lifts his head from your neck, hair ruffled from the pillows. 

“I, I have to confess something to you.”

He nods his head and relaxes, “tell me.”

“I didn’t have sex with anyone in four years”, you blurt out and hide your face behind your hands, “urgh god I just said that out loud.”

Fingers rest themselves on your hand, tugging it away from your face. If comfort had a face it would be Yoongi in this moment, because as you open your eyes in nervousness and meet his fond gaze you don’t feel fear or embarrassment, you feel comfort. 

“It’s alright”, he whispers. 

“And I’m not on birth control, so you have to use a condom.”

“Of course, that’s alright.”

“And I also have no idea how to do sex because I have no memory of how to do it”, you say. 

He cups your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. 

“That’s alright too.”

“A-and also I have scars”, you say and lower your eyes, “many, they are sorta big.” 

“Doesn’t matter, you are so beautiful with or without the scars.”

You feel so freaking comforted. God damn you are repeating yourself, but Yoongi just....radiates judgement free and honest comfort.

“Okay, okay”, you let out a deep breath, locking eyes with him, “sorry, I just needed to get all of this off my chest.”

He smiles softly, “it’s alright. You know that we can take it slow? We can do whatever you are comfortable with.”

“Really?” 

“Yes really. We’ll take it at your pace, alright?” 

“Yes, alright.”

Yoongi smiles, kissing your forehead softly. It makes your eyelids flutter shut and your heart skip a beat in your chest. 

“So what should we do? Should I show you more pictures?” 

You shake your head. 

“Then more stories? I could tell you about our honeymoon, it was a blast. That was the time we ate watermelon for breakfast and also realised that we are both good surfers.”

You smile, cupping his face in your hands. Yoongi parts his lips and gazes down at you with widened eyes. 

“I want to try.”

“What? Surfing?” 

“No”, you laugh, “gosh no, not surfing. I kind of want to try...sex?” 

His eyes soften, yet deep down arousal glistens in them. 

“Right now?” 

“Yes, right now.”

“With m-me?”

“No Yoongi, with the old Misses Jang from up the road”, you say sarcastically. 

Yoongi blushes furiously, hiding his face in your shoulder with an embarrassed groan. You laugh and giggle, giving his head a soft pat. 

“Don’t laugh at me. I’m nervous too”, he whines. 

“Don’t be nervous, it’s just me.”

“Yeah exactly”, he lifts his head, somehow his bangs are even messier than before, “I want to make a good first impression.”

“What should I say? At least you know what I like, I have no idea.”

Yoongi chuckles and lowers his eyes, “I guess you’re right”, he murmurs, “but still, maybe something changed and I just, I like you so much, I don’t wanna mess up and disappoint”, he says and pouts. 

“Well then let’s figure out our bodies together”, you touch his chest, eliciting a breathy gasp from him. You run your hand to his side and place your nails against it. You dance them down softly then you go up again. Yoongi’s eyes threaten to close, hips rolling against yours on instinct. The sensation feels really good. He is hard in his pants, grinding the hardness up and down your core. It feels so nice and also hot. 

“God ___ that’s so good”, he whispers shakily.

“Are your sides sensitive?” 

He nods his head, melting closer. He begins kissing your neck again, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You let your eyes fall closed and bask in the sensation as your hands explore his torso.  

His tummy is soft, it tenses when you run your fingers over it. Relaxing in a trembling breath a second later. You can feel it tickle your skin, it is warm if not hot even. 

"___", he whispers, biting down on your earlobe softly. 

"Oh? Oh okay", you laugh softly, "that’s good." 

Yoongi purrs, dragging his lips over the shell of your ear. 

"Your touch is so nice. Can’t get enough of it”, he whispers in that honey voice of his’. 

He bites your earlobe gently, tugging on it just slightly. Like a chain reaction of sensations your shivers run all the way from your ear down to the tips of your toes. 

"Yoongi I want to be shirtless", you confess in a breathless moan. 

Yoongi’s head shoots up. 

"Are you sure?" 

You nod your head, reaching down to tug your sweater and shirt up. Yoongi watches it happen, breath hitching in his throat at the sight. You grunt quietly, fighting with the last few inches until finally they slip off your hair and arms. You open your eyes, meeting adoration in his gaze. 

"You're so beautiful", he whispers, "fuck ___, I never want to stop looking at you." 

You giggle, covering your chest with your hands. 

"Okay now my bravery is kinda running out, help I acted way too quickly." 

Yoongi chuckles. He sits up for a moment to take off his shirt, revealing yet another shirt to your eyes. A white t-shirt, loose fitted and slightly wrinkled. 

"Yoongi", you wheeze, “you’re not serious. How many layers are you wearing?” 

"I was cold", he whines with a pout and soon his face disappears under the shirt as he takes it off.  

He slips out of it with a grunt, blinking quickly with his hair standing up in the front. You giggle. He is so cute. 

“Sad, I expected another shirt”, you joke. 

Yoongi fixes his hair and shivers. Goosebumps cover his fair skin in an instant.

"So cold", he whines, reaching for the blanket to pull it over his shoulders. Then he cuddles back into you, sharing his warmth with you. 

"God Yoongi", you chuckle, "you're so dramatic, it's not even that cold." 

"Yes it is. It’s freezing", he murmurs, nuzzling his cheek against your chest. 

"Alright, alright it's cold", you give in with a fond roll of your eyes. 

"Mhm", he lets out, turning his head so he could begin kissing your chest all over. 

"Oh wow", you groan, head rolling to the side and veins tingling in electricity. 

Yoongi was right. The blanket was a good idea. Oh you are so warm all snuggled into it and somehow it makes the sensations of his mouth even more intense. He kisses you, he kisses even the long scar under your breast where the doctors needed to go inside to fix your ribs. And he kisses it without mentioning it in any kind of way, as if it was just another part of your body which he wanted to worship. You don’t tell him, but you appreciate his silence so much. 

Perhaps a reason for you not sleeping with anyone in the past four years – ignoring the fact that you weren’t actively seeking it in the first place – was the fact that some part of your brain was still too ashamed of your scars. You feared that if you bared yourself to someone and they would see your scars, you would have to explain yourself. And you really didn’t want to do that. 

But Yoongi stays silent, placing featherlight kisses all over your scar before he moves on to another part of your chest like it was the most normal thing to do. You feel so appreciated. And so, so nice. 

Yoongi sucks on the swell of your breast before lifting his head for the sole purpose of giving you a sweet gummy smile. You retort it, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. Then he lowers himself again, kissing a path up to your nipple. He hesitates, brushing his lips over it in an attempt to see your reaction. 

You tense up in anticipation, arching into him. 

That is all he needed to know. He parts his lips and wraps them around your nipple, caressing your other side with his big hand. 

You let out a breathy laugh, ending it with a surprised moan and an arch of your back. 

“Okay that’s - ha - that’s really nice.”

“Yeah?” his warm breath swirls over your skin, making you shiver. He hums and abandons your nipple for the sake of kissing the other. Not that he truly abandons it, the moment his lips take on their sweet journey to your other side his hand begins touching you skillfully. 

“Mhhhm”, you purr contently, letting your head roll to the side. He makes you feel so warm between your legs. Oh, it’s so embarrassing because you can feel it stick to your pyjama pants as well. Hopefully it doesn’t soak his couch, gosh that would be devastating. Oh! Forget every worry you ever had, Yoongi using his teeth to bite down on your nipple gently is the only thing important. Or maybe it’s his right hand slowly but surely dancing down your stomach to the hem of your pants. You giggle nervously, making Yoongi raise his head. 

“No?” he asks, pulling his hand away. 

“I’m nervous.”

He nods in understanding, caressing your side for now. 

“What do you want to do?” 

You gnaw on your lower lip. 

“Just tell me beautiful and I’ll do it”, he encourages you in a soft spoken voice, the kind which fills you with so much comfort that it’s almost unbearable. 

“God Yoongi you-", you pause to cup his cheeks and squish them, “-stop being so sweet”, you say, squishing his cheeks more aggressively. 

His pink lips stick out in a squished pout, his eyes become little slits as you squeeze his cheeks together. He chuckles deeply. 

“Can I have my face back?” he asks fondly. 

“Yeah, uhm”, you pull your hands back, “sorry, I just – I don’t know – I wanna keep touching it because I like it so much.”

He lowers his eyes shyly and blushes.

“Stop”, he murmurs.

“Why?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “just so.”

“Mhm, that’s not a reason”, you giggle, reaching out to stroke your palm over his cheek again and again, “I want to try it.”

“Tell me”, he says, nodding his head.

“Your hand”, you reach for it, “I want you to touch me down there”, you say and guide it down your stomach. Yoongi keeps his fingers relaxed so they would leave the softest of tickles behind. 

He smiles and nods his head in understanding, caressing your lower stomach.

“Scoot over a little.”

You do as you are told, watching him with curiosity as he wiggles into the spot between you and the backrest of the couch. He sneaks one of his arms under your head, engulfing you in the safety of his chest. This is so close and intimate with both of you being shirtless that you feel your cheeks heat up. Skin against skin, not knowing which warmth belongs to you and which belongs to Yoongi. You truly never imagined how such sensations must feel like with him and yet they leave you so tingly and happy that it feels as if a wish was fullfilled.

“Are you comfortable?” he makes sure.

“Yeah very”, you whisper in awe, “the blanket was a good idea, it’s so snuggly.”

“Right? I told you it’s a good idea, but you wanted to nag”, he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair to kiss your ear softly.

You giggle, hiding your face in his chest. The bickering is cute, like a married couple and that is what you were. You were married and perhaps that is why you felt so comfortable with him. Because deep down you already knew that he was your other half. 

You begin placing little kisses all over his skin at the aspect, feeling his blissful purr.

“Keep doing that beautiful”, he encourages you in a sigh, travelling his hand up and down your stomach and sides. 

And so you continue, littering his chest with kisses and touching whatever parts of his sides you can reach. Yoongi sneaks his hand inside your pants, running his fingers down to your middle slowly. You part your legs for him, waiting for the sensation with bated breath.

He touches your entrance first, rolling slow circles on it to pick up your arousal.

“Oh? Okay”, you gasp, lifting your head to look into Yoongi’s eyes.

He gazes down at you and smiles, dancing his fingers up your core. One touch to your clit and you are squirming.

“Oh? Okay yeah okay”, you press out, widening your eyes.

“Is it nice?”

You nod your head vigorously, watching how it makes his pupils dilate.

“Good, relax beautiful, I’ll take care of you”, he rasps, closing his eyes and kissing your forehead.

You relax in his arms, basking in the sensations and feeling your head become dizzy at his scent. Now, you did touch yourself in the comfort of your own bedroom. You touched yourself many times actually and you like to claim that you are very good at it. But god diddly damn, it’s so different if someone else does it. The touch is laced with the exciting surprise of you not knowing where he will place it next. It leaves you shivering in the best ways possible.

“That feels really good”, you sigh and moan softly.

“Mhm, it feels good for me too. You’re so wet and soft”, he whispers, drawing figures of eight with his fingers.

“Yoongi can I touch you too?”

He groans quietly. Your words affected him, you know that they did because his fingers speed up on your clit.

“Y-yes”, he presses out, panting heavily in anticipation.

“Okay, here I come. Just tell me what to do”, you say, dancing your hand down his stomach until it disappears inside his pyjama pants.

He is so excited that he basically twitches into your hand, mewling softly when you wrap your fingers around him.

“Fuck ___”, he chokes out, bucking his hips up, “you’re so good.”

“But I haven’t even started.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You giggle and moan. Yoongi is toying with your entrance, the aspect of having his long fingers inside of you almost drives you insane.

“Can I finger you?” he asks in a rasp.

“Please”, you whisper, moving your hand up and down his length slowly.

Yoongi whimpers and slips two of his fingers inside of you. You keen and roll your hips into his touch, squeezing his cock on accident because the breach surprised you so much. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, it was just surprising because it felt so good. Fingering yourself is definitely not the same as getting fingered, because holy moly damn that feels amazing. Especially with the length of his fingers and the perfect girth of them. Yoongi also seems to have the perfect technique of rubbing his palm over your clit as he moves his fingers.

“Yoongi it’s so good”, you moan, resorting to squeaking softly afterwards.

“Yeah? Keep going too beautiful, your touch is perfect”, he encourages you, voice raspy and strained.

He is probably overhyping your touches. He is distracting you so much with his own touches that sometimes you forget to move your hand. Yoongi makes up for the loss of friction by rolling his hips into your hand slowly until you finally remember again that you needed to move as well and you begin jerking him off with a certain vigour in your touches. Yoongi moans deeply each time this happens, rewarding you with a mindnumbing curl of his fingers against your sensitive spot inside.

“Yoongi….”

“Mhm?”

You tilt your head up, chasing his lips. He understands wordlessly, leaning down to kiss you deeply. Oh his touch becomes so much better now that you are kissing him, making your toes curl and your limbs feel as if they were on fire. You hope that you feel better for him too, making sure to pay special attention to his tip.

Yoongi lets you know that you feel a thousand times better by moaning against your lips and darting his tongue out to chase your own. His fingers curl inside of you, your fingers squeeze around his hot tip and your tongues dance with each other sloppily. It quite frankly steals your sanity from you.

The blanket is becoming very hot on top of you, so hot that sweat pearls on your chest and tickles your skin as it runs down your sides. Yoongi seems to be hot as well, his skin is just that little bit damper as it presses against your own and his once ruffled bangs are matted. They are still messy though, he looks so good like that. It almost knocks the air out of you when you pull back for a quick breather and your eyes land on his handsome face. His dark eyes are even darker than usual, almost as if his pupils are so dilated that they are swallowing everything else. His nose is glowing prettily, carrying a rosy sheen to it. As do his cheeks and his swollen lips.

“You’re so pretty”, you whisper.

“Thanks”, he murmurs shyly, blushing even more.

You giggle and squeeze his tip, watching how it makes his brows knit in pleasure.

“Fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum”, he groans.

That does something inside of you. Your stomach tingles uncontrollably, your walls clench around his digits. You want this to happen. You want to see him lose himself. He would probably look so hot.

“Do it”, you rasp.

“Mhm, not yet”, he murmurs, claiming your lips in a passionate kiss. The kind that steals your breath away.

He keeps his fingers curled, moving them the slightest bit back and forth. You squeak, fighting for your air. It seems that Yoongi wants to see you lose yourself before he does. He is doing an amazing job at that, your stomach is tensing so much.

He breaks the kiss, panting against your lips.

“Are you close?” he asks.

“Yeah”, you squeak, legs shaking uncontrollably. There is too much pressure on your clit, his palm is too soft and warm. His fingers are too good, too long and skilled. He is actually going to make you cum.

“Whenever you are ready, beautiful”, he encourages you.

You gasp for air repeatedly, squeezing around his cock for the sole purpose of holding something. Not sexy if it wasn’t for Yoongi rutting into you desperately. He watches your eyelids flutter, feeling your walls clench around his digits.

“Come kiss me, let me taste your moans”, he rasps, making your legs shake with the way his fingers curl.

“Yoongi”, you choke out and stumble into the kiss.

It is sloppy, Yoongi gets more of your licks than actual kisses. He accepts them happily, swallowing your every moan as he curls his fingers against your magical spot once again. You squeak and shutter, everything gets too much for you. 

“Yoongi.”

“Let go", he encourages you. 

You break around his digits, hiding your face in his chest as your body spasms in fiery electricity.

“Oh god, what the hell”, you groan, shocked by how hard you are climaxing. It sits so deep, feels so hot, makes your stomach tense so much. This is the best. The literal best.

“That’s it, shit you’re so sexy”, he encourages you, helping you ride out your high with skilful movements of his hand.

You whimper, twitching one last time before finally opening your eyes again. Yoongi looks fucked, with his eyes blown out and his cheeks heated. Also his breathing is ragged, heart pounding against his ribcage.

“How was that?” he asks you, pulling his fingers free to caress your thigh.

You giggle, stomach bursting in feel good hormones. Yoongi smiles, placing a soft kiss on your ear.

“Good?” 

“Yes, so good”, you whisper and place a kiss on his chest. It makes it rumble in one of his deep moans. 

So you lift your head and look at him. He is breathing even heavier than he did before, squirming softly.

“What?” he asks you because the sudden smirk you are sporting confuses him.

You sit up and try to roll you and him over, doing so a lot more clumsily than you had wished for. He collides with the couch in a deep grunt. His head tangles over the edge, messy hair almost touching the floor.

“Oh shoot, sorry”, you gasp, “I wanted to be sexy.”

“Fuck”, Yoongi laughs raspily, “mission accomplished, fuck.”

You tingle in pride. He seems very into it, judging by the red spots covering his chest and his neck carrying a sheer layer of sweat. He rests his hands on his stomach, long fingers still glistening in your juices.

“You’re really hot”, you tell him. 

“You too”, he rasps, swallowing heavily. His fingers run over his own stomach mindlessly. The view taunts you. Especially because it leads to the very prominent dent in his pants. You don’t really have the desire to see dicks, because they aren’t really exciting to you, but it feels different with him. You really want to see him. So much so that you are almost going crazy at not being able to see him. 

You hook your fingers in the hem of his pants and pull it down far enough to make his cock spring free. 

“Huh?” his head shoots up, lips parting in shock.

It is just as pretty as the rest of him, his tip is glistening with his arousal. Also it matches with his hands, oh so many veins. Very sexy. You think that his dick is very exciting to look at.

You give him a playful smirk, wrapping your fingers around his length to jerk it off quickly. 

“Fuck”, he moans, dropping his head back and fucking his hips into your hand, “holy f-fuck.” 

Maybe it is muscle memory but somehow your fingers know exactly where to touch him. You also think that he has such a nice cock. A very nice cock. Very reactive and so pink, just like his lips. Said lips are currently parted widely, letting the most sinful of noises free. Deep grunts, breathy gasps, high-pitched whimpers. For someone who has such a deep voice he has an impressive range if only you touch the right spots.

You roll your thumb over his frenulum, twisting your wrist afterwards.

“How's that?” you ask him, repeating your movements. 

“Good”, he lulls, bucking his hips up. He wraps his long fingers around your wrist and squeezes softly. 

His body trembles, his cock throbs. You dance your fingers up to his tip again and massage it quickly. 

Yoongi twitches with his entire body before a guttural moans rolls off his tongue aggressively. Your eyes flit to his face, fingers working on their own. You find it peculiar just how sexy he can actually be. How your cute and sweet neighbour looks like sex personified now that you have him shaking under your touch. His lids are opened halfway, giving view to his rolled back eyes. His lips are parted and swollen, glistening in his saliva. And his neck is shimmering in a sheer layer of sweat, muscles flexed in the position. 

One roll of your thumb over his slit and he is twitching again. 

“I’m cumming”, he chokes out, letting go of your wrist to grasp the edge of the sofa instead.

“Do it”, you encourage him, welcoming his high with quick jerks of your hand.

Yoongi groans and spasms, covering his tensed stomach in his seed. It runs down his length, collecting all between your fingers as well. This is so hot, this is so hot. Oh you want to continue. This is so hot.

“Wait, wait”, Yoongi laughs panicky, trembling fingers reaching for your hand, “slow.”

You don’t listen, jerking him off with madness in your eyes. He mewls and squirms, trying his hardest to pull your hand away. 

“Please ___", he begs, gasping for air. 

Faster. His cock is so hard and twitches so much. There must be more for you. He must have more to offer. 

Yoongi laughs panicky, twisting the sofa pillow. 

“Please slow”, he begs squeakily, “mercy please”, he is laughing by now, tugging on your wrist again, "fuck ___ please", he presses out, writhing desperately. He is twitching with his entire body, forcing cut off laughs and gasps out of him. 

His other hand reaches for you, gripping you with such strength it surprises you. 

"Slow", he drags the word out, squeezing you with trembling fingers.

It is enough to clear your mind from the hungry madness you are feeling. You slow down your movements, blinking quickly. He guides your movements, smooth rolls up and down his cock.

“That’s better, it’s too sensitive otherwise”, he says and sighs, “god beautiful, you just made me cum so hard”, he says and laughs, covering his eyes with his arm, “fuck.”

You touch his tip and squeeze gently. He hisses, twitching away.

“___”, he complains in a laugh, lifting himself with the help of his abs, “I’m sensitive.”

You pull your hand away, “sorry, it’s just so much fun to touch you.”

“Mhm”, he hums, drawing closer to cup your cheek and kiss your lips softly, “you’re still as cruel as you were in the past.” 

“Yeah? Did I do that often?” you ask him, wrapping your fingers around his cock again to give him quick jerks. 

Yoongi whimpers, twisting your hair at the nape of your neck, “please no more.” 

You twist your hand on his overly sensitive tip, forcing a moaned laugh out of him.

“___ baby", he chokes out, taking a hold of your torturing hand to squeeze it. 

You giggle, burying your nose in the crook of his neck. You push him back on the sofa, pulling the blanket over your bodies and snuggling into him tightly. Yoongi just let’s it happen, melting like ice cream in the sun. 

“That was lots of fun", you say and giggle, touching his inner thighs for now.

“Agreed, I love being with you. I really missed it.”

You smile, trailing kisses up and down his neck.

Yoongi shudders and pulls you closer, inhaling your scent.

“Fuck ___ I actually missed you so fucking much. Those last few months without you were horrible”, he murmurs into the crook of your neck, hugging you to his body and rolling over on the sofa with you so he could cuddle you tightly.

“Agreed. I was so lonely on most days.”

"Same, especially on Tuesday." 

"Yes", you agree, nodding your head vigorously, "you have to come by again from now on. I'll make you so much tea and you can eat your egg sandwich and we have tangerine tarts on our menu these days. You have to come eat them."

"I will. Tangerine tart sounds amazing, I can’t wait to try it." 

"Yes, me too."

You kiss his hair and close your eyes. It is so warm and cuddly now that your blanket is wrapped around you so snugly and Yoongi holds you so tightly.

Yoongi exhales his breath shakily and squeezes you softly. He is in heaven. This is paradise.

“Yoongi?”

“Mhm?”

"I'm glad I had you as a husband. If you were as sweet as you are ever since I met you then I was a very lucky woman. It’s so nice to know that I had you in my past." 

Yoongi squeezes your middle and squeaks.

“Don’t say that”, he murmurs, clearly fighting with his tears.

“It’s the truth, you’re such a sweet man and you bring so much comfort into my life. Falling in love with you was so easy and felt so comfortable.”

“Stop that.”

You laugh, squeezing him.

“You’re so cute.”

Yoongi lifts his head to gaze at you. His beautiful eyes are filled with unshed tears and yet they are sparkling in unconditional love for you.

“Thank you for giving me a second chance”, he whispers.

You smile.

“I’d do it again."​​

[duggardata]

Jinger's New Book is About Her Journey Leaving The Cult (IBLP, etc.)

Today (November 7, 2022), Jinger (Duggar) Vuolo took to YouTube to officially announce her new book, "Becoming Free Indeed." She says the book is about "[her] journey disentangling faith from fear"—and it sounds pretty damn groundbreaking for a Duggar. (Yay, Jinger!)

Here's a full transcript, typed up by Duggar Data—

"This has been the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I think it's the most important. I've written a book. It is called "Becoming Free Indeed," and it is my story—my journey of disentangling faith from fear.

I first had the idea to write this book back in 2017. Jeremy and I had just attended a conference in Big Sandy, Texas for an organization called Institute In Basic Life Principles. While there, I saw dozens of people I'd grown up with—friends who, like me, had come to Big Sandy every year to sit under the teachings from a man named Bill Gothard. But, for every old friend that I saw that week, there was one or two that I expected to see that wouldn't show up. In the coming months and years, I'd start to hear stories of those friends, and I'd find out that some of them no longer wanted anything to do with Christ or Christianity. They had rejected everything they'd been taught about God, the Bible, and the Christian faith. And, while that's not my story—I'm a Christian that loves Jesus, and wants to follow him—I have, like those friends, rejected much of the teaching I heard for many years. My faith is still intact, but it has changed. Instead of leaving the faith entirely, I've been disentangling it.

My new book, "Becoming Free Indeed," is that journey—my journey of discovery, of disentangling, my journey of faith. In it, I share stories from my life. Stories that nobody saw while the TV cameras were rolling. Stories of fear and uncertainty, but also of discovery and hope. I share these stories became I want to be an encouragement to any of you, who may be struggling to work through what you've been taught while still loving Jesus. Really, I wrote this book for any of you who are wanting to honestly examine your beliefs without abandoning God. If you've been hurt by the teachings of Bill Gothard, or any religious leader who claimed to speak for God but didn't, I wrote this for you.

When you grow up in a tight–knit community, where everyone believes the same things about everything, it can be hard to even consider the possibility that what you were taught may have been wrong. But, we all need to, even if it's hard. I wish that the teachers you leaned on when you were younger pointed you to Jesus. But, I know that's not always the case, and so I'm hopeful that my story can encourage you not to give up on God, to not abandon Jesus.

I know that many of you do not believe the same things that I do about God and the Bible. But, this book is an invitation into my life, so that you can see through the highs and lows, through the good and the difficult, and through the changes in what I believe and how I live. Jesus is my strength. He is worthy. I pray this book will help you to see why I follow him.

While this is not the first book I've written, it has been, by far, the most challenging. The process has been more emotionally exhausting than I thought it would be, and it's been tough because it's so personal. And, at times, I've wondered if I should even write it. But, I know it's necessary, and I'm thankful God has given me the strength to finish it.

I want you to know at the start of this book that it is not a tell–all about my family. This is a book about me, and my spiritual journey. It is the story of my faith, and how I've had to figure out what I believe and why I believe it. This is my personal theological memoir. Thanks for joining me as I tell my story."