#we could always just continue along the series in the future if it's easier ?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 2

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Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Idk why but I'm so over dealing with people!

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You swipe away another phone call. You have at least a dozen missed. Let them buzz in your pocket for another few hours. You try not to think about it as you turn your attention back to the plot before you, the tight foot by foot square, and continue to gently sift through the dirt. You stop only to make notes on the map and examine the odd bit of animal bones you find. 

Bzzzzzz. The constant vibration in your pants makes you anxious. You should put it to silent but keep forgetting. Whatever. You’re busy. Whoever it is will have to wait. You know who it is. He’s been calling for days. You’ve been ignoring him just as long. 

You should pick up. You should be there for him. You should be happy for him but your heart feels rotten. Years of pining and you can’t pretend any longer. Not after the party. Not after seeing him on his knee for another woman. That’s it. That’s the seal on the envelope. The dream is crumpled up and in the bin. 

He didn’t even notice that you left early. You don’t think anyone did. You spent all those weeks planning and fretting and laying awake at night and for what? To pretend that it could ever be all for you?  

You sigh and sit back on your heel, one leg bent under you as you rest your arm on your other knee. You blow an insect away from your face and push your hat back. The sun beats down, offering great light for the excavation but less than ideal temperature. 

“Eh, there you are,” Arturo waltzes up in his round tinted spectacles, “find anything good?” 

“Nah,” you shake your head and shrug. 

“You know where you’d find something amazing? Norway,” he smirks, hands on his hips. “So... you thought about it?” 

“Mm, yeah, been thinking,” you utter dully as you look up at him from under the brim of your hat. “When do you need a decision?” 

“The sooner the better. The grant proposal is all but approved, we just need a name on that blank line,” he says, “this could be really good for you. No, I know it will be good.” 

“Right,” you nod and stand up, dusting off your tan pants, “I know you said you weren’t sure but any idea how long? I’d have to worry about my apartment and telling my family...” 

“A year. That’s about right,” he proclaims, “could be longer but I’d plan for that.” 

“A year?” You wisp as your chest deflates. You put your hand on your pocket as your phone buzzes again. “Wow.” 

“You really want to spend another year in the city sweating for crow bones?” He asks. “Not trying to push you but these opportunities don’t come along often.” 

“Norway,” you suck your teeth and angle your chin as you think, “viking stuff?” 

“Possibly, could be an early Christian settlement too. How about I send you the proposal and you give it a look?” 

“Sure, I... I guess I should.” 

“It’ll all be taken care of; accommodation, travel, stipend,” he lists off with his fingers. “I know it’s not Ireland like you wanted.” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure him, “I’ll keep thinking.” 

He winks and grins triumphantly, “tomorrow. I need to know tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” You echo back in a hollow murmur. 

He’s already walking away. Your phone starts to shake again and you growl. You shove your hand in your pocket and rip it out. Your gloves smear dirt on the screen as you press the red button. You pause before you can drag your thumb over. You inhale and push your finger the other direction. 

“Bucky,” you answer in confusion. He wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t an emergency. 

“Ah, there you are kid,” Steve’s voice comes in place of the expected timbre. You hiss. “You avoiding me or something?” 

“Uh, no,” you reply thinly, “I’m working,” you rub the back of your neck with your other hand, “it’s been busy and I’m sure you’ve been running all around with... everything.” 

You can’t bring yourself to say it. Wedding. Ugh. He’s getting married... to her. 

“Well, Peggy’s doing most of the planning, really. I don’t know,” he chuckles crisply, “you know, more a lady’s thing. She’s already knee-deep in the engagement party. Maybe you could give her a few pointers.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” you grumble as you bring your hand forward to rub your thumb with your index, scratching away more of the dust. 

“I didn’t get to say thank you. Again. That party was amazing. It was perfect, kid.” 

“Steve, we’re the same age,” you gripe at his pet name. 

“Yeah, but you hate it so much,” he teases. 

You can’t smile. Even as your cheeks pinch, you can only grimace. You drop your arm and close your eyes as you push your head back. 

“She loved it. I did too. We’re so happy and you made that happen--” 

“Steve, why are you calling? I’m buried right now,” you huff. 

“You are? I thought you’re supposed to dig stuff up--” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Well, you missed Opening Day so I thought maybe you’d wanna come watch the game. Sam’s doing his famous nachos and Bucky is... coming.” 

You hear the very man mutter in the background. Great, you even have an audience. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had you on speaker. Why would anything between you ever be intimate? 

“Tonight?” You wonder, “you sure you’re available?” 

“Me, I should be asking you,” he scoffs, “come on, how long’s it been since we’ve been apart a whole week?” 

“Work...” 

“Can you dig in the dark?” He challenges. 

“Steve,” you sniff, “I’m tired...” you feel your heart sinking. You feel bad. You never say no to Steve. It’s not easy. You tried but he’s right. You can’t remember the last time you didn’t see him at least every other day. “Fine, twist my arm.” 

“Good,” he chirps victoriously. “I wasn’t looking forward to driving up there and digging you out. So, seven?” 

“Seven, right,” you agree. “See ya then.” 

“Don’t make me come find ya, kid.” 

You hang up and cringe. You don’t even like baseball. It was just another personality trait you took on hoping to be close to Steve, hoping he might realise you’re destined to be together. Well, that’s not true. You’re just stupid. It took you too long to grow out of being that stupid college girl fawning over the blond hunk in his coed sweater. 

Still stupid, still alone. 

💟

You never show up empty-handed. Even when you were a poor sophomore. So it is that you delay the inevitable by stopping at your favourite local bakery. They’re closing and you get the eclairs for a discount as they’ll be on the day-old shelf in the morning.  

The owner, Marigold, knows you and puts in an extra one. You leave a tip as you listen eagerly to her rambling story about her granddaughter’s first soccer practice. Usually, you would be checking the time but today, you got more than enough. Finally, she sends you off as she turns off the sign. 

Fine, you’ll go. 

You find a visitor’s spot behind Steve’s building and linger in the car. You eat the extra eclair to keep from crying. Sugar is good for clogging up your tear ducts. You wipe your mouth and make yourself get out of the car. 

As you wait in the lobby for the buzzer to pick up, your insides squirm. You’re not ready for this. You’re not ready to face the truth you’ve been running from. The one you know you can’t deny any longer. 

“Hey kid,” Steve unlocks the door without awaiting a response. It’s typical; you have your patterns. Those little rituals are all going to end. 

You go through to the elevators and contemplate taking the stairs as you wait. The doors open and you step on, facing your reflection in the mirror doors. Your pants are still filthy from working in the dirt, your shirt is stained with your sweat, but at least you remembered to change your shoes. The elevator dings and you nearly let the doors close again before you can find your strength. 

You walk down the hallway and knock. You can hear their voices through the door. Steve opens it from within and gives you a strange look. 

“What’re you knocking for? You know you can come right in.” 

“Yeah, sorry, tired, long day,” you babble out the lazy excuses. “Here.” 

“Oh, nice,” he takes the box of eclairs, “you weren’t lying. You look exhausted.” 

“Ah, you really know how to talk up a woman,” Sam interjects as he appears in the doorway further down the entryway, “it’s a wonder Peggy said yes.” 

“Shut up,” Steve throws back as he turns to head back to the kitchen. 

You take your time in pulling off your shoes and sense Sam lingering, watching as you meander. You clear your throat as you stand and head down the hall. He nudges you as you step into the doorway next to him. 

“Where ya been?” He asks, “these jackasses have been driving me nuts.” 

“Work,” you repeat again, “lots going on.” 

“Right, yeah, now that you’re not spending all your time planning someone else’s girlfriend’s birthday.” 

You give him a sharp look and he shows his palms. You shake your head. He’s right. You wasted all that time. You’ve wasted years. All for nothing. 

“Fiancee, now, I guess,” he adds. 

“Yeah, the happy couple,” you snip and step into the room, “so we watching the game or are we giving him another pat on the back.” 

“What? You’re not excited? You’ll get to be a bridesmaid or whatever. Since I’m best man, I’ll be sure to save you a dance,” Sam chuckles. 

“You? Best man?” Bucky sneers from the couch where he slouches and flicks through a motorcycle magazine, “don’t think so, bud.” 

“Oh, you don’t think I’m better than you?” Sam challenges. “Let’s race for it.” 

“You cheat,” Bucky growls. 

“No, I have strategy,” Sam counters. 

You roll your eyes. Wedding talk, already. The exact thing you can’t handle right now.  Bucky sits up to glare at Sam as he closes the glossy pages. You let them argue and posture at each other. 

You leave the room and let yourself onto the balcony. The fresh air is chilling. You shiver as you step up to the railing and look across the city. You take in the skyline, each window, each peak, each speck of a car on the streets below. It feels so grey. Like it’s the last time you’ll be standing here looking over it all. 

Maybe it is. 

💟

You sip from the bottle of beer as Sam nearly drops his nachos off his lap in excitement. He hollers at the screen as Bucky gives him a look. Steve shakes a fist at the second base run. You’re happy enough to tamp down the heat of the peppers with the wheaty ale.  

Sam rights himself beside you as Steve reaches forward to set down his plate. He grabs the square of paper towel folded on the coffee table and wipes his lips. He sits back and slings his elbow over the armrest as the next batter takes his place. 

“So, how do you guys feel about a destination wedding?” Steve asks. 

You clamp your lips tight and scoop up more fixings with a chip. Sam swallows loudly as Bucky shrugs. No one says a word. 

“Peggy asked earlier. I wanted to do it at a cathedral here. Just how I always pictured it,” Steve says. 

Yeah, that sounds like him. He likes old-fashioned and elegant. Everything Peggy is and you’re not. Makes you wonder why she wouldn’t want the same venue. 

“Back home?” Sam wonders. 

“England? No. I suggested that and she was not into it.” 

“Somewhere tropical?” Sam prompts again. He’s at least trying. You’re too sick to open your mouth. 

“Sure, that’s what I was hoping,” he smiles, “especially if it’s a winter wedding. The date... yeah, that’s a big deal too. You know, I thought the ring was a pain.” 

You keep your head down, hoping the pain doesn’t show. Not only did he propose to her, he kept it from you. You’re best friends and you had no idea. How much had you been through with him? He had you plan that whole party but he couldn’t tell you that?  

No, no, you’re being dramatic. You’re friends. He doesn’t owe you that. It’s between him and Peggy. His future... wife. Ugh. You can’t even imagine that happening. You try and try but you just can’t stomach the image. Peggy in white, Steve in his tux, and you just standing, watching. 

“I can’t come,” you blurt out abruptly. 

“Huh?” Steve blinks and flinches as if he’s been slapped. 

Sam angles beside you to squint at you and Bucky’s brows pop up. Another silence, this one deadly. You’re suffocating as you search for words. 

“I won’t be here.” 

“Well, yeah, like I said, it’s gonna be somewhere else. You don’t even know when it is,” Steve blusters as his face creases in disappointment. 

“I’m going to Norway,” you blather and nearly choke at the realisation of what you said. 

“Norway?” Sam repeats hollowly. 

“Yeah, uh, work... offered me a grant contract and I’ll be going to Norway. For at least a year. So... yeah.” 

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Steve blinks rapidly, “how-- when were you going to tell me?” 

“I’m telling you now,” you push your shoulders up, “I just found out.” 

“You can’t...” Steve begins. 

“That’s awesome,” Sam speaks over him, “hey,” he nudges you, “that is so fucking cool. Norway. Vikings and shit.” 

Bucky nods and gives a thoughtful look, “rains a lot.” 

“So I’ve heard,” you utter dumbly, not sure how to respond. “I got a lot to do before then so I might be a bit absent.” 

“Don’t even worry about us,” Sam insists, “you need any help at all...” 

Steve stands up suddenly and slams his bottle down. Before you can speak, he twists on his heels and storms across the apartment. You stare after him as he disappears into the next room and you hear the balcony door slide back then snap shut just as quickly.  

You grip the beer bottle tight and look down. You didn’t think he’d be mad. You’ll be out of the way. He can get married and be happy. 

“What a baby,” Bucky grumbles, “can’t be happy for anyone but himself.” 

“Well, you are his best pal,” Sam snipes, “birds of a feather.” 

“So that means I’m best man,” Bucky intones mischievously. 

“No, it’s not best buddy, it’s best man--” 

They continue their banter and you get up. You put down your chips and beer and leave without notice from the bickering couple. You near the balcony and look through to Steve as he leans on the rail, his head down. Gently, you slide the door open and step out. 

Only the wind blows as you come closer to the railing. He roils in the cool evening air. You take a breath as you come up next to him. 

“Sorry, it’s... a good opportunity.” 

“No...” he drones, “I’m happy for you. I just... I can’t imagine my wedding without you. Or my life.” He lifts his head to look at you. “What am I going to do? You’re supposed to tell me what bowtie to wear and how to do my hair.” 

“Peggy can do all that,” you cross your arms, “Steve, I can’t pass this up. If I stay in the city...” you let your voice trail off into the wind. If you stay, you’ll have to watch his happily ever after while yours never comes. “I’ll never do anything.” 

“I know,” he dips his head again, “I’m proud of you. Really. But I’m going to miss you.” 

Your cheeks tauten and your throat clenches. Your voice is creaky as you speak, “I’ll miss you too.”  

He’ll miss you but he’ll never love you like you do him. 

[sequinsmile-x]

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Thirty Three

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends!!

As always, thank you so much for your love for this fic <3 It means the absolute world.

This chapter is a moment I've been building up to for a while, so I really hope you all enjoy it - and I would love to know what you think!

-x-

Words: 3.3k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron smiles as his phone lights up, Emily’s name appearing on the screen along with the text message she had just sent him.

Are you going to the grocery store on the way home from Haley’s?

He types out his response as he climbs out of his car, walking towards the jewellery store he had parked outside. 

I wasn’t planning on it, but I can if you want.

He receives two responses quickly as if she’d never put her phone down as she waited for his reply.

It’s okay. 

It’s just so hot and ice cream would help.

Aaron shakes his head and types out his reply as he walks into the store, confirming that he’d stop off for her on his way home from picking up Jack. Her response is once again quick, and he can’t help but smile before he puts his phone in his pocket as he catches the attention of the sales assistant behind the counter. 

I love you. I’ll even eat whatever fruit you sneak into it without complaint. 

“My name is Camilla, how can I help you today?” 

Aaron smiles politely at her enthusiasm, “I need to buy a necklace. Just a plain chain. Platinum.” 

She nods and starts to dig out the chains that match his description, and he takes the time to look around, his eyes falling on the matching wedding bands in the display cabinet in front of him. It takes him back to his conversation with Emily a week ago, the forlorn look on her face as she discussed their future wedding, the exact opposite of how he wanted her to feel when she thought of something that was supposed to be special. 

It was their anniversary this weekend. Two years since she’d driven him home from Ohio when he’d almost damaged his hearing beyond repair. It was strange to think how much had changed in that time. That he’d moved twice. That he and Emily were engaged, that they were on the countdown to adding to their family, although he knew Emily would argue that 10 weeks to go still wasn’t close enough for her. 

He smiles and realises there is something he can do for her. That there is one thing he can make easier.

“Can I see these too?” He asks, and Camilla nods, pulling them out of the cabinet and placing them on top for him to get a better look at them. 

“Those are matching platinum bands, available in any size you might need. You’re getting married I take it?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, his eyes fixed on the rings, “Soon.” He continues to stare at them, a plan fully formulating in his mind. He smiles and looks up at Camilla before he can decide it’s a bad idea, “I’ll take them.” 

“What ring size is your fiancee?”  she asks, and he hesitates causing the sale assistant to raise her eyebrow, “You don’t know?” 

“I know what size she usually is, but she's 30 weeks pregnant so her ring size has gone up,” he admits, his cheeks burning with embarrassment he doesn’t quite understand, “That’s what the chain is for, she can’t wear her engagement ring anymore.”

He knew he could just buy her a ring in her usual size, but he wants to get her something that fits now. Something that would match what would be his ring, showing the world that they belonged to each other. 

Camila smiles at him, seemingly finding him endearing now she had the full story,  and she nods, “I’d recommend going up two sizes, especially since she still has some time to go. Once she’s had the baby and everything settles down you can bring it back in to resize.” 

Aaron smiles at the thought of it, of him bringing the ring back to resize it for his wife, as she waited at home for him with their new son or daughter, “Thank you.”

He gets his phone out of his pocket and sends a text to Haley explaining he’d be a little late picking up Jack. 

He had some paperwork to do. 

___

Aaron blows out a steady breath before he knocks on the front door of the home he’d once lived in. It only takes a few seconds for Haley to answer, a smile on her face as she pulls the door open.

“Aaron, hi,” she says, stepping back to let him in, “Jack is upstairs finishing his game, he said he’d be a few minutes.”

They exchange a smile over their son’s antics, and Aaron nods, “I actually needed to talk to you if that’s ok?”

Her smile falters slightly but she nods again, nodding towards the living room, “Is this anything to do with why you’re late?” 

He sits down in the armchair and sighs, his elbows on his knees as he leans forward, waiting for her to sit down on the couch. He places his hand briefly over where the inside pocket lay in his suit jacket, the piece of paper he’d placed there less than an hour ago still safely tucked inside. He looks at his ex-wife and watches as she raises her eyebrows at him expectantly. He knows from past experience that this could go badly, that Haley hadn’t always reacted to changes in his relationship with Emily well at first, but he hopes that, for once, he could ensure no one's feelings were hurt. 

“Emily and I are getting married.” 

Haley chuckles, the noise short and sharp, and she sits back on the couch, “I do know that Aaron, you’ve been engaged almost a year.” 

He smiles tightly before clearing his throat, “I mean, we’re going to get married this weekend. Tomorrow actually. If she agrees.” 

The thought of the rings he’d bought earlier and the marriage license in his pocket briefly eases any tension in his body. This was the right thing for them, he was sure of it, and he hoped Emily agreed when he got home. 

Haley’s smile slips from her face and he watches as her posture tightens, her back going straight as she looks at him. “Oh,” she says, swallowing thickly before she chuckles humourlessly, “I’d ask if it was a shotgun wedding but I think that ship has sailed.” 

He feels fierce protectiveness flood his system, his jaw tight as he looks at her, their eyes meeting from across the room, “Haley.”

“Sorry,” she says, shaking her head at herself, “That was…a bad attempt at a joke that wasn’t funny,” she blows out a breath and swallows down emotions that always threatened to choke her in moments like this, “Why?”

It was a question he’d been expecting, so he’d prepared his answer on the way over. It wasn’t any of Haley’s business to know what Emily was going through with her mother, and that even if he did tell her she wouldn’t be able to understand the complicated nature of the mother-daughter relationship he wasn’t even sure he knew all the nuances of. He and Emily had no secrets, but he was sure there were things about his soon-to-be mother-in-law that he’d be learning for years to come. 

“With everything that has been happening lately, with the move and the baby, the wedding has taken a bit of a backseat,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly, “And things are only going to get busier once the baby arrives.”

They share a knowing smile. Memories of when Jack was a newborn and life got more hectic and exhausting than either of them had anticipated. It’s a flash of a life neither of them lived anymore, but one he was about to restart with someone else. 

“That’s true enough,” Haley says, smiling at him, “But what I meant was, why are you telling me?” 

“Oh,” he replies, clearing his throat, “I’d like Jack to be there. And I didn’t want you to find out second-hand. That wouldn’t be fair on you.” 

 Haley nods and smiles, a sense of sadness she can’t explain after all this time making it shake. 

“I appreciate that,” she replies, “Do you want me to come to get Jack tomorrow afterwards?” She asks, her smile deepening when he looks confused, the same expression on his face that he shared with their son, “Emily is pregnant with your kid, Aaron. As the last person who was, let me tell you - she deserves to be spoiled. Take her somewhere nice afterwards, I’ll pick up Jack and you can make up your time during the week.” 

He stares at her for a moment, the conversation he’d had with Emily about how Jack wanted more time with them echoing in his mind. He knows now isn’t the time, that her, mostly positive, reaction to the news he’d dropped on her didn’t need to be potentially soured. It was something they’d talk about soon, more time with his son something he desperately wanted. 

“That…sounds great, thank you, Haley.” 

She smiles at him, and they hear Jack moving around upstairs, their conversation brought to an end. He runs down the stairs, taking them two at a time despite both of his parent’s warnings to be careful.

“Daddy!” 

Aaron stands just in time to catch Jack in his arms, the little boy wrapping his arms tightly around his neck, “Hey buddy, are you excited for the weekend?” 

He nods, “Emily said we can go to the park.” 

Aaron chuckles adjusting his hold on his son, “We’ll have to see how she feels about that, buddy.” 

Not only had the plans for the weekend changed a lot in the last few hours, he knew any extended period of time walking around the park was something Emily was unlikely to want to do anymore. He knew what she was like though, that if Jack wanted to do it she’d push through the heat and the discomfort that came with being 30 weeks pregnant. 

“Nugget is the size of a cabbage this week.” 

Aaron frowns, unsure where Jack would have learnt that information, and Haley chuckles awkwardly, drawing his attention to her. 

“I…I dug out all the books from when I was pregnant with him,” she says, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “He kept asking questions and I thought I might as well give him some of the answers,” she says, shrugging one of her shoulders, “He is very excited to be a big brother.” 

He doesn’t miss how her voice shakes a little or the way sorrow flashes in her eyes. Everything they were, and what they could have been, hanging between them in the air. Thick in the home they once shared, the place they bought thinking would be their forever. And now he’d found that with someone else, and he just hoped one day soon she would too. 

She covers her reaction quickly and smiles widely at Jack, stepping closer and pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

“Have fun with Daddy and Emily, ok honey?” 

He nods enthusiastically, and as they walk towards the front door he wriggles out of Aaron’s embrace as Haley opens it, running towards the car as he shouts goodbye to his mother over his shoulder. Aaron stands on the porch next to his ex-wife, both of them watching as Jack climbs into the car once Aaron has unlocked it with his key fob. 

“Once you’ve got everything planned out tomorrow let me know when you need me to come get him,” Haley says, turning to look at Aaron.

“Of course,” he says, wishing there was something he could do to make her feel better, that he could go back in time and take away the hurt he had caused without losing what he now had, a life without Emily and the family they were building not something he was interested in, “Thank you for-”

He’s cut off as Haley pulls him into a hug that he returns automatically. The once familiar feeling of her tucked against him foreign as she squeezes him momentarily before she pulls back to look at him, unshed tears shining in her eyes. 

“Congratulations Aaron,” she says stepping back from him, putting space back between them, “You and Emily are good for each other,” she smiles, “I don’t know if I ever said that.” 

He returns her smile, “Thank you, Haley,” he says, the relief he doesn’t expect unfurling in his chest, “That means a lot.” 

She smiles, “You should get going, she’ll wonder where you are.” 

He nods, smiling at her once more before he walks down the steps leading from the porch to the driveway. He opens the rear door and checks on Jack’s straps on his booster seat.

“We’re going home to Emily now, Daddy?” 

Aaron nods, content that the booster seat is secure, “Yes, but first we are going to the store to get her some ice cream, and on the way you and I are going to have a big boy talk.”

___

Emily yawns as she settles deeper into the couch, scratching Sergio’s head as he curls up on her lap, his head laying on her bump. She chuckles as he doesn’t react physically to the movement she feels inside her belly, his purring only getting louder. 

“I know the second Nugget is here you’re going to abandon me,” she says to the cat, scratching his head in between his ears, “But I’ll take all the affection I can get in the next 10 weeks.” 

“He loves you,” Aaron says as he walks into the living room before joining her on the couch, and she smiles wryly at him, raising her eyebrow at him. 

“Sergio loves the Hotchners,” she says, “I just happen to have the youngest one living inside of me right now.” She quips, and he chuckles and presses a kiss to her temple as he wraps his arm around her, “So, are you going to tell me what you and Jack were all secretive about this evening?” 

She’d noticed it instantly. A mischievous look on the little boy's face as they ate dinner, and a similar look on Aaron’s face that she knew meant he was hiding something. They’d tried to play it off all evening and she’d accepted it, knowing that despite her curiosity she could wait until Jack was in bed, and now he was she was desperate to know what was going on. 

She never had enjoyed the feeling of not being in the know. 

Aaron tenses next to her, nervous energy spreading through his veins as he presses another kiss to her temple before he pulls away. “Close your eyes.”

She frowns at him, a look on her face he’d call adorable if he didn’t know she’d kill him for it, very pregnant or not, “What? Why?” 

Aaron hides a smirk and leans forward to kiss her cheek, the movement disturbing Serigo who meows as he jumps off her lap, sauntering off towards the kitchen. 

“Just humour me.” 

She sighs and makes a show of doing as he’s asked, her arms crossed over the top of her bump, “Ok, my eyes are closed.”

He pulls the ring box that holds the matching wedding bands out of his pocket and opens it, making sure it’s facing her so she can see the inside, and he blows out one final breath.

“You can open them.” He says, and he does as she’s told and looks at him, her eyebrows furrowing as she looks at the box he’s presenting her with. She falters, unable to respond as she looks up at him, her eyes meeting his. “Emily, will you marry me?”

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches on what she refuses to call a sob in her chest, her emotions getting the better of her like they always did these days. 

“I don’t know if you remember this, honey, but I already said yes. We’ve been engaged a year,” she replies, using humour to cover the shake to her voice. It makes him smile, the response so similar to the one Haley had given him earlier that it warms him from the inside out.

“I know that,” he says, reaching for her hand and grasping it, running his thumb over her bare ring finger, “I mean, will you marry me now? Tomorrow.” 

She stares at him open-mouthed, genuinely lost for words for the first time since they’d met and she laughs again, “What?” 

“I went to the store to buy a chain for your ring, and I saw the wedding bands,” he explains, placing the ring box down on the coffee table in front of them, “And I realised we should just get married. I don’t need a big wedding, and it would just be us and Jack. No complications because of your mother or anybody else,” he says, carrying on as she continues to look at him, “Because I keep thinking about what you said, how you just want to be my wife, and I really just want to be your husband.” 

She stares at him, and has to remind herself to breathe, wiping a stray tear from her cheek as she finally regains the ability to speak, “That’s….” she huffs out a laugh, “What about the team? Or Haley?” 

He falls even more in love with her in that moment. Her concern for other people above her own needs was one of the many reasons he’d fallen in love with her in the first place, even when she did it to her own detriment. 

“The team would get over it,” he says, “And…I already spoke to Haley.” 

If she thought he was done surprising her this evening she was wrong, her eyebrows raising, “You did?”

“Yes. I didn’t think it would be right to do with Jack there and tell her afterwards. She was fine with it,” he says, leaving out the brief snippy comment he’d had from his ex-wife, “She even told me she’d come get Jack afterwards so I can whisk you away somewhere for the night,” he raises his eyebrow, “Something about how being pregnant with my kid isn’t easy and you deserve to be spoiled.”

Emily laughs at that, wiping more tears from her cheeks as she nods, “Well, she’s right about that.” They fall into silence for a moment as she thinks about what he’s said, about how it’s the answer to the question she’d been asking herself for weeks, “We could just…get married tomorrow?” 

He nods, “I have the marriage license and everything,” he says, and they fall into silence again, which unnerves him, “Look, sweetheart if I’ve read this wrong-”

“Let’s do it,” she replies, cutting over him, her smile wide. 

“Really?” He asks, his eyes wide as she nods. And she leans in to kiss him fiercely, her hand still on his cheek as she pulls away. 

“Really. I’ll need to figure out what the hell I’m going to wear. Even if I did have anything that’s white it definitely won’t fit anymore-”

“I’ll take you shopping in the morning if you want. I’ll do anything you want.” 

She laughs again, leaning her forehead against his, “You hate the mall.”

“But I love you,” he replies, stamping his lips against hers, “And I can make an exception on our wedding day.” 

She smiles, her cheeks aching with it, her heart swelling with happiness she had once thought was impossible. 

“Our wedding day,” she says, emphasising the words as she repeats them back to him, “I love you so fucking much.” 

“No cursing in front of Nugget,” he says, laughing when she rolls her eyes at him, and he places his hand on her stomach, the feeling of their baby shifting beneath Emily’s skin making the moment seem even more special. “We’re really going to do this?” 

She smiles, nodding as she bites her lower lip, “Yeah,” she replies, “We’re getting married tomorrow.” 

-x-

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[dyrewrites]

WiP Titles Tag

@owlsandwich wants me to suffer, I guess (I kid). ^.-

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

Let's spread the suffering! @stesierra @rmgrey-author and @pb-dot -- what you got hiding in your folders? =P

I have folders for what things are, so we'll arrange by that.

And, to keep it less ridiculous--because this is already so long--I'll only share ones with actual bits written...instead of all the ideas and notes and random dialogue. It needs some prose in there or it won't count.

Also I am just sharing snippets, because it is easier than trying to explain what they are for me. >.>

Shorts -- Horror

I have 6-7 of these planned out but just the one started

The Roommate

I'm starving. It's been a week now since you went shopping, since you made a meal, and there's nothing to eat. Nothing to sup or chew or even gnaw.  And I see you, every day I see you, in this deafening quiet that used to be our home. You leave our bedroom, eyes forward, steps stiff and dig in a closet by the kitchen. Rope then in hand, you check the front door but you don't open it.  On your way back to the room you turn on every light. They're blinding, crackling, begging to burn out and still you leave them on.

Novellas

Rite of the Dinfa -- Mar Sidestory -- dark fantasy/romance

One of four planned sides-tories for the Children of Mar series.

Ophmit is the name we were instructed to use for our Cardinal. An Imaryn name, but not one given by family. It was one she had earned through lust and sacrifice, as one of us soon would, and I wondered then of names. As the lights wore and the Glaer crashed upon our caves, slaking the thirst of the Teeth we crowded in, I lost my focus to that wonder. What power must rest in names, that we clutch some so close and toss others as freely as stones into the sea? Her tale burned brighter; brighter and hotter than the fire that stung our nostrils and squinted our eyes. It wetted us deeper than the sea-licked air and drew us - every one - into the dance of her shadow.

Children's

Mr. Friendly

Did I do it wrong? The shadow wondered, from the quiet darkness of the closet, it’s three little taps first, then again, then three more, and then quicker ones, right?…or was it slower ones? Was I not s’posed to tap the door after? He had tried this before, many times in fact, more than he could count–maybe more than anyone could–and it always ended the same. No matter which way he did it, no matter how many patterns he tried, they ran away.

Standalone Novels

Before Deluca -- vampire romance //tie-in to Bloodhound Series

Yet we are discussing the night before 1700 began, when my future sauntered off one of those ships. Whether I wanted it, asked for it, agreed to it…well, that was as unclear then as it is now. But his presence heralded magnificent, insurmountable change. Ethereal, that presence, there exists no other word. He glowed in the light, near pearlescent skin a mesmerizing contrast to the bronze complexions I was accustomed to. Never mind the litheness of his figure, the feline grace in every twist and curve as he walked the dock. I couldn't look away; in fact I shifted to chase him, sliding my hands along the railing to keep him in my sights. He sang to me, all of him sang, and I ached to dance to that melody...

Ruddy Cheeks -- mystery/thriller

It was warm, balmy and bright that summer. The sort of weather that itches, that burns redhot on any bare scrap of skin not slathered in sunscreen. An average summer for the land without seasons. The city of sun and sea, of transplanted palm trees and overreaching cartoon mice… And it was during that painfully average summer that Lexi died. Her heart continued to beat after, her blood pumped, her neruons fired and she even reacted to outside stimulae. She smiled, she laughed, when appropriate, when expected. But, despite her best efforts, Lexi wasn't alive and, as she stared into the too-clean mirror of her bathroom at the emptiness overtaking her eyes, she worried. No, she concluded, with absolute certainty; she never would be again.

Gravedust -- horror/mystery/comedy

They say that, in my line of work, there are no accidents. That is true. There are eons of intent and planning. You have to make it look like an accident, however, or the critters start to get suspicious. Natural disasters are the easiest, of course, but you try getting all of that chaos to line up in just the right way every time you need it to. The second best are crashes; whether plane, train, ship or automobile. A crash is hard to top, plenty of shades available to paint the scene you want without drawing any attention. These divisions are considered menial labor, any fresh bag of bones off the rack can handle faulty brakes and an icy road.

Series Novels

Children of Mar -- dark fantasy/horror -- quadrilogy

I only have the first one, which is essentially finished, only notes written for the other three but including them anyway

Weald and Wen

The Nothing screamed. Its hollow wail pierced the disquieting gray and cyan of the Darklands. Fyrni lands, Loahl's lands...and he heard it, loud and dreadful through the stillness and prayed to the Lady that the younglings did not. With their ears twitched tall on their youth-rounded heads, his younglings scrambled behind him, eyes alight in vibrant blues. Blues that should have been yellow, burning with the fiery tether of their shadows...but those shadows were lost.

Wake and Glare

Flicker and Din

Heart and Breath

Tales of Morne -- urban fantasy/absurdist -- trilogy

Pale Blood

Opinions held for good reason—as far as he was considered—as he’d been kissing their asses and doing whatever was asked of him since he fucked up and fell from the grace of Upper Dolor’s majestic towers. A fall those crusty old relics wouldn’t let him forget. Jealous fucks the lot of ‘em, he’d remind himself whenever their teeth sunk too deep, or their words cut too wide, can’t stand that I can do what their ancient asses can’t. And he was right, in a way.

Light Thieves

That fancy little auto may have been much smaller and faster than ours, but it was getting awfully close…with no signs of losing interest. “And whose fault is this?” Delilah asked–more sneered, but who could blame her. I didn’t need to answer, and she would’ve clocked me if I tried…but it was my fault. I couldn't help it! We had jars upon jars of the shine and there was no time when we grabbed it to really look. So, as soon as we were free of the transport, and free of the drones, I looked. A peek, really! Worth it, if you asked me–and someone would, later, probably with knuckles involved. But I didn’t care.

Wish

One by one the street lamps flickered and went dark. The roar and hum of the vehicles on the street faded, the birds ended their nightly songs with sudden and uncomfortable silence. She was alone. Well, that was nothing new really - but alone in a few blocks of parking lot with no lights and no sound was certainly new.  Waiting for her sight to adjust to the lack of a light source, she stood completely still. Eyes sliding back and forth, scanning the area - what did she expect to find?  Monsters, surely. What else would cause such a scene just for her. What else could.  "What else indeed." The voice was close, familiar too. 

Chronicles of Ash -- urban fantasy/mystery

Notes in the Undersong

only one I have anything for, but I know it's going to be a series...

The blood dried up, but not before that soft round face—that was surely something to look at when it was flesh and bone instead of dripping ectoplasm—poked out of the wall in front of me with its tongue out. “You're no fun when you're workin’,” she whined, echoing voice vibrating a bit too loud. “And you've never been any, what's your point?” Bit harsh, I'll admit, but she ruined three potions and half a grand of materials. I had a right. The pout did hit me though, a tad, but I could bring her some cat bones later, and add a feline to my ever-expanding menagerie of spooks. She'd love that.

Bloodhound -- urban fantasy/mystery

Another one that'll be a series, but I only have a scene in the first book so far

But, at the moment, with the sun rising—throbbing its heat in time to his veins—Deluca was more concerned with getting home before his daughter woke for school. While she was old enough to make her own way there, she would smell the man on him—werewolf senses were something one never got used to—and deride him for it. Her list of ‘things to shove in Dad’s face when I want something’ was long enough… He had to get home and shower before she had the chance to add to it.

[misplaczd]

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖊 & 𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖊 ( 001 )

GAME OF THRONES SPOILERS BELOW !

@trcnquils​

elizabeth’s coffee table had been garnished with a selection of alcohol: everything from everclear to light beer. ellie bounced around in terms of preference , tailoring her drink to her mood ( which seemed to be ever-shifting ) ; additionally , she wanted to ensure that charlie had his own selection of drinks. while her supply of booze was copious , her company had been lacking the past few months. ellie was endlessly thankful for charlie’s presence and the comfort it provided ; while some fled her side after her husband’s disappearance , charlie seemed to draw nearer. after two shots of gin , one glass of bourbon , and two glasses of grenache ( which had succeeded in staining ellie’s lips a deep purple ) , ellie’s reflections on the passages they had just read became a bit scattered. ��� so . . . drogo is even worse off than he was before ? “ ellie inquired incredulously. “ did she , “ hiccup. “ do you think she knew she’d be giving up her baby ? what does that say about her ? is it wrong to choose love over your unborn child ? “ thoughts swarmed elizabeth’s head. her own feelings on the matter were unclear and brought a feeling of dread to the forefront of her mind ( mostly due to the fact that she was leaning toward daenerys’s decision , knowing it’d give her back her husband at the cost of her child ; a very morbid thought ) .

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sideline Love ~ Chapter 14 ~ Fathers and Daughters

Pairings - NFL! Chris Evans and OFC Rebecca Rooney

Series Summary: All football player Chris wants is to play football with his best friends in the NFL. But the night before he meets someone who could change his life... if she wasn't the bosses daughter. Can Chris change her mind with a little sideline love?

Word Count: 3.4K

General Warnings: smut! angst, cheating, parental interference, fluff, football Chris has beard ( 😏 ), injuries during the game, special appearance (don't @ me lol)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Becca Rooney and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

I am trying out a taglist. Please let me know if you would like to be included.

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Families never seem to be easy.  It’s a fairy tale that parents and childrens, especially fathers and daughters get along perfectly.  Daddy’s Princess and all of that.  Its not reality.

At least, its not Becca’s reality.

Becca started to pack up her office.  The same office she had only been in for eight months. Even with Chris playing, his future was still uncertain come the off season and Becca would be going with him wherever he landed. The only person she hadn’t discussed her move with was Tom.  Since she didn’t know where she was going, she didn’t want to bring on the headache of his complaints until she knew where.

Her mother had tried to convince her to stay, for the sake of being close to family while Chris was working.  But the conversation had been hard.

*~**~*

“Rebecca, I know your father crossed a line banning you from seeing someone but be realistic.  You need family.”

“I do need family.  But why is it it that Chris’s family has been way more supportive of our relationship than you and dad have and they haven’t met Charlie?  I only met Lisa when he was hurt.  And yet, they are cheering us on.”

“That’s not fair Becca.  I wasn’t given the chance to meet Chris properly and get to know him.”

“Because Dad made it impossible.” Becca pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Ok, wait.  You’re right.  Why don’t we do this.  You come to our house and have dinner.  Get to know Chris.  See how much he loves your granddaughter and me and understand why I would follow him anywhere.”

That dinner was right before Thanksgiving and Avery Rooney was impressed.  The young man was obviously in love with not only her daughter but made sure Charlie was the center of their world.  Something she had wished for her for so long.  To have a father.  After that dinner, she talked every night to her husband.

“Rick, you should see them together.  They are just like how you and I were when we were dating.”

“I asked Rebecca to do one thing and she didn’t listen.”

“So what? She fell in love Rick.”

“Avery, how can she run the team if she can’t listen?”

“Is that what this is about?  God Rick, you are just a dumbass man after all.”  Avery walked out of the room.

Rick sat, shocked as his wife was always kind with her words.  He knew Avery’s world was all about her family.  It had to be, since she was the daughter of another famous football family.  The Mara’s owned the New York Giants so Avery was brought up in this world.  He valued her opinion on everything.

And right now her opinion of him was low.

*~**~*

Becca pulled her phone out when it buzzed.

C: Ma said she couldn’t wait to have us for Christmas

B: Can’t believe the first time I really meet her will be at Christmas

C: I know babe but it’s the only time I can do it this

B: I know love.  At least it will be easier since Charlie needs to be in Boston for Christmas morning

C: If we must

B: Chris…

C: I know love, doesn’t mean I like it

C: Want my girls with me for the holiday

B; I know. Me too

Becca put her phone down as she continue to organize her paperwork. She looked over the files from the draft and smiled.  She looked over Chris’s file, reading his stats, his grades.  She couldn’t believe she hadn’t put the man at the bar and this man together.  But she was glad she hadn’t.  Things would have turned out so differently.

“I saw his potential you know.  Its why I wanted to trade for the picks.” Becca looked up to see her father in the door way.

“I see it.  I see your notes too.” Becca stood up straight. “Is there something you need?”

“I wanted to invite you and Chris and Charlie to dinner.  At the house.”

“I don’t know…”

“I just want to talk ok?  But I would like to do so in private.”

Becca sighed.  “I’ll ask Chris.  Its up to him.”

Rick nodded.  “Ok.”  He started to walk away.   “I miss you my princess,” he mumbled.

Becca’s heart clenched, seeing her father sad.  They had always had the best relationship. Until Tom.  She knew her father had been disappointed in her for her decisions but he never once made Charlie feel like she was a mistake.

B: babe, my father just invited us to dinner

C: really?

B: yeah.

B: up to you

C: I think we should

C: don’t want you to lose your family

C: especially if we move

Becca could cry at his thoughtfulness. He never put himself first. She stood up and looked out the window.  Her view was amazing.  Overlooking Heinz Field, Becca hugged herself as she lost herself in thought.

“You think any harder, the hamster will fall off the wheel.”

Becca turned and smiled at Ben.  “You always know when I’m thinking too hard.”

“This time I was tipped off.  Chris was getting ready for practice.”

“God that man.  What did I do to deserve him?”

“Well I was thinking of what was it he did to earn your attention.” Ben sat on the couch in her office and patted the seat next to him.  Becca sat and looked at her friend.  “You know I remember the first time I met you. Tenacious little five year old princess. Not unlike another princess I know.” Ben smirked while Becca laughed.  “You were so headstrong, so independent.  You came right up to me and said…”

“You better win my daddy a championship,” Becca finished the sentence. “I remember.”

“When you first told me you were pregnant and you weren’t sure how to tell your father, I was honored that you confided in me.  You’re like my little sister.”

“You’ve always been a big brother to me. When the players would pick on me growing up, you always had my back.”

“And I always will.”  Ben scooted closer. “What’s on your mind?”

“Dad invited us to dinner.  To talk. Chris wants us to go.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I miss him.  We sit in the meetings and I see how much he’s changed.  How defeated he looks.  And I want to fogive him but…”

“But he tried to take the first man you really loved away from you.”

“And then he punished Chris.  And it hurts to see Chris so sad not to play.  And when you guys told him to suit up, it’s the happiest he’s been in a long time.  Charlie loves him.  I love him.”

“Becca, I think you should hear your father out. Maybe he can see how happy you are and realized his mistakes.  And maybe you will see yours in holding on to this.  Charlie can’t lose family right now.  Not when you are in the middle of the mess with Brady. You need family.”

Becca leaned into Ben.  “What am I going to do without you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m leaving. IF Chris leaves, we’re going with him.”

“Becca…”

“Ben, I have to.  He… he almost sacrificed his career for me.  He went to court for me.  Went through stupid questioning for me.  This is the least I can do for him.”

Ben nodded.  “Then I’ll miss you.  You’re always welcome with us ok? He pulled her into a hug.  Love you sis.”

“Love you too bro.”

That night, Chris and Becca got ready for bed.  “Do you honestly think dinner is a good idea?” she asked.

“Angel, we have to clear the air sometime.  Charlie misses her grandparents.  She just asked when she was going to see Nana again.” Chris climbed into bed with her.  She rested her body against his. “I know its hard sweetheart but I just don’t want you to regret time with your parents.”

“What if he’s rude? What if he is insulting?”

“Then I will take my family out right away.” Chris kissed her head. “You know I would do anything to protect you.”

“I know you would Chris.  I’m just worried.”

“What can I do to reassure you Angel?” He pulled her into his lap. “You need me to distract you?”

“Distract me how?”

Chris grinned and leaned his head into her neck, pressing his lips right in her sweet spot.  She moan lightly at the sensation.  “Need more Angel?” She nodded quickly.  “Use your words.”

“Need more Chris. Need you please.”

“My good Angel, being so polite.” Chris manouvered her onto the bed and hovered over her. “What do you want Angel, hmm? Tell me.”

“Need you to touch me.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

Chris smiled as he started to kiss her neck more and moved down, gently sucking on her skin.  She withered and squirmed with each kiss. He pulled off her shirt to reach her sweet nipples.  He wanted to try something to see her reaction.  “One day,” he said, “these will be nice and big when you are carrying my baby. They will be so sensitive, so delicious.”

Becca had no idea why that turned her on. “Fuck Chris, keep talking.”

He smirked.  “I’m gonna marry you one day and get you nice and big with my child. Give Charlie a sibling.”

That did it. Becca pulled Chris to her and kissed him hard.  She used all her strength to flip them over. “I need you now Evans.”  She lowered herself to pull him out of his sleep pants.  His rock hard member stood erect and she places a soft, long lick on the tip.

“Oh fuck.  Shit, no, you are not taking control of this.” Chris pulled her up and moved her pantiess to the side as he thrusted into her.  She moaned loudly. “Always so tight Angel. Fuck, just like heaven.” He grasped her hips to move her faster.

“Fuck Chris, yes, right there,” she moaned.

“I love you Angel so much.  You feel so good.” Chris let his fingers dip in to massage her clit.

“Oh god, that feels so good. Don’t stop Chris, please.”

“Won’t ever stop Angel. Cum for me my Angel. Let go.”  He applied a little more pressure on her clit and she wailed.

“Fuck!” She chanted his name. “ChrisChrisChris.”

“Let go Becca, please let go.” She cummed with a silent scream as he continued to move.  As she was still coming down, he flipped them and continued to pound into her, chasing his own high.  “Fuck yes!” He yelled finding his own release.  He slowed to a stop, still inside her.  “Was that enough of a distraction Angel?”

“You can do that to distract me anytime love.”

He pulled out and cleaned her up. “Love you so much Becca.”

“Love you too Chris.” She yawned as she settled on his chest.  “Trust you.”

“Protect you.  Always,” he whispered as he listened to her settle and fall asleep.  

*~**~*

A few nights later found Chris, Becca and Charlie pulling into the Rooney family home.  The mansion (for lack of a better term) looked the same to Becca as ever.  The place she grew up, where Charlie brought when she came home. She sighed.

“We can drive home if you want.”  She looked at Chris as he gave her a soft smile. “Pick up some Pete’s, put on a movie.  Whatever you want.”

Becca cupped his cheek.  “I love you so much.  And tonight won’t change that.”

“Angel, I love you too. Everything is going to be fine.  Your mom is in your corner as well.”  He kissed your knuckles. “We’re a team and nothing will change that.”

Becca took a deep breath.  “Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Ready!” Charlie’s answer punctuated with a giggle. “Daddy out!”

“Okie dokie munchkin.  Imma carry you in ok, its icy.” Chris exited the car and went to open Becca’s door.  He helped her out before going to Charlie’s door.  He lifted the girl in his arms and carefully made his way to the door with Becca holding onto him as well.  December in Pittsburgh is no joke.  They made it to the door when it opened wide revealing Avery.

“Come in! Get warm.  Hi darling,” hugging and kissing Becca.

“Hi Mama. You remember Chris and what her name again?” Pointing to Charlie.

“Mama I’m Charlie,” she squealed as she reached for her grandmother.  “Hi Nana!”

“Hi baby! Are you getting bigger?”

“No!”  She wiggled to run into the house.

“Chris, its nice to see you again.”

“Thank you for inviting me Mrs. Rooney.” Chris offered his hand.

“None of that Christopher.”  Avery laughed as she pulled in Chris for a hug.  “And its Avery. Now, dinner is almost ready so how about a drink first.”  The couple nodded as they joined hands and followed Avery.  “Rick, did you find…”

“Papa!!!” Charlie jumped from the couch into Rick’s arms.

“Charlie Bear! I’ve missed you. Are you getting bigger?”  He hugged his granddaughter tight.

“Papa, too tight.”

“Oh sorry.”  He adjusted her to his hip. “Becca, Chris, thanks for coming.”  He leaned to give his daughter a kiss on the cheek and then shook Chris’s hand.

“Thank you for inviting us Dad.”  Becca guided Chris to the couch as Charlie took her seat on Rick’s lap.

“Red wine ok for everyone?” Avery offered.

“That’s great Mrs.. Avery,” Chris cleared his throat from nerves.  Avery had been kind when he met her last but Rick made him nervous. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you Chris.”  Avery passed drinks around including a sippy cup for Charlie. “Your home is nice as well.  I don’t think I mentioned it when I was there.”

“Well thank you.  Its getting better with Becca’s touches.”  He gave Becca a loving look and squeezed her hand.

“And how is the sale going Becca?  On the house?”

“You’re selling your house?” Rick looked at her.

“Yeah, we are moving in with Chris as soon as the sale goes through.  We got an offer a couple of days ago.”  Becca looked at the intertwined fingers, unsure of what else to say.

“Oh, well congratulations.  Big step.”

The silence was awkward to say the least until a ding announced that whatever in the over was done.  “Sorry Chris I didn’t ask. Are you ok with meatloaf?”

“Sounds good Avery.”

“Great.  Give me five minutes.  Becca, can you help me?”

“Sure mom.”  She rose with a kiss to Chris’s cheek. “Can you get her into her chair?”

“’Course Angel.”  Chris watched Becca leave the room and then turned back to Rick and Charlie.  

“They will be a minute,” Rick said. “You have a house.”

“Yes, my mother and I scouted houses when I got drafted.  Had some money from the settlement of the accident.  Took care of the down.  Charlie, she picked her room and we are working on finishing it for her.”

“That great. Really.” Rick swallowed.

“Dinner’s ready,” Avery called out.  “Rick stood up and Charlie reached for Chris.”

“Daddy will you sit with me?”

“Of course munchkin.  But you gotta each whatever Nana puts on your plate ok?”

“Ok daddy.”

Rick watched in amazement as Chris got Charlie in her booster seat and made sure a napkin covered her.  Avery and Becca set all the plates down and they all sat to eat.

Rick chewed and swallowed.  “I didn’t know Charlie was calling Chris dad now.”

Becca’s eyes went wide.  “Oh, yeah. Umm, she just decided to one day.  Chris didn’t mind, right honey?”

“No Angel, I don’t mind.  Always wanted a family and Charlie is perfect.”

Rick watched the look Chris would give Becca.  Looks of admiration, adoration, of love. And it hit him.  This wasn’t like before.  This wasn’t a man trying to take advantage of his daughter.  Of her position in the world, of her vunerability.  This was a man in love.  In love with his baby girl.  In love with his grandbaby.

Avery kept the conversation light during dinner, asking how Charlie was doing in school and decisions on the decorating of Chris’s home. “Well Becca, you always want to consider flooring especially with children.”

“I know mom but carpet…”

“I need to say something.”  All the adults turned to Rick.  “Sorry, I just��� I need to say this.”  He took a swallow of his wine before continuing. “I know that I have been unfair to you Becca about the dating things and your relationship with Chris.  It kills me that all of this happened because I wanted to teach you some things before you were ready.”

“Dad…”

“No let me finish. I know you decided to do what you did and I hate that he… he didn’t take responsibility.  You deserved way more than that. But I’ve watched Chris with you and Charlie and I see now that he is nothing like him.  He looks at you like I look at your mother. And that is something I shouldn’t have taken so lightly.”

“Mr. Rooney, I do love your daughter so much.”  Chris grasped Becca’s hand. “She and Charlie are my whole world.”

“Its all I ever wanted for them.  Someone to love them both.”  Rick sighed.  “I owe you this Chris.  I am sorry.  Sorry for benching you, sorry for trying to take Becca away from you.  From trying to take Charlie from you.”

“I understood where you were coming from Mr. Rooney.  If someone hurt my daughter the way Brady did, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have reacted the same way.”

“Its Rick, Chris. But I should have realized that you were special to Becca. I am so sorry princess. I’m sorry that I tried to break your heart.”

“Oh daddy,” Becca let the tears flow as she got up and went to her fathers seat, throwing her arms around him.  He clutched his daughter.

“I’m so sorry Becca.  Please forgive me,” he whispered.

“I forgive you daddy.  I love you.”

“Love you princess. So much.”  He wiped his eyes as Becca pulled back.

“Knew you were a sap Ricky,” Avery said wiping her eyes.  “Let’s finish up dinner so I can get little miss here her favorite dessert.”

“Oreos!” Charlie squealed. “Nana, that’s Daddy’s favorite too!” 

“Is it?  Well, he has good taste.” She threw a wink at Chris.

The rest of the dinner was light. Rick invited Chris for a scotch while Avery and Becca cleaned up. 

“I know this probably goes without say Chris but if you hurt my girl…”

“Don’t worry Rick. I have no intention of ever hurting them. If we could get through this, we can get through anything.” Chris took a sip, “but I have to say something.”

“Alright.”

“I could see the look on your face when Becca said she was selling.  I know it’s a house you helped her buy.  I didn’t ask her to do that.”

“Chris, son, you have to know that I know my daughter very well.  She would have only done it if she was completely in love with you.  And I know she is.” Rick took his own sip. “What are your intentions Chris?”

“Intentions?”

“Are you planning your future with my daughter?”

Chris took a breath and smiled.  “I know we are moving fast but I have never felt anything like this with anyone else.  She’s my everything.  They both are.”

“You gonna ask her?”

“Not until I talk to you and Avery.  I’m a traditionalist, Rick.  I want your blessing when I am ready to ask.”

“And you’re ok with being a dad? A premade family?”

“I don’t see it as premade.  I see as it as my destiny to have that little girl be mine.  She’s mine Rick, biology or not.”

Rick smiled.  “She’ll say yes.  But worry about that later.  We have playoff games to win.”

Chris smiled.  “Yes sir.”

In the kitchen, Avery and Becca were sipping coffee as Charlie finished her milk and cookies. “That boy is going to marry you one day.”

“You think?”

“I can see it Becca.  He is completely in love with you.”

Becca sighed happily.  “I love him too.”

After Oreos, the little family carefully made their way home.  “So that dinner was a success,” Chris commented as he held Becca’s hand.

“It was.” Becca studied her boyfriend.  “Chris?”

“Yes Angel?”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure about what love?”

“About us?”

Chris turned slightly to look at her before turning back. “Becca, where is this coming from?”

“Its just feels like a dream.”

“Angel, you are my forever.  Its my dream come true.” 

Becca smiled.

“Mine too.”

Taglist:

@patzammit @texmexdarling

[saurexhas]

Love is Blind - Part 4

Time for couple drama! Nightmare doesn’t want anything to hurt his precious little moon, but how does said moon feel about the special treatment?

PS: Make sure you go to the end to find a special surprise that I’ll be doing for this series!

******************************************************************************

Adjusting to blindness is never something you thought that you’d have to do, but it was the unfortunate reality you found yourself in. There certainly wasn’t a manual to it either, but you were managing thanks to everyone’s help. There were several days first spent on bedrest while you recovered from the initial incident, and it gave you a chance to come to terms with your fate and what your actions had brought. You still didn’t regret them though, because your sight was truly a small price to pay for Nightmare’s life.

That didn’t mean that the adjustment period was easy, and you probably would’ve succumbed to despair more than once if Nightmare hadn’t been by your bedside almost the entire time. Your bedroom was quickly turned into his temporary office, allowing him to continue his work and further his plans while offering you the reassuring touch of a tentacle that always lingered on your arm as proof of his presence.

When your partner was finally comfortable with the idea of you leaving your bed, it was… well, difficult would be putting it mildly. You never once realized just how much you relied on sight for almost everything. It took a day and a bit of you simply wandering around your room to not bump into everything, and even longer to actually be able to navigate by touch. Thankfully, nobody in the castle really cared about your appearance, so you weren’t judged by what clothes you were able to find and put on by yourself.

Your room was about the only place where you could safely be allowed to wander on your own at first. The castle was a confusing labyrinth of pathways and corridors that were already difficult to navigate. Attempts to explore the castle in the past had led to you almost getting lost in some abandoned part of the castle, so there was no way you were even going to try such now. But even the areas that were once familiar to you were now alien as you relied on sound and touch to guide you instead of the sense you so heavily relied on.

For the first while, Nightmare personally escorted you on any walks outside of your room. This was mostly to and from meals, a time where you could practically feel everyone’s eyes on the two of you. Your seat had also been moved towards the head of the table, just to the right of Nightmare. The dark god claimed that it was so that he could assist you should you need help with your meals. Killer was quick to point out how any of them could help you though, teasing that the real reason was simply to stick next to you like “an overprotective boyfriend”. According to Cross, the look on Nightmare’s face had been one of pure murder… even if everyone at the table knew that the idiot was right.

One thing that Killer also nailed was how protective your boyfriend suddenly was. Gone were the days of you having free reign over the castle. Instead, in the instances where he couldn’t personally escort you, one of the others was chosen to be your guide instead. Even as you grew more comfortable heading to the areas you often frequented, the rule didn’t let up. He’d also put a stop to any training or sparring plans you might’ve had, insisting that it was too dangerous to continue when you couldn’t see an attack coming.

While you understood that he did it out of love, that didn’t change how frustrating it was. You already couldn’t read, play cards, or even really cook, the last of the three likely being on the dark god’s ban list had there not been enough obvious difficulty to deter you. Sparring with the guys, while rough, was one of the only hobbies you had left, and you trusted that none of them would seriously hurt you. But Nightmare refused to listen to any arguments you put forward, and none of the others would entertain the idea for fear of their lord’s wrath.

So on top of learning to navigate a world of utter darkness, adapting daily chores to your new limitations, and being treated like you were fragile, you were utterly bored. And as days turned to weeks, your frustrations grew. You were used to everyone simply treating you as one of the crew, albeit one that Nightmare favoured. When you first arrived here, you had to fight for your right to remain and not be turned into dinner. The others had respected you for the most part, and if you wanted to engage in any of their usual antics, they didn’t hesitate to include you. Now though, everyone seemed intent on treating you as if you were some doll, one to be sat on a shelf and never touched. Everyone was suddenly afraid of hurting you, and you were no longer one of the crew. You were something else, above the others now that your relationship with the god of negativity had gotten out. Pyre had even stated that if Nightmare was their king, then that made you their ‘queen’ in a sense. Suddenly, you were set to be a ruler over the dark god’s future empire, and everyone’s views of you shifted because of it.

One choice, one that seemed so infallible before, had turned your whole life upside down. You expected to be injured in place of Nightmare, but not blinded. And while trying to deal with such a severe change of lifestyle, you were now being placed on a pedestal and nobody would treat you the same. Part of you wanted to take your frustrations out on the nearby wall, but that would likely only bring someone running to tend to your hand as if it were broken. No, you needed to go to the source of the problem.

While navigating the halls by yourself was more difficult than you could’ve ever guessed, it was made easier by your forethought to create a mental map through touch whenever you were being escorted about. The subtle change in the sound of your footfall let you know when you’d left the solid foundation of the hall your bedroom was on in favour of the landing for the grand staircase. Following the railing with your hand, you found where the hallway changed directions. To go downstairs would take you to the common room and the kitchens, while upstairs led to the library and Nightmare’s office. With your goal upstairs, you carefully shuffled along the steps, shoving your foot forward until it came in contact with the next. When your feet slid freely along the floor and the railing straightened out, you knew that you’d made it to the third floor where you’d find your partner.

After a bit of difficulty gathering your bearings and navigating the third floor of the castle, you came to Nightmare’s office. The door was open only a crack, enough to give others the hint to leave him be while allowing him to hear if any chaos should erupt from the lower levels. Ever so slowly, you pushed the door open, only to cringe as a painfully loud squeak of the hinges alerted your boyfriend to your presence. “MC? What are you doing up here? Whoever brought you here should know that I didn’t wish to be disturbed.”

“Oh, nobody brought me here, I came up here myself. Wasn’t that hard,” you shrugged, lying a bit at the ease of which you got here but determined to make the dark god see that you weren’t helpless. “We need to talk.”

A sigh emanated from Nightmare’s direction, and you could imagine how he was pinching the bridge of his nose as he often did when annoyed or frustrated with something. “First off, I thought I made it clear that you are to have someone escort you around the castle to minimize accidents. And secondly, can whatever conversation you want wait? I have plenty of-”

“No actually, it can’t,” you cut him off, mustering your confidence as you stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind you. “I need to talk to you now, not later.”

Being unable to read his body language was frustrating, leaving everything to your imagination with no way to know if you were interpreting things correctly. You knew that he didn’t like taking orders from anyone, not even you, leaving you to wonder if the silence was due to your demanding tone. Perhaps you should’ve worded things better, but before you could worry too much, Nightmare responded to your demanding request. “Very well, for you little moon, I will make time. Please, take a seat and share what’s on your mind.”

It took every ounce of focus you had to find one of the plush chairs on the other side of his desk, sinking down into it once you found it and being thankful that you didn’t have to fumble around too much. It wouldn’t do your argument for more independence any good if your actions showed a need for more support. “Alright…” You’d thought long and hard about how to get your point across to someone as stubborn as your partner, but now that you were here, it was almost a struggle to get your thoughts out cohesively. “I… I’m tired of everyone treating me differently ever since the incident, including you.”

“My dear, I’ve done nothing of the sort.”

“Yes you have!” Forcing a breath through your nose, your efforts to calm your temper are marginally successful as your unintentional fists relax and grip the arms of the chair. “Everyone is treating me like I’m suddenly delicate, like I’m unable to take a punch or take care of myself. True, it’s been hard to adjust to being blind, but I’ll never get better at accepting things if you all keep coddling me!”

“No one is coddling you!” Nightmare growled in return, his voice growing more agitated as he tried to argue against you. “The others are simply doing their part to ensure that you can rest and heal in comfort!”

A growl built up in your throat as well as your partner continued to deny your claims, your fingers digging into the chair to keep them in place. “That comment brings up another thing. Ever since our relationship got out, everyone’s been treating me as if they’re serving me, like I’m something special that needs to be protected.”

“That’s because you are, little moon. You are my chosen partner, and you knew from the beginning that the title would carry some weight. I am a god my dear, and the ruler of any mortal within this castle. But you’re no longer some random mortal. Now you stand beside me, equal to me in power and authority. They have merely been instructed to show you the same respect and care that they show me.”

To hear it spelled out like that, like it should’ve been obvious to you from the beginning, left a lump in your throat. Was this always what would happen to you? Were you doomed to be lonely up at the top with nobody but the god of negativity himself to be your supposed equal? “I… I-I don’t want that…” Your words came out mumbled, eyes burning as your damaged tear ducts tried and failed to produce any tears. When prompted to speak up, you were practically screaming. “I don’t want that! I don’t want to be so… so alone! You might be fine with being above them, but for the longest time, they treated me as a friend! Now, it’s as if our friendships meant nothing, whenever I reach out all I get is coldness. I want to be able to joke and play around with Killer, I want Butcher to call me names and tease me! I want Pyre to rattle on about how great he is, or to spend time reading with Dust! I want to be able to go up to Cross, hug the stupid fluffy marshmallow, and not have him feel like a freaking statue!”

Your yelling left you short of breath, your chest heaving as you calmed down from your emotional tirade. For a while, your heavy breathing was the only sound echoing in the room, shoulders eventually shuddering as tearless sobs broke from your throat. Your own arms wrapped around yourself, as if trying to keep yourself from truly falling apart. What you weren’t quite expecting though was for a pair of cool, slimy arms to join them as Nightmare hugged you as well, the god having moved around the desk while you were distracted with your own emotional turmoil.

“I’m sorry little moon,” he started, one hand gently petting your hair while a tentacle took to stroking up and down your back in a soothing manner. “I grew so used to my underlings being just that, and I never considered what your views on the matter would be. Let me make this clear though, they treat you special because you are special. No other entity in the entirety of the multiverse has made me feel an emotion as positive as love since my childhood five hundred years ago. While many of the worlds out there fear me, and even those that serve me do well to avoid angering me, you had no such hesitation my dear. As we grew closer, you grew bolder. You would speak your mind freely, even if to criticize my actions or leadership. While it was downright infuriating at first, I grew to respect your courage and tenacity, but also the fact that you accepted me for who I am and not what I once was several lifetimes ago.”

As he spoke in such a calm and soothing voice, you felt your breathing settle as you snuggled into his chest. After he paused for a bit, Nightmare’s tentacles quickly scooped you up into the air, allowing him to settle in your chair and place you on his lap. The comforting gestures continued, serving to keep you calm without the use of his abilities. “You are special MC, never forget that. But also remember that you are my partner, and I will see you treated with the same respect as I receive, nothing less.”

You couldn’t help but tense at his words, about to go off again about how that flew in the face of your wishes. But before you could reiterate the entirety of your emotional rant from before, he shushed you with a gentle finger against your lips, and you could practically hear him smiling through his voice. “Your voice is as powerful in this castle as my own, and if things are not to your liking, then let your voice be heard. They are so used to hearing my voice that those idiots assume your voice will speak the same requests… even I made that poor assumption, and for that I am sorry. If you wish for them to treat you as they always have, then you need only tell them and I can promise you that you will receive what you ask for.”

“You… you mean it?” It seemed too good to be true, but Nightmare was often true to his word with you and the other residents of the castle. Still, it felt like it was too easy to simply ask for them to treat you as if you weren’t any different.

“Little moon, I swear it upon my name that you will be treated as you wish to be in this castle.” The dark god nuzzled you a bit as he made his promise, pulling a soft giggle from you despite the dry feeling in the back of your throat. It wasn’t often that you shouted so much, and you were definitely glad that you closed the door on your way in.

Deciding to push your luck a bit, another request found its way onto your tongue. “Then… if I asked you to stop forcing me to have an escort everywhere, would you respect my wishes?”

“MC, you know that I am just doing that to protect you-”

“Night, we’re in your domain, aren’t we? You know everyone who enters and leaves, making this castle literally the safest place for me. I’m getting better at navigating without my eyes, and I really think that I’d be fine!” When he still didn’t sound convinced, muttering about potential accidents that could happen, you merely threw more options at him. “Look, I’m far from the first blind human. If you’re that worried about me bumping into something or falling down the stairs, then get me a… blind person stick? Cane? Or a seeing-eye dog! One that Butcher would definitely not eat!”

“Is… this your way of asking for a dog?”

“Not my intention, but I certainly wouldn’t complain if you did actually get me one that can help me.” Reaching up, you cupped his cheek with your hand, thumb rubbing just under his good eye. “I’ll never have the same freedom as I did Night, but I know that I can learn to live with the consequences of my actions. And don’t you dare blame yourself for what I decided was a good idea in the spur of the moment.” Even now knowing the consequences of your choice, you’d still make the same call a hundred times over again, enduring the pain each time, if it meant that you didn’t have to see the one you loved suffer.

The god of negativity must have felt your conviction, because he didn’t try to talk you out of it or turn the blame around to be on himself. Instead, he merely sighed as one hand came to hold the one on his face, pulling it away to place a skeletal ‘kiss’ against your palm. “Very well, it seems that you’ve convinced me. I seem to have chosen quite the precocious human as my mate, you seem to be naturally born for commanding and convincing others. From now on, you are free to roam the castle by yourself, on two conditions. The first is that we give you a means of contacting me directly, should you find yourself lost or injured alone. The second is that you will still accept an escort for any trips outside of the castle, no matter your past familiarity with whatever world. Do we have a deal?”

Honestly, Nightmare’s requests were completely fair and reasonable. While you did have your phone, it was still extremely difficult to navigate it, and you likely wouldn’t be able to use it reliably in an emergency. If your boyfriend had an alternative method, then it would be good to have the freedom to go wherever, but with the safety net of knowing that someone will come if you need them to. And as embarrassing as an escort might be outside of the castle, it was still smart. It took you quite a bit of time and practice to navigate the castle on your own, despite your past familiarity with it, and a new space would require such with the aid of someone who could see. There was also the fact that, now that your relationship was public, it was only a matter of time before one of the idiots that you called your friends would let word get out. Then, you’d have a target on your back, a weak spot to be used against Nightmare. It was honestly for the best if you didn’t leave the castle alone anymore, not with several capable fighters that could protect you. “Those requests both seem quite reasonable to me, so I accept.”

“Good, I am glad that you can see I only want what is best for you, my dear. Keeping you safe is just as important to me as my goals.” After a moment more of cuddles, he eventually set you back into your chair alone, his footfalls indicating that he was going back to his own behind his desk. “I’ll see to the creation of a totem of sorts, one made of my own magic. It will allow you to contact me and call me to your side, no matter where you are. Between this, and my assurance that you will be treated as you wish to be, have I dealt with the issue you came to speak to me about?”

“Mhm, I honestly feel a lot better too, so thanks. I can’t see it, but I’m sure you’ve got plenty of work to get done. I’ll leave you be so that you can get it finished.” When he didn’t try to stop you, you got up from your seat and wandered back towards the door. Just as you opened it though to step back outside, you turned back and sent him a wide smile. “Thank you for being so understanding and accepting Night, I really appreciate it.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled as the sound of pen scribbling on paper echoed through the otherwise quiet room. “You go enjoy yourself my dear, I shall speak with you again at dinner.” With his dismissal, you left the door in the same barely open position that you originally found it in before heading back to the stairs. It was about time for you to do what Nightmare told you to do and make your voice be heard. Then maybe your friends would go back to how they used to be and stop treating you differently.

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Alright, so if you didn’t read my post earlier this week about getting you readers involved, you can read it here because I’m not repeating myself. (aka I’m lazy XD)

And since nobody commented on that post, it made it pretty clear to me that relying on Tumblr comments isn’t a good idea and that I should go with a poll website. So... here ya go!

https://strawpoll.com/634w9bq42

In the next part, Nightmare will be away running important errands, so MC will have to find some way to entertain themselves! Where they go is up to you, as are the result benefits from your choices. I’ll be looking forward to seeing what you all choose!

First | < Prev | Part 4 (Here) | Next >

[outercrasis]

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: References to sex, masturbation (nothing actually occurs)

Summary: After meeting Mando, you just can’t seem to get him out of your head. (events directly follow Introductions)

A/N: Thanks for the kind reception to the first post of this AU! I’ll be making a masterlist soon for easier navigation :) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future posts or if I’ve missed a warning.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Lingering Impressions

Your day ended up being an exhausting one. Mando had been your most exciting session for more reasons than just the obvious. You'd reviewed the papers of two freshmen, a junior who wanted you to basically write their paper for them, and another graduate student who disregarded every suggestion you made. Needless to say, Mando's gratitude felt extra special after all of that.

Getting home, you're greeted with the welcome smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen as you throw yourself face-first into the couch. The open floorplan of your tiny two bedroom apartment allows Layla to spot you as you wander in.

"Hello to you too!" she calls over. "I'm making chicken marsala."

You lift your head up from the watermelon-shaped throw pillow to smile at her. "You are a saint and I don't deserve you."

"You totally don't," Layla teases back, happily returning to the stove. You flip over on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone while she finishes making dinner. A comfortable silence fills the room, interrupted only by Layla's hums and the discordant sounds of cooking.

Layla has been your roommate since your sophomore year of college, randomly paired together by the dorm sorting system and inseparable ever since. The two of you clicked, a friendship forged over the awkwardness of early adulthood and a shared love of terrible reality TV. Both of you keep busy schedules while pursuing your respective master’s degrees and help each other out where you can. Making dinners for each other is just a part of that.

It’s not long before Layla brings over two steaming plates of food to lay out on your thrifted coffee table. She sits opposite you, preferring to sit on the floor rather than the couch. You’re eager to dig in, groaning at the first bite.

“I’ll take that as a thank you,” Layla grins, tucking into her own meal.

“God yes.”

“Long day then?”

You groan again, this time in irritation rather than pleasure. “Yes. I don’t know how many more know-it-all grad students I can deal with.”

She’s heard all about your nightmare sessions with students that think they already know everything. You’ve questioned more than once why they bother booking the session if they're just going to ignore your advice and decide their paper is perfect as is. It seems like a total waste of time for both you and them. 

Layla sympathizes and shares her own gripes about some of the assholes she's forced to put up with while working on her research project. After all, no group project is complete without the one person who does nothing but acts like they know everything. Giving each other time to vent another small way the two of you take care of each other.

As you think back on your day and sessions your mind inevitably drifts to Mando. He hadn’t been anything like you’d expected. He was kind in his own way and by far the most amenable session you’d had all day. Not taking off the helmet was odd, as was not giving out his real name, but neither of those had really bothered you when it came down to it. If anything, they only serve to fascinate you further.

“Did something else happen today?” Layla asks, a spark lighting up in her eyes. She can always read you, something that can be either a blessing or a curse depending on what it is you're hiding. You take a few more bites before answering, already anticipating her reaction.

“Well I might have also met Mando today,” You try to throw it out there casually, hoping that if you treat it as though it’s not a big deal she’ll follow your lead. You should have known better.

“You what!? Tell me everything,” Layla screeches at you from across the coffee table. She pushes her food off to the side, clearly deciding that your unexpected meeting with campus's resident celebrity is far more important.

"He came in for a session. His paper was really good, it-"

Layla is quick to cut you off. "I literally couldn't care less about that and you know it. Tell me about him, what's he like? Is he terrifying?"

You can’t help but snort at that. You know why she asked of course - the rumors flying around about him getting out of hand these days - but when you think about him now they all seem ludicrous. The gentle way he spoke to Grogu and offered his hand out to the kid before leaving. The sincerity in his voice as he spoke to you, eager to hear any advice you had to give him. No. Mando was decidedly not terrifying. “He’s… just a guy,” you tell her, not really sure how to explain his unique presence.

The eyeroll you receive in response is warranted. “Are you kidding me right now? You probably know more about him than anyone else on campus and you’re going to tell me he’s just a guy?”

You shrug, shoveling another bite of food into your mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you Lays, I only spent an hour with him. He was nice, really sweet with his kid, and I’ll probably never see him again.”

You’re not sure why you feel a quick sting in your chest at that thought. It wasn’t like you knew him well or that he even owed you anything. Considering the fact that you’d gone weeks without so much as glimpsing him on campus you’d probably only have another chance to see him if he signed up for another session and there was no guarantee he’d return.

“So the kid thing is true?” Layla asks.

“Yeah. Really cute kid, pretty quiet.” Very quiet now that you think of it. You don’t have much experience with kids that young, but you’re certain kids Grogu’s age can talk. He hadn’t said so much as a word, only letting out an occasional noise or two. It was odd, but then he could just be shy or something. Another question you’d probably never have an answer for.

“Is the kid his?” Layla presses.

“I don’t know, it didn’t exactly come up while we discussed his paper on unique material applications,” you snap back at her. You wince a little at your sharp reply. It wasn’t deserved. Layla was simply curious and now the victim of your long day and swirling thoughts.

You quickly follow up with an apology. “Sorry. I just- I had a long day and I really didn’t learn much about him, okay?” 

There’s a small sense of relief when Layla nods, backing down from her inquisition. “It’s cool, I get it. Just promise you’ll tell me if you see him again?”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.” 

The rest of the night passes like usual. You wash up after dinner, a fair trade since Layla cooked, and the two of you get to tackling homework that’s begun to pile up with the semester entering its full swing. Nighttime study sessions have been a regular occurrence since your undergrad days and have only intensified while pursuing your respective graduate degrees. It’s more about solidarity and accountability than shared workload, what with your program being in English and Layla’s in Marketing, but it’s nice. Simply having company is better than doing it all by yourself.

Around 10:30 you call it, eyes bleary from staring at your laptop. Layla is deep into a PDF reading so you leave her to her work and shuffle off to the shared bathroom. While the water heats, you brush your teeth lazily, going through the motions of your nightly routine. You test the water with your hand before deciding it’s warm enough to step in.

Your thoughts drift aimlessly as you stand under the hot stream, unfocused until they land back on him. It’s like you can’t help yourself, the way your thoughts have been returning to him all night. You’ve puzzled about him before, but only in the abstract. A hypothetical more than a real person. Wondering if rumors are true isn't quite the same as wondering about the man himself. 

All throughout the night he kept popping up. One moment you would be considering the symbolic use of color in your assigned reading and the next you would be puzzling over Mando’s favorite color. Maybe orange, if his gloves were anything to go by. Layla's favorite song played and while she sang along you couldn't help wondering what kind of music he listens to. Rock probably, or was that too on the nose? As you sipped your drink you wondered what his drink of choice would be, alcoholic or not. Did he even drink alcohol at all? Something told you he wasn’t much for losing his inhibitions.

It's all the little things, all the little details that actually make up a person that no one bothers to speculate about that consume you now. Who cares about his favorite movie or favorite food when you can guess on whether or not he's been to jail?

As you wash the grime of the day from your body, your mind continues to drift further, settling onto the first thing that captured your attention earlier today. His hands. Those gorgeous sun soaked hands, how fluidly they moved across his keyboard. The firm hold of them when he shook your hand.

Eyes fluttering closed, you can't help imagining that it's his hands skating across your skin. You can almost feel the gentle roughness of them, the way he'd squeeze and hold you - tight, but not so hard that it hurts. Almost unconsciously, your hand begins to drift down your body, only to be interrupted by a pounding on the bathroom door. Your eyes snap open, confusion and embarrassment replacing your fantasy.

"Hurry up in there! I need to pee," Layla yells through the door.

You grumble in response, knowing she can't hear you, but quickly finish your shower. It's not quite as relaxing anymore, flustered by your wanton thoughts. 

Getting back into your room, you check your email before setting your alarms for tomorrow. There’s the usual spam from online stores reminding you of limited time deals, a reminder that rent is due next week (lovely), and a couple generic university emails. Your eyes fall to your new tutoring appointment emails and you flick through them mindlessly to clear them out, knowing they’ll all automatically appear on your calendar. 

Just as you’re about to close out of the app and get some well needed rest, a new email pops through. It’s another appointment alert scheduled for next week. You tap to open it and your heart flutters when you read the name on the form. Mando. No need to wonder about if you’d ever see him again now. You’d be seeing him Tuesday at 3 PM. Somehow you know he won’t miss his appointment.

×××××

Din is exhausted. Between Grogu, classes, and trying to find ways to make money, he barely has enough time to do basic functional adult things. Things like showering regularly, eating more than a required minimum of once a day, or heaven help him sleep. 

He wishes he could afford a regular babysitter, allow himself some occasional reprieve but it's not possible. He makes just enough to keep the bills paid and at least Grogu's stomach full. There's also an ever present paranoia about letting a stranger into his home, much less to watch his son. Only Paz and Cara have ever babysat for him and even that was mostly against his will.

Din slumps onto his couch, exhausted from the long day. He’d found the couch on the side of the road. It’s well worn and has a couple holes in it, but it was devoid of fleas, comfortable, and most importantly, free. His helmet is off, sitting on the kitchen table where he’d left it after getting home from campus. He’s mostly used to it these days, but sometimes it can still feel suffocating underneath the custom bucket. Taking it off at the end of the day is always welcome, especially when Din sees Grogu’s eyes light up at his exposed face.

He allows himself just a moment of rest, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the couch. Grogu had finally gone to bed, demanding three stories before he fell asleep and Din not having it within him to deny the requests. A small smile rests on his lips, thinking of Grogu's excitement at his mediocre storytelling. He already loathes the day when Grogu won't ask him to read anymore.

There are about twenty other things he should be doing right now other than sitting on the couch. The apartment hasn't been cleaned properly in weeks, dishes are piling up, laundry needs to be done, he needs to find a job for this weekend, should probably find better daycare for Grogu, has an exam to study for, and a paper to finish writing. He should be doing all of that and more, and yet he can't find the will to move. He stays planted firmly on the couch, letting his thoughts drift. A few different ideas and ruminations swirl around, but his mind settles onto one. Her.

She isn't what he had been expecting. When his professor had recommended a session with a writing tutor he'd been a little miffed at first. Din knew words weren't his strong suit, but he hadn't thought he was that bad. He probably wouldn't have even considered it if she hadn't immediately assured him that it was only a suggestion because she saw potential in his work.

He had still only been considering it, form half filled out, when Grogu had hit submit. He’d looked for a way to cancel the appointment, but couldn’t figure it out with the school’s poorly designed website, so instead he had resigned himself to going. After all, just the one session couldn't hurt and he'd already be on campus.

He thought the tutor would be some irritating know-it-all, pointing out all the mistakes in his paper. Either that, or that they'd be too nervous to make any real criticisms. He’d noticed the way people froze up around him, sometimes too timid to even look in his direction. She wasn't either of those things.

She was all smiles and kindness, not hesitant around him for a moment. Even Grogu took an immediate liking to her, as evidenced by the gift of his frog drawing. Din had more of those than he could count, but very few others had been bestowed the honor of his sacred amphibian themed artworks.

She challenged him in a way he liked, not rude but still forceful. Encouraging him to figure out what it was she was guiding him towards with the paper. Not taking ownership, simply identifying where ideas could be made stronger or clearer. They’d only worked through a few pages in the session and Din already felt more confident in his writing. 

What he liked most though was that she hadn't even asked about the helmet. It was all he heard from those brave enough to speak to him. Where did he get it, why did he wear it, did he ever take it off, what does he look like underneath, and so on. Avoiding all of those questions got to be draining. She didn't even acknowledge it.

She had mentioned the rumors that were apparently swirling around campus about him but that was it. He was a bit grateful for that though, entirely unaware of how popular he'd apparently become. The stares that followed him on campus were hard to ignore, but he didn’t know about their accompanying whispers. He still isn’t sure if the rumors are a good or a bad thing. Her reaction hadn’t given him all that much to go off of. He wishes it had.

That thought stops Din short. Where did that come from? Why did her opinion of him suddenly matter after a single one hour session? Din can’t remember the last time he considered someone else’s opinion of him. Probably when he first brought Grogu home to meet everyone. Now here he is, wondering what his English tutor’s thoughts were about the rumors everyone has been spreading about him. He needs to get out more.

Din shakes his head free, trying to ponder other aspects of his life. Like when he’d be able to get the Razor Crest up and running again. She’d broken down again after only the second week of classes. Paz makes fun of him for riding on such an old bike, but she’s a classic. Din can’t get rid of her, no matter how much she likes to break down on him. In the meantime he could make due with the loaner truck from Peli.

Thoughts of his motorcycle only distract him for so long though. He realizes half-way through the fantasy that he’s imagining taking her out on his bike, feeling her hands clasped around his waist as he rides through the city. The way she’d hang on just a little tighter, pressing herself against his back, as he hits the throttle just a bit harder.

Din sits up on the couch and mutters to himself. “Come on, Djarin. Pull it together.”

She’s beautiful, yes, but to already be fantasizing about taking her for a ride? That’s a bit much. It has been months since Din has seen any kind of action, but he shouldn’t be this desperate after spending only an hour with a pretty face. Still, now that he’s thinking of it, his mind wanders to what she’d be like. 

Would she take charge, calm and in control like she was earlier today? Or would she submit to him, allow him to do whatever he wanted? A small groan escapes Din’s lips at the thought of having her beneath him, begging for him to take her. How she would look spread out on his bedsheets, how sweet she’d taste. He can already imagine how good she’d feel wrapped around him, the way her eyes would look all strung out and cockdumb. It would be a beautiful sight if he’s ever lucky enough to see it.

An alarm Din forgot he set suddenly blares on his phone. He can’t even remember what he set it for as he’s yanked from his lewd imaginings, scrambling to turn it off. There’s a small wave of embarrassment as he registers where he allowed his thoughts to drift. 

Ignoring the uncomfortable pressure in his jeans, Din pulls up the tutoring appointment form on his phone and signs up for another session. There’s an option to select a specific tutor and he’s quick to open it up, choosing her name from the drop down menu. 

There’s nothing wrong about this, right? She’d helped him with his paper and Grogu liked her. She even asked if she’d be seeing him again. That was plenty of reason to have another session. His renegade fantasies had nothing to do with his decision to go back. Din is a man in control of his urges. If anything, this next session would prove that his thoughts were all just fleeting, just a simple result of going too long without anyone in his bed.

.

.

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taglist: @honestly-shite​ @booksarekindaneat​ @wonderless-screwup​ @pinkninja200​ @captain-jebi​ @ajeff855​ @leias-rebelion​ 

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated 💕

[swcetnight]

It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Epilogue (Chapter 20)

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: N/A, mainly fluffy Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

A/N: thank you all so much for reading! I’ve never really done such a full-length fic before so I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. I had so much fun writing it and I’m even working on a spin-off series centered around Steve. I’ll have links to that coming soon (I don’t think it will be available on Tumblr)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

One Year Later

“I don’t know, doll, it seems a little small,” Bucky said as you two wandered around the two-story suburban. 

“Small?” You chuckled. “You got some big plans, Barnes?”

Bucky eyed you. “I got a few ideas, Mrs. Barnes.”

You held up your left hand, your engagement ring twinkled from the sunlight shining into the empty master bedroom. “Future Mrs. Barnes.”

“Close enough,” Bucky shrugged with a ridiculous smirk on his face. You pushed his shoulder lightly.

You two had made some major moves in the past year - you almost couldn’t figure out how you actually got here. It felt like just yesterday you were begging Bucky to retire and now here you two were looking at homes. Engaged. 

Bucky had even gotten a local construction job (they were quite impressed with how much he could carry) and, in a grand moment of impulsivity, cut his hair. He claimed it just made it easier with his job but you felt it held a bit more meaning to him than just that. 

But no matter the reason, you very much loved the shorter look, taking any chance you could to run your fingers through it. Including now, as you two looked around in one of the other rooms of the home. Your realtor had specifically called this one a children’s room. You and Bucky had pretended not to hear that.

“I don’t think it’s horrible,” you said and you did mean that. The home was fine. It was average, what could be expected for a house in the suburbs of the city. It wasn’t so far away that you were out of reach from the others but still gave you guys a fresh start.

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, but it’s not wowing you.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not. Maybe we’ll have better luck with the next one.” Bucky agreed and you two descended the stairs meeting your realtor in the kitchen. That was probably the best part of the house and you hated to watch it go but you weren’t keen on buying an entire home for one room. You explained your situation to the realtor and she agreed. You planned to meet next week at another home she thinks you two would find to be much more suitable. 

You departed shortly after and decided on a little cafe to stop in at for lunch. You ate on their patio, looking out at the suburban landscape. There was a park not too far away completed with a baseball field and jungle gym. A Starbucks sat kiddie-corner from the cafe. It seemed like the perfect area for you two. 

“I can’t believe this,” you mumbled, a bit accidentally. Bucky didn’t miss it. His brows furrowed at your words.

“What can’t you believe?” He asked. “This lunch? The sandwich is really good.”

You smiled. “No, I meant I can’t believe… This. All this. We’re sitting here having lunch, engaged, after looking at a home. This is life right now.”

Bucky nodded, picking at the side salad he had got with his sandwich. “I didn’t expect to be here.”

You didn’t know what to say. He had expressed these beliefs vaguely before but you hadn’t pressed, maybe a little nervous for what he would say.

Bucky continued, “I- When we first started moving forward, I was convinced something would go wrong. It all seemed perfect, too perfect. I thought there was a way I would mess it up or you would realize I’m not actually what you want or - or just something. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I never thought I’d have the guts to propose or you’d have any reason to say yes. I certainly didn’t think you’d want to move in with me permanently after…”

After everything you had seen. You didn’t need him to say anymore. You felt it, you knew it. You also had to admit, it had taken quite a few therapy trips for you to get more stable and confident in your newfound life. As for the dreams… They came and went. Sometimes they were normal, just depictions of Bucky in regular life, but any moment of distress would overshadow them. But it was nothing — absolutely nothing — compared to the violence you had once witnessed. You’d take these times of distress over it any day. You were happy you were getting along. Both you and Bucky had put in work and, so far, it was panning out.

“Bucky,” you said, “I couldn’t have imagined my life turning out any differently than this. This… This is perfect, in the best sense. You’re not going to mess anything up and, well, I guess if either of us does, we’ll get through it. I think we always do.”

Bucky’s eyes began to water but he ignored it and reached for your hands over the table. You allowed, holding him tightly.

“Thank you, doll,” he whispered, “so much.”

You chuckled a bit, fighting back the tears. “Gosh, we really a dramatic pair, aren’t we?”

Bucky matched your amusement, playfully rolling his eyes. “I guess so, but we work.”

“By some crazy, twisted Fate.”

Your soulmate hummed in agreement. “That’s definitely one way to describe it.”

You two shared a laugh then turned back to your meals. Where you two went from here was a bit uncertain. Would you find a home? When would you get married? Would little ones be on the horizon? You didn’t know the answers but you knew you two would figure it out. 

You had your soulmate and he was beyond anything you could’ve ever dreamed of.

[romioneficfest]

Theirs and Ours

Title: Theirs and Ours

Prompt: Day 4 - post-war, kitchen, doll, Ron catches Hermione in a moment of self doubt

Author: 

Summary: Who knew babysitting 4 kids would make Hermione doubt herself and the future of the Weasley-Granger household?

Rating: G

CW: mentions of pregnancy

* * *

The house was a mess. It always was after they had one of the kids over, but today there had been four. Through a comically coincidental series of events, Ron and Hermione had somehow found themselves watching two of Bill and Fleur’s three children, along with Fred the second, and their godson James, all in the same afternoon.

Hermione loved the children, of course, but she didn’t have the same boundless energy and youthful enthusiasm that made Ron everyone’s favorite uncle. And looking after four of them at once made her very glad that Ron had assured her he had no interest in a brood the size of his parents’. She was already nervous enough about the one they were expecting.

It would have been faster to wash the dishes left behind from lunch with magic, but the warmth of the water and the rhythmic scrubbing of doing it the muggle way helped slow Hermione’s racing mind as she replayed the afternoon in her head. Ginny had dropped James off first, on her way to the Daily Prophet to give an interview on the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. He and Fred had been their scheduled charges for the day, and George arrived with him soon after. Then Fleur had burst through the Floo with Victoire and Louis, so distraught about Dominique falling from her toy broom and having to be taken to St. Mungo’s that she explained what had happened in French. Fortunately, Hermione knew enough to get by, and she had sent Fleur on her way to catch up with Bill at the hospital, promising their care of the two blonde-haired children.

Four kids.

Ron had taken it all in stride, of course. He entertained the kids, helped Hermione fix lunch, changed several very stinky diapers of James’ without even blinking...all of it came so naturally to him. Hermione was exhausted even on her best days, the early effects of pregnancy frequently taking their toll. So after spending the day chasing four kids around the house, it was a wonder she was even still standing, really.

She set the last plate in the rack to dry and turned off the water. Ron sauntered into the kitchen then, looking no worse for the wear as he tossed a doll onto the dining table and then poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. “Victoire left that here, remind me to grab it when we head to the Burrow tomorrow.”

Hermione picked it up, toying with the doll’s hair. “Sure thing.”

Ron leaned back against the counter and cocked an eyebrow at her as she sat down, still holding their niece’s doll. “You okay? Want to go have a kip? I know it was a lot today.”

Hermione shook her head. “No, that’s alright. I’m fine. Let’s order in tonight, though, yeah?”

“Whatever you want.” Ron sat down beside her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. He waited a moment and then put his hand over hers, stilling her motions. She knew he could tell something was bothering her but was trying not to press her.

“How do you do it?” she asked softly.

“Do what?”

“It’s so easy for you, with the kids.”

Ron shrugged, trying to play it off. “Sometimes.” When she didn’t say anything else, he added, “It’ll be different with ours.”

Hermione scoffed. “So everyone says.”

“I mean, the good and bad. It’ll all be different. It’s easy to be the fun uncle, hosting tea parties and teaching them to ride a broom. Doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll be a good dad.”

“Yes, you will,” Hermione said firmly. “Me, on the other hand…”

“Hermione—“

“Ron, I wasn’t good with kids when I was a kid. Some might have even called me a nightmare.” She nudged him playfully with her shoulder, and Ron chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her.

“What kind of bloody idiot would do that?” he teased in return. “Look,” he continued, turning serious, “the truth is that I don’t know if it’ll be easier for you with our baby.”

There was nothing comforting about his statement, aside from its honesty. She had heard the same platitude repeatedly—from her mum, Molly, Fleur, Ginny, everyone: wait until it’s yours. Hermione desperately wanted to believe them, but it was just so difficult to fathom. She didn’t take to the many Weasley children the way the others had, didn’t instinctively know how to hold them, or what to do when they cried. Truthfully, she was just waiting for them all to start attending Hogwarts so that at least she would be the go-to resource for homework help. She wasn’t sure what she really had to offer, until then.

“What I do know,” Ron went on, pulling her attention back to him. “Is that we’re doing this together. We’ll be a team, like always.”

Hermione leaned into his side with a content sigh. Ron always knew the right thing to say to her, and she was grateful for his support. “Thank you,” she whispered, tilting her head up to kiss his cheek before resting against his shoulder. Her eyelids were starting to feel heavy, and she thought it might be nice to lie down for a bit, after all. “Maybe we should go have that kip,” she murmured around a yawn. “While we still can, before the baby comes.”

She felt Ron’s lips against her hair as his hand drifted down to her stomach, which was just barely starting to bulge. “I promise to let you have all the naps you need. Even when she comes.”

Hermione lifted her head to look at him curiously. “She?” They weren’t meant to find out for several weeks yet what they were having, and they had only referred to the baby in generic terms so far.

Ron shrugged again and gave her the lopsided smile she could never resist. “Just a feeling.” He stood up and pulled her to her feet. “C’mon. There’s a couch and a blanket in the other room with your name on it.”

[smol-and-grumpy]

To counteract the discouraging messaging you’ve been seeing lately here’s an encouraging one to hopefully help you breathe a little easier!

I only found you about a year ago when you were posting Home To You, an amazing heart wrenching series that perfectly filled my angsty wants.

It’s a little insane that I’ve only recently found you, I’ve been in this fandom since 2012 (oh my god it’s been a decade) and I thought I knew of all of the professional level fic writers (yes you fit that category). So you can imagine my surprise when I happened upon one of your fantastically written fics, a very happy surprise.

This app especially allows us to stay in our own little echo chambers, with the ever slowing number of reblogs and likes it’s even harder to break out of it to find fresh blood but I really REALLY hope that doesn’t disparage your truly natural talent as a story teller.

Take all the breaks you need, go on hiatus if you must, though I do hope you tell us beforehand so we don’t think you’ve died. We are here to support you as a writer, NOT just to support your writing.

I truly understand why you have a patreon, if I had your abilities, I’d try to market them as well. It sucks that being a creative in this world does not sustain a healthy life. And in the future, when the checks are a little more stable, I hope to help you, as well as other writers, continue to create beautiful pieces that keep this fandom going.

Lastly, you’re a fucking work horse. The amount of content you pump out, from gifs and pictures of our beautiful men, to the ever amazing fictitious world you build that I choose to hide away in, is insane. I recently had to write a 6k word assignment and it gave me a WHOLE new appreciation for you all who literally do that like every week, like actually WHAT THE FUCK. I wish I had the stamina, the imagination, the drive to put my thoughts into tangible words on paper and you do it for fun? WTF.

I don’t really know if you’ve ever realized this, but people, literally all their lives strive to do something to be remembered by, to have someone think of them and the things they created fondly. You’ve done something like that to at least one of your followers (me) and I’m sure many others. No matter where life takes you in the future, if tumblr will survive then, if our existence on the internet is actually archived somewhere, there will always be this group of people who will think back to the works you’ve created and smile. Because you have written literal novels, FOR FREE, that other people have consumed, and thoroughly enjoyed. I for one still think about some of the fan fiction I read in my youth that I’ve tried finding again but have had no luck, but either way, I remember the feelings those stories brought out in me.

The world is always going to be chaotic, it’s the nature of our being, but your stories along with other writers, published, unpublished, or self published, have created billions of worlds that we have been able to use as an escape from the chaos. And it’s a beautiful thing.

I hope you continue to use your talent, I hope you continue to share that talent with us; but most of all, I hope you’re happy or on the path to finding it ❤️.

😭😭 I wish I could hug you right now.

Professional fic writer level got me. I am humbled you think that of me, and it left me a bit speechless and misty eyed 🥺

And theeeeeen I went into gross sobbing the further I read on. You have a way with words and I’m really not great at taking compliments, but just know that my day has been significantly better after reading your ask.

To tell you the truth, I’ve been having so much going on in my personal life that it doesn’t leave me a lot of time to write, so when someone said that I wasn’t enough, it really got me. If I would be in a better shape, it probably wouldn’t have bothered me that much.

Honestly, to know that I made a little impact on your life, and that you’ll remember me for my little story, is really what gets me going. It makes all the sweat, the family time I sacrificed and the tears I spilled all worthwhile.

I adore you. Thank you for sending me this, anon

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[lilover131]

Chapter 56 Analysis+Theories

AHHHHHH CHAPTER 56 AHHHHHH!!! <--Chrissy every time a chapter comes out

I wasn’t as hyped up about this one as I was for the last one thankfully, seeing as we didn’t have a super long wait, but I certainly don’t want to diminish in any way the importance of this chapter!!!

I won’t waste any time and will get right to it, so buckle in, cuz’ the theory train is coming! More under the cut!

 So I’ll start by saying that when I first read the chapter, it was 2 AM where I was. I had been sleeping and just kinda magically woke up right when the chapter just came out, so I like to think there was some fate there. But when I opened that chapter on my phone and the first thing I saw was that Syaoran color spread, I audibly gasped and instantly woke up a bit.

 I woke up not because it was absolutely stunning to look at, or even at the fact that we haven’t had Syaoran in a color page for a while. No, the thing that caught my attention was the serious atmosphere it contained and the tone that it seemingly set. To me, this was one of CLAMP’s subtle ways of saying “Prepare for the final battle”. I could be reading into it too much, but I was right about what I believed the Syaoran and Kaito color page insinuated, so I’m gonna stick to my guns here.

 We start off the chapter without a moment’s pause where we left off last time. It continues right from the last point of the conversation where Sakura dropped the bombshell that she had seen Kaito use magic. She seems to think that they may not believe her at first, but Syaoran interrupts her to affirm that he 100% believes her and that he even already knew. Sakura is naturally confused by this, but he finally FINALLY gets to tell her what he’s been dealing with this whole time, and it definitely seems to be an uncomfortable topic for him. But at least this time he got to tell Sakura truthfully that he hadn’t ever intended on keeping this from her but was physically not able to. Despite not needing to feel guilty about this, Syaoran seems uncomfortable for the simple fact that someone else had that much control over him, and he was unable to do a thing to stop it. It’s also important to keep in mind that Kero and Suppi were hearing this for the first time themselves as well (about the silencing at least).

 Not much time passes after this before Kero and Suppi fess up to also knowing about Kaito, but they admit that theirs was a conscious decision rather than force, but that they believe they too would have been silenced like Syaoran was had they attempted to speak. One could say that since they didn’t know Syaoran was silenced in the way he was that this is not entirely truthful or was just a bad decision, but in reality it still makes perfect sense why they thought to be more careful. They saw Kaito’s magic first hand violently take down Eriol, and if he could shut down a magician of that caliber from halfway across the world, then he could easily do the same or worse to the guardians. And since they also weren’t yet aware of his true intentions with Sakura, it would have been likely seen as dangerous to provoke him and possibly put Sakura in harm’s way. I guess the only thing that doesn’t make much sense to me is why Syaoran and the guardians didn’t collaborate and put together what they knew sooner. Even when Yue went to Syaoran’s apartment, the topic of Kaito or Eriol never came up, and since they both clearly had Sakura’s best interest in mind, I’m not sure specifically why they chose to keep their information to themselves when they both knew they had the same goal. This, I would say, was actually a bad decision on their part, but when it comes down to it, they’re not perfect and everyone makes mistakes (I think Cinzia made the same point here, so I apologize if it seems like I’m copying here! I just also agree when it comes to this).

 I’m actually going to pull in a little thing I learned from my counselor not long ago when I felt guilt over a particular decision I had made long ago, and that is that you can only work based on the emotions and information you have at the time. And because we don’t know the future, it is not possible to always make the right decisions, but there is also no telling if our decisions would have changed things for the better, so it is best not to dwell on them. I believe truly that based on what they knew at the time and through the experiences they had, they were likely only trying to protect each other, but missed that they could have probably helped each other. It’s easy to miss things when you’re on the defensive.

 What I love about Sakura after this is that she forgives them immediately. This is not the first time she’s had things hidden from her for her protection, and naturally it’s upsetting to not feel like you can be trusted to deal with the serious information. When Syaoran told her how he’d been hiding what he knew before, she was upset but more because she thought he suffered as a result. This time around though, they concealed things from her not because they were worried about how she’d handle it, but rather out of fear from what Kaito would do if they tried, so it’s a completely different reason and much easier to forgive. Sakura is able to differentiate this, because she is a very emotionally intelligent girl and a lot more observant than she gets credit for when it comes to reading people. She’s grown a lot and isn’t as ‘dense’ as she was in Elementary School.

 Then we get a precious gift of seeing Syaoran show off how smart he is, working out how Kaito managed to make them forget about said confrontation at the botanical garden. He’s probably thought about it a lot already, considering he mentioned before that he felt like someone made him forget something. But this time, he had additional information that Sakura was able to provide, and this was the final piece of the puzzle he needed. The most important detail that Sakura gave him was the location in particular, the botanical garden. He knew that that was where they intended to go, but that they had yet to go there. This prompted him to check his phone and see how much time might have passed without them realizing, and because he knew what time he had arranged to meet Sakura, 9:30 AM, he was able to observe that it was impossible for them to meet, go to the botanical garden, have this encounter with Kaito, and both get back to their houses in only 16 minutes. This meant it was not just a mere meddling of memories but rather time magic as it was the only explanation for the time discrepancy issue and memory loss. I can’t say how freaking proud I was of Syaoran for working this out. He’s such a smart boy, but I know that Sakura also would have been able to come to the same conclusion had she had more knowledge about the magical world. Sakura is running on pure instinct right now, which is super strong, but Syaoran really helps fill in those gaps where things don’t make sense for her, making them the perfect magical team!  

 The scene changes to Momo, who appears to be keeping tabs on the conversation (though it’s unclear if Kaito is aware while they are under Siege). And this part is perhaps the most worrying of the entire chapter, and I’m not talking about the line where the English translation says “Into the final act of your story”. That line in particular is a gross mistranslation cleared up by @meimi-haneoka​, who graciously gives us translation notes each month in comparison to the Japanese version. The actual line in fact says “Into the final act of THE story”. This changes the entire tone of that page as the first translation implies it is leading to Kaito’s death, whereas the Japanese translation actually more implies that we’re nearing the climax of the story. Momo’s facial expressions also match the wording of the Japanese translation better, as we know she does not seem to want Kaito to die, so she would certainly look more upset here if she were speaking of such a thing. Also, I have to speak up about how pretttyyyy Kaito looks in that panel. The way CLAMP designed that page is just stunning as always.

 HOWEVER

 Back to what I was saying before! The most concerning part of the chapter for me is the page right before that, where Momo says “Once a spell’s been seen for what it is, it all comes crumbling down. Particularly, where time magic is concerned. And that’s to say nothing of your target’s considerable power. Now everything you’d turned back time to undo. Everything you’ve succeeded in freezing…is beginning to move again”. So here comes Chrissy’s big crazy theory and possible overthinking, but bear with me here!

I think…that what they are saying here is that these moments that were frozen in time and turned back were cut off from the timeline and now floating in a separate space. And now these scenes, which were all intense in their own way and incredibly frustrating for us, are about to move forward.

….all of them….

….at the same time….

This concept isn’t exactly new in CLAMP series. It happened with Tsubasa where Syaoran turned back time to go back to a moment where he could take Sakura’s hand and keep her from being cursed, and to keep that moment ready until he could return, it was in its own separate dimension, cut off from the rest of the universe. Eventually, once he got there, time started to move forward again. Turning back time is a taboo in the magical world for a reason, and Kaito has done this over and over and over again. But also, wouldn’t it be so like CLAMP to say “Hey, we know you’ve been frustrated that all these scenes were seemingly amping up to a big confrontation, but then Kaito rewound time over and over, so how about we give those back….ALL AT THE SAME TIMMMMEE?”. Can you even imagine the consequences of such a thing? At least three of the occasions where Kaito turned back time, Akiho went into what I call ‘book-mode’, where she is no longer herself and tries to absorb Sakura along with her magic (and even succeeds on one occasion). Then there is also Syaoran and Kaito’s battle and Syaoran having his outburst about Kaito being a magician right in front of Akiho. It would be absolute utter chaos, and honestly I’d be living for it. Lmao.

If you believe that this line Momo said was simply to state that his time magic won’t work anymore and that things will continue to progress in this timeline, that would make perfect sense as well, so I don’t want to discount that. I’m just throwing out theories here based on what I know about CLAMP and concepts that are not out of the realm of possibility.

The scenes from here on out bounce a little bit back and forth from a continuation of the conversation with Syaoran and the guardians and present time with Akiho at school. I kinda like the way they did the transitions here, and it didn’t really feel awkward at any point but rather pulled up the relevant information when it was needed.

When Akiho comes in to the classroom, Sakura recalls how the topic of Akiho came up in the conversation from the day before. It’s natural for everyone to question at this point what she knows and if she is someone to be concerned about too. Syaoran mentions that he can’t detect any magic from her, which was something he had looked into from the very first day Akiho arrived at Tomoeda Middle (he knew literally nothing about her, but you know how transfer students go in this town. Lmao). Sakura drops another bombshell here by saying that she actually senses something in Akiho, but she is unclear of what that is and why she feels that way. It’s completely likely that she’s strong enough now to sense the suppressed magic spell the association and her clan put on her. I also noticed Syaoran seemed to tense up when Sakura said this, and I’m sure that this new information probably made him feel very uneasy. Sakura’s instincts are never wrong, and if she feels something, that means there is something, but to think that it’s something even Syaoran can’t sense would definitely be concerning.

 It is then that Syaoran decides to approach the idea of addressing Akiho directly about Kaito’s magic to see what she knows. Maybe at this point in time he is thinking “If she possibly has some sort of magic in her, then she might know already about Kaito”, but like Sakura, he has seen Akiho’s behavior as a person and probably believes that she is not doing anything malicious of her own accord. Perhaps he thinks that Akiho might be able to talk some sense into Kaito and put a stop to things. But the way he goes about it doesn’t push Sakura, but rather just offers it as a suggestion as something a bit more direct.

 Before we see Sakura’s response to this, we are back to Akiho in the classroom and she is very cheerful from having gone out with Kaito the day prior, and OMG CAN I JUST GUSH FOR A MOMENT ABOUT HOW FREAKING PRECIOUS SHE IS? She is seriously adorable, and the more I see her smile, the more it makes me want to burn her whole clan down to the ground for being so awful to her. But also, it reminds me how strong she is to have gone through everything she did and still smile and hold no hatred in her heart. I can’t honestly say I would be the same in her shoes, so it’s really admirable. For those My Hero Academia fans out there, remember Eri’s smile? You know the one I’m talking about. That’s how I feel every time Akiho smiles.

Anyways, back to Sakura’s response. She decides, in a very Sakura-like fashion, to avoid the subject with Akiho for now. It is true that they don’t fully understand who Kaito is and what his intentions are, but the one thing she does know is that he is considered precious to Akiho, and that at least says something about his character. Akiho herself also isn’t an idiot and is perceptive to Kaito’s feelings. Even when he’s smiling, she can tell when he’s actually hurting inside, so if he had bad intentions at all, that likely wouldn’t go unseen either, so Sakura decides that she’ll wait for Akiho to come to her first if the discussion between them needs to happen. I think this is a very mature decision on her part but also continues to show how much she considers the people around her and cares for them.

Back in the present, Akiho apologizes for talking so much, and Sakura tells her that she doesn’t mind and will listen to whatever she has to say. More than just trying to show good will as a friend, I think this is also her way of opening up the door to tell her “If you want to talk about more serious things, I’m here to listen as well”. That way, when the time comes, Akiho will feel comfortable having that conversation with her.

The scene moves on to Yukito’s home where all the guardians are having a nice little get together in their true forms. It’s not entirely necessary for all but Yue to do this, but I love it as we haven’t gotten to see much of them in these forms in the series so far, especially Spinel and Ruby Moon. Ruby Moon is surprised that they decided to go along with what Sakura said, which I suppose makes sense considering they’ve been kinda doing their own thing up until now. But it turns out that it was Syaoran who made the final decision, and the others just took his lead.

 I love that Syaoran was so comfortable just trusting Sakura and realizing that this time, they needed to let her make some choices, especially since it concerned her the most. Moreover, I love that Kero, Suppi, and Yue just basically caved when Syaoran agreed. This shows how much they respect the opinion of not just Sakura, but Syaoran too. They could have easily gone off and continued to work secretly without Sakura, but they didn’t do that. It obviously didn’t work well for them before anyways.

 I cracked up when Ruby Moon mentioned how much Syaoran has grown a lot and used to be a ‘pouty brat’ back when they were in Japan the last time (in his defense, Eriol was screwing with him a lot, so he had a lot of good reasons for the bratty attitude. Lmao). But Kero and Yue’s responses are just precious. They both have the same expression initially, but their actual responses seem to differ quite a bit. Kero states that he will always be a brat to him and that he’s only grown ‘a little’. This is classic Kero essentially saying he agrees that he’s grown a lot, but he won’t admit it yet, hence why Spinel calls him childish. Hahahaha.

Yue’s response however makes me absolutely melt. He states he’s not upset about the mention of Syaoran’s growth, but that that he doesn’t think they “should be in such a hurry to grow up”. He sounds just like a freaking dad here who is happy to see his children grow up, but is also wanting to them to slow down and stay children simultaneously. I am absolutely living for it, and I love seeing how soft he gets when it comes to them. -squeals-

Despite how lighthearted this scene is, I’m gonna put out another theory here that might seem like I’m overthinking and perhaps makes this appear a bit darker than possibly intended. My thought was “Why did CLAMP put such focus on this subject right now?”. They could have simply stated that they decided to go along with Sakura and been done with it, but the made a point to talk about the children’s growth as human beings, particularly Syaoran. Now where am I going with this you ask? Perhaps it’s the Tsubasa PTSD speaking, but when CLAMP has dialogue like this, it usually it done quite purposely at times, because it is meant to enhance our emotions when a particular moment comes later on. So when I thought “Now, why would they be talking so much about how Syaoran’s grown emotionally and how much Kero and Yue care about him?”. I think they are trying to emphasize how much people in general care about him. CLAMP showed it again recently with Touya, who threatened Kaito and purposely included Syaoran in his statement, and again when Kaito pointed his staff at Syaoran and Sakura reacted. CLAMP is pointing out right now how much people care about Syaoran, and I think this is once again a signal that something bad is going to happen to Syaoran, and I think it’s going to be soon.

 Now, Cinzia actually recently found my reaction to spoilers of chapter 1 of Clear Card (that’s right, chapter 1 from all the way back in 2016), and from the very beginning, I have been screaming at the top of my lungs that I had the worst feeling that something bad was going to happen to Syaoran. I imagine some of you are probably tiring of hearing it from me. Lmao. So here we are, 55 chapters and numerous bad dreams later, and I finally feel like that time is really really close. I’m calling it right now that it will probably happen within the next 4-5 chapters, and if I’m wrong, I will eat my words, but them even putting Syaoran on the color page all by himself for this chapter gives me more reason to think that “that time” is approaching.

 That is a good transition for me to talk about the last part of this chapter. We are finally getting some progress on this play Naoko has been writing, and the moment she mentioned it was about “Twin Alices”, I thought to myself “this is going to be where the climax happens”. The pieces are coming together for it, and we’ve finally gotten to hear the premise of this play. We all knew Naoko would ask Sakura and Akiho to play the main roles, but it’s unclear what the role she wants for Syaoran will be when she inevitably peer pressures him into it. Lol. But I’m telling you, I really think this play is where shit is going to hit the fan and we’ll finally get some real answers.

I can’t wait to see what happens from here on out, but it’s very clear to me that things are just going to get more and more intense from here on out!!

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #17

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

[AO3]

*In this house we stan string theory and multiple dimension theory *Also, this chapter gets a little preachy, and delves more into my interpretation of the series so to make up for it I made a lot of art.

~POV Sinbad~ "If you're willing to talk about the future, does that mean you are finally ready to explain about those calamities you mentioned in Balbadd?" When Ja'far cut in he was in a rush; he didn't want to miss this chance. Sinbad had underestimated Ja'far's concerns; he had been too preoccupied with the Prophet. All the same, "I don't know if this is the time for that conversation. This is Mori's first meal with everyone after all." Wait. He knew that look. Ja'far wasn't actually asking to have that conversation now. He was pressuring Mori so she would have to agree to tell them soon. "I'm fine. I made a promise and I intend to keep it. As long as everyone else is willing to talk seriously for a few mins, I don't see the problem." Mori was wearing the same stern expression she had the morning of the coup in Balbadd. When Ja'far had cut in with his request he could have tried to sound a little nicer but it didn't warrant the cold response Mori gave in return. There had been rising tensions between Ja'far and Mori since Balbadd, but both seemed to get along most of the time. "Wait really? You're agreeing this easily?" Ja'far's shock also spoke for the King. She obviously didn't want to talk about the Calamities even when she promised to tell them, so why now? "A promise is a promise." Mori almost felt like a completely different person compared to the coy way she was teasing them all just moments ago. "Besides, this will just continue to be a point of contention until I explain."

--- King Sinbad was finally eating with his Generals and Prophet, but this was nothing like he had planned. Mori sat straight with both hands on the table interlocked. "The 1st of the 2 calamities occurs in about 2 years. As you know, there's a few countries that currently have rising tensions." Which countries? The Kou and Riem were prime contenders since they were already Empires causing trouble for other countries. There was also Magnostadt which has been becoming increasingly hostile to other nations, and seemed to be encroaching on the Kingdom of Actia. "In 2 years, 3 of them are going to go to war. A massive amount of black Rukh will be released, and the same type of magic used to make the Dark Djinns will be used to make a humanoid monster the size of a mountain." Of course, Al Thamen would be involved. "The amount of black Rukh it will have will make it a Medium for opening a black spot and letting Ill Ilah connect to the world which is Al Thamen's ultimate goal. Once Ill Ilah connects it will destroy all of the white Rukh in the world -bringing death." It sounded just like what Falon had described as her plan all those years ago. The same thing that happened in Parthevia a decade ago is going to happen again in only 2 years? "The Medium is destroyed before that can happen thanks to all of the current Metal Vessel users and assimilated Household Members coming together to destroy it. The world is saved but in the process one of the Magi will have to commit one of the ultimate taboos of this world. That taboo is what will eventually lead to the 2nd Calamity. If King Sinbad and the Metal Vessel users of the Seven Seas Alliance, which were the last to arrive, can show up sooner then that taboo and the 2nd Calamity might be something that can be fully avoided especially since I already know the Medium's weakness." It was clear that Mori knew more. Sinbad would have to talk to her about it later; he wasn't sure how much he wanted to talk about this tonight -they were supposed to be celebrating and getting to know each other light heartedly. However, there was one question he couldn't hold back from asking. "What is this taboo?” Mori sighed like she had expected that question. She looked to the ceiling. "Honestly, I didn't want to think it was a taboo when I first learned it, but after seeing what happens I get it now." She looked back at them. "I hope you can accept me not telling what it is. I don't want to even try to explain the 2nd Calamity because I'm not sure how without explaining the taboo. You see, the taboo involves information, so if I explain it to you I will be committing the taboo myself. I can only hope that the world isn't endangered because I know it." The air in the room felt thick. All of the Generals were waiting for his decision. Sinbad tried to read the Prophet's expression. It was serious, and determined; it seemed like fear and remorse were hiding right under the surface. What information could be dangerous on its own? "Alright," he agreed. "We don't want to take any unnecessary risks. However, if we are unable to prevent the taboo from being committed you will explain the 2nd Calamity." Mori attempted a half-hearted smile. "I was already planning to do that." She glanced around at the Generals. "Are there any other questions?" Sharrkan grumbled. "This is all really complicated stuff." "Yeah. Pretty scary, huh?" Pisti agreed. Drakon and Hinahoho were sharing a look while thinking.

"You still haven't told us where this is going to happen." Ja'far decided he would ask the next question. "Are you withholding that information on purpose?" Mori's expression was blank. "I'll tell you the countries involved after King Sinbad returns from the Kou Empire. I don't want to influence how the negotiation goes by giving him too much information he wouldn't normally have. I'm doing this for Balbadd..." Mori withholding vital information was the entire cause of Ja'far's distrust of her. "You took too long to tell us what was going to happen back in Balbadd, remember? If we know what their next target is then we can stop it before it ever happens." "The 1st Calamity has nothing to do with Al Thamen." "What?” that question was asked by all except the Prophet. Mori explained, "That country has refused contact with them and been building towards this for the past 10 years all on its own. All of the Black Rukh that has been accumulated there is like a trap waiting to be set off. The people currently in charge are not people who would be willing to accept change, or to listen to the arguments of the people here." That definitely narrowed it down. Riem was already having meetings with them, and it was only a matter of time before they formed an alliance. They already had the peace treaty with the Kou, and King Sinbad was about to go negotiate with them for Balbadd. That only left Magnostadt as the center of the conflict -the country they knew had increasing disparity between it's upper and lower classes. Mori was staring at him. He wasn't the one she was actually hiding this from. Since it didn't seem to be an avoidable Fate, she was preventing Yam from learning the Fate of her home country for as long as possible. Mori was trying to be considerate. "How is that possible?” "If they aren't behind it then how could such a thing happen??” Mori gave a sad smile. "It would be so much easier if all of the bad things in this world really were all caused by that organization. I had wrongly thought that was how this world works in the heat of the moment back in Balbadd, but I know better. I've read this world's Fate after all. Even in this world it is a mistake to hold onto the hope of total altruism too strongly." It almost felt like she was calling them all naïve with that last statement. She looked down at her hands. "Sentience, experience and free will make us all imperfect. All people are shaped by their past and everyone has a vice. There will always be people who think they are above everyone else, people who think they are right because of their feelings, people who think that they deserve something just because they want it or that they can do something because it is available to them," she looked back up and made direct eye contact with her King, "people that think that their luck or privilege is a sign that they were chosen by Fate, that they are the only one who can do something because they are special and that that means they are righteous and their failings mere stepping stones when in reality they are all normal people just like the rest of us." ///She knows nothing about being a Singularity. There's no greater proof of being chosen by Fate!/// Since the Fall of First Sindria, Sinbad had been hearing a voice periodically. It was like stray thoughts -many were opinions he didn't really have. The fact that the voice felt the same as him in this made a pit form in his stomach.

Mori gestured at him and continued. "Even his Majesty being a 'Singularity' is only something rare. You aren't the first, and you won't be the last. You know I can read the waves of Fate as well, so it's obviously not the type of thing that you or Al Thamen makes it out to be. There is no 'chosen one.' No one is immune to human fault or failing. 'Fate' is the history of how all of our decisions affect each other.” It was like she was reading his thoughts. There were other Singularities? Mori could also read the waves but- The waves in the room were over flowing. This was greater than when Mori changed things in Balbadd. They were far off topic now, but this was more important. ///She doesn't understand anything. I've read Fate!/// Those stray thoughts hated Mori and how she was changing things since the beginning even though when Sinbad read the waves around her he liked the direction they were going. Her waves wouldn't stop him from reaching his dream. If that voice was this against what she was doing then he had to know more. "Mori, please tell me, what makes you so sure? You say you've read Fate; how can you say there isn't a grand plan? Can you really deny that the Rukh guide us?" Would they have to agree to disagree? Was this something he could afford for the Prophet of his own country to not see his way? She watched him and the Generals as she thought. "There is a 'plan,' but it isn't absolute. I read more than one 'Fate' for this reality. If Fate was already fully decided then in Balbadd Judar would have defeated all of you instead of being crushed by Ugo, and Cassim would have married Princess Kougyoku instead of dying, but that didn't happen, now did it? When I read Fate, I read how it was changed from it's original design by the people of this world. And as I've already said, I couldn't be here if everything was already decided.” ((these are things that are said to be in the og draft of Magi, but got changed when actually making the scenes)) They had been changing Fate's course before Mori arrived? Was that even possible? Mori wasn't the type to lie out right over something like this. Between her demeanor and the waves, he could tell she wasn't lying. He had to know where this new path was leading and asked an obvious question. "Isn't it just as likely that those 'changes' were supposed to happen?" Mori scowled at that. "Anything is true somewhere. There are infinite realities where any Fate is true. Every moment infinitely more form to account for every possibility -every decision, and unexpected change, even an asteroid coming and destroying the planet. If you can imagine it, it is reality somewhere." Sinbad had read Fate in the waves, of course he knew about there being other possibilities. Were there really other realities where he had followed one of the other paths? Mori didn't wait for him to comment. "There's no way to know which destiny or Fate we are following until it's already happened. Being able to read the waves has helped me narrow it down to 2 or so of the Fates that I read for this reality, but it can't account for everything. Since I can't read my own Fate I can't know how my presence will affect things." Mori continued, "When I read this reality's Fate, I learned how it functions on a fundamental level. Everything is made up of Rukh and is dictated by the Rukh and magoi. The Great Flow of the Rukh 'guides' the living but it is also affected by the wants and desires of the living. It sees all those wishes and creates opportunities for people to realize those dreams based on how many want that dream to become real. But it's still up to the living how they react. The Great Flow creates opportunities and makes suggestions, but it can't make your decisions for you. And" Mori paused while looking for the right words, "and the more magoi directed at a certain wish the more likely the Great Flow will try to help." Mori waited for them to absorb the meaning of her words. That meaning made Sinbad nervous. If she wasn't lying... Drakon broke the silence. "That would mean that someone with

a lot of magoi would have a greater affect on the Great Flow." "It does." Mori confirmed. Was that really how the Great Flow of the Rukh worked? How Fate worked? Mori stayed silent again, reading them as much as they were reading her. The waves were still high. Yam was the next to comment. "I know the amount of magoi a person has defines how strong of a magician they can become, but it sounds like those born with a lot of magoi also have an amazing privilege when it comes to the Great Flow." "Exactly." Mori agreed. "The people that Fate seems to favor aren't chosen by Fate or particularly special. They are born lucky just like those born rich." She paused. "All Dudgeon Capturers have an above average amount of magoi. A Djinn won't select a King that doesn't even have enough magoi to use their power. The more Djinns a person has, the more magoi they need to have. King Sinbad, you were born with a rare ability, and the equivalent magoi of a large city or small county -even before all that Rukh merged with you in Parthevia. If you didn't, there would be no reasons for the Djinns to cut you off from trying to capture more Dungeons." "What?" Sinbad's question slipped out of him in an airy gasp. He knew he had more magoi than average, but this would make him no different from those that grew up as royalty thinking that they were inherently better than their poor subjects. He wasn't sure if he could believe her, but the waves of Fate had never lied to him. The Prophet's waves were overwhelming the space, encouraging him to believe her. It was obvious how this information would change things. King Sinbad had more than the waves, he also had a sharp intuition. There was something hidden in her words. Some truth about his future that she hadn't told them yet. Even if he had been intentionally given these privileges by Fate, Mori had already stated that his decisions were his own. When Mori had said there were people that conflated their privilege with a righteous roll given by Fate it definitely included him. But if he wasn't chosen by Fate, if they had been changing Fate all along, then what was what happened in Parthevia or Riem? Mori's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Not being chosen by Fate and everyone having free will is a good thing if you ask me. It means when someone chooses to do right by others it is because they chose to, not because someone is forcing or directing them. I like to think that everyone thinks they are doing the right thing, and only act out against others because of strong emotions and ignorance. The cure for most negative emotions is a stable environment ((including medication for those who need it)) and the cure for ignorance is education. These are things that Sindria and the Seven Seas Alliance are able to provide. "All of you are using your privileges and talents to help people, and to bring peace to the world. Regardless of whatever mistakes you made in the past, this country and the current state of the world are a direct result of your choices. These choices you've all made are even more admirable because you made them on your own. Isn't that why so many have sided with Sindria already? It's also one of the main reasons I chose to become Sindria's Prophet in the first place. With your help, we can greatly reduce the disparity of this world and raise the quality of life for everyone." Her smile was soft and confident. Mori's waves overtook his own.

The King had a thought that shook him, but it was Hinahoho that asked it, "You didn't just tell us some of the taboo information, did you?" "What? No." Mori was shocked by that question. "His Majesty and others would have figured this out all on their own in about 5 years -not to mention those that already know it." He could try to deny it, return to the path he was on, but he would know deep down that she was right. And apparently, he would figure this out in the future anyway. There was no reason to hold himself back then. He could see that now -there was no going back. This was one of the changes he had felt in her waves from when he first met Mori. ///How can she say such foolishness?? This woman must die before she ruins everything!!/// A chuckle slipped out of Sinbad. That voice really did hate his Beautiful Prophet. His waves were changing. He was changing. But he still had the same dream: to create a world without war or poverty. Mori's goal was to remove disparity. Even their goals worked well together. Why had he been so sure that being a Singularity made him some special chosen one? When had that started? It was members of Al Thamen that had told him that. They were the enemy yet he still believed their manipulation so completely. Sinbad knew why deep down. If he was chosen by Fate then his actions would be righteous and the awful things he experienced were stepping stones. Like a child learning to take responsibility and step out of the shadow of their parents, in this too he would have to take ownership for his place in the world. He would be thinking about this a lot in the coming days. All of this information was invaluable. Why did Mori choose to follow him if she knew all this? There was no way she didn't know how he viewed himself and the world before this conversation or the mistakes he had made. Was it thanks to opportunities that the Great Flow gave him that he was able to seduce her to his side? No. Mori already knew what was going to happen. She knew the future more clearly than what the waves could show. She knew him and his methods as well. She knew that the Kou Fleet had been on it's way. That meant Mori would have been deciding where she wanted to go and weighing her options from the beginning. Mori made her decision, gave him a slow drip feed of what she was capable of, and made sure each request he had of her was given a price. She wasn't just withholding her help due to a lack of trust; she was leading him to make the best possible offer. She knew that he would try to bring her to his side if he knew her value. He had played into her hands not the other way around. Why didn't this realization upset him? This new information wasn't going to stop him from achieving his dream. In fact, now that he had a better idea of how the Great Flow worked he could consciously use it to his advantage. He got what he wanted and it was mutual -not simply Fate. They both wanted this. This was making him excited. The smile on her face was one he recognized. He had worn it when he was young whenever he had convinced others to his side. Mori was cut from the same cloth. She had agreed to have this conversation not just because of Ja'far's insistence; she was after the opportunity to clear up his misunderstanding about Fate. ((plz ignore that I forgot to draw my freckles in most of the shots and am too lazy to fix it.))

[something-tofightfor]

Magnetic: Introduction - It’s All Very Complicated

Pairing: None, yet. 

Word count: 3,565

Rating: None, really. Yet. Some mentions of sex, general angst. This is truly an introduction. 

Summary: Welcome to the Academy, where trained and capable Jedi work to teach the Force-sensitive how to best manage and utilize their abilities. Though you live there, you’re no longer training, and one of your main responsibilities is providing companionship and understanding to the newest Padawan: Grogu.  You’ve got a past, sure ... but is that past going to shape your future? 

Author’s note: 

This is the “sequel” to T’ad nac or’atu (Two No More) - and takes place about a year after Grogu left with Luke, featuring a female reader insert. There will be spoilers from seasons 1 and two of The Mandalorian throughout. If you didn’t watch the show, this won’t make much sense to you. 

I’m terrified to post this, I’m gonna be honest. Even though this is a general introduction to this series, and I’m well into writing it ... it’s still scary. I’m very thankful to the people that have provided me with feedback, honesty, support and have offered to read parts of this for me. 

This is going to be the shortest part by far, but I didn’t think that an 8,000 word introduction was the right call. 

I hope you enjoy it. Feedback - both positive and critical - is always welcome. 

(banner made by the absolutely talented @malionnes)

Before your eyes had even opened, and even though you were still half asleep, you sensed that someone was in the room with you. Again? Blinking, you let out a slow breath, giving your eyes time to adjust to the dim glow from the panel next to the door as the dream you’d been having slipped away, dark brown eyes and a cautious smile the only things you could remember. The room was silent, aside from the low hiss of cooled air through the vent, but then after a few seconds, you heard a quiet thud at the foot of your bed followed by a nearly inaudible whine. Again. “C’mere, Gr - kid.” 

 The blankets shifted with the added weight as he tugged on them, and you clutched the top edge to keep them from slipping off of you entirely while he climbed. Too cold for that. In the low light, you saw the curved top of his head and his sloping ears appear first, quiet coos accompanying them. Hey kid.

 It didn’t happen every night, but at least three times a week, the little guy found his way into your room and into your bed, nesting right next to your upper body, your arm curled loosely around him as you both nodded off. “Couldn’t sleep again?” He moved more swiftly over the blankets, and it didn’t take long for his face to pop up right next to yours, mouth opened slightly, his massive eyes focused on you. No. 

 Lifting the corner of the blanket with one hand and groaning at the slight chill of air it allowed to enter the previously covered space, you paused as the kid dove beneath it, letting the material fall again as you felt him lay down next to you, more babbling noises a sign that while you were still on the edge of sleep, he was wide awake. “You could just knock, bud. It would be…” No knock. Too loud. “Fine.” You weren’t annoyed with him - not really - and despite the numerous ongoing middle of the night intrusions, you knew you’d never tell him to stop coming into your room. Keeping me from being lonely, little guy. Hope I’m doing the same for you.

 It had been happening since shortly after the youngling arrived at the Academy and you were introduced. The first few times, you’d been quick to scoop him up, carrying him back to his room and  tucking him into his bed before telling him that he had to stay put. While you didn’t have all the details about Grogu’s past, you knew that it had been a lot more unconventional than that of the other students and Masters, and that he wasn’t used to such a routine - or being alone at night. None of us were before we got here. 

 But he’d been subjected to more difficult times than you could imagine, and although you got glimpses of them through his thoughts, much of it was still hazy - as if he was trying to keep his early years a secret, hidden from everyone - even himself, but especially you and the other adults at the Academy. And you’re gonna make sure it stays that way, aren’t you. Absently, you stroked the back of his head, feeling the wrinkled skin beneath your fingers, along with the soft edge of the top of his sleeping robe.

 He’d come back with Master Skywalker, straight from a dangerous confrontation with Imperial remnants on a light cruiser, and you’d quickly learned first hand that he was powerful with the Force - although uneducated and undisciplined in the ways of the Jedi. Prior to his rescue, a Mandalorian bounty hunter was responsible for his care, and that had been the case for almost a year, which added to the child’s lack of control and discipline. But it’s not his fault, it had to be that way. 

 The Mandalorian had done his best, keeping the kid as safe and as secure as possible for as long as possible. But the Empire finally caught up with them, leading to the kid’s current situation - separated from the people he’d spent a great deal of time with and studying under capable and trained Jedi. It had to be… hard. Yes. You glanced down, but could only see the side of Grogu’s face, his ear folded against the pillow beneath his large head. It is. 

 At the unusually candid response to your thoughts of his previous life, your tired mind turned back to the Mandalorian, eyes drooping shut. You’d also caught glimpses of him through Grogu’s thoughts; a tall and broad-shouldered man, covered nearly head to toe in gleaming beskar and a flowing cape, a sizeable helmet perched atop his shoulders and obscuring his features completely. Through Grogu’s eyes, you saw the man as imposing and to be feared, dangerous, though Grogu himself hadn’t ever been afraid, even in the beginning. You saw the weapons he carried; a huge rifle, a weighty blaster, even a flamethrower attached to his wrist along with a sleek, shining spear made of the same material as his armor. Not only could you see them in your mind, you felt the same sense of pride that Grogu felt when he watched the man wield them in the memories. He was the right person to protect you, kid. 

 You’d never met a Mandalorian before, but had researched them in the Jedi texts and other history books, learning of their ferocity and belief systems, which differed depending on their specific clans and Tribes. “It’s all very complicated, hmm?” You whispered the words, a smile on your lips as you pressed them gently to the back of the child’s head. He cooed again in response, but you felt that his mind was beginning to settle, his three-fingered grip on your forearm loosening. “It had to be a lot for you to understand, right kid?” The Way.

 You felt the weight of the words from his thoughts, another slow, heavy breath leaving you, but the sadness Grogu knew when thinking of the man quickly changed into a happier emotion, and you closed your eyes, too, concentrating on his shifting thoughts. He was nearly twice your age, but Grogu was - for lack of a better description - still a child, and although he’d grown much stronger in the months he’d spent training at the Academy, his emotions were still much more volatile than the Masters would have liked. But it happens differently for everyone.

 That volatility made it easier to read him even when he wasn’t focused on communicating with you, and while you knew that some of the other students seemed to fear the little green creature and the strength he radiated, you’d never felt the same, even though you knew that he knew when you were prodding at his thoughts - and he was more than capable of making you stop. 

 It wasn’t because you were prying; in fact, it was the exact opposite, and you’d spent countless nights like this one before, connecting with the kid as a way to calm him, giving him a chance to remember and share his earlier life with someone that was willing to listen. You helped him drift off to sleep by sharing space in your own mind with him, despite the fact that even the most untrained Padawans could tell that Grogu’s mind was often troubled - and that he’d seen and been a part of things that most of them couldn’t begin to imagine. “Sleep well, kid.” You murmured the words, feeling Grogu’s fingers tighten once more before they relaxed almost completely. 

 He fell asleep before you, and the last thought that you had before you followed him into sleep was of yellow-gloved fingers curled around a smooth silver ball, one of Grogu’s small hands outstretched toward it. 

 --- 

 He was gone when you woke up the following morning, and despite the middle of the night interruption, you felt refreshed and awake as soon as you opened your eyes. I usually do after he’s here. 

 It was a strange relationship you had with the kid, but it worked, and you knew that along with being good for Grogu, it helped others focus elsewhere, so you were happy to continue. At least until his training’s done, and he rises in the ranks. Or… until I leave.

 You blinked into the mirror, brushing your teeth. Him becoming a Knight was a looming possibility; every Padawan’s training lasted a different amount of time, and one of the other things that you knew about Grogu was that he’d had prior training - meaning that even with his lack of constant focus, he was far more capable of using the Force than most of the others within the Academy at his classification level. He was strong and smart - but still learning to control himself. Just a kid.

 That didn’t mean that he was good at it all the time, or that it didn’t tire him out immensely when he overdid things, but the Masters spoke of him as though they already knew that when he became a Master himself, he’d be a formidable adversary when and if it became necessary. We’re still a while off from that, though. He’s still little, he’s … Spitting your tooth gel out, you straightened up, adjusting your shirt over your shoulders and glancing back at the door of your room as a new set of thoughts made themselves known to you. Bari’s coming. 

 You couldn’t help it sometimes, finding yourself unable to block out the thoughts around you - especially when emotions ran high, and it was the reason that your training had been halted. One of them, anyway. Rubbing a hand over your face, you turned away from the mirror and slipped your shoes on, striding to the door and opening it before the young man had a chance to knock. “Morning, Bari.” He looked shocked at your greeting but quickly recovered, nodding his head and greeting you by name, lips curving upward into a large smile. He’s happy to see me… as always.

 “Hey. Can I walk you to breakfast?” Nodding in agreement, you stepped into the hallway and stayed next to the man, turning toward the dining hall. “You look like you slept well.” 

 “Yeah, I did.” You nodded in greeting as you passed others in the hall, taking a deep breath. “The kid ended up in my room again, and once he was there, I was out.” 

 “Grogu? Isn’t he a little old to -” Stiffening, you glanced over, watching as Bari eyed you. “I mean he’s been here for a year, he should have let go of -”

 “They… his kind age different, Bari. And since there’s no record of what he is, we don’t know …” You bit your lip. “He’s a kid that had to leave his dad, and it’s only been a year. He might be fifty human years old, but who knows what that equals out to in his species.” You swallowed as you reached the dining hall, eyes sweeping over the room as you looked for Grogu. I bet he’s not here. I bet he’s with … “Besides, it’s not like he’s interrupting anything, so if it makes him feel better to sleep in a room with someone?” You reached for a tray, once again looking at the man next to you. “It’s fine with me.” 

 He was silent for a few minutes as the two of you loaded up your trays with food, and you could tell that he was conflicted. Say it, whatever it is. “What if there was someone else in your room? Would he -” 

 “I think he’d understand, Bari.” You slid into a seat at an empty table, reaching for a piece of fruit. “He’s not stupid, just … young.” You chewed thoughtfully, feeling as Bari’s emotions raced. He’s going to do it again. Ask me … “Why, who do you think that he’s going to -”

 “You know that since you’re no longer training that the rules technically don’t apply to you, right?” He leaned in, eyes locked on yours. “You’re allowed to… I could … we could.” 

 “Bari.” You closed your eyes. “I know that you …” You glanced up. “It was my decision to stop training, and the Masters were generous enough to let me stay here anyway because they thought I could help.” You knew that it was rare, but also knew that any sensitivity toward the Force was looked at as an asset post-Empire, and turning you away wasn’t anyone’s first option. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to do anything to -” 

 “I know, I know.” You felt the frustration from him, and understood it. Bari had befriended you almost immediately upon your arrival to the Academy years earlier before it was even a shadow of its current self. You’d met him in the town a few miles away from the building, the young man providing a friendly face when you felt lonely at first, and then someone to talk to during breaks and on days off after you officially began your education. He was simply employed within the building, and despite it being unconventional for Padawans to closely befriend those not in the program, you were drawn to the boy, his honesty and openness welcome after separating from your family in the manner that you had. “But maybe just -” 

 “Bari, come on.” You shrugged, lifting your fork and using it to cut into a piece of your omelette. “We’ve talked about this. Us… It’s better to keep it the -” You felt it - for the first time in him, anger at your rebuff, but it quickly changed to forced nonchalance, and you were able to keep your expression even, too. That’s interesting. 

 “Someday, you’re going to leave the Academy. Even if it’s only to settle somewhere close by.” Bari leaned in, his eyes wide. “You won’t have to follow their rules all the time, and then you can … maybe you won’t still feel…” Not with you. Not … I’m sorry, Bari. We’ve talked about it.  “You came here to make a life for yourself, and now that you’ve chosen not to follow the path of … their path? You’re free to follow your own, and that means…” 

 “Not until I decide to leave here.” You beamed at him, lips twitching upward as you glanced past him at the doorway. “And Bari? That’s not going to be for a while, especially with this little guy here.” He turned away from you after a few seconds and the two of you watched as Grogu floated through the room in a small pod, his head peeking up over the edge of it. Morning, kid. He looked in your direction as he passed by, eyes widening and mouth opening in greeting, one hand waving slowly. “Come on, Bari. How could I just leave him behind?” 

 “Yeah, I guess you couldn’t.” The man’s attention went back to his food, fingers holding his own fork loosely. “”I guess I just wonder …” His words trailed off and he raised his eyes to yours, forehead wrinkled. He wants me to see what he’s… His thoughts hit you full force and you couldn’t help the wince, looking away from the man across from you as he replayed in his mind the night the two of you - along with a few others from the nearby town - had spent an evening playing Sabacc and drinking too much Gizer ale and spice beer. 

 “Bari, come on.” You whispered the words, shaking your head. “That���s not fair.” But he kept thinking, the sadness in his gray eyes growing more pronounced. “We were barely old enough to drink, and we both agreed that things shouldn’t have gone that far that night.” And I meant it, even though you didn’t.

 “But they did.” He shrugged. “You knew how I felt then, and how I …” He didn’t need to finish his sentence - he was right. You knew that the man liked you, that he hoped that after you’d chosen to stop training at the Academy, you wouldn’t go far - that you’d be free to be with him in every way. He said your name, giving you a small smile. “It’s not going to change. I’m sorry that I just threw all of those memories at you, but it … I think about it a lot. About you a lot.” You had too, for a while. It wasn’t the first time you’d fooled around with someone, and Bari knew it, but since leaving your home, he’d been the only one to even come close to getting you alone in a room with a bed. 

 You liked him - you really did - but you didn’t feel anything when you’d been with him - not anything that mattered anyway. Even after what had happened with your parents, their story was one that you admired; the spark between them, the defiance of both of their families to up and leave with only a small number of credits to their names, starting a family with little support. Because they believed in each other, in their future. Because they loved each other. 

 Bari had been the first regular person you’d met that wasn’t afraid of you after you’d realized that you were attuned to the Force, that you could do things that other people couldn’t, and his acceptance had been a large part of the reason you’d gotten so close to him in the first place. That was part of it. You sighed, looking down at your tray, suddenly much less hungry than you had been. Why we got close. It was nice to … He wasn’t attracted to you because of the Force, you knew that from his thoughts, and that was appealing to you, too, but as time had passed and you’d grown into true adulthood, the size and number of students in the Academy growing as well, it hadn’t been enough. It never was. It never would have been. 

 After that first and only night together - fumbling in the dark, hands moving over each other’s bodies and your thoughts mercifully blank for the first time in months - you’d made it a point to never let things go that far again; not with Bari and not with anyone else, either. Not while I’m here. Not while I’m setting an example. Not … As you thought, you closed your eyes again, seeing a flash of the deep brown from the dream the night before.  “I’m sorry, Bari. That’s not what I want. That’s not why I’m still here.” Not to settle.

 He grumbled in disappointment, but he didn’t have long to stew, as you heard a quiet mechanical whirring noise and Grogu’s levitating carriage pulled up next to you. Very hungry. You grinned at him and reached over, pulling the tray off the top of it and setting it onto the table before you turned toward him, holding out both hands. Happily cooing, he reached for you, ears perking up, and you lifted him from the nest of blankets, setting him on the table beside his plate. “Morning, Grogu.” Bari was making an attempt - for your sake - but you knew that the kid didn’t buy it for one second, only nodding once at the man before turning his focus back to his food. “Soup, again?” 

 “It’s easy for him to lift the bowl.” You raised an eyebrow, absently reaching over to straighten Grogu’s robe across the back of his neck. “Utensils are kinda hard with three fingers, right kid?” Right. You heard a quiet slurp as he raised the bowl to his mouth, turning your attention back to Bari and hoping that Grogu wasn’t listening - or thinking - too hard. “We can talk later, if you want.” You tried to smile, but it came out strained. “I have a full day today, and then tomorrow this little guy and I are …” You lifted your hands, miming covering Grogu’s ears as you mouthed the next sentence, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Leaving the Academy for a little while.” 

 It was meant to make him smile, but Bari only shrugged, eyes still on you. “If you want.” He stood, pushing away from the table, tray in his hands. “Doesn’t matter.” Before you could respond, Bari was walking away, his back the only thing you could see. Damn. You picked up your fork again, sighing as you returned to your breakfast. He’s mad. 

 “Nah, little guy.” You chewed on your eggs, glancing down. “You’ll understand when -” But you laughed as you saw him holding a spoon in one hand, leaning over a second bowl of food, the surface rippling as something moved within it. Yuck. But Grogu paid no mind to that thought, poking at the top of the liquid, his tiny body nearly vibrating in anticipation. “C’mon, kid. Don’t play with your food.” At that, he froze for a second before turning his head toward you, ears lowered and eyes wide, his emotion changing swiftly to sadness. “No, I wasn’t… I’m not mad, but it…” What did I say?

 He blinked slowly and you saw his grip on the spoon tighten, another flash of his thoughts filling your head briefly. But this time it wasn’t a man’s eyes - it was the Mandalorian, hunched over and staring in your direction from the middle of a dimly lit room.  

---

Tag list is OPEN. Please feel free to ask to be added! 

Magnetic/Din Djarin Tag List: 

@the-blind-assassin-12 @pheedraws @alraedesigns @malionnes​ @deceiverofgodss @thisisparadisemylove​ @siegfriedkingsglaive​

[windless-hurricane]

Sparks

Chapter One: To You, 7 Years From Now

A Reiner x Reader x (Eventual) Jean Fanfic

• ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •

SUMMARY: After the fall of Shiganshina, you joined the military along with your brother. You had hoped to bring peace to the world by doing so, but the world was a cruel place. You seemed to lose more than you gained, but there was always someone - someone who made losing just a bit…easier. You hoped you could keep them forever, but was there a guarantee in this world?

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This has been a few weeks in the making, so I hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS (for entire series): Language, explicit violence, talks of death, suicide, trauma, and mental illness, graphic scenes involving blood and/or death, and sexuality.

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

TAGLIST: If you like this chapter and would like to be tagged in future chapters, feel free to let me know in the comments or send me an ask!

SPARKS MASTERLIST

NEXT CHAPTER

• ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •

• ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •

“I just keep moving forward...until my enemies are destroyed.”

The scene kept playing over and over in Reiner’s mind.

One second, he had been begging Eren to kill him. Then, the next, Eren had refused and took his hand instead. When Eren uttered those words, Reiner’s eyes widened in realization. 

He thought this was a long awaited act of vengeance against him, but he was wrong. He hadn’t seen this coming.

As the blinding light exploded before his eyes, he turned to Falco in an instant. 

Falco didn’t deserve this, he thought. Falco didn’t deserve any of this. He was just a kid who trusted the wrong person. So, if anyone had to live, it was him. Reiner had to save him and he did the only thing he could do in this situation. He brought his hand to his lips and bit down as hard as he could.

He knew he lost the entire lower half of his body because of Eren’s explosion, but he didn’t need much to create a cocoon out of his Titan hands. The last thing he remembered before falling into a deep sleep was cradling Falco.

He felt like he was in pain, but warm at the same time. He kind of liked the feeling. He could die like this, he thought. It was a death he believed he deserved along with one last heroic act of saving Falco’s life. Perhaps this was his peace.

“Reiner.”

Perhaps he could rest now.

“Hey, Reiner.”

He could almost see someone in the distance.

“Reiner, can you hear me?”

But who was he hearing?

“You’re still breathing, but your heartbeat’s so faint.”

That voice, he knew that voice. 

You crouched within Reiner’s Titan hands as you stared at his unconscious form. He still had the creases of a transformation upon his face and his body was connected to his Titan by thick and veiny tubes. When you had pressed your ear to his chest moments before, the thump of his heart was incredibly weak. He was giving up, you thought. If his heartbeat wasn’t hint enough, then his expression truly was.

Dejected, he looked completely dejected.

You slumped over as a sad smile traced your lips, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“What you have been doing to yourself these past four years, Reiner,” you questioned, knowing full well he wouldn’t answer. “You’ve gotten so skinny. I mean you literally lost half your body.”

If Reiner could chuckle, he would have. You always had a habit of making terrible jokes in equally terrible situations. It was one of the qualities he had liked about you and it set his heart aflame.

You giggled at your own joke, unaware of Reiner’s gaining consciousness. “That's fine though,” you continued to say. “You’re still one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

A warmth spread throughout his chest as his heartbeat quickened. He felt himself moving closer and closer to the surface of his never ending pool of hate. You were the one doing it. You were the one pulling him up.

“I shouldn’t feel this way, but...I was hoping that when we met again, we could actually talk. So, much happened since then and everything that we believed to be true wasn’t. Everything about you...wasn’t true. I was supposed to hate you, but I could never bring myself to do it, even after what you did. I can’t hate you, Reiner.”

Your words pulled Reiner to the surface and gave him a spark of life for the first time in four years. You hadn’t hated him and that confession was enough to make him want to live.

“It seems like you’re doing it in my place though,” you observed, clenching your fists tightly. “You hate yourself more than anyone, don’t you, Reiner? It’s to the point where you don’t even want to live anymore.”

You were right. He hadn’t wanted to live ever since he left the island. He was only staying around for the sake of the Warrior candidates and his mother. However, you being there changed that. You had done it so quickly, but hearing your sweet voice was enough. Hearing you was enough to remind him of his promise and he didn’t want to let go.

“I’m sorry, Reiner,” you whispered, standing up. “I wish things were different. I wish we hadn’t been born in different worlds. Maybe then, we could’ve stayed together.”

The thought had you on the brink of tears, but you pushed them aside to shoot him a glance.

“It’s cruel, but maybe in the end, all this fighting will equate to something. Maybe there will be a brighter future ahead of us,” you hoped. “So, don’t give up until then. Live. Live, idiot.”

You turned to run, but didn’t get far as you felt a hand clamp over your wrist.

It was unexpected, but what was even more unexpected was the way you both felt once he did it.

The moment his calloused skin slid against yours, you both felt the spark - the connection. The one that was completely undeniable.

You gaped at him as you could barely mutter, “Hey, Reiner.” His touch had been so desperate and you had no idea why he was trying so hard. 

“I can’t let you go, (Y/N),” and your eyes widened, the tears you had been holding in finally spilling. It was the first time you heard his voice in four years. The first time you heard him say your name. The first time you felt a spark of life...and you knew Reiner was feeling the same thing. You could feel it through his touch.

Gazing into your eyes, holding onto you, hearing you say his name. It caused the spark to nearly explode within him and he didn’t want to let go, not ever.

“Reiner,” you warned, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him. You already felt yourself giving in.

“I can’t,” he whispered, tears swirling within his eyes. “I can’t let you go… Four years ago, I made a promise to myself. If I ever saw you again, I wouldn’t let go...”

“When I first saw you, seven years ago…I knew...”

__________________________________________

You were standing amongst the other cadets with your arms folded behind your back. You, like everyone else, was watching as Shadis made his way down every line; intimidating whoever he saw fit to intimidate, throwing insults at them, and questioning them about who they were and why they decided to be there.

While they cowered, you stood tall and unwavering with a clear vision of what you wanted. That was one of the first things Reiner admired about you.

While you were on the smaller side compared to him, the way you held yourself made you seem bigger than you actually were. You had confidence and pride in yourself. You were tough, determined, and sweet. You were beautiful with a delicate face, glowing white hair, and strong (E/C) eyes. You were a great soldier and an even greater friend. You had become one of the most important people in his life.

In those days, he was determined to become a hero for his country, but when he met you, his priorities started changing.

The moment your (E/C) eyes met his amber ones for the first time, both of you felt it. The spark. The connection that warmed your hearts. However, at the time, neither one of you could explain what the feeling was. So, you simply brushed it off as Shadis came to a halt in front of you.

Reiner longed for this experience again. He wished he could go back to the days where you only knew him as Reiner Braun and not a Warrior or the Armored Titan. Furthermore, he wished he could go back to the days where he only knew you as-

“You, cadet! What’s your name?!”

“(Y/N) Bauer, sir!”

Yeah…(Y/N) and only (Y/N).

[inkandpen22]

Years of Waiting

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Female!Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Y/N is a princess visiting from another kingdom. She and Edmund have been secretly seeing each other for a while.

A/N: Possible mini-series??? Let me know! Happy to be back btw! 

Masterlist

It has been months since I’ve paid a visit to Narnia. I’ve missed its beaches, miles wide forests, rushing clearwater rivers, and most importantly its King. Though, I don’t tell many people of that last one... My father, the King of the Southern Isles, has sent me to act as an envoy. Our two kingdoms have to renew our centuries-old treaty, a job that may take months of negotiations. As the future ruler of the Isles, my father thought this would be good practice for me. In my mind, this trip gives me an excuse to spend some time with one particular Pevensie. In the letters exchanged between High King Peter and my father, Peter placed Edmund in charge of this task. Currently, the High King is occupied with some business in the north, something to do with giants. When I heard the news, I wasn’t exactly disappointed.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N of the Southern Isles,” the guard announces once we enter the grand throne room.

My eyes immediately land on King Edmund sitting on his throne surrounded by three empty ones. When he hears us coming, he rises from his seat with a gleaming smile. I curtsy to His Majesty once we’re at the foot of the steps leading up to the thrones.

“Your Majesty,” I greet with a grin.

“Princess Y/N,” Edmund strolls down the stairs. As I rise from my position, he takes my hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “Always a pleasure, he charms.

“The pleasure is all mine, Sir,” I flirt subtly as there are many eyes on us. “We shall host a feast tonight in honor of your arrival. Before then, I was hoping to lead you on a ride along the shores,” he offers.

“I would be delighted.” I accept, much to his pleasure. ___________________________ The first time we met Edmund was sixteen and I was fourteen. Now, I’m about to turn eighteen which will make me old enough to take my father’s place as ruler of the Southern Isles. Most importantly, my birthday means I’m old enough to marry. When the time comes my parents are hoping I marry a warrior or lord from our kingdom. The thought of marrying has been lingering over my head like a dark cloud considering I’m already in love with someone. One problem though, he’s a Narnian.

After a lovely ride through the wood and along the coast, Edmund and I stop by the far caves, away from the prying eyes of Cair Paravel. Edmund slips down from Philip and helps me off my horse as well.

“Let’s go for a swim!” He suggests enthusiastically, switching his sight between me and the ocean.

Already thinking ahead of him, I start to untie the laces of my dress. He chuckles and quickly joins in undressing, starting with kicking off his boots. After some scrambling, I’m dressed down to my chemise. I beat him to it and race toward the waves.

“Come on slowpoke!” I giggle as I turn back to see Edmund rushing. “Mr. Beaver moves faster than you!”

“Maybe when he’s swimming! I have him beat in walking considering he waddles!” He defends as he finishes up tossing his shirt to the sand and sprints toward me.

Immediately, Edmund picks me up, tossing me over his shoulder. I yelp as he playfully tosses me into deeper waters. The cool water encompasses me and I push off the sandy floor to the surface. I splash in Edmund’s direction and he attempts to dodge it but gets a direct hit to the face. He squeezes his eyes shut and wipes his face clear.

“Oh, you’re going to get it now!” He laughs, diving into the water to reach me.

I squeal and try to swim in the opposite direction. I stand no chance as I feel Edmund’s hand wrap around my ankle and yank me back to him. Water rushes around me in minor ripples as Edmund pulls me toward his chest. I drape my arms over his shoulder and he guides my legs around his waist. Mere inches from each other, our faces linger. His warm breath falls between his parted lips as we stare into each other’s eyes.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he mutters as his hand brushes across my cheek.

“I missed you more,” I challenge playfully.

He shakes his head gently and mumbles, “that’s impossible.”

Gently, he tucks his hand behind my head and brings our lips together for a soft kiss. Our first kiss since we saw each other almost a year ago at the Spring Festival. We’ve been in love since we were kids, yet our relationship has remained a secret for years now. Hidden kisses, secret nights out, discreet letters back and forth, it’s all we have. Whenever we’re in the same land we do everything we can to spend even minutes together alone. __________________________________________________ Spending the day on the beach has been perfect. As the sun starts to think about setting, Edmund and I continue to lay on the sand hand-in-hand to soak up the last minutes of sunlight.

“Let’s just skip the ball and stay here,” he suggests while relaxing beside me.

“We can’t, people will wonder where we are,” I responsibly consider.

“Let them.” He dismisses casually with a snicker as he brings our interlocked hands to his lips to plant a kiss on mine.

“They’ll assume we’re together!” I reason, flicking my head to the side to see his face.

“So?” He follows my actions and opens his eyes. “We are together...”

“Without a chaperone! My honor would be wrecked,” I remind him of that crucial detail.

“I think your honor was sort of shot too high Heaven after my last visit to the Southern Isles, don’t you think?” He snickers mischievously.

I gasp, swatting Edmund on the arm. “Ugh, seriously?!”

“Right, right, sorry,” he holds up his hands in surrender, but I can see the amusement in his eyes.

I huff, settling back down into my comfortable position.

He sighs in frustration, turning his eyes back to the sky above us. “I wish people knew about us. It would make everything easier.”

“All in good time,” I assure him calmly.

“Why must we wait?” He groans, despite knowing why.

“There’s protocol and-”

“Ugh, I’m so tired of formalities!” He huffs, sitting up from his laid position. “I’m the King of Narnia for goodness sake! I should make the rules!”

“You do,” I remind him confidently. “But you’re not the King of the Southern Isles. Peter may agree to us but my father...”

“Remember that time we snuck off after the council dinner two years ago?” Edmund recalls out of the blue. “You left hickeys all down my chest and I told Peter I had a bad duel training session,” he snickers as he admires the warm color palette of a sky.

I sigh, his mind sometimes makes me blush. “Ed this isn’t exactly-”

“Don’t you wish we could do that again,” he flickers his attention over to me with a grin.

I think of that night all the time. It was the first time we... never mind. “Well... I mean...” I stammer. “Yes but-”

Edmund doesn’t hesitate as he shifts to straddle me. In a swift movement, he takes my wrists and pins them down onto the side on either side of my head. A playful grin is etched across his lips as a soft chuckle escapes them. He laughs like a child but his actions are anything but childish as he starts to kiss my neck hungrily.

“No, Ed!” I giggle. “Stop it!”

“Only when you say the magic words,” he counters.

We’ve done it a million times before. I love this Edmund, the goofy and playful sort. Anytime we do anything somewhat competitive like riding or archery, we end up just like this. It’s all in good fun of course. One thing Edmund will never let me do is dual with him. He says ‘you’ll get hurt.’ As though my father doesn’t have me in training back home as a precaution.

“Say it! Say I’m the better rider!” He demands, continuing his assault.

“No, Philip is just the quicker horse!” I tease, wiggling in his hold.

“Say it!” Edmund repeats.

“No! I’ve been riding longer than you, remember?” I giggle.

“Marry me,” Edmund blurts out against my neck.

I stop wiggling as my chest sinks. Edmund rises from his hunched-over position to hover over me.

“Marry me, Y/N,” he repeats so gently that it nearly gets lost in the breeze.

He stares me in the eyes with such intensity, almost as though he didn’t mean to say it, as though it slipped out. Yet, now that he has said it, he awaits my answer.

“Yes,” I mutter with a hint of shakiness.

His eyes widen with surprise. “Really?! Truly, you’ll marry me?!” His grip around my wrist tightens slightly.

“Yes!” I giggle with joy.

He shares in my joy and leans down to plant a passionate kiss on my lips.

“Heavens, I love you so much!” He mumbles against my lips.

“I love you more!” I smile into the kiss.

Now, all we have to do is tell the others... that’s where the real trouble begins.

_______________________

Masterlist