#allowed me to bring some detail without stepping out of my comfort zone too much

[aeliem]

for @hiro-doodlez's dtiys

not completely sold on the background so there's a version without it below (to be clear my entry is still the one with the bg)

timelapse & version w/out background under the cut

[starshipsofstarlord]

Close, Suspiciously So

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | Falcon gains an interest in to as to why the reader and Bucky are spending so much time together after missions.

Warnings | the reader enjoying annoying Zemo and vice versa, swearing, hints at previous smut, threats

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Without much care for the expense, you dived upon Zemo’s couch, that was within his secret hideout, closing your eyes, and laying upon the comfortable furniture. The Baron simply scoffed at your behaviour, whereas, Bucky concealed his amusement, to Sam’s dismay.

Since the Falcon had called for your help, along with Bucky’s, the two of you had gotten close, always tailing each other on missions to ensure that the other did not get hurt, and there being no snide remarks emitting from the once winter soldier in your presence.

He was an utmost gentleman, and that was when Sam Wilson realised, the old man was trying to court you, as was done with more respect and less bluntness back in his war zone days. The man could see the adoration resonating in the eyes of the other, and he went to open his mouth, until Bucky turned abruptly towards the kitchen, Zemo trailing back over to Sam and you.

At his presence, you groaned, feeling his judgemental and high ranking eyes glaring predominantly at you, clearly wishing to sit on the space that you were occupying. Though, you made no movement to move, and instead, kicked your shoes off.

Sighing, Zemo rolled his irises around in the pools of his white, finally giving in to sharing thus another luxury with you and your darned companions. “There are bedrooms upstairs, you may take one y/n.”

At that, you smirked, moving upright to stand, making it clear that it had been your plan all along. “Thank you so much Helmet, is it to the left?” He nodded, wishing to get his hands rid of your presence, that was keen to trail away.

“She used to be a con artist before she joined the team, it’s clear she still carries some of the attributes.” Sam mumbled out into the air, watching as Zemo squinted honourably towards him.

“You tell me that as though I did not do my research before I became invested in stopping all superheroes, her included.” He simply sipped his tea, twiddling with the foil of a Turkish delight as he sat down, pleased that he now could.

“Was that an threat towards her to me?” It was no surprise, they all knew not to trust this man, he had done enough damage when he was free the last time, and now, it would be strange to suspect any different from him.

“No, simply a statement for now. I’d not have included her if your Labrador of a super soldier was in this room, but to my luck, James is not.” Another sip of his drink became audible in the air, as Sam turned around.

He was right, Bucky was no longer within the walls of the room, and his eyes began to flicker. They’d have seen him exit if he decided to leave, perhaps but he had been an assassins for a long time, so who knew, and there was no sign that the front door had been opened, no cold air was blowing inside.

But, he could have went upstairs, and gone to another bedroom. Who was he kidding, he’d be in the same room, it all made sense! And all along, he had been right, there had been something to suspect.

Though, the investigative part needed to know that he was right, and so, he, with the shadow of Zemo that he was defiant with not leaving behind, for he could run, the pair walked quietly up the steps.

Zemo pointed to the door whence they had reached the landing, and Sam, with a strained face, opened the door quickly, only for you and Bucky to jump away from each other.

Your hands fell reluctantly from Bucky’s shoulders, and he himself licked his lips, trying to rid the evidence of your lipstick from his mouth. But it was to no avail working, the pair of you had been caught out, and surely, the two of you would never hear the end of this.

“I knew it!” Sam bellowed, pleased that he had been right to have his suspicions all along. Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam, zipping up his fly that no one else but you, had realised had been undone. But the action drew attention to the feature, and it soon dawned on Sam that the pair of you must have just finished something before Sam had barged in. “Y’all are gross!”

“And you seem to be rather oblivious Samuel. It was clear that these two came up here to fuck, and I am surprised that you are only just discovering this now. Some would think you were asleep on jet, when the pair suddenly decided that they both needed to use the bathroom, or when I was beating up the dance floor in Madripoor, that you were incidentally left all by your lonesome as the two of them disappeared into the crowd.”

He took another sip of his tea that he had carried up here, and you crossed your arms, whilst Bucky scowled murderously towards the two men that had intervened where they shouldn’t have.

“The fact that you pay that close detail to us is weird.” You stated, your nostrils flaring as you stared at the Sokovian. “Do you not have anything better to do?” You retorted, causing Zemo to put his cup down on its adjoining plate that was held in his spare hand before he responded.

“Not really, no. Whilst you have taken me hostage, it is either watch the drama that is ongoing in your little group, or think about the mission ahead. And as much as I would like to kill Karli-“

“No.” Sam scolded him, frowning at the man, who only rolled his shoulders back before continuing, being strictly against taking a girls life, he allowed him to speak more, no matter how irritating the rest would be.”

“However, it has been clear to me from the very beginning what the two of you have been doing, and whilst this oaf has not accepted it, it was far too easy to put the pieces together. It’s like you never told him about that time that you used your con skills to make Sam get food whilst you were going against the accords, and Steve was occupied with bringing the team together, and you had some of your own fun in the front seat, where he had been sat.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and so did Bucky’s. “I’m going to kill you!” They both said simultaneously, Sam’s aimed at Bucky whilst Bucky’s words were prompted towards zemo.

“Seriously, you’re creepy dude!” You whisper shouted as you held Bucky back, Zemo smirking in reply.

“I hear things, and I’d say for a con woman, you speak far too much to your lover, and the walls here are only thin.” And with that, he picked his mug up once more, after having already spilt the tea.

[thenamesseven]

Plot: Yeonjun was tired of not being able to do things normal couples could do with you so when he has the opportunity to sneak out and visit the Christmas market downtown, he doesn’t hesitate to do it and drag you with him.

Word count: 4.7k

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None just fluff and a lot of cheesy stuff!

Pairing: Yeonjun x fem!reader

A/N: THIS IS FINALLY FINISHEEEED!! This oneshot was made for @key201303​ for a Christmas game I did with the network @kafenetwork​, thank you so much for letting me participate in this, I really had fun! ^^

Yeonjun couldn’t help but smile softly when he opened the door that guided into the hotel room he had been sharing with you since you arrived to the United States. Seeing you laying on the bed, hidden underneath a bunch of blankets and surrounded by all the pillows you had, the idol suddenly felt lucky, mentally asking himself how he had been able to conquist the heart of somebody as amazing as you were. 

It wasn’t easy to date somebody like him for you. The amount of attention he was getting the more famous he got was way out of your comfort zone, he had been afraid to approach you at first because of your shy and timid nature but he lowkey loved the way you fidgeted and blushed whenever the two of you talked. Nobody really had much hope in your relationship though, everyone thought you were too different, your lives were complete opposites and whoever knew you, doubted you would be able to stand the pressure you would have to deal with if your relationship went public.

However, against all odds, Yeonjun succeeded in asking you out months later after your first encounter and since that day, he had been trying his hardest to make you feel like the most special yet happiest girl in the universe. It wasn’t easy, things didn’t come out as well as he wanted every single time, sometimes his schedule got in the way, sometimes your studies did and sometimes it was simply his fame that got between the two of you but he always found a way to make you smile, there was not one day your boyfriend failed to make your heart flutter.

More than once, Yeonjun found himself thinking about it and it ended up making him feel guilty, no matter how many times you’ve reassured him, stating that your relationship was perfect the way it was, the ugly truth of him not being able to give you the things a normal boyfriend could give his girlfriend still roamed the back of his mind. For example, now that Christmas was getting closer, Yeonjun knew he wouldn’t be able to walk around town with you, holding hands as you searched for presents and made good memories together. He wouldn’t be able to run down the streets when it started snowing, dodging people to not bump into somebody, he just wouldn’t be able to visit the mall and hold your hand as you dragged him into store after store without a bunch of securities guards around you, making sure he wouldn’t get hurt.

He wanted to give you that. Even if it was for one night. 

You deserved it.

“Yeonjunie?” His heart almost melted when you poked your head out of your blanket fortress to see him standing on the door, leaning against its frame as he watched you. The smile that curved his lips simply made you fall for him all over again. “What are you doing there?” You sat up on the bed, keeping the blankets around your body, patting the empty space beside you so he would join you there “How did the interview go?” 

This was your first time travelling with him, Yeonjun and you had been dating for almost two years and were already considering moving in together so it would be easier to spend more time with each other. You knew there would still be days when Yeonjun would have to stay till really late in the studio or you would have to spend most of the night up, locked in a room preparing for one of your exams but if living together meant you would be able to spend five more minutes with him every single day, then you wanted to do it.

Before his Christmas break, TXT had scheduled their early debut in America and Yeonjun, being the clingy boyfriend he was, had used every single bit of his time to  convince you -and his boss- to fly with the band to the new continent. You hadn’t hesitated to accept the offer though, hearing the company was alright with it was incredibly surprising and you knew this was a chance you simply couldn’t miss. All your exams were done already and classes had ended, besides sharing a room for the first time would kind of simulate how living together would be.

“Not going to lie, it was kind of awkward” He admitted with a boyish smile, sitting besides you onto the bed and crossing his legs. His eyes lazily dragged to the television placed in front of you as his head landed on your shoulder, getting comfortable besides you “Soobin and Taehyun did most of the talking” 

“Mhm? What about you?” You asked looking down at him curiously, bringing your hand up to poke his cheek, Yeonjun shrugged at your question, eyes still on the television where one of those cheesy christmas movies was being played. You had been watching these kind of movies for the entire evening but never got tired of it no matter how cliche or silly they were. You were a sucker for romance films. 

“My mind was somewhere else” He confessed looking down at you, smiling when your eyes met. Your cheeks turned slightly pink at his sudden confession, not having expected that at all. “I was thinking of you all bundled up in this bed, watching these boring movies by yourself and how much you must have missed me” His smile turned into a smirk and even though he was kind of right, you would never give him that satisfaction. Rolling your eyes, you pushed him back, making him lay down and away from you, stealing some chuckles from his lips.

“Oh yeah, I missed you so much” You scoffed, fighting hard to keep the urge of laughing back as you felt him moving behind you. His long legs spread to position your body in between them and his arms easily surrounded your figure, allowing him to give you a back hug. Yeonjun’s blue hair tickled your cheek as he rested his chin on your shoulder “What’s gotten into you today?” You asked, turning your body to look back at him.

“Just missed being like this with you, I’ve been working non-stop since we got here” He said looking at you, a small pout forming on his lips "And I was hoping we would do something together, something we can't do back in Korea"

You frowned, not really following where your boyfriend was leading the conversation to. The things the two of you could do were very limited thanks to his fame, not that it bothered you, you knew what you were getting yourself into when you accepted going out with Yeonjun, so that’s why you didn’t understand what he was thinking of exactly.

“And what is that exactly?” You asked curiously, completely ignoring the television now to keep your eyes on his.

His boyish smile turned even brighter when you didn’t reject his advances, his excitement bubbling up “How about we go out?” He asked quietly, almost as if he was afraid that somebody would hear his intentions “I saw an arcade nearby on my way here, we could just go and play some games” He proposed, resting his cheek on your shoulder “But I also saw there is some kind of christmas market downtown, let’s go check it out, it will be fun” 

You wanted to, there was no point in denying that his excitement was contagious and that you felt like checking the place out but you were also a bit worried about the consequences your sneaking out adventure could bring him. The company was surely not happy about your relationship with Yeonjun even though they hadn't made the two of you break up in order to protect themselves from a scandal, Yeonjun would surely be scolded if they ever find out about what you did and it would automatically involve Soobin for not paying enough attention to the group as the leader. The fact that he could get hurt was also there, holding you back from accepting his offer, despite Yeonjun not being as equally famous here as he was in Korea, there was no doubt fangirls would run after him if they were given the chance to. You had to recognize this little excursion had more bad outcomes than good ones. 

Knowing what was going through your mind exactly, Yeonjun didn't even wait for you to answer his question before he stood up from the bed, looking around the hotel room before his eyes landed back down on you. 

"Let's go" He suddenly said, reaching down to grab your arm and pulling you out of bed.

However his plan to suddenly run away backfired when you stepped on the blanket that had been covering you and tripped thanks to him, falling down onto the floor with a loud thud. Yeonjun flinched, looking down at you with an apologetic smile, ignoring the way you glared at him from the floor as he rushed to your suitcase.

“Get rid of that pijama and dress comfortably” 

“Yeonjun” You warned, still sitting on the floor as you looked at him

“Listen to me, let’s just do this” He said, throwing your clothes everywhere as he searched for something, hitting you right on the face when he threw your jeans over his head along with one of your oversized jumpers.

“Yeonjunie” You tried, whining as you looked at his back.

“If we get out in five minutes, we’ll be able to sneak out in the security’s shift change” The amount of details he had taken into account to make this possible made you arch an eyebrow, incredibly surprised by him.  This was not a sudden occurrence, Yeonjun had planned this.

“YEONJUN!” You screamed willing to stop his rant

“WHAT?” He screamed back, suddenly turning around to look at you with your shoes in his hand and your scarf around his neck “WHY ARE YOU STILL WEARING THAT? GET CHANGED!”

“Breathe” You said looking down at him, standing up with your clothes gathered in your arms so he could start feeling less anxious “Do you realize in how much trouble we’ll get if they find out we’re gone?” 

“I don’t care” Yeonjun replied with an ecstatic smile on his lips “Get dressed” 

The two of you couldn’t stop laughing as you ran down the almost deserted road and away from the hotel where you were staying. Yeonjun had been totally right about the shift change from the guards and the hall where the TXT’s rooms were situated hadn’t been watched for a good ten minutes. Nobody, not even the guys, knew you were out of your room and they hopefully wouldn’t notice until you came back later that night.

“I can’t believe we did it” You said chucking, slowing your pace down as you turned your head to look back at him. Yeonjun intertwined your fingers, stopping his running too as he suddenly pulled you closer to his body, smirking as soon as your faces were merely centimeters away. “You’re insane” You whispered, looking up into his eyes.

This was probably one of the few times you’ve seen Yeonjun being this happy, the glint in his eyes told you he was already having the time of his life. 

"You're right" He agreed with a playful smirk on his face "I'm absolutely insane for you"

Your heart stopped beating at the sound of his words. Since the first day you started dating, Yeonjun has had the ability to make you feel as shy as you felt the first time the both of you met. Maybe it was because of his enchanting smile, or the way his eyes lit up when they met yours or how your heart skipped a beat when his nose scrunched up in pure happiness but your boyfriend simply made you fall in love with him all over again every single day you spent by his side. 

"What? You're not going to say you love me too?" He asked teasingly, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately. 

"I think we've been watching too many dramas together" You teased back, laughing when he groaned, not letting you move away from him. 

"Come on, I just got out of the hotel knowing that if I get caught I'll get the scolding of my life for you" He said smirking, pressing small pecks on the corners of your lips "The least you can do is profess your eternal love for me"

"Oh Yeonjun-ah" You said dramatically, bowing your head "Thank you for sneaking out if the hotel to spend some time with a mere mortal like me" Even though those words weren't the ones he wanted to hear exactly, Yeonjun couldn't help but laugh, throwing his head back amused. 

"Just kiss me already, idiot" He insisted with a small grin, looking down at you, straight into your eyes. 

Rolling yours, you finally gave into his wants -which were also yours- and went to close the small distance between your faces, craving to feel the warmth of his lips against yours already. However, as soon as your lips were about to touch, a driver that was passing by, honk their claxon at the two of you, whistling and cheering with his friends at the small romantic scene Yeonjun and you were starring in the middle of the street. 

The sudden public appreciation made the two of you shy and instead of kissing you, Yeonjun just rested his forehead against yours, letting out a quiet chuckle as he closed his eyes. 

"Why doesn't the world want me to kiss you?" He asked quietly, still smiling through his words. 

"Screw the world, I just care about you"

Surprising him, you grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him towards you, making your lips meet in a rushed kiss. Yeonjun couldn't help but smile and you giggled against his lips, shivering coldly when his hands reached up to cup one of your cheeks, caressing your soft skin gently. 

After a few seconds of just kissing each other, refusing to be the one to break the moment, Yeonjun ended up pulling away "Are we moving or we're just going to make out in this shady street?" He asked playfully, refusing to move his lips away from yours, letting them brush against your lips with every single word he said. His eyes opened, watching your features curiously yet amusedly. 

"Let's go, we've got an entire Christmas market to explore"

When you got to the place where the event was being held, there was no point in denying anxiety was starting to get to you, there were a lot of people around and there was no doubt that somebody from the crowd would surely recognize your famous boyfriend if the cap he was wearing fell down.

Yeonjun fixed his cap, lowering it a bit more so it would cover most of his blue hair and his eyes, his hand squeezing yours to reassure you that everything would be alright. He wasn't worried about himself but the fact that if fans started gathering around him, you would also be trapped in the middle of that nightmare with him and the last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt. 

"Maybe it's better if we go back to the hotel?" He suddenly asked, the thought of you getting hurt being too much for him to handle. 

You looked up at him confused yet surprised, after how far you’ve got he wanted to return to your room? "What?" You asked as if you hadn't heard him correctly, frowning softly, intertwining your fingers tighter "But you wanted to take a look, right?" You asked again, turning your body so you would be facing him. 

"I don't want you to be trapped with me if someone recognizes me" He confessed, feeling a little fidgety yet shy at the sudden confession. Yeonjun shrugged when you kept watching him in pure awe, kind of fidgety under your unwavering gaze.

“It’s alright, nobody will recognize you” You muttered, pulling his hand as you stepped closer into the market, noticing he was feeling even more nervous.

“You sure?” He asked looking down at you, squeezing your hand even tighter.

“Let’s get some waffles!” You pulled his hand tightly, ignoring his last question and Yeonjun, unable to say no to you when you had that childish yet incredibly beautiful expression on your face ended up following you into the market, praying everything would turn out fine.

“I can’t believe we wasted so much money in a waffle” He muttered, walking away from the little stand as you bit down onto the nutella waffle he had just bought for you. It was true, it had been ridiculously expensive but seeing how happy you were eating it made it totally worth it.

“Shut up, you could buy the entire stand if you wanted to” You said amused, groaning satisfied when the warm sweet flavor overwhelmed your paladar. “This is so good, try it” You pushed the waffle in his direction and Yeonjun couldn’t help but laugh when he saw you had gotten some nutella onto your nose.

“Can you stop sticking your nose into our food?” He asked jokingly, using a tissue to get rid of the sticky chocolate stain on your skin before he leaned closer to take a bite from it.

“Our food?” You asked shocked, watching him take a huge bite from your waffle “Hey! You might as well eat the rest of it!” You scolded with a pout, trying hard not to smile when he just chuckled after swallowing your food “Not letting you take another bite”

“Oh come on, I want some more” Yeonjun whined, wrapping his arms around you from behind so he could keep you close to him and avoid you walking away. “Please babe?” He asked, using the petname, knowing that would make you feel weaker against his advances.

“Nope” You shook your head, firm on your decision.

“Please, please, please, my loooove” Yeonjun added in a cute voice, leaving a thousand kisses on your cheek until you started giggling in his arms once again, absolutely melting against him.

“Fine, whatever, take another bite” You said trying to sound angry but laughing in the end.

Yeonjun smiled satisfied with your answer, leaning his head over your shoulder so he could still take a bite from behind you without having to unwrap his arms from you. The side of his head rested comfortably against yours, his body slowly rocking to the beat of the christmas carols that played in the background. So far, nobody seemed to be paying attention to any of you and Yeonjun was glad the two of you could feel like a normal couple for once.

“We should buy another one on our way back to the hotel” He proposed, watching you eat the last bite with a smile on his face, his head leaning down instinctively to place a kiss on your cheek.

“Didn’t you say it was too expensive?” You asked tilting your head back so you could look at him

“I never said I was paying for it” He replied, smirking, making you roll your eyes and break free from the comfort of his arms.

“You’re….”

“Amazing, cute, adorable, absolutely handsome, sexy?” He asked lowly, his deep voice turning your cheeks slightly pink. Yeonjun smiled at your reaction and you shook your head.

“An idiot” You finished before walking away, amused when you heard him whining and complaining behind you.

The two of you started walking around, looking at all the different stalls and seeing the things they sold apart from buying more food for the two of you. The atmosphere was fantastic and being able to walk downtown with Yeonjun like you were doing right now felt incredibly domestic yet it somehow felt like one of the best dates the two of you ever had. Walking while holding hands, drinking hot chocolate and just joking with each other would be your ideal date from now on.

Unfortunately, the time to go back approached and even when the two of you wanted to spend more time out, stay there for a little longer, you knew you should go back to the hotel before someone ended up realizing Yeonjun and you had sneaked out without any security. You loved him and you would hate yourself if he got in trouble just to please you.

“Wait” Yeonjun suddenly stopped walking, stopping right in front of the gigantic Christmas tree that had been placed in the middle of the square. The sight of his face adorned with the colorful lights of the tree made you smile, he looked so cute, so handsome...It made you realize all over again that you were truly lucky to have such a boyfriend “I bought you a present”

Your brain took a few seconds to process what he had just said, you were surprised and shocked to say the least “You did?” You asked curiously, kind of feeling bad for not buying anything for him “You could have said something and I would have also got you one” You said pouting but he shook his head, pulling you a bit closer to him so you would hear him perfectly over the sounds of the music and people talking that surrounded you.

“I know dating someone like me isn’t easy” He started off, his smile fading a little when his eyes met yours “Like yeah, having a famous boyfriend must be cool and all of that” He joked, making you smile “But I know for sure that you sometimes wish we could do things we normally can’t do, like what we did today” Yeonjun squeezed your hand when you shook your head, wanting to reassured him but he kept talking “I’ve never really said this out loud but after this trip I realized it might be important for you to hear it because you are the most important person in my life” Your heart skipped a beat at the seriousness of his voice, his words making you tear up a little “Like, I can’t believe almost a year ago I was afraid to talk to you and now we’re travelling all around the world together” 

“Thank God I approached you first” You interrupted jokingly, rolling your eyes, making him laugh

“I thank God for that every single day, trust me” Yeonjun said wrapping one of his arms around your torso, keeping your body against him, making the moment even more intimate between the two of you “I want to thank you for being there in my hardest days, for giving me support when I most needed it and for accompanying me even when I push you away when stress gets to me” You shook your head again, feeling a tear roll down your cheek “Things aren’t always easy for us but you’re such a strong person….We wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for you...I wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for you” He said resting his forehead against yours, smiling even though you were starting to cry even harder at his words “So yeah, thank you for staying by my side, for standing my annoying ass and for being my number one fan no matter what….Thank you for loving me”

You opened your mouth to say something but Yeonjun shut you up with a soft kiss, not letting you say anything yet since he wasn’t really done with his little speech “And that’s why I bought you this” Excitedly, he took out a Santa Claus’ hat, making you laugh when you saw the small present he had bought for you “I want you to have this through every Christmas we spend together as a memory of this moment” Yeonjun let go of your hand to reach out and put on the hat, smiling widely when he saw how cute you looked with it on your head “Of the night we sneaked out and finally had a normal date for once” He added chuckling, making you giggle “Of the night I said I want to spend the rest of my Christmas by your side”

Without saying anything else, Yeonjun leaned down to seal his words with the sweetest and most wonderful kiss the two of you ever shared in your lives.

Running down the hall, you couldn’t help but keep laughing when you should be dead silent so nobody would notice Yeonjun and you running down the hall. Right when you were almost in your room, Yeonjun spotted one of the security guards walking towards the direction you were and pulled you into the staircase, almost making you drop the waffles the two of you were still eating on your way back.

“Dude!” You whispered shouted, hitting his chest for almost ruining your favourite jumper with a Nutella bath.

“Ow!” Yeonjun complained, frowning as he looked at you “He’s coming this way, shut up, shut up!” He said panicking, pushing you harder against the wall as if the two of you could magically camouflage like chameleons did when they were scared.

“Yeah, everyone answered when I knocked on their door except Yeonjun, maybe he is asleep?” The bodyguard asked into the walkie talkie as he walked towards the elevator “I’ll check on Soobin and then come back to his room with a key”

Yeonjun’s and your eyes opened as wide as plates and your boyfriend started running down the hall at light speed as soon as the bodyguard headed down another hall. “Come on, come on, come on” He muttered, frantically patting his pockets when he arrived at your door. As soon as he found the key, Yeonjun opened it and gently pushed you inside, closing it as quietly yet as fast as he could.

“What do I do with the waffles?” You asked panicking, whispering as he ran around, already undoing the bed sheets to jump inside.

“Hide them!” Yeonjun said turning around to look at you from the bed

“No way, are you Sherlock Holmes?” You asked rolling your eyes “Where do I hide them Yeonjun? Under the freaking bed?” 

“Just put them somewhere, they won’t check the bathroom!” 

You ran inside the bathroom and left the waffles there before rushing back into the room seeing Yeonjun was already laying under the blankets. The two of you giggled when you slid besides him, instantly laying on your side, being the big spoon and letting Yeonjun be the small one this time. You barely had time to pull the bedsheets over you before a couple of bodyguards poked their heads inside, their eyes instantly laying on the two of you sleeping there.

“Is she wearing a hat?” One of them whispered, his voice sounding confused.

“She is” The other one replied chuckling, you felt Yeonjun burying his face into the pillow to not start laughing himself too when he realized you had forgotten to take it off “Hey, it’s their way to celebrate Christmas together, that’s cute”

“I guess it is” You heard them stepping out of the room communicating through the walkie talkie, Yeonjun was safe and sound inside his bed, sleeping like a baby besides his girlfriend.

The two of you started laughing quietly as soon as they walked away, placing your hands onto your stomach as tears of happiness rolled down your cheeks. The two of you were almost breathless when your laughter finally died down, turning your head to meet his eyes again.

“If you get the waffles from the bathroom I’ll love you forever” Yeonjun said happily, making you groan obviously disliking his words.

“No, you get them” You replied pushing him gently, successfully kicking Yeonjun out of the bed.

“I hate you” He said glaring at you as he walked to the bathroom

“You love me” You said giggling when he walked back out, holding the two waffles.

“I guess you’re right” He admitted sitting besides you, rolling his eyes, acting all confident as if he hadn’t poured his heart out for you a few seconds ago.

“YoU’rE tHe MoSt ImPoRtAnT pErSoN iN My LiFe” You mocked smirking, laughing when he pushed you away from him. “I love you too idiot” You replied, watching him going from pouty puppy to a huge bright smile

“I love you more Miss Claus” Yeonjun replied, making the two of you giggle, pecking your lips before he handed you your waffle “I love you more”

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Encounter Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Edit: This date has been released in EN!

The date begins with MC in her office at 11pm, preparing Victor’s “big surprise”

Over the past two weeks, she has been sending Victor small gifts to express her gratitude for his help in getting her a smooth interview with Mr Sheng, a real estate tycoon

While she’s in the office, Victor calls her regarding the puppy apron he received

Overall, he would give brief comments on these gifts. He would only say a word of thanks when he occasionally comes across a gift which suits his tastes. 

As for the puppy apron I sent today...

Before I can continue asking him about the apron, Victor has already changed the topic. 

Victor: If you’re willing to spend all your time on official business, you wouldn’t need to stay up every day... work is never-ending. It’s about time to go home and rest. 

MC: Eh? 

How does he know that I haven’t returned home to rest yet?

I hastily look out the window. A black car is stationary under the streetlamp. Even though I can’t see the car plate clearly, my instincts tell me that it’s Victor. 

MC: Why are you here? 

Victor: I was just passing by. 

Really...

Victor: Come down. I’ll send you home. 

MC: Okay! I’ll pack my things and head down.

Victor: There doesn’t seem to be a big proposal recently. Why do you have to stay till so late? 

My heart rattles, and I hurriedly find a reason to get by.

MC: Maybe my mood hasn’t been good recently, so I’m always not in the zone when doing work. 

I thought Victor would respond to my words with taunting remarks. Instead his tone slows down, revealing his certainty in me. 

Victor: The interview you did with Mr Sheng wasn’t bad. There’s no need to be too impatient, or give yourself too much stress. The accumulation of work always requires time.

Just before I turn the lights off, I toss another glance at the present on the table. Even though he can’t see my expression, I can’t help but smile and nod. 

MC: All right.

~

The next day, Mr Sheng sends her an invitation to a club to meet some of his friends in the industry, mentioning that MC’s interviews have had a positive effect on his company’s reputation

She agrees because it’s an opportunity to expand her network

When she arrives at the club, Victor happens to be there too

Mr Sheng receives a phone call and leaves Victor and MC alone 

Victor doesn’t let her drink alcohol, and orders her a glass of warm water instead:

Noticing me look longingly at the beautifully coloured tequila sunrise in his hand, he puts a small red paper umbrella into my cup. 

Later on, MC finds herself with nothing to do, so Victor stuffs a cue stick into her hand and suggests they have a game of billiards

MC suggests that if she wins, he has to pass her proposal

She had spent two months on the proposal, but Victor had put it down, saying that it's overly risky

MC: Don’t underestimate me! I’ve won second place in my school’s billiards competition.

While I was prepared for his taunting remarks, Victor grows silent instead.

His interest seems to be piqued, and he sits sideways on the billiard table. 

Victor: You’ve left the nest?

He chalks the tip of the cue stick slowly. Seeing that I didn’t say a word, he lifts his eyes towards me, as though genuinely wanting to know my answer to this question. 

Actually...

These types of situations happen from time to time. After all, no one wants the proposals they’ve worked hard on to be rejected. 

As long as Victor doesn’t completely reject the proposal, I’ll keep on striving.

Come to think of it, this seems to be the first time he has commented on my efforts to keep striving.

Victor: All right. We’ll have one round. 

Without waiting for my response, he has already made a decision. His low voice has a hint of joy in it. 

I hold my breath and find the most comfortable angle to strike the ball. The colourful balls crash and collide, and one of them rolls in a straight line to the lower right corner--

MC: Yes!

Victor looks at the colourful ball as it rolls into the bag. His brows are raised slightly, and he is clearly surprised. 

Victor: No wonder you dared to challenge me today.

MC: The stereotype you have of me is too deep. I’m not really a dummy!

Victor: A dummy’s luck just tends to be better.

My desire to win is ignited. No matter what, I’m going to fight back against his ridicule.

MC: Watch carefully - this is skill, not luck!

Victor leans at the corner of the billiard table, his arms folded. It’s as though he is intrigued, and has an expression which says that he’s going to continue appreciating my “performance”. 

My cue stick moves forward, and the white ball leaves my corner, colliding firmly against a bunch of colourful pool balls, and then gets hit into the diagonal bottom pocket...

At the very same moment, I can clearly hear Victor’s chuckle. 

Victor: Mm, your skills are not bad. 

MC: There’s no need to be too happy. It’s 1 against 0. I’m in the lead. 

Victor takes two steps forward. He retrieves the white ball from the bag, gets into position, and leans down slowly. 

He isn’t anxious to enter the game at all. He adjusts the angle several times before lifting his head to look at me. 

Victor: If you lose, you’re not allowed to cry.

MC: Are you treating me like a child?

Right after the words leave my mouth, the two balls that are hit roll outwards with a “ping”. One rolls into the middle bag, and one rolls into the bottom bag. 

At the same time, he stands in position without a hint of hesitation, and strikes. The “ping ping” sounds of impact reverberate continuously in the room--

I lean against the wall nervously, “appreciating” how Victor makes shot after shot, striking the balls into the hole.

His calm expression and skilful techniques completely strip the game of suspense. 

He stops his movements and looks at the watch on his wrist. He straightens up and arches an eyebrow towards me slightly.

Victor: Do you still want to continue? 

MC: Of course we’ll continue...

My words lack confidence, but I’m someone whose resolve will not die until I reach my goal...

Victor: Don’t waste time. Let’s set new rules. The one who gets the black ball in first wins. 

Victor lets MC go first, but she starts feeling nervous

Victor: Want to admit defeat? 

MC: Not at all...

After a pause, I say what’s in my heart.

MC: I can’t win against you.

Suddenly, a familiar scent surrounds me. 

Victor leans over, pressing himself against my back, holding my cue stick with both hands. 

The cue stick controlled by Victor strikes the white ball cleanly. After a crisp sound of impact, the black ball rolls straight into the middle bag. 

Victor: Congratulations, your proposal has passed. 

Victor’s low voice is at my ear, tinged with a smile. 

Not knowing if I should be happy or not, I mutter softly.

MC: This can hardly be called winning...

Victor: I didn’t say that you won. I already passed your proposal last night. You didn’t check your e-mail after work.

Victor’s breath descends on the side of my neck, bringing with it a ticklish residual heat and water vapour. His embrace limits my movements, and my line of sight is confined to the frizz on the billiard table. 

MC: ...

Victor: This round of creativity is indeed very risky. If you lose against the market-

MC: I will win!

Without waiting for him to finish, I cut him off. 

MC: If it fails, I’ll double this year’s revenue!

I express my attitude decisively. Victor suddenly lowers his head and leans even closer. 

The sudden closing of distance magnifies every small detail between us. I can smell his cool and clear scent, and hear every one of his steady breaths. 

Victor: I’ll wait and see. 

Victor’s body temperature seeps through his thin shirt, covering my slightly trembling back. 

Flustered, I try to turn around. Just as I turn my head, my cheek is pressed against his chin. 

At this moment, the doors are suddenly flung open. Mr Sheng and a group of others are chatting heartily and about to enter the room. Seeing Victor and I, they pause. 

Realising in shock that the position Victor and I are in appears too intimate, I hurriedly squirm out from under his arm, and stand at a corner silently. 

On the other hand, Victor calmly straightens up, looking straight at the audience.

Mr Sheng gives me a knowing smile. There’s even a bit of unexpected fondness in his eyes...

Mr Sheng: CEO Victor, I was going to introduce you to two friends who just returned from Wall Street.

Victor retrieves his business card from his pocket, and a small hairpin falls onto the ground. 

It’s a red hairpin with a small bowknot on it. There are even two coloured diamonds embedded on the bowknot...

Everyone’s attention is focused on the hairpin. 

At that moment, a sentence flashes across my mind: I’m doomed.

With a blank expression, he stoops down to pick up the hairpin, and looks at me without a trace of surprise. 

Victor: When did you put this into my pocket? 

Sensing the playful glances from the crowd of onlookers, my cheeks flush involuntarily. 

MC: I... don’t remember the specific moment, but I did it when you weren’t paying attention...

Victor knits his eyebrows, revealing a perplexed expression. 

Victor: Another gift for me? 

MC: Yes. 

After speaking, I have a “since I’m going to die, I might as well make it worth it” attitude, and continue.

MC: You can use this hairpin to clip up your bangs. I think it’s quite practical when used during work...

Even though I’m certain that I’m speaking in a volume only Victor and I can hear, everybody’s teasing smiles make me feel uneasy...

Victor has maintained the reputation of a thousand-year iceberg for so long. I’m afraid it has been ruined by my hands on this night. 

Victor: What nonsense are you thinking about the entire day...

While saying this, Victor puts the small hairpin back into his pocket. 

Victor’s reputation is still a formidable one. Even if Victor doesn’t explain himself, the gossip of the onlookers end as soon as he takes out his business card. 

All the way till the end of dinner, I obediently maintain a smile, not daring to mention the hairpin to Victor. 

On our way home, after much rumination, I decide to give Victor a solemn apology. Before the apology leaves my lips, Victor brings up the topic. 

Victor: I accept your goodwill entirely. Could you stop giving me gifts now? 

I nod reluctantly, but still struggle with my apology. 

MC: I’m sorry about what happened today...

Victor: What are you sorry for? 

MC: For making a fool out of you in front of so many people.

Victor: No one will think that way.

Victor adjusts the cuffs of his suit with a calm expression on his face. 

It’s as though what happened just now was really not enough to pose an issue to him.

~

After a few days, MC appears before Victor with a exquisitely wrapped present

👀

It’s a 32 page business report...

It contains data from the company’s monthly financial reports, business index data, word-of-mouth surveys from large-scale programs, market share, etc. ever since LFG started funding MC’s company

MC: All the data reflects that our company has had good business this year. We not only filled in the losses, but our profit margin was also 50% higher than expected. 

Victor: So? 

MC: It shows that you have a good eye, and have once again made a successful investment!

I expected him to simply cast a sweeping glance at it. Instead, he starts flipping through the report seriously after hearing my words. 

Every rustle of the paper flipping makes my heart rattle.

I start feeling nervous for no reason, worried that he would be as he usually is, picking out all sorts of mistakes from the report, and fiercely criticising me. 

After some time, he finally closes the report. 

Victor: Not bad. 

MC: ...

MC: !!!

Victor: What kind of an expression is that?

MC: I’m happy! Only a few gifts I gave you received praise...

Victor pulls open a drawer. While he places the report inside, he takes out a few items at the same time and puts them on the desk. 

A salon card, a red hairpin, essential oil for sleep...

Victor: You want me to compliment these things?

I huff, feeling a little guilty. 

MC: I... shall return to my office then? 

Victor looks as though he’s about to say something, but his phone rings. I stand up quietly, silently gesturing an “I’m leaving” with my hands.

Victor: Wait. 

Right after taking two steps, Victor stops me. 

Victor: I’ll pick you up at 6pm.

I turn around to see him covering the bottom half of the phone. I hurriedly nod, and suddenly think of something. 

MC: Have you started using the puppy apron? 

Victor tosses me a glance. After a few seconds of silence, he continues with his phone call. 

Fine...

I’ll record this as an addition to the “Victor Not Saying What He Truly Feels” series.

-

Phone Calls: First // Second

[entropy-game-dev]

Getting organised in 2021

Huh, me? No I mean you! You!

I'm sure many people are looking ahead to 2021, and, with the new year comes renewals of goals, habits, motivation and so forth. I'm not really about that, but I thought now would be an apt time to talk about what I've learnt over the past 2 years regarding project management and keeping motivated. 

Now, I want to preface this blog with my thoughts about the whole "productivity" thing. I make a huge, HUGE distinction between being productive at work and productive on your hobbies. The idea of productivity in the workplace can be used in a manipulative fashion, where one may work themselves to mental and physical exhaustion for the benefit of someone else. Considering most people reading this will probably be on a fixed wage (rather than commission-based), does it really make sense to push oneself harder without getting any immediate, tangible benefit from it?

So that’s my rant for the blog, I promise! Anyway, on the other hand we have productivity on your hobbies, which is a completely different matter. You get out exactly 100% of what you put into your hobby, and it'll benefit you in multiple ways. I don't think I need to sell this to you, as I'm sure most people, myself included, would love to be more productive on their own personal projects. In this blog, I'm going to be talking exclusively about this sort of productivity and how to improve it in a couple of different ways. Again, this is all stuff I've personally tried and tested, so while I am confident this approach will work for me, it may not necessarily work for you. But, you won't know until you try!! So if you're convinced and want to get motivated, read on!

I first want to talk about one's mindset, and then dive into the tools I use. The latter will provide a bit more context for the former, and in the end, the most powerful tool you have is your brain, so use it!

Training your brain

So, the biggest problem I find myself, and other people have, is how to tackle a project and starting a work session. One I start, I find it easy to get into the zone (and this comes back to the choice of tools that augment my workflow), so getting started and knowing what I'm doing is the main thing I have to tackle. 

On the broadest level, I work with a general plan that has been written up previously. This contains all the key points from start to finish, without worrying too much about the detail at this stage. There is some skill involved in identifying what constitutes a "key" point, but this all comes down to practice. For reference, if I estimate something will take a week or two to finish, that's a task. If something will take longer than that, it's more than likely several tasks, and rolling it up into one task will probably cause some decision paralysis. Anything smaller and your list will get too clogged up, and again, decision paralysis. Right, so that's your high level plan done. Cool, but not really going to help you on a day-to-day basis as this will be something to refer to between tasks.

Ok, so now you have a list of chronological tasks. Take the first one and start it. Oh, you don't know where to start? Don't worry, I'm with you. It's important to recognise the mental signs related to approaching a task. If I find myself hesitating or not looking forward to a particular task, it often means I haven't defined it well enough. That means breaking the task down into individual steps, until you're comfortable saying "yep, I can do this right now" with each dot point. Again, it'll take some practice (depending on your hobby) to visualise and write down each step, but it is definitely something that you get used to, and will save you so much time umming and aahing with your program of choice open, but not actually getting any work done. If you are finding that happens more often than not, it breaks your workflow and you can't get into the zone!

A few more general tips. It helps to be consistent with your work. Try to dedicate a regular time to your hobby and you'll find it a lot easier to get into the working mindset and the zone. Allow yourself some days off, but don't use the excuse of "not being motivated enough" as a reason to take time off. What would be better is, if you can't force yourself to, say, program, work on the art, or the sound, or design. But do it consistently! 

Be accountable as well. This means involving others as much as you can - as an example, say you want to discuss a design aspect with a friend and you'll find extra motivation to work on that aspect, and get it ready for someone else to read over. Just having that knowledge of another person looking at your work will bring it to a new level, trust me! You can also be held accountable to people you don't know! Part of the reason why I started this blog and my Twitter account was because I always have in the back of my mind while working, that it'll eventually make its way to my blog. 

Finally, if your hobby has one, make use of the community where possible - get involved and see if there are ready made templates or resources you can use. I know people like to do things without help, and I absolutely respect that, but I find that people have often gone through the same struggles as you, and will provide ways to make your life easier!

Tools of the trade

Ok so I've used a lot of different software and systems in my time, and by process of natural selection the ones that I still use today are the ones that have been most helpful for me! Here's a short list with both the specific thing I use, and in brackets, what I use it for. If you already use something similar that fill a similar role, then my suggestion is to stick with what you know:

ClickUp (Project management, checklists): This is where I keep a list of all my major tasks. You can have checklists nested in checklists which is amazing for planning, and can organise things into broad categories, and tons more. Any good project management software like Trello etc. should support this.

Google Drive (Cloud storage of other assets, easy sharing, MS office replacement): I use this to store anything that isn't code related, and to work on things simultaneously with other people. While this game is a mostly solo effort, I absolutely discuss and show a ton of stuff to my more experienced friends, who in turn provide very helpful feedback. It's much nicer and more organised than sending files through a messaging app or (heaven forbid) emails!

Bitbucket (Source control, cloud storage of code): If you code, you need this. I don't care how small your project is! Actually, smaller projects are better to learn from! Github is definitely used the most for source control, so if you like that more, use it!

Google Keep (Note taking, brain dumps): Ever had a genius idea right before bed? Same, and I use Google Keep to keep track of them. I could use Clickup in this instance but I find the app to be a bit clunky compared to Keep.

Notepad++ (Rapid notes, copypasting error messages): Notepad ++ is what I use mainly for copypasting error messages to look at later, but I also use it when I need to break down a sub-task down, or make a note to do something later without interrupting my flow. The fact that Notepad++ specificaly can have multiple tabs and will save your tabs automatically without you having to manually save it is amazing.

Good 'ol pen and paper (Scratchpad): For those REALLY hard problems that can't be solved in my head, I turn to pen and paper to get my thoughts organised. While I could use something like Notepad++, I find that being able to write and draw anywhere on the paper, and link things up with lines helps immensely to get a clear idea of things.

Summing up

Right, so, that's about it from me. If you have any questions or want me to elaborate on something I've mentioned here, feel free to leave a comment or an ask. In any case, I hope you’re feeling more motivated now, and all the best for your personal projects in 2021!

P.S. I've know I’ve been a bit quiet lately because I'm working on designing the five factions present in the demo - I can't reveal much lore about them (as those will be in logs you'll find in-game), but I will be showing off some more designs and gameplay mechanics in the near future, so look forward to it!

[dongiovannaswife]

little one

this is a small follow up to Ari’s ( @softlimefluff​ ) fic —Ellie’s finally here!! :D 

cw: pregnancy related. other than that, nothing else. 

9:00 PM, Morioh. May 7.

The door opens and Giorno peeks an eye open from the couch, where he’s sitting. The twins are deep asleep on the small cribs brought there by the Foundation —from his spot, and even on his sleepy daze, he gets to see his wife walk into the room, untying her ponytail and letting her curls run down until they land on her waist, framing her shoulders and face when she leans on the couch before her, sighing with a hand over her face.

“Doll.” He murmurs in both a greeting and a call. Standing up, he steps out of the boys’ zone before walking up to her. Reaching a hand out first, he puts her hand back, kissing the back of it and mumbling against the skin of the zone he just kissed. “How did it go? Rohan was almost crying out of happiness —I barely understood your message though his excitement.”

Passing her arms around his waist and leaning her head on his chest, Lena hums, mumbling her answer from her spot. “Ellie is finally here, Gio.” And looking up, he finally gets a glimpse of her eyes; watered, tired but happy at the same time. “It’s a beautiful girl, baby. Her full name,” she blinks back tears, making her eyes focus on the ceiling in an attempt to trick her eyes into ‘forgetting they were crying’ “It’s Eliana,” a single tear runs down her cheek and Giorno’s heart skips a beat but… Shatters at once.

“Lena?” he asks, but she keeps going, grinning now.

“Eliana Reimi Kishibe.” She sobs quietly, burying her face into Giorno’s chest. A surprised Giorno can only hold her close, cradling her head into his chest in the perfect way for her to hear his heartbeat and breathing; to allow a way for her to sync her breathing with his.

Gathering his voice back up, Giorno mumbles. “How does that make you feel, honey?”

The way she rests her head on his chest seems relaxed, all her body says that, but even then, he can’t help but think of something different.

But when Lena looks back at him, all soft and happy, all he can do is melt, letting a smile take over.

“I’m so happy for them —I never expected them to name their baby like… her.”

He nods, “Yeah, it definitely surprised me too. Do you think I can go and meet her? See how’s Ariel doing?”

Lena shakes her head, breaking the hug to step into the bathroom to freshen up despite the need to sleep.

Leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, Giorno takes note of the way she brushes her hair using only her wet fingers —starting from the ends with care. “No, baby. I don’t think you should: you can, of course, but Ari must be exhausted and Ellie too. It’s a big process for both parts, you know.”

Giorno hums, stepping into the bathroom and getting behind her, he reaches out once she’s done unknotting her hair, pulling it into a soft bun. “Mhm. Tomorrow, then.”

Lena nods, looking at her husband through the mirror. His expression while he secures the bun so it doesn’t fall off and doesn’t mess up with her hair one to behold, “How are the boys? Were they fussy?”

“Just a bit,” turning her around, Giorno soon leans his hands on the sink, leaning close so they can talk without having to lower their voices too much. “They did ask for you all day, but understood when I said you were working on something.”

She nods, looking back at where the boys are asleep. Taking Giorno’s arm, she silently guides him out the bathroom, walking up to the sleeping twins.

Sitting by them, she leans in, kissing their foreheads and laughing a bit when both sigh right after the contact, settling in.

“Are you hungry?”

She shakes her head, “Just tired.”

Giorno smiles, walking into the kitchen without a word. Coming back, he hides something behind his back with a grin. “I knew you’d say that so,” he shows her the bottle; its orange content something she recognizes immediately. “Carrot juice for my queen.”

Upon Lena’s giggle, he sits down, giving her the bottle. “I’ll take the boys to the room while you drink that, okay? I’d hate to see you sick so,” he leans in for a short peck before standing up. “Enjoy your drink.”

She nods, opening the bottle and watching through sips how Giorno moves the boys into the room.

Giorno’s thoughts are filled with wonder —Rohan had told them, in detail, how it was like to grow up with Reimi; he already knew something from Jotaro, but hearing the version from the person who was close with her had more impact.

Now, to hear that same boy had grown up, got married and named his daughter after the person who saved him, it definitely sparked something on his chest —it tugged his heartstrings to the point of admiration. Not like he didn’t respect and admire Rohan and Ariel before, but now, something felt… different. Inspiring, even.

Setting Jovi on his crib and making sure he’s warm and safe, he comes to the conclusion that he can’t wait to meet little Eliana.

Coming back into the living room, he’s met with the image of his wife lying down on the couch with Ares under her arm and the bottle of juice properly closed and on the table —almost immediately, he thinks back to the time she fell asleep on his shoulder when they were still dating: the way he blushed and got flustered over the sight of his girlfriend asleep by his side, a sight he got lucky to see every day.

“Lena,” he calls, kneeling by her side. Ares’ blue eyes give him a short look before he’s dozing off again.

“Lena, doll.” He calls again, slipping a hand to her cheekbone, where he takes the time to trace it and feel her warmth. “Let’s take you to bed, yes? And change you, you’re still in your uniform.”

“Así estoy bien, gracias.”  I’m okay like this, thank you.

How he wanted to laugh like a maniac —that was not the answer he was expecting. It was worth a reminder later.

“Eh, no, tesoro. You need comfy clothes for bed, okay? And the bed is way comfier than the couch.” Slipping his hands under her, he scoops her up bridal style, carrying her to their bedroom with only her low mumble of something he could translate to ‘you win.’

  Next morning, 8:35 AM.

Giorno’s hands are filled with presents as he walks into Ari’s room, with Westwood holding the door open and Mista helping with Dante; Lena, by the end of them, comes in with Jovi in her arms.

“Good morning, Han, Ari.” The Donna greets them, sitting down with a tired sigh. “How are you, Ari?”

“’M good,” she mumbles, trying to blink the sleep away —eyes glued to the baby in Rohan’s arms.

“I…” Giorno speaks up for the first time, setting down a smaller box on top of the multiple bigger ones. “Got a little excited and brought some things.”

“Thank you, Gio. You didn’t have to.” Rohan speaks this time, looking up from Ellie’s face to Giorno’s —the soft look in his eyes says it all when he stands, walking up to Giorno. “I want you to meet someone, Ellie.” He whispers, looking back at his daughter; even when his eyes are bloodshot and the bags under them stand out more than anything, his expression does say he’s the happiest man in the world.

“Gio,” he comes to a stop before the Don, leaning a bit so the taller man can see. “This is Ellie.”

Giorno’s smile is there before he knows it —a warm feeling spreads through his chest and being, bringing with it the need to protect and watch over her while she grows up. Extending a hand out, he slips his finger into Eliana’s hand, chuckling when she grabs at his finger, smacking her lips a few times before settling in.

“Rohan, Ariel.” Giorno calls, looking between them. “I’m her uncle now, right?”

Ariel grins, chuckling a little. Finally awake, she watches from her bed the exchange. “Yes, you are.”

“What kind of question is that, Giovanna?” Rohan teases, unable to look up from the baby in his arms.

“He’s having a moment, guys.” Lena joins in the teasing, hiding her grin when she kisses Jovi’s head.

“I mean,” Giorno finally recovers, unable to hide his happiness. “…Nevermind, I don’t know why I asked that.”

Rohan chuckles, shaking his head. Ellie moves a little upon the loss of contact with Giorno, but as soon as Rohan goes back to Ari, letting her carry Ellie, the little one settles back in, comforted by her mother’s warmth.

“Dada?” Jovi suddenly asks, pointing at Ellie and Ariel, big eyes and mouth in a perfect ‘o’.

“Auntie Ariel, buddy. And the little one is Ellie.”

Jovi nods, closing his eyes, “Niiiice.”

Giorno laughs, nodding —Dante extends his arms out to him, asking to be held.

“Woah, buddy.” Mista chuckles, letting Dante go with his dad.

Petting Dante’s head, Giorno hums in Ellie’s direction, making the boy look at her immediately. “See, buddy? Ellie’s here. Say hi to her.”

The boy nods, grinning when he looks back at Ariel and Ellie, raising his voice in excitement. “Hi, hi! E—Edlie! Awii!”

Giorno nods, chuckling and letting the boy greet everyone in the room.

Despite Dante’s voice, Giorno still looks back at Ariel and Rohan, smiling warmly at them. “Congratulations, guys.” And last, he steals a look at his wife. Almost like he’s thinking of something before he looks back in time to see the couple smile and bow their heads.

[strangergrove]

× VOL 001 × 04.19.2020 ×

TUMBLR | @bambixxblue AO3 | moonlight_xx

× these hearts adore (every other beat, the other one beats for) ×

WORD COUNT: 10,569

CHAPTERS: 2/?

My Tumblr prompt fics all in one place. Some pining, some angst, but usually always a damn happy ending.

1. peach, curve of an ear, coffee grounds, veined hands, thunder

2. ways to say 'i love you' - 'i brought you an umbrella.'

The writing in this is so exquisite. It feels like cracking open a favourite book on a rainy Sunday morning, when the rest of the world is still asleep. It's comforting and poetic and incredibly heartwarming.

The first chapter takes us along on a sweet little vacation to California, a last hurrah of sorts, before the kids head off to college. It's sweet and peach-soaked and you can feel the ocean breeze against your skin with every passing word. It's the exact brand of happiness our boys deserve.

The second part is an achingly beautiful redemption for Billy. He learns how to let his wounds heal, learns how to let others in, learns how to trust and love. His initial interactions when he meets Steve are so precious and it shows how complex of a person he is, the softness beneath his concrete shell. I will devour any update to this amazing collection.

× the light of day shows me how ×

WORD COUNT: 39,173

CHAPTERS: 7/7

And from Robin, a single picture: the official cast list.

ROMEO MONTAGUE...BILLY HARGROVE

JULIET “JULIAN” CAPULET...STEVE HARRINGTON

Ah, fuck.

(or, Steve and Billy are in ballet school. They're cast in LGBT+ Romeo and Juliet. Featuring mutual pining, angst to fluff, and an Ancient Slavic demon cult. It gets weird.)

This is such a fun read. The spattering of background into the story really carves out the characters so well, choreographing the story in such a way that you fall into their lives without realizing it. You sit down to watch Steve practice his role for Julian and suddenly find yourself wondering if that small stutter you just saw has anything to do with any number of little details you know of his past. You see Billy storm across the studio floor and know that he’s trying to bury something that keeps resurfacing, but he refuses to let anyone help him.

It’s wonderful watching the way the boys play off of each other, pushing one another to better themselves in both their dance and their personal lives. Watching Steve fumble with his newfound and confusing feelings is sweet, hopeful, just waiting, waiting for it to tip over the edge, for the boys to fall into the space they’ve always belong: by each other’s side.

I’ve never done ballet, only watched it here and there in movies and shows, but I fell in love with this story, the way their dances are described, their movements. So if you’ve never been that into ballet, don’t let that deter you from reading this story. It’s so much more than just ballet.

× friends should sleep in other beds ×

WORD COUNT: 13,517

CHAPTERS: 2/2

It isn’t easy being in love with your best friend.

It especially isn’t easy being in love with your best friend if he’s the practical-Godfather of your university.

(or, 'I won't let anyone hurt you; you're safe with me' prompt fill where Steve thinks his love is one-sided but it absolutely isn't. Feat. loving girlfriends and Hawaiian vacations.)

This story is beyond achingly stunning. It’s all whirlwinds and longing and the white-knuckle deathgrip of trying to hold onto something you’re convinced is going to slip away. The deep, binding relationship between Billy and Steve is beautiful and heartbreaking and hopeful at the same time. Both characters have obvious trenches of emotional trauma they’ve had to trudge through to get where they are, trenches they’re still slowly crawling their ways out of.

The words are so wonderfully crafted that I felt the sway and break of Steve’s emotions at the same time he did. I felt the longing, the sorrow, the sputtering flame of hope that just refuses to gutter and die. I want to say I wanted more of this story, but I don’t know if my heart could have handled it. No, it was the perfect length, detailing the long harrowing journey of love and friendship, of finding family that doesn’t come from blood, of holding desperately onto things that are worth the bruises they leave on your fingers.

TUMBLR | @cameorabbit AO3 | CaffeinatedBunny

× Life Is Sweet ×

WORD COUNT: 8,676

CHAPTERS: 4/4

Snapshots of domestic bliss, between loving boyfriends.

(This story will be marked as complete but I will be adding chapters as the muses come to me or when I need a break from some of my larger wip)

This wonderful little collection offers us a sweet insight into the boys' relationship. We get small glimpses into the boys' pasts that add layers to the stories. We get to see little snippets of Steve's relationship with his mother and grandmother. We get to see Billy's insecurities. 

Each story has it’s own little theme, if you will, from baking Christmas cookies to battling insecurities in their relationship. Each story gives us a little more, brings us a little deeper into these boys’ lives, adds that next layer to them that has you coming back to see how they’ve developed. I'm looking forward to any future additions to this collection.

× When I run out of road (You bring me Home) ×

WORD COUNT: 5,316

CHAPTERS: 1/1

The road back to Hawkins Indiana is long and tedious with neither of them really wanting to reach their destination; so to distract them both Billy has a plan to make it as pleasurable for both of them as he can.

Uffda. This was a fun read. Now, before I dive into the review, just a heads up: this is a PWP with dom/sub. And apologies in advance for my inability to be eloquent about smut.

The dynamic between the two was a joy to read. Steve's mannerisms as a baby and the way Billy handles him as his Daddy was fantastic. It's not heavy dom/sub here, but you can tell they've had this relationship for a while. They're both comfortable in their roles and both know exactly what they're doing, and how to get a rise out of each other. But between the power play and the drops of backstory, there's actually some beautiful writing here, too. There were a few lines that I found myself rereading just because they sounded beautiful.

Also, I just have to say... The way Billy handles his own cock... Why do I love that so much? Just little things, too, like tapping it against the steering wheel while he's teasing Steve.

× I'll Keep you Mine ×

WORD COUNT: 3,926

CHAPTERS: 1/1

Billy's forged a kingdom and took an empty throne, and he'll burn anyone and anything that tries to take it from him.

(My Dudes this whole story is pretty much the Grumpy Possessive one claims the Sunshine One - Literally. And I ain't even mad.)

Here we get a gorgeously written tale that spins the events of the Upside Down in a different light. I don't want to spoil what that is, as it's not explicitly stated in the summary or tags, so you'll have to read to find out! This idea could easily be fleshed out into a much longer piece, but there's also something about just getting a small taste of an idea that is very enjoyable.

There is this persistent sense of danger beneath all the beautiful imagery. It's in the pacing of the story, in the way Billy needs to claim Steve. We get enough of a taste of this otherness to want more, to want to see exactly how everything unfolds.

TUMBLR | @wickedlydevious AO3 | wickedlydevious

× Weak Hands, Weak Lungs, Strong Heart ×

SERIES: Strong Heart

WORD COUNT: 2,771

CHAPTERS: 1/1

After the events at Starcourt Mall, Billy is recovering in the hospital and bored out of his mind. The only bright spots are when Max comes to visit.

And then Steve Harrington starts visiting too and that's even better.

There is a very beautiful light and warmth throughout this story. Billy's character feels so accurate, and the way he deals with being in the hospital and everything that entails is exquisitely portrayed here. What Billy has to deal with in the wake of the Mind Flayer grates against his entire personality, but it forces him to step outside of his comfort zone, outside of himself, and relearn how to interact with people, namely Steve.

The thing I loved most about this story is that we get to see these different facets of Billy, facets that maybe even he didn't really know were there, ones he never allowed himself to show because of his father. Still recovering, still being dependent on other people forces these different aspects of him into the world, and it's beautiful. It creates this very special sort of relationship between Billy and Steve that is just so pure and heart warming. I'll definitely be coming back to this when I need a spark of joy.

× Weak Backbone, Strong Convictions ×

SERIES: Strong Heart

WORD COUNT: 3,212

CHAPTERS: 1/1

After the events at Starcourt Mall, Steve starts bringing Max to visit Billy at the hospital.

And then Steve starts visiting on his own.

The sweetness continues with the second part of the Strong Heart series. The events of the first part are retold, but this time through Steve's POV. I've always loved the idea of telling the same events from different perspectives and this did not disappoint. The events may be the same, but you feel them differently than when they were told through Billy's perspective. Though the tone of the previous installation is ultimately uplifting, it's clear Billy is struggling. This part, however, is overflowing with hope, which only adds to the already beautiful feeling of the last piece. Don't think that because you already know the events that will take place because you read the last part that you shouldn't read this one. It's beautiful and moving and there are moments added that would be a shame to miss out on. I really hope this series continues, because it is wonderfully uplifting, but it stands strong all the same, just as it is.

× T(h)ree Mistakes ×

WORD COUNT: 4,559

CHAPTERS: 1/1

It’s their first Christmas in their own apartment and Steve reluctantly tasks Billy with getting the tree.

Mistakes are made.

This is a great read for the holidays. Billy's tree-getting adventures brought back so many memories of going to the tree farm down the road from our house as a kid and making a day of trying to find a tree that didn't look like trash and wouldn't break the bank. The feel of the story is cozy and sweet, like a warm and sleepy holiday morning. The kids, now teens, make a short but fun appearance that really makes this story feel like it's about found family. 

This story is like coming home, rounding up all of your best friends you haven’t seen in ages, and making a night of the holidays. It’s sipping eggnog, the lights turned down low, and listening to the sweet croon of gentle music somewhere in the house. This story is comfort and happiness and love. Now I want some hot apple cider...

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Chapter 5. Truth or Dare

‘TRUE BEAUTY is not of the body or of the face, no, it is a thing of the soul - of fire and air, breath and spirit, something brave and unafraid.’ Segovia Amil

The door opened without a knock; I saw through the reflection in the mirror Cadie stop herself from walking straight in, instead fixing her posture and looking solemnly at us.

“Excuse me, Ma’am.” She said, formally.

“Don’t bother with formalities on my account, Cade.” Louis told her, grinning. “We’re all friends here. I won’t tell Auguste you usually call my sister by her name.”

The secretary grinned, but didn’t move. “There’s a delivery for you.”

“For me?” She replied with a nod. 

“I think it’s a dress.”

“Oh!” Louis exclaimed, jumping up from his seat in the two-seat sofa in front of my bed. 

I raised a hand in pause to Cass, who was just about finished doing my hair, and turned around to eye my brother suspiciously.

“What is it? And why is it in my name?”

“It’s for you.” He said, walking to the door and speaking to someone outside. “In here, please!”

The Prince of Wales’ butler walked in, solemnly carrying a garment bag over both his arms, which he laid over the couch where Louis had been sitting, before turning around to bow to the both of us, and leave as swiftly as he had come.

“If it’s for me how come I don’t know anything about it?!”

“It’s a surprise.” He shrugged, smiley. “Cass, are you done over there?”

Cass, who had been discreetly spraying my hair as we talked, pulled another couple of strands leading into my bun and took a step back.

“Look at me, please, ma’am? Oh, yes, I’m done. Beautiful!”

I looked in the mirror. My hair was pulled loosely to the back in a bun, with strands falling artfully to the sides of my face. Atop my head, sat Empress Eugénie's 1853 pearl and diamonds tiara, commissioned by Napoleon III to celebrate their marriage. It was adorned with 212 pearls and 1998 diamonds. After Napoleon III’s 1870 defeat, the tiara was surrendered to the Savoyen Royal Family and now it laid on my hair. It was one of my favorites from the Savoyen Crown jewels vault, and Maman had sent me with Georgian pearl earrings to match, which I picked up as Louis rushed Cass and Cadie out of the room.

“I already have a dress, Lou.” I told him, approaching the garment bag.

“How would you know it’s a dress?” He asked, teasingly, to which I only gave him a suspicious look with one raised brow. “Okay, fine, it’s a dress…”

He pat a chair next to the bag and I sat down, just as he sat in the coffee table in front and held both my hands in his.

He cleared his throat. “As I have expressed, I am sorry for the things I said when we were fighting.”

I watched him, silently, then nodded slowly. “Okay?”

“However, there is something I have been meaning to talk to you about, which may have transpired during our, uhm, bagarre.”

“...yes?”

“Maggie, you have to stop letting mom and dad walk all over you.”

“I do not-”

“You have worn at least three outfits this tour I know for a fact that you wouldn't even have purchased if it weren’t to make sure Maman wouldn’t have something to criticize.”

“Excuse you, I think my outfits were very cute!”

“I didn’t say they weren’t!” He clarified, pointing a finger at me. “All I said was… they weren’t you.”

I sighed, resting my back against the chair.

I couldn’t say I hadn’t noticed before that every time I had to do something regal there was a tiny voice in the back of my head wondering, what will mom approve of? before I chose an outfit. Her style had more of a conservative, 50s debutant vibe, while I tended to be more romantic yet modern. It was a fine line that separated both styles, and the advantage usually fell to my mother.

“She’s a very stylish woman.” I countered, and he nodded enthusiastically.

“She sure is. And you are twenty-five years-old! You should be allowed to wear things that are… out there, daring, iconic!”

I laughed. “I’m not exactly a fashion icon!”

“My point exactly. You could be.”

“Louis-”

“I know you have style! I have seen it! You just hold it back because you think you have to!”

“I do have to.”

“It’s the twenty-first century! The Swede Princesses show a lot more skin than you do!”

“They don’t have our mom breathing down their necks.”

“Maggie, fashion is supposed to be fun! But you need a little bit of courage to really shine in it.”

I sighed. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

He leaned back and crossed his legs, confidently. “Let me guess, the dress maman chose for you for tonight's of a light shade, probably blue to match your angelic eyes, with a simple silhouette that covers everything God gave you, am I right?”

I didn’t have to answer; he knew he was right, so instead he merely walked over to his delivery as he spoke.

“I have made some very good contacts since I moved to Britain, in part thanks to religiously attending London Fashion Week. So I made a call.”

He dramatically opened the bag, to reveal a strong, smooth red fabric. 

“Red?!”

“I looked it up, the Duchess of Cambridge herself has worn red to a previous state dinner.”

I bit my lip. It did look quite pretty. And much more interesting than the very conservative choice my mother had made.

“Okay, I’ll try it on.” He squealed as I got to my feet. “But just because I’m curious! If I feel it’s too much cleavage, or too out there, I’m putting on the blue dress.”

“Yes!” He threw the garment bag at me and ran to the door. “I’ll go get dressed as you do that, and send Cadie in to help you.”

As I rummaged through the bag, I saw another thing inside.

“Spanx, Louis?!”

He closed the door with a thud.

I needed Cadie’s help to get everything on without damaging my makeup, hair or losing the tiara in the mess, but at last, I was ready. 

Cadie approved it. “It’s perfect!” She breathed, amazed.

I walked out of the bathroom to the full body mirror in the room, finding Louis sitting in the sofa again. His eyes widened as he saw me. “Woah.”

“Strapless?!” I asked him, unfazed. “Lou, you know I can’t show cleavage on a state dinner!”

“Oh, no, mustn't let the British know you have arms!” He rolled his eyes, getting to his feet. “What will they tell the church?!”

“Lou!”

“Relax, look, it’s an upper neckline, you’ll be fine! Again, the Swedes wear strapless all the time”

“We’re not Swedish!”

“To be fair, the draping does cover much of your chest.” Cadie added, to Louis’ joy.

“Thank you, Cadie. Why don’t you go wait outside?” I told her, with an eye roll. She left, grinning.

The shape of the dress was almost a mermaid-cut, but the draping made it a lot loser in the lower-body, and added a very interesting detail to the hips; in my case, making it look like I had some.

I sighed. “It’s… beautiful.”

“But?”

“There’s a lot that goes into choosing a dress for an event like this, I can’t just change it last minute.”

“Your tiara matches, I made sure of it. The dress is tighter on your body, but not that much that Maman will have any right to criticize, the dress is red, which is new for you but not against the rules, and most importantly, out of your comfort zone! With the added bonus of the sexy factor!”

“This is the gayest you’ve sounded in your life.”

He put a hand to his heart. “Thank you!”

“I shouldn’t be looking sexy in a state dinner, anyway.”

Through the mirror, I watched him give the windows a look he seemed to be hoping I would see. 

“What?!”

“Well, you know, that is true… unless there’s a very handsome man in the state dinner who’s been shamelessly flirting with you for three days straight.”

I rolled my eyes, but smiled despite myself. “I was wondering if that had any influence over this intervention.”

“No!” He replied, quickly. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Although you gotta admit, it’s perfect timing!”

“Harry’s just being…”

“Nice?” He asked, sarcastically, before walking over to adjust the drape. “What’s wrong with nice? You deserve nice.”

He placed a hand over my arm and looked at me in the mirror.

“Chris didn’t deserve you. You know that, right?”

I wanted to roll my eyes at him for bringing him up again, but instead I just nodded, trying to allow the words to take root in my heart.

“But Harry might.” He shrugged. “He seems to at least know you’re way out of his league, that is more than Chris already.” We chuckled. “So wear the dress. Feel as powerful as I know you are and let him know it too.”

So I held his hand, took a deep breath, and said, “Okay.”

---- ---- ---- ---- 

Once you’ve seen one palace, you’ve seen them all: high ceilings, golden fixtures, red carpets. The one thing that changes is the art in the walls, the people in the paintings, the era of the vases. Buckingham Palace was not different, which is why I wasn't taking too much notice of it as we walked in that night; I had spent our first day in the country admiring Buckingham, tonight was about more.

Tonight was the ultimate opportunity we had to show the world how friendly our countries' relation was, so that the people might pressure their politicians into putting work into fixing the immigrant crisis. In a more direct way, the star of the night were the speeches by the Queen and King. In an indirect way, I had been informed by Cadie on the way over that the pictures of Louis and me with the Cambridges and Harry had become very popular online, and that it wouldn't hurt to look as friendly as possible.

That would be harder, though, because on state dinners the seating chart was made very carefully so that the main visiting royals can mingle with the hosts, and the spare royals can give their attention to the other guests, so they feel heard.

As we walked in, I suddenly felt absolutely wrong in the dress. Though there was limited photographers in State Dinners, they were definitely there. Particularly at our arrival. The flashes were so blinding I could only focus on walking without tripping over my train, but in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but wish I was wearing my comfortable, old blue. Louis had prepared me for it, though.

Back in Clarence House, as we descended the staircase, the last ones to be ready, he reminded me that everything new felt wrong until it didn’t. That was easier to say when all he had to wear was a boring tuxedo he had worn at least twenty times prior. 

When we walked into the living room, the conversation stopped. My father and our five person staff stared at me, head to toe, mouths opened, as my brother offered them a cocky look. 

“Well,” I said, “I’m ready. Shall we go?”

Though Auguste said nothing, he looked as though he wanted to, but reconsidered when my father merely smiled, offering me his arm, and we made our way out.

Now, walking into the palace, I was reconsidering the choice myself. The dress was beautiful, my hair and makeup were perfectly in place thanks to Arnie’s flawless work, the tiara was a dream come alive; it was me. I was a pile of nerves. 

As Louis offered me his hand to climb up the steps, he looked at me, confused. 

“Why are you shaking?” 

I shrugged, and he grinned.

“Just you wait.” He replied when I questioned this.

Dad led the way, greeting Her Majesty with a kiss on each cheek, before taking one step to say hello to the Prince of Wales and his wife, just down the line. As the heir, Louis was next, so he stepped forward and bowed his head before kissing her as well.

“Your Majesty, is it 1956? Because you look barely a day over 30.”

The Queen let out a naughty giggle, caressing the diamonds in her bracelet shyly. 

He was going to make a fantastic King.

“Your Majesty.” I said, bowing down in a curtsey when it was my turn. 

“Princess Margueritte.” She greeted as I, too, kissed her cheeks. “You’ve been making quite a ruckus these last couple of days.”

I looked at her, feeling my head tilt sideways. “Have I?”

“I hope my grandson hasn’t bothered you too much.”

“Oh. No! Harry? No. He is… No!” I assured her, feeling my myself blush. “Uhm. He, he is-”

“He's always been a bit like a shark like that. If they stop swimming, they die. Well, he does if he stops flirting.”

I laughed, aware we were being filmed, hoping the press wasn't close enough to pick audio, trying to look as unbothered as possible.

"He's been very friendly and... Welcoming."

"I'm sure."

"What is it?" asked the Prince of Wales, drawing the attention of my father, brother and the Duchess. I shook my head, but the Queen told him merely, "Harry".

It seemed to be enough, though, as the whole group nodded, grinning.

"Oh, yes. It seems my son is a bit taken with your daughter." The prince told my father.

Though his mouth said "oh" in an amused way, I could tell it wasn't the first time he heard of this. 

“It doesn’t help she’s exactly his type.“ The duchess commented, making the group laugh again, so I‌ attempted to hold a steady, polite smile on my face.

We moved on to mingle and get in our positions to enter the dining hall; as the guest of honor, since Dad was here, there wasn’t anyone else to wait for. The rest of the guests were already in the dining hall, probably being told to find their seats now. The royal families - hosts and guests - were to enter later, so for now we could be ourselves and enjoy some privacy.

“Breathe.” Louis told me again, as we followed dad around the room. “You look about to pass out.”

“What did she mean by ‘his type’, you think?” I asked him, in a whisper.

“He’s probably dated someone who looks like you.” He replied, grinning.

“More than one... but ‘his type’, though. You think he just likes me because I’m blonde? He just likes my looks?”

“Great relationships have started with looks.” He said, turning around to face me, stopping me in my tracks. “How do you know he’s dated more than one person who looks like you? Have you stalked him online?”

I rolled my eyes, turning to look around the room. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You have a tell, Maggie. When you’re lying you look away so people can’t see your eyes.” 

Instead of dignifying his - smart - insight with an answer, I merely hooked my arm in his and walked off, having just identified the people I’d been looking for, and trying to ignore the smile on Louis’ face when he realized where we were going.

“Good evening.”

Though Harry had his back to me, I could watch the reaction of his brother and sister-in-law. They looked at me as I approached, unsurprised I was coming; almost as though they had seen me already. When I got to them, instead of greeting us, their eyes went to Harry. 

His shoulders squared back in a long breath, and then he turned around and looked at me. I watched his mouth open and his eyes widen, both so slightly it made me question if I’d imagined it, but also so obvious I wanted to turn around and go back to Clarence House to get changed immediately. It didn’t help he looked me up and down quickly and then gulped, before averting his eyes.

“You both look very dapper tonight.” Catherine said, smiling awkwardly between her brother-in-law and us. She was wearing a dark blue gown and a diamond tiara, hair half up, half down.

“Thank you!” Louis said, returning her smile with none of the awkwardness, and a lot of amusement. 

“Yes, we’re very happy to have you.” William said, looking equally as amused. “I’m afraid you’re at the boring table today, Louis.”

Catherine gently edged her elbow to her husband’s arm. “Don’t say boring.” She whispered, making Louis laugh. 

“Trust me, I understand what you mean.” He replied; I tried to smile, as it felt like that was the tone the conversation required. But it was hard when Harry still hadn’t looked back at me. “What is the party table, though? Does Harry get a round of Bubbly Pong going?”

They laughed, I mimicked. Harry looked around the room very still. There was an uncomfortable silence as the laughter died down, and suddenly there was a British aide telling us it was time to get to our places in line to enter the dining room. 

I gladly took the excuse to move away, feeling sick to my stomach. Had I been excited before? I hardly remembered it anymore. 

“I’m in the boring table, too.” Catherine told me, walking quickly to catch up to me as we moved to the middle of the line as the heirs went forward. “It was terrifying on my first time at one of these, but I’ve come to find you can have some interesting conversations, don’t you think?”

I smiled, remembering her nerves from the car the day before. “No, you’re right, it’s not that bad, actually. Though, it’s not as interesting as it seems to outsiders, either, I suppose. My sister is convinced there’s dancing, like in a ball in a Disney movie.” 

She laughed, looked back, and then added, whispery, “You make him nervous.”

“What?”

“I’m over there, I’ll talk to you later, I hope.” 

We exchanged a smile, even if mine was a bit confused, and she moved to stand next to the Prime Minister.

“You know, in Britain only the married women attend these,” Harry started, standing next to me in line. “And you wouldn’t be allowed to wear one of those until married, either.” He said, staring at the tiara in my head with - I was happy to see - some reverence.

“In Savoy, unmarried women can wear tiaras as long as they’re over twenty-one. Good thing I’m not British.” I said, on a low tone, glad Auguste couldn’t hear such an undiplomatic sentiment. 

He grinned. “Yes. I’m very glad about that.” 

I looked around, seeing the line basically done. “Are you not going to find your place?”

“I think I’m right where I belong.” 

“With me?” I asked, surprised; he returned a flirty smile.

“Yes, Mary, with you.” I rolled my eyes, grinning.

“Do you get all your pickup lines from Taylor Swift songs?” He laughed a bit louder than the current volume level in the room, and more than one pair of eyes turned to look at us.

Usually they wouldn’t pair the ‘lower royals’ together like this. The high ranking ones, yes; queen and king, heir with heir. My father and Louis were both ahead, and would be sitting at the head of the table, with William and Catherine, I supposed. But Harry and I should have been paired with diplomats or dignitaries. 

As we walked into the room, to the sound of their national anthem, I noticed two important things. One, Harry looked very handsome in white tie and tails, with his military medals pinned to his chest. Two, as we walked, he gave a grateful smile to a nearby aide, and I wondered if he had arranged to be seated with me. I felt… strangely flattered. 

As we got to the table, and the anthem finished, a staffer pulled the chair for me, and we were all seated in silence as, at the center part of the table, they prepared for the speeches.

“I don’t think I can stress this enough, Mary.” He said, whispery, leaning closer to me than it was necessary.

“Marie.” I corrected, now more teasingly than anything else, making him smile as he looked into my eyes.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

I didn’t have a teasing answer for that; I could barely think straight as he kept staring into my eyes from so close. 

Suddenly, however, his grandmother’s voice startled us both out of it and we stared ahead as she began to speak.

It felt as though the Queen and my father spoke for hours; I‌ kept my eyes focused ahead hoping to steady my breath and sweaty palms enough to be able to look back at Harry at some point in the night.

Luckily, by the time they started serving the entrees, I‌ had remembered that due to the dinner etiquette I was supposed to make conversation to the man by my other side before Harry. So I took in a deep breath, smiled politely, and asked him about his work.

By the time it was our turn to talk, he gave me a friendly smile and said,

“Dare.”

I sighed a short giggle. We had, now that I‌ thought about, left the truth and dare game unfinished the day before. I‌ had answered last, so I supposed it was his turn. I cracked my brain to think of something that was good, but not scandalous. 

“I dare you to,”‌ I‌ started, slowly, staring into his water glass, “tap you fork to your glass loudly to call the attention of the room to yourself, get up, and improvise a speech in honor of my father.”

He barked out a laughter that started louder than any of us thought was appropriate, and we quickly ducked our heads down to hide our playful grins and blushing cheeks; Harry was still laughing. Taking a deep breath, he looked around the room. 

“I can’t!”‌‌‌ He replied. “It’s not protocol, it’ll be too weird. It will make the news!”

I sighed, smiling. ‌“Alright, then. I‌ suppose you could… start coughing when the staffer comes back for our plates and then dramatically grab his sleeve and pretend to have an allergic reaction.”

This time his eyes widened as he laughed, leaning closer to me. “Are you trying to get me disowned?!” 

I‌ laughed.‌ “Too much? Okay. I dare you to…”‌ I looked around the room, thinking. 

The table was shaped like an upside-down U. The Queen and her guests were at the top, horizontal edge; Harry and I were at the start of one of the legs, close to the curve of the table, which was narrow and had no one sitting there. The person closest to the other gentleman on my side, was Catherine, and by her side, ‌my brother.

“I dare you to throw a pea on my brother’s wine glass.” 

He leaned closer to me in order to see around the tall centerpiece arrangement in the middle of the table. He smelled of… lime, possibly? And I‌ felt myself leaning back towards him to smell it better.

“Hm, how about Cath? She’s more in my line of vision.”

“No!” I‌ whispered, making one of his eyebrows raise slightly above the other. “She’s nice, I‌ don’t want to mess with her.”

“And your brother isn’t nice?”

I rolled my eyes. “My brother has been a royal since birth and is used to me. Your sister-in-law seems to still be trying very hard to… behave the way people expect her to. I‌ don’t want to make that harder.”

He smiled.‌ “How do you know that?”

I‌ shrugged.‌ “I’m observant. Stop stalling. If you won’t do that, then…”‌ I looked back, seeing the staffers come back around to collect our plates. “When they’re removing your plate, I‌ dare you to burp your thank you.”

“For such a pretty girl, you are… disgusting.”

“Ouch.”‌ I said, on a bored monotone, making him fight a smile. 

I‌ kept my eyes ahead as the poor staffer approached by his side to remove the plate, and then I‌ heard a loud and disgusting “thank you”, making me laugh.

We waited until they had left and broke down in a fit of giggles that made me feel very hot; I‌ took a long sip of my water, deciding I had had enough wine for the night.

Throughout the night, the game went on through each course; because I‌ didn’t want him to get any ideas about revenge, I‌ kept choosing truth, and as the first one traumatized him so much, so did he, and we ended up just having a regular conversation. Well, kind of. 

He asked how many people I had ever kissed; I did the quick math in my head and told him nine (Chris was my first everything, as he was a childhood friend, and other than one 7 minutes in heaven incident at 16, the rest were all casual dates during the one time when we broke up during University, and since the last break up). So I asked him the same, and he very quietly, blushing, justified his double digit as he stuttered through a lot of excuses, which I thought was cute. 

He asked what my pet peeve was, and I talked about wanting to scratch my eyes out when people chewed gum open-mouthed. I asked who was his favorite out of all the famous people he had ever met, and he told me about meeting Paul McCartney, which lead me to volunteer my experience in a Paul McCartney concert in New York a few years before, and soon we were exchanging our favorite Beatles songs, and what were our favorite bands as teenagers, which was particularly cringey for both of us (I had an insanely embarrassing obsession with Britney Spears, he had a gangster rap phase).

He asked how old I was when I stopped playing dolls (13), I asked how old he was the last time he peed himself (20, drunk). He asked what was the last text I sent, and I told him about confirming lunch plans with my coworker for the day after tomorrow. I asked him what was the last thing he searched on his phone, and he told me about googling how to tie a bow tie, which earned him a confused look.

“I know, I know. I ought to know it by now. But I told you about my terrible memory. I can never remember.”

“Okay, okay. Tell me one thing on your internet history you wouldn’t want me to know about.”

He stared at his plate, thoughtfully. 

“Well, in the name of our blossoming friendship, I feel I should come clean. After your brother mentioned it at polo, I did google you.”

I nodded. “Yeah, so did I.”

“You did?”‌ I‌ nodded. “Well, may I just say those pictures are low quality, and everything is actually much bigger-”

“I‌ meant I googled myself, you narcissistic piece of work.” I‌ laughed. 

“Oh, you googled yourself and‌ I’m narcissistic?!”

I‌ shrugged.‌ “I guess I wanted to see what you would see if you googled me.”‌

“Well, I‌ saw some adorable childhood pictures.‌ Bangs look cute on you.” I rolled my eyes.‌ 

“Shut up.”

“Found out you have three dogs, amazing. And Christopher looks like trash. You can do better.”

I laughed again, drinking more water just to have an excuse not to have to comment on it.

As we moved to the next course, we took some time to talk to the people on our other sides, so I did my best to focus on the questions the gentleman to my right was asking me.

In the back of my mind, however, something bugged me. I couldn’t stop thinking that he still didn’t know about the first time we met, and the longer I‌ took to tell him, the more uncomfortable it would be when I finally did.

“Truth or dare?”‌ He asked, without preamble, as soon as I turned to him again.

“Truth.”‌ I‌ smiled, hoping he would ask how we met so I could get it over with.

“Which of your siblings is your favorite?”

I‌ sighed; mostly because he had a very irritant, smug grin on his lips. 

“I can’t answer that. Also, it’s so unfair that you only have one so I can’t return this horrible question.”

“Yes, that’s why I asked. Go on, you can do it.”

“Fine. Louis. But I‌ have-”

“Oh, wow, Mary!” He said, mock-shock all over his face.

“You asked!” I‌ said, whispery.

“That is cold!”

“I have reasons!”

“Fine, what are the reasons?”

“I was eleven years-old when Lourdes was born! I love her, of course. But I‌ only had a couple years with her before going to boarding school. Louis is just a few years younger than me, we grew up together! We’re just… closer.”

He nodded. “You went to school abroad, right?”

“Well, I‌ had a year in Savoy, then I‌ transferred to Belgium.”

“One year?”

“Yes, and it was easier to see them then, I came home every weekend, spent as much time with them as I‌ possibly could. Even when I was living in Belgium, actually. I still did my best.”

“You came home often?”

“As often as I could.” I said. “Lourdes was three when our grandfather abdicated due to his age. She will never remember a time when she wasn’t the daughter of a king. I was already off at Belgium by then. I wanted to be… I don’t know, to be…”

“There.”

I sighed. “Well, yes.”

“You felt guilty you were away.”

I looked at him, but didn’t say anything for a while. 

“I don’t- I don’t know. It’s stupid. I know there was nothing I could do, I just… They were so busy, our parents. Busier than ever. And I just... ”

“You didn’t want them to feel alone.” I looked at him, surprised. He shrugged. “Will did the same for me.”

He reached over and took a sip of his wine. “When… everything happened. Not just the divorce, but everything that came after, I think he felt guilty leaving me.” 

I didn’t need to ask what was the ‘all’ that had happened. The entire world knew. For this reason, I think, I wanted to offer something vulnerable in return.

“I came over to Savoy every weekend.” I confessed. “I left school every Friday on a private plane, and went home to see my family as if I still was studying in Savoy. My father shielded me from it, but the press found out and he was under attack for the expense. They called me spoilt, and said my mother insisted I was educated in Belgium out of an unpatriotic whim.”

He gave me a sad look, but I shrugged.

“I just wanted to make sure Louis and Lourdes were alright. I didn’t want them to forget about me, or think I might have forgotten them.”

He nodded. “You want to know what I think?”

I smiled. “I know you’ll tell me.”

He chuckled, silently. “I think you sound like a girl who really liked her country, and her home, and her family, and really wanted to be there, but could not, for some reason, stay in school near them. I wonder why?”

I leaned back, sighing, a grin on my lips. “And what is your theory?”

“Don’t lawyer me, Mary.”

We laughed.

“Marie.”

“It must have been tough.” He added, seriously. 

He didn’t know; he seemed to just… understand.

The staff arrived to remove our plates, and we took some time to ourselves. When they left, I turned to him again.

“The girls didn’t like me.” I confessed, softly. “I see now where they were coming from. I was too… too much. Quiet, but I overcompensated a lot. I had… a lot of opinions, which I mostly shared with the teachers, in class, when forced. I was always called on and, of course, everyone knew, or thought they did, every detail about me, and my family. And they all seemed to think I needed to be… more.”

“More what?”

I shrugged. “Everything. Or maybe less of everything... I don’t know, I just wasn’t enough. I just wanted… for no one to know who I was.”

“So you moved to Belgium.”

I smiled, sadly. “No one cared who my father was there. They found out, eventually. But I already had a couple of nice friends by then. It was all I needed.”

He smiled. “I hated school.”

I rolled my eyes. “Everyone did-”

“No, I… I really did. I’ve never been smart.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m serious. I don’t mean it in self-pity, either. It’s just… I’ve never been good at it. I don’t have an affinity for academics. I never had… an affection for any subjects, at all. I always just liked… the outdoors. The conversations, the connections with others. The adventure. I hated being inside.”

I smiled. “People are different. The only problem is the system that convinces us there’s only one way to be.”

After dessert, as soon as the Queen and King stood up, we were allowed to, as well. We were then ushered to another saloon where drinks were going to be served, and guests could mingle with other guests other than the ones they had been seated with at dinner, and soon after say their official goodbyes to the Queen.

The gentleman that had sat to my right introduced me to his wife, and we talked about their children for a while before I felt the conversation die out and gave a secret signal (adjusting my earrings) for Cadie to rescue me. 

“Hello…” Louis grinned when I‌ joined him, where he was observing our father from a distance.‌ His tone alone got me to blush.

“Shut up.”

“Why? I was just going to say you and Prince Harry sure seemed to be having fun.”

I sighed, “We did.”

“That’s nice.”‌ The tone was different this time, more… honest. Less mocking. So I smiled in return.

“And I deserve nice.” I repeated his line back to him, making his smile grow.

“Auguste noticed it, too.”

I sighed again.‌‌ “Let me guess. Have I‌ behaved promiscuously?”

“He is not sure if anyone will have noticed, but he thinks it’s a bad match.”

“Ugh, what is this, the eighteenth century?”

He shrugged.‌ “He said something about both of you being spares, and none having a throne to inherit, it’s just not good politics.”

I gave him a flabbergasted look. “What?!”

“I’m obviously kidding!”‌ He laughed, but I‌ rolled my eyes. “Look, just don’t let him talk you out of it, okay? Harry is great. He’s funny, and polite, and according to Kate, seems to really like you.”

“What? What did she say?”

He grinned again. “She told me in confidence, I‌ can’t repeat it.”

“Louis!”

“He’s nice!‌ And you deserve nice!”

“I know…”

“…he’s also super hot, which doesn’t hurt.”

“Shut up.”‌ I replied, but with a grin of my own this time. 

“What, you’re telling me you don’t think he’s super hot?”

“That’s not- I‌ don’t- Shut up!”

I‌’d seen Harry approaching out of the corner of my eye, and was desperate for him to stop talking.

“Hello.”‌ He greeted.

“Hi, Harry…”‌ Louis greeted him with the same teasing tone he had used to greet me.

“…Hi.”‌ Harry’s smile grew a bit more, and he blushed looking at the floor, uncomfortably.

“Stop.” I‌ whispered to my brother.

“Oh, look. I’m getting a call.” He returned, dead-faced. showing us his dark, silent phone, which was most definitely not receiving a call. “Talk to you later.”

Harry laughed as I‌ sighed. “Sorry, he’s…”

“Hey, do you want get out of here?” I stared, intrigued. His smile dropped as regret took over his face. “No!‌ I‌ just mean… To walk around, in the palace. See some cool closed wings and stuff.”

I‌ laughed. “Sure.”

“Really?”‌ He seemed genuinely surprised, and my heart ached.

I looked around at the room, enough people looking at us just because we were who we were. Our brothers looking away from us in a way that made me sure they were very aware of our movements. Auguste was standing by my father, but keeping an eye on me from the corner of his eyes. Cadie gave me a discreet thumbs up from the corner.

I remembered we were meant to be leaving the country tomorrow morning, and thought of how he still didn’t realize when we met. I remembered just how much he annoyed me only three days ago, and realized I didn’t know when I might see him next. Sure, it was almost time to leave, but I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I wanted to see this through.

And I deserved nice.

So as he watched me with expectant eyes, I felt my heart jump in my throat and smiled as I said, “…yes.‌ Lead the way.”

--- ---- ---

Margueritte’s State Dinner Outfit

[A//N: Thank you so much for reading!!!!!!! I’d love to know your thoughts, please drop me a message here or like this page? Again, it’s a privilege, thank you for reading! Next week: Harry and Margueritte go on a secret Buckingham palace adventure!]

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Her Majesty. || 6

♔♔♔

The Country Side.

I stand at the wooden fence, watching as a trainer is leading my horse, preparing it for some light exercise to keep her in excellent form. 

I rest my arms on the wooden fence and watch in awe as my horse gracefully leads around with the trainer on this early and rather a crisp morning. It is a nice change of weather to finally feel a bit of coldness after having such intense heat in the last few weeks. 

The palace has been hell since the horse races the other evening, Henry contrived to stir a lot of predicaments, particularly between my father and I. Somehow, the whole debacle with Henry was turned into being my fault. The media have been stationed outside the palace gates, waiting for some sort of story to mould, and online the media hasn’t exactly bestowed me any mercy. I definitely produced headlines, but not in the way my father had anticipated. My new budding romance has turned heads and now has the title of ‘The Monarch might be in the hands of an unsteady King and Queen.’ 

I haven’t heard from Henry since that evening, and I don’t want to hear from him. I am hoping that my Father manages to kick Henry to the curb and annihilates the tabloids and everything going on. But since my Father so graciously announced the relationship at the garden party and allowed our media team to release a story to the publishers, we are screwed until the media team can obtain a new story to leak. 

Being inside the palace with my father at this time is awful for everybody, even the staff are attempting to discover ways to hide out and keep away from him. He is on a warpath. Two people have been fired and my mother has had to overrule him and hire back the staff. 

I don’t understand why my father is so enraged, after all, he is the one who leaked stories to the press about me being away with a boyfriend in Hillsborough when he knew I was not. He went behind my back and painted a misleading picture for the media to dwell in, and now that his picture has streaks running through it, he wants to be deranged. He should have picked a better prince, or he should keep things out of the media. My relationships should be private. My life should be private, instead, my life is a matter of privileged information for anyone who works for the media.

I hear the rustling of grass and the sound of a few hushed coughs. I turn around to observe Harry wandering closer to me with a light jacket on. “I’m sorry, I know I am late,” Harry informs me as he is within distance for me to hear him. 

Harry is never late. It’s very rare for him to be late even if it is just to accompany me around the palace to make sure I’m guarded. 

I shake my head and grant him a smile, “It is okay,” I assure him, taking note of how dark his under eyes are and how his hair is a little slovenly but not in a bad way. “Are you okay?” 

Harry nods, “Just exhausted, I overslept.” Harry clears his throat, “I’m sorry, I’ll make up the time.” Harry has always been immaculate with time and on occasions he misses time, he makes up for it in overtime. It is like he never gets a break.

“You’re sick,” I point out the obvious.

Harry shakes his head, “I’m fine.” 

“You were out in the rain while holding my umbrella and —“ 

Harry cuts me off, “Anna, I’m okay, relax,” Harry assures me, “Just a little under the weather, not your fault.”… “So, I’m surprised to have found you here, has your horse sparked an interest?” Harry questions and I can’t help but chuckle and softly smile. 

I can’t deny the fact the horse has sparked an interest. I am more so out here to hide out from my father. I am doing everything possible to not cross paths with him. He is too busy to step outside the walls of the palace, so right now, watching my horse is my safe haven. 

“You ready to give it a chance, my darling?” 

I shake my head, “I don’t know how to ride and I’m … well... horses scare me.” 

Harry chuckles to himself and shakes his head at my comment, “I’ll teach you.” Harry responds. 

“You can handle horses and ride?” I question, unsure of where all of this is coming from. 

I have never once seen him ride a horse or get anywhere near the horses. Then again, what he does in his downtime I am not quite sure on. He doesn’t get much downtime so I just assumed he had no life outside of being my bodyguard, which is wholly ignorant of me. 

Harry nods his head, “I can do many things, Anna…”  Harry trails off with a cough, fighting to get his sentence out thoroughly. 

“You never told me you owned a horse or that you can ride.” 

Harry lifts his shoulders into a shrug, “You never asked. Would you like to ride, Anastasia?” Harry offers as he gestures towards the horse trainer. “Come on,” Harry encourages me as he begins to ascend over the wooden fence with such ease. 

Something tells me he grew up in the countryside. I’m sure he has mentioned it before but he hasn’t discussed too much about his childhood. I’m starting to wonder if it had anything to do with horses. 

I step up and climb over the wooden fence just as the trainer brings Meadow to Harry. Harry smiles politely and takes the lead rope of the horse and begins to speak softly to the animal, his right hand petting its neck while he stands right in front of the horse with ease and confidence. “That’s a girl,” He praises her before he motions for me to move closer. “Come here, she won’t hurt you,” Harry encourages me, reaching out and tenderly taking my hand and drawing me closer to him. “Just speak softly and put the back of your hand close to her nose so she can smell you and get a sense of you,” Harry instructs and I do as he says. 

After a few moments, I benevolently pet Meadow, trying my best to overlook the fact that she’s a lot bigger than what I am and that at any given moment she can decide to run Harry and me over. 

There are a lot of what if circumstances. A horse has a mind of its own and there’s no telling how long a horse will be obedient for. 

I have witnessed people fall off horses, I have seen people being bucked off horses and I have noticed horses suddenly lose their mind due to the impromptu racket of a car backfiring. Anything can happen at any given time. 

“The saddle is right over there,” Harry gestures towards my mother's saddle, his voice raspy and hoarse, “I can saddle her up and I’ll walk her around.” 

I shake my head, but Harry grants me his sweet smile, “It will be okay, take a risk. You said you wanted to be normal, this is normal Anastasia.” Harry informs me before he leads my horse closer to the saddle and I walk beside Harry. 

♔

Harry places an arm around me and caresses a kiss to the top of my head before he helps me get on the saddle. I take a breath and I glance down at him as he praises the horse for standing still. He looks up at me, “Just breathe, sweetheart.” Harry instructs. 

“Harry—“ 

Harry cuts me off, well aware I’m close to panicking, “Hey, hey, breathe. I need you to breathe. I wouldn’t put you on this horse if I didn’t think she’d be fine.” Harry assures me. “Do you want me to help you off? I don’t want you to panic.”

“Promise you have her?” 

“I promise.” Harry nods before he begins to lead the horse around slowly while I get the feel of being in the saddle. 

When I was younger, this was usually as far as I could get, sitting in the saddle. Nobody could get me calm enough to be able to at least walk the horse around for me. While Harry leads me around, I can’t help but feel like a kid again. It was always nice to have my mother lead the horse while my Dad walked beside me with his hand on my back just in case. 

Harry reminds me of the small details when it comes to horse riding, reminding me of how to hold the reins properly, and whatnot. It is slowly coming back to me. “Harry?” 

“Yes, darling?” Harry stops walking and turns to look up at me. 

“Do you… Do you think that she would let me just walk?” 

“Without me leading? Yeah, she is a trained horse, would you like me to give you the reins fully?” Harry offers and I nod, “Are you sure?” Harry questions and I bite my lip, not entirely sure. I want to take a leap of faith and do something out of my comfort zone, but so much could go wrong. “I am not letting go unless you are one-hundred per cent sure.” 

“Maybe not right now,” I chuckle, “Bit ahead of myself.” 

“You know, you can always take lessons from the trainer.” Harry flicks his head to the trainer who is taking a small break and sitting on the fence. 

“What do I have you for then?” 

Harry lifts his shoulders, “Eh, you know, I am just here to take a bullet for you, no big deal,” Harry responds as he continues to walk the horse for me.

I smile to myself, noticing how the man beside me does so much for me outside his job description, he isn’t just a bodyguard or some other man. He is a genuine guy that loves me and does everything to show and prove his love to me, but somehow, it still isn’t enough for me to end the charade and the ridiculous narrative the royal family is creating. He may not have royal blood humming through his veins but he is the definition of a true prince. He doesn’t talk down to people, he doesn’t look at status, and always puts others before himself, especially me. He doesn’t think twice about helping others, and he would take a bullet for me without thinking twice, yet he isn’t deserving enough to marry someone like me— according to the list of royal rules. 

Everything happens all at once and seems like a blur as the sound of Henry shouting powerfully reverberates around us. 

“Give me back my horse, you thief!” Henry yells, catching me off guard and startling me. 

My horse reacts negatively, and Harry does his best to calm the horse but Henry’s yelling makes this nearly impossible. 

I hit the dirt and to my surprise, the horse doesn’t run off, she stands beside me as Harry lets go of the rope and rushes to my aid. I let out a heavy breath of pain and wince as I move in an attempt to get up. 

The one time I take a leap of faith and feel comfortable on a horse, it is ruined. 

“Don’t move, take deep breaths, Princess,” Harry instructs me. 

I take a few deep breaths, and my heart is racing with adrenaline. I glance towards Henry who has jumped the wooden railing and seems to be showing no mercy for what he has done. 

He is on a mission and doesn’t have any regard for anyone else or the safety of those around him.

I am not quite sure what his issue is, he left me at the Ascot and he is the one who gave me the horse, I didn’t steal her. I can afford my own horse and there are horses in the stable for me, I don’t understand his logic or need to be such an ass. 

The moment Henry endeavours to march closer, Harry reacts, “You come any closer to her or the horse, it’ll be the last thing you do.” Harry warns Henry instantly, his pistol pointing directly at Henry while Harry continues to stare at me, his free hand assisting me to sit up. 

I wince again, the unexpected impact still humming through me. I lean forward and rest my head on Harry’s chest and he caresses his left hand to rest on my back, rubbing comforting circles on it. There comes a time where the stern, stiff bodyguard drops his act and shows more emotion than usual. For a moment, I think about lifting my head off his chest and pulling away, fearful someone might get the wrong idea… Even though the wrong idea is quite right. Despite how things look, I don’t care. I want the comfort of Harry and the security of his touch. 

Harry glances towards Henry who stands still with his hands up in the air, the only smart thing he has done lately. I didn’t think things with Henry could get much worse, but I was clearly wrong. I thought he had done enough damage at the event, clearly not. My Father is going to lose his marbles when he catches wind of this. 

Moments later, we are swarmed by members of the security team and Matt takes control of Henry, enabling Harry to withdraw his pistol and put it back in its resting position. 

“It wasn’t the horse’s fault or yours,” I inform Harry, well aware that his heart is beating just as fast as my own, I can only assume he regrets settling me on the horse. It was just the wrong timing. 

Harry lets out a sigh of relief and extends away from me. He clasps his hands on either side of my shoulders, “Nothing is broken, where’s most your pain?” 

“Right here,” I run my hand up my side, “Just a bruise, I’m sure,” I assure Harry, not wanting to have to deal with the entire palace going crazy over what has happened. 

Nobody needs to fret over the Princess. 

I am tired of everyone fretting over me and treating me like I am going to break the second I fall. 

♔♔♔

Harry’s fretting, his mind is thinking of one-hundred different things and debating whether to increase security or to call for a doctor, he hasn’t moved from his position in the chair since I dozed off a little while ago. His fingers are tapping against his knee with his head bowed in defeat. This man never seems to stop worrying about me, even when there is nothing wrong, he still finds something. I am alive, I am fine and yet, here he is, fretting in the chair instead of getting in bed with me. 

“How long are you going to sit there?” I distract Harry and he lifts his head. 

He runs his fingers through his hair, “You should be asleep.”

“As should you,” I respond. 

Harry nods his head and lets out a heavy sigh before standing to his feet and making his way closer to my bed. Harry sits on the edge of my bed and he brushes a few stray hairs away from my face, “It is two in the morning, your eyes are laced with pain, let me call you a doctor.”

I shake my head, refusing to allow him to bother the doctor. There is absolutely no need. This is not a life or death situation. “Harry, I’m just bruised, can we talk?” 

“About?” 

I carefully sit up and rest against the pillows and the headboard, “I’ve realised I don’t know much about your past, where you grew up and stuff. I don’t even know what you do in your downtime.” 

“Anna, you need to sleep. I need to know you’re rested before I leave.” 

“Before you leave?” I question with a raised brow. 

Where is he going? Is he leaving permanently? 

“Matthew has given me a few days off because I’m under the weather and because of Henry.” 

I grow quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. Harry having a few days off is highly rare. 

Is it because of me? 

Why is he leaving because of Henry?

“Where are you going?” I curiously inquire.

Harry smiles tiredly, “Back home where I’m originally from, the countryside.” 

“Sounds lovely, can I come?” I challenge, forgetting my manners. 

I can’t just invite myself to his hometown. That’s rude, but I’d love to see where he’s from. I’d love to know more details about him, the small things he has failed to tell me. 

I want to see where he came from, what shaped him into the man he is. I want to meet his mother. Perhaps, his mother doesn’t know of me or wants to meet me. 

“You… You really want to come?” 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Harry clears his throat, “Well, my mother’s house isn’t a palace and we live—,” Harry begins but stops himself. “I’d love to take you with me. Get some sleep and I’ll see what I can do by morning, okay?” 

“Really?” 

Harry nods his head, “Really.” Harry leans down and kisses my forehead, “Get some sleep.”

♔♔♔ 

I wake up as I hear the squeak of my door and I’m greeted by my mother's warm smile. She shuffles towards my windows and draws the curtains back just enough to concede some light to enter the bedroom. I’d much rather continue sleeping, but the royal duties don’t wait on me. “I’ve spoken to your father,” she promptly begins, turning around to face me as I sit up in the bed. 

“Is he still mad at me?” 

My mother shakes her head, “No, he’s mad at himself for allowing Henry near you. Mathew spoke to us this morning, we think it’s best you get away from the media and Henry. The ladies will pack your bags, just get dressed. The car is waiting.” She’s very straight to the point with this morning's agenda, forgetting to tell me of the royal duties I’m meant to take care of. 

Perhaps I’m off the hook for signing letters and reading mail for a day? 

♔♔♔

I sit patiently in the car, tapping my foot as I anxiously wait for the vehicle to start moving. Matthew doesn’t seem to be speaking; he seems occupied with his phone, probably handling last-minute security issues as a row of eight blacked-out SUVs are lined up. I know what he’s attempting to accomplish. If there are so many cars as we exit, the media won’t know which to follow nor will they know who is in each car, it’s a lot easier to lose unwanted followers this way. 

The other passenger door opens and Harry slides in, wasting no time with letting out a heavy sigh, “Everything is set, you can go ahead,” Harry informs Matthew who wastes no time with implementing the plan that has been devised. “Hey, Anna.” Harry leans over and kisses my cheek and Matthew begins to drive. 

“Hey.” I greet with a smile. “How did you pull this off?” I softly question. Within just a few hours, Harry has somehow managed to make my wishes come true. A two in the morning conversation seems to have worked in my favour, this is rare.

“Security wants to keep you safe, the publicist wants to keep you out of the media and do damage control, so we came up with a plan.” 

“That involves whisking me off to your home town?” 

Harry shakes his head, “We would do no such thing… We are taking you to a remote area that’s entirely safe where the media wouldn’t even think to look for you,” Harry winks. “Also known as my home town. You have the weekend to be normal, don’t make me regret this.” 

I grow quiet for a moment, the thought of being normal suddenly stroking me as scary. I don’t remember the last I left the palace without a strict routine set in place, I don’t remember being able to go somewhere where I could be normal. 

“Yes, don’t make me regret this, my ass is on the line. That means no falling off horses, no fainting, no speaking to strangers, nothing. I can’t stress this enough, one wrong move can send this to shit.” Matthew informs me, making it known that he is doing something that he shouldn’t be doing. 

I know this isn’t entirely protocol, they are doing me a favour to keep me happy but also to keep me safe. This is a win-win situation that I don’t stumble across very often.

“I understand.” 

“Anna, if you feel unwell or pain, you have to tell me. If you feel unsafe, you have to tell me. If something happens on my watch away from the palace, when your parents haven’t ordered this, I’m fucked.” Harry is stern with how he speaks, a clear indication he’s concerned. I don’t blame him for being stern but at the same time… What could possibly go wrong?

I don’t blame him. He has the life of the future Queen quite literally in his hands, this isn’t like the usual outings. I won’t be on Royal property; I won’t have the media around us or following us, I’ll be off the grid— I’ll be free. 

“I get it, Harry,” I nod my head, understanding his concern. “We will be like normal civilians.” 

Harry nods, “The best we can, yes.” … “I need to warn you, we don’t have palace staff at my mother's house, and I didn’t grow up in a castle.” 

“Harry, that’s perfectly fine. I’m not a stuck up Princess,” I mutter, unsure of why he seems to think I expect a palace life out in the countryside. I don’t want the palace life, I want normal.

Harry shakes his head, “I’m just making sure you know it’s a small house, nothing fancy.” 

♔♔♔

Harry’s pov. 

I have wanted to bring Anna to the countryside for quite a while, the idea of her meeting my family has played on my mind but I never thought we’d make it happen. We don’t have a typical relationship and she isn’t an ordinary girl. 

How does one bring home a future Queen? 

I take Anna’s bags and I give her a small smile as she looks at the house I grew up in. I know it’s far from Buckingham palace but it’s home to me. She wanted to know where I came from, this is it. 

“This is how the other half lives.” I grin, attempting to break the silence. I lean down and kiss her cheek before gesturing for us to walk up the cobbled pathway to the front door. 

Anastasia appears hesitant, she has this aspect in her eyes that I have seen before. She usually has this look when she’s meeting new people, especially those of high power or new royals. I place the bags down and I tenderly take Anna’s hand with mine, “You okay?” 

“Does— does she know who I am?” 

I know what she’s referring to. I know that her head is plausibly racing with one hundred different thoughts. Meeting your partner's parents isn't always easy, even if you are the future Queen of England. “You’re Anastasia, the girl I’m in love with, that��s what she knows,” I inform Anna with a reassuring smile. 

I don’t give Anastasia more time to panic, instead, I knock on the front door before I open it, taking Anna by surprise. I don’t think she has ever seen a front door unlocked, granted, I’m always having to unlock them for her and keep protocol. Once she enters this house though, all doors will be locked. 

I step into my mother's house and for the first time in quite a while, I feel a weight lift from my shoulders. There’s a sense of calmness and relaxation that washes over me and I couldn’t be more thankful to finally be home. 

Before I can call for my mother down the hallway, I observe her figure turn the corner and smile extensively at me, “Darling, finally. I was getting worried,” My mother hurries towards me and engulfs me in a hug before I can even put the bags down. 

“Hi, Mum,” I chuckle, “I missed you too,” I grin, appreciating her warm embrace, even if my arms are stuck to my side with heavy bags while she has her own arms wrapped around me. 

“It has been too long,” My mother lets me go, allowing me to breathe. 

I nod my head, agreeing with her, it has been quite a while since I have been home, “I have someone for you to meet, Mum, this is Anastasia. Before you engulf her in a hug, be careful she fell off a horse yesterday,” I inform my mother so she doesn’t wrap her arms tightly around Anna. I know my mother well, she is a hugger and sometimes they aren’t always soft hugs. 

“I am fine, Harry,” Anna murmurs, “It is really nice to meet you,” Anna beams towards my mother leaning in for a hug. 

“Likewise, I have heard a bit about you… Do I need to... Uhm… curtsey?” My mother asks Anna. 

“No,” Anastasia shakes her head, “I am just Anastasia, I am not a Princess. I’m just me, okay?” 

“Okay, well welcome to my home. Harry will show you to the bedroom. I have sandwiches for lunch, I wasn’t sure what you ate. But for dinner, I do have a roast lamb ready for the oven. You do eat Lamb?” My mother questions. I can see she is somewhat concerned that her meal choices are not adequate enough for Anastasia. 

“That sounds lovely. Thank you.” 

I take Anna’s hand and I benevolently guide her through the house, giving her a short tour before I take her to my old bedroom. 

She glances around my bedroom and appears intrigued by how my room is set up. Nothing has changed since I left it a few years ago. The covers are still the same, the blankets still sit at the edge of the bed, neatly folded and my books are still on the shelves. Nothing is out of order. 

Anastasia encompasses her fingers over the spines of each book while she wanders past them, she cocks her head to the side to look over at me, “Extensive library,” She points out, “You really are a mystery. Are the ribbons yours?” Anastasia points towards the few ribbons on my shelf. 

I place our bags down on the bed with a small exhalation, “Sort of.” I shrug. 

I can’t take full credit for the ribbons, they are partially mine, partially the man’s next door. “I helped train the neighbours horses for a few events. He allowed me to have the ribbons on the horses I trained. The skill is all in him and the horses, not me.” I don’t want to take much credit. I’m not a professional. I got lucky with learning how to train a few horses and helped the old man next door. 

“Oh my goodness,” Anna gasps, “Little Harry,” Anna coos, holding up a picture frame of a picture of my sister and me. 

I roll my eyes at the photo and the fact Anastasia looks entirely thrilled by the fact I look so young. “Okay, enough of that,” I walk around my bed to her. I take the frame and place it down before I gently wrap my arms around her. 

“Are you going to go through the rules again with me? Because if you are, I already know—” Anna begins, causing me to chuckle before I cut her off and caress my lips to hers. 

“No,” I mumble against her lips before I draw away, “No more rules,” I shake my head, “I do want to tell you something though.” 

“Mhm, what is it?” 

“I love you,” I respond with a smile. 

I do my best to tell her every chance I get. I don’t want her to ever be in a position to question my love for her. I do my best to remind her daily, but sometimes that isn’t plausible. For now, as she stays in the country with me, I will do my best to remind her each day that I love her. 

Anna glances at me with her beautiful eyes and dainty smile, “I love you, too. Does your Mother have any rules?” 

“Rules?” I raise a brow. I think the last time my mother set a rule for me was probably when I was sixteen. 

Anna nods her head, “Does she expect us up at eight for breakfast? Does she want us in separate rooms?” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” I sigh with a stifling laugh, “My mother doesn’t care when we get up, she doesn’t expect us at breakfast or lunch. She doesn’t care if we share a room as long as you’re comfortable. When I say we are laid back and normal, I mean that there are no royal rules. You can relax.” I inform Anastasia, “But, I do know she is about to feed animals, she might want me to help, want to come?” I offer, gesturing towards the door. 

Anastasia happily nods, bounding towards my door before I can think twice. I can’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm while I follow behind her.

♔♔♔

Anna’s eyes light up at the sight of the farm animals, and she glances at me with awe, “Anastasia, are you coming?” My mother calls and Anastasia smiles widely like a child at Christmas before she’s hurrying down towards my mother. 

I stand at the fence, observing as she appears to be having the time of her life while surrounded by animals. I haven’t seen her this free in quite some time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile this much besides when we’ve been alone. Seeing her free and in a normal environment shows me how much she’s constrained when it comes to her royal title. I wish I had the power to give her more free time to be a free spirit. 

“Be careful, darling,” I grin towards her. She is adorable to me.

Anna rolls her eyes at me before paying attention to my mother, learning from her. 

It’s strange to see how things have changed. Years ago, I would never have thought my Mum would be helping take care of the farm animals of our neighbour. But here I stand, on the opposite side of the fence for once, watching my mother feed the animals. 

It feels nice not being the farmhand, I spent many hours and days feeding animals and fixing fences, I honestly hated having to do it, especially in the middle of a cold winter. There’s nothing rewarding about having to break the ice so the horses can have water in their troughs or having to fix a fence right before it’s meant to snow. What is rewarding, however, is a simple fact that it’s a task I know how to do. I know how to care for animals, I know how to train a horse and ride, and it’s something that I’ll always have. Plus, if it wasn’t for being a farmhand, I wouldn’t have ended up being able to have horses compete in the races. 

The moment I glance down at my phone and let my guard down, I hear a gasp. Instantly, I look up and see Anna in the mud, “Anna!” I quickly climb over the fence but my mother stops me before I can get any closer. 

“She’s fine.” She assures me and it takes me a moment to realise that Anastasia is giggling to herself as she sits in the mud. This is a part of being normal. 

I step towards Anastasia in less of a panic and help her up, her giggles still filling the air. “I’m so sorry, I tripped over the goat.” 

She looks so sweet and innocent, half covered in mud with a dainty smile, “Or maybe I tripped over myself. I’m not sure, but the goat is happy.” Anastasia chuckles, gesturing towards the bucket of feed that she dropped. 

“You’re perfectly fine.” My mother assures her, “Is my son always like this?” 

Anastasia nods, “He is.” 

“Mum, it’s part of my job.” I interrupt, defending my constant observations and the fact that I may or may not have jumped a fence for no reason besides the fact Anna fell in the mud. 

“In his defence,” Anna begins, “A lot of the time we are constantly watched and you never know what’ll happen.” 

I nod my head, “Exactly. Let me take you to the stables, maybe you’re less likely to injure yourself there.” 

I take Anna’s hand and lead her towards the stables, leaving my mother to do her part of the chores. 

I know she’s not a fan of horses, and I know considering the events that have happened, she probably never wants to be near a horse again, but I know she deserves to know a little more about me. 

“Does this pretty girl look familiar?” I question, leading Anna closer to one particular stable where my horse is standing, waiting for her feed before being able to run free in the paddock. 

Anna takes a look from the distance, she cooks her head to the side and looks at me, “Looks like a horse.” 

I chuckle and shake my head, “Of course. It’s the horse that won the race. She has been staying at your Mum’s stable but she was brought up here to be a horse for a bit. I don’t want her being raced to death.” 

“Did you train her?” 

“A little bit, I haven’t had much time to put much effort into her, that’s why I hired a trainer. Can’t be a farmhand or work with horses when I’m your security guard.” I respond.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t change being her bodyguard for anything, but sometimes it would be nice to have a little bit more time on my hands. 

I catch Anastasia looking around and glancing over her shoulder, a look of concern written all over her face. I instantly narrow my eyes on her before I scan every inch of area around us. There’s no threat, none at all. “What’s the matter?” I question, diverting Anna’s attention back to me. 

Anastasia shakes her head, but I know she’s lying, something is rattling around that beautiful mind of hers. “Anastasia, what is it? Why are you looking over your shoulder? Nobody is there.” 

“I can’t help but sometimes wonder if Prince Henry could pop up.” 

The sheer sound of his name causes my nerves to rattle. That prick doesn’t dare show his face around here ever again. He might be royalty but I’ll gladly knock him down a few pegs. 

I step closer to Anastasia and I mildly grab her hand with mine, “He won’t come up here. He’d be stupid to even think of it. Let’s go back to the house, I have a few calls to make.” 

Although I highly doubt Henry would know where we are, I can’t help but want to double-check everything. I need to call Matthew and find out where Henry is and what will be done about him. I’m sure the King has some sort of say in the punishment— if any. On top of that, I need to make sure the media have caught wind of where we are, I also need to make sure that damage control is happening. Anastasia’s media team is known to sometimes side with the King and as of now, I don’t think Anastasia wants her father in charge of what the media has to say about her and her relationships. I know Anna is still mad that her father leaked the story to the press on where she was in Ireland. He had his own intentions for it, whatever they may have been, it was wrong. I can’t always fix the situations this girl gets put in because of her title, but I will do my damn best for her. My job doesn’t just start and end at keeping her physically safe, it involves keeping her emotionally and mentally safe, it involves keeping her integrity and outlook nice and clean. I love her and I will do what it takes to make sure that she isn’t slandered and beaten down by whatever the world or media may have to say about her. I know she reads the media, as much as her father attempts to keep her away from social media, she reads it. She reads the articles that shed her in a good light but she also reads the articles that shred her to pieces. Anastasia thinks I don’t know about the nights she has cried over her title and the stress it causes, she thinks I don’t know about the nights she has cried over the harsh articles and the reality of her life. I see it and it breaks my heart. 

The whole reason for bringing Anna with me is to keep her away from Henry for the time being and to keep her away from the firing media. I can only imagine the headlines that have been printed this morning. 

I purposely stayed away from newspapers and the internet. Surely someone has managed to leak the story on how the princess fell off her stolen horse. I need to go through the articles and do damage control. Her media team is meant to be strategically planning something, but most of the time I’m the one hiding certain things and releasing new stories or being the anonymous tip. 

♔♔♔

I stand on the back porch, gazing out into the open garden my mother has created in her spare time. I remember growing up, she always said how she wanted to have a beautiful blooming garden, a garden for her favourite flowers and a small area for her to grow fresh herbs to cook with. 

Before I left for London a few years ago, I built her the small garden patch for her herbs, and I had all intentions of finishing the project but little did I know that I would end up with a bigger job than being a farmhand and helping maintain everyone’s gardens for a little extra money.

I press the warm cup of tea to my lips and enjoy the quietness of being out here, there are no media, there is no hassle and most of all there is little to no threat for Anastasia, I can let my guard down a little bit and relax. 

The glass doors slide behind me, I look over my shoulder, expecting to see Anastasia with her sweet smile but instead, my mother offers me her charming smile. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

I turn around and fully face her. I lift my cup, “Just enjoying a cuppa. What are you doing?” I curiously question, unsure of why she has yet to wander off to bed or why she isn’t curled up on the couch with a new book. 

“Thought I would talk to you for a minute.” 

“What’s on that pretty mind of yours?” I ask. 

My mother grows quiet and for a moment, my heart sinks, whatever is on her mind mustn’t be the best of things. “What is it, Mum? What’s wrong?” 

She shakes her head and grants me a reassuring smile, “Nothing is wrong. She’s really lovely, and I like her.”

There it is… What’s running through her mind… Anastasia. 

It brings me joy to see my mother smile at the thought of the woman I love. I wasn’t quite sure how my mother would react to Anna, not because of I thought Mum wouldn’t like her for her personality, but more so I wasn’t sure how Mum would appreciate her having a title. 

“I like her too,” I chuckle, “But, that is obvious.”

I don’t think I just like Anastasia, I am pretty sure it is love.

“I see she loves you. Are you okay with everything that is happening? Are you okay?” 

I grow withdrawn for a moment, my heartstrings drawing. 

I am not okay with how certain things are. I despise the idea of Anna being with another man, even if it is fake. I hate the idea of keeping us a secret, but I knew what I was getting into when I first started to date her. I knew her life, I knew things wouldn’t be easy. She explained it all to me and I accepted things. I accepted that there would be bumps in the road due to her royal title. 

I accepted her for who she is, I accepted that we would have a lot of struggles that aren’t easily fixed or explained.

“No, I’m not. But she comes first.” I flick my head towards the inside of my mother’s house. “I love her. I’ll do anything for her.”

“If you love her, why don’t you propose? I read in the tabloids all the time she needs a husband…” 

“Not that easy, Mum. You know that. I can’t right now. I want too; I just can’t.” I trail off with a heavy sigh. She doesn’t just necessitate a husband, she needs a King. I will never be King. I don’t live up to the expectations of the Royal Family. I am nothing but a commoner. 

I’m just a boy who grew up in the countryside; I’m just a man who attempted to make a living and somehow fell in love with a true Princess. 

There is nothing more in this world I want than to be able to get down on one knee and ask her to be my wife. I picture our life together all the time; I imagine her planning a wedding, walking down the aisle and all the things we’d go through in life. I picture the way she’d fall asleep in our bed every night, how there would be no sneaking around and hiding things.

There would be no greater pleasure in my life than to be able to call her my wife and the future mother of my children. I want us to have a life together, but at the end of the day, she is the soon to be Queen and that changes things. It changes the picture of where I stand. 

“You want to? You’ve thought about proposing?” My mother challenges me and I nod my head. 

“Where is Anna?” I question, unable to see her through the glass doors but not wanting to chance anything. 

“She went to your room, she is going to call the King,” My mother pauses for a moment and chuckles, “I can’t believe the King of England is being called from my house.” 

I roll my eyes at my mother before I hand her my cup of tea. I pet both sides of my pockets down before I slide my hand into my left pocket. I pull out a small box and my mother’s eyes grow wide. 

“You-You have a ring?” She stutters. 

I open the box and show my mother the ring that I have been carrying around with me for a while. “For a while now. Just haven’t found the right moment. With everything going on, I don’t even think I should. I love her, I do. But I didn’t expect things to be so unconventional… I always thought I would ask my future wife’s father for his blessing, but what chance do I have to get the Kings blessing?” 

“Oh, Darling.” 

“It is respect to have his blessing… Plus, the King has to approve her marriage under the Royal Marriages Act of 1772. He won’t approve. I’m just another man in society.”

My mother rolls her eyes, “That is bullshit, Harry. For many reasons that is stupid. But unless both houses of Parliament object, you two can still get married. Even if her father says ‘no’ this is her decision. Is she going to let her father dictate her life forever?” 

“Mum, you don’t understand. She is in line for the crown.” 

“I know she is in line for the bloody crown, I know how it works. So what? It is a bloody crown and I think she would choose you over a damn thing that sits on her head.” 

“It doesn’t—”

“It does work like that, Harry.” My mother cuts me off. 

She has a point, to an extent, but things still aren’t that simple. It isn’t just a crown, it is a monarch, the whole country depends on her when she takes the crown. 

“I can’t ask her to choose the monarch or me. I need to check on the guards outside.” I attempt to divert the conversation elsewhere before my mother and I get too far into a conversation that I can’t get out of. 

My mother grabs my arm as I attempt to walk away, “Propose to her. I have never lead you wrong, she’s the one for you. Don’t let the monarch ruin it. A left-handed marriage in a monarch is better than a ruined love..” 

I give my mother a nod of my head, dismissing the conversation before I wander around the side of the house and make my way to the two guards who patrol the outside of my family home just in case. 

I play with the box in my pocket and contemplate the things my mother has said. 

What if I do propose? 

What if we elope? 

Nobody would need to know, Anna could keep her title and crown without an issue… We could figure out the logistics later on down the road. 

Perhaps my mother has a point. 

I can either take things by the reins and go headfirst into life with Anna, and show her how much I truly love her, or I can let a monarch ruin us over age-old rules that need to change. 

I may be nothing but a bodyguard but one thing for sure is I love her more than life itself. I put my life on the line every day to keep her safe. I don’t do it anymore because it is my job, I do it because I would take a bullet for the woman I love any day of the week. I would do anything to keep her safe. I would do anything for her. 

She’s the one. 

[johnbernsteinx]

First Date | Self-Para (not really)

Just a little throwback thread we did for John and Quinn’s (@quinn-hawthorne) first date. This can be backdated about exactly a year ago. 🤡

trigger warnings: mentions of alcoholism and drug addiction, nervous boys and some kissin’.

A date. It was probably a mistake to do this. Quinn didn’t do this. His last date was -- over seven years ago, and with the only person he’d ever wanted something serious with. It didn’t have to be a thing, and he knew that. Something casual, something just to try and ‘get back out there’ so to speak. Was it pathetic that Quinn’s only real dating history was with Lara? Even when they hadn’t been together in nearly a decade? He was sure it was getting there. But, this, this was good, right? John was good looking, sweet, and he hadn’t refused the date. He could take that as enough. Maybe this would be a one time thing, that was okay. He didn’t expect much out of himself, figuring that John would realize quickly that this was a mistake, that he didn’t want to even speak to Quinn again, and he had to be okay with that. He liked John, though, he’d become a friend over the past few months, niceties turned into light flirting, and now here they were.

Quinn sat across from John, trying to cover up his nerves, or uncertainty. It was just dinner, fuck, that didn’t need to be a big deal. When the waiter came to the table, handing the drink menu to Quinn before starting to go over it, Quinn offered it up to John, an uncomfortable smile crossing his features as he did. “I’ll just have a water, thanks,” he told the waiter once he’d gone over probably too many drinks for Quinn’s own good, suddenly feeling sheepish at having made the poor guy go over the list. “But, please,” he waved a hand toward John, his eyes meeting the other man’s from across the table. “Anything you want. Don’t feel like you can’t.”

__

John wasn’t sure if he could remember the last time he’d felt as nervous as he did that night. After spending an embarrassing amount of time getting ready – more than he’d ever like to admit – he’d finally decided on an outfit and it was then when he allowed himself a moment to process what was even happening. Quinn asking him out had come as a surprise. A welcome one, but a surprise nonetheless. They got along well, John knew that and maybe their friendly banter had turned into something that came close to some teasing but with how long he’d been out of the dating game, John almost felt like he had to relearn the first steps. His last real date had been years ago. There’d been one or two in the meantime but they barely mattered, considering they ended in him never seeing the person in question ever again. Maybe that was just something John had been cursed with – an inability to keep someone interested or maybe he was being too oblivious – the same way he’d been with Quinn up until now.

He hadn’t expected Quinn to be interested in him that way. He hadn’t even considered that he could be and yet, here he was, sitting in a dimly lit restaurant across from the other man, his nerves leaving him a little shaky and unfocused as he reached up to fix his glasses and cleared his throat – a nervous habit he couldn’t quite seem to shake. Quinn had been nothing but nice to him ever since they’d met. Kind and handsome, a little dorky in a way John found endearing but now, he couldn’t help but go over the advances he might’ve missed. The hints and the flirting he registered as Quinn being friendly. It made him feel a little stupid but he was snapped out of his thoughts when a waiter came by, a hint of surprise glimmering in his dark eyes when he accepted the card with a quiet thank you. His order caught him off-guard and maybe he’d imagined the slight discomfort on the other man’s features but he couldn’t help the way his brows pulled together. “Oh! Uh…,” he trailed off, eyes scanning over the menu as his hand lifted to touch his glasses again before he could stop himself and John met Quinn’s eyes momentarily before looking over to the waiter. “For me, too – thank you,” he said politely, waiting for him to walk off before he tilted his head, a curious smile on his lips. “You don’t drink?”

__

It had been a long time that Quinn had started flirting with John before he thought the other man had even picked up on it fully. Nothing crass, just little things. He wondered how much coffee he’d brought John as a means of trying to win his favor without John even realizing just what he was doing. But, it didn’t matter, not really. He had finally gotten some courage to ask, half expecting a no, of course it would have been gentle, kind and sweet. Or maybe John was just too nice to say no outright. Either way, he figured this would wind up being good practice, maybe go on dates with other people when this inevitably went wrong. Especially with John looking just as put together, and handsome as he’d ever seen the other man. He’d tried, dressed up and cleaned up from his normal look, something that he rarely ever broke out, preferring something more comfortable than the jacket and slacks he’d settled on.

What he hadn’t totally expected was the slip and the tell so quickly. He didn’t drink, he was sober, and that wasn’t a fact he was ashamed of. It just didn’t exactly scream first date conversation. But, John didn’t seem bothered by the idea of Quinn not drinking, maybe he thought it was simply that whole ‘clean living’ that vegans or whatever did, not the same clean living he did. “Oh, um,” Quinn’s eyes went wide, paling a little under this sort of attention. “No, I don’t,” he admitted. “I’ve been sober for like seven years now. It’s not a big deal, just a part of my life.” He smiled over to John, waving a dismissive hand to his own words, as if trying to further convince him it was just that. Not a big deal. “Seriously, though, if you want some wine or something, I don’t mind. I’d hate to make you feel like you can’t.” He picked up the menu, his eyes giving it a once over, before glancing back up at John. He was honestly desperate to change the conversation. “Um, so have you been here before? I came once a long time ago, and they have this chicken and artichoke dish that I still think about all the time. I’ve tried to figure out the recipe at home and can’t quite crack it.”

__

It wasn’t often that John felt stupid but the more he thought about it, the more sense Quinn’s visits at the gallery started to make. Granted, he’d been surprised whenever he showed up, bringing him coffee and taking the time out of his day to have a chat with him – which John had written off as a friendly gesture. It was like he needed to be hit over the head with it before he realized, not used to the attention and the idea of someone being even remotely interested in him that way. The concept seemed almost foreign and frankly, quite ridiculous to him. John had never considered himself all that special or desirable for that matter so as much as he wanted to find validation in Quinn taking the first step, he was also sure that if he allowed him to get to know him better, he’d soon realize he could have literally anyone else. He wasn’t good at this after all – at being flirty and charming, let alone impressing someone. John had been so sure he’d stay single forever, the same way he had for the past decade – which sounded worse when he thought about it but it was true after all.

Tonight though, John tried not to focus on his flaws and insecurities but on Quinn and the way he looked like he’d made an effort for him – which had made him smile to himself subtly. It had been unexpected but this didn’t have to be a big deal, right? It was just dinner, he reminded himself. Taking in the other man’s reaction, John’s own eyes widened – had he overstepped? God, he was so out of his comfort zone but he tilted his head casually, listening as his features shifted faintly. There was no hint of judgement though, merely surprise. “Oh! Wow – that’s…,” he trailed off, a smile tugging on his lips, “that’s great, Quinn. Seven years is a long time!” John told him genuinely, not having expected the answer. Quinn was in good shape, so he’d expected it to be a dietary restriction but he figured that it was a good sign that Quinn was honest about it right away, without trying to lie about it. He’d rather know about it than push him to have a drink after all. His lips remained curved into a gentle smile and he simply shook his head. “I don’t mind either! I like wine but I also like water,” John teased, appreciating the offer. “So – we can both just stay sober tonight,” he added with a raised brow before their conversation shifted. John couldn’t deny that he had questions but he’d also picked up on the way Quinn was trying not to dwell, so he wouldn’t. An intrigued expression settled on John’s features as he gave a nod. “Only a few times but it’s been a while for me, too.” He left out the detail that a restaurant like this felt a little intimidating when you went there on your own or merely a friend. “That sounds incredible though,” John mused, a smile washing over him. “I am a terrible cook so I can’t say I could or would ever make it myself but kudos to you for even trying! I’m sure the outcome wasn’t all that terrible though, right?”

__

At John’s reaction, Quinn relaxed a little bit. Something like that wasn’t exactly easy news to hear, or break to someone on a first date. Wasn’t it some sort of red flag or something? But, John was supportive, nice, and it made the tension in his shoulders disappear. They would at least be able to enjoy the rest of their dinner, some of the heavy shit out of the way. “Thanks,” he said, smiling at John, laughing off his own nerves. John was willing to stay sober, to not drink around him and that brought a relief he hadn’t been expecting. “It’s fine, but thank you. For respecting that, even though you don’t have to.” He cleared his throat, before he shifted the discussion. He figured there were plenty of questions, there always were, but he wasn’t ready for that. He’d been honest, given enough tonight. He wanted to focus on the other, on John and getting to know him, not dwell on his own fucking problems.

The question felt empty, low effort and maybe it was, something to just shift the conversation. But, Quinn nodded at their shared lack of frequency to the place. His face twisted in disbelief at the comment, laughing lightly. “You can’t?” The question didn’t come out mockingly, only a curious surprise behind the words. “You seem like someone who can cook, you got that whole important art world vibe. Figured you’re out there making fancy dishes all the time.” Quinn shook his head though. “The first couple batches when I was teaching myself to cook were not great, but they’ve gotten better.” He had finally put his menu back down, his eyes settling on the other man. “Really though, either I’m misremembering the dish or they’ve got some kind of secret ingredient in there I just can’t figure out.”

__

For John, it hadn’t even been a question of whether or not he’d respect this newly discovered piece of information. The idea didn’t put him off, let alone scare him – considering that Quinn had managed to stay sober for that long was a testament to how much he wanted to keep himself out of trouble and John felt like he’d be an asshole if he considered that a deal breaker. If this date was to lead to another or anything other than the way they had been all this time. He wasn’t sure if he had any expectations – not so much because of Quinn but because of himself. The man had no idea how to do this. How to seem alluring and attractive to anyone, really but either way and his nerves aside, this felt like it could just be a nice evening over dinner and a little less small talk. “Of course,” John was quick to assure, clearing his throat almost at the same time as Quinn – which made him laugh softly, his head shaking lightly. They were both nervous, John could tell but the only reason they were was because this felt a little more official. A little more like a hit or miss. “Thank you for telling me,” John replied. “Even though you didn’t have to,” he teased, a half-grin spreading across his lips.

They were warming up to the idea of this being a date, John was sure of it because the conversation felt a lot like testing the waters and yet, he was eager to get to know Quinn more. Granted, they’d been talking for a while, had shared a few bits here and there but never like this. They rarely dug deeper. Another laugh escaped him at how genuinely surprised Quinn seemed and he shook his head repeatedly as he went on. “Oh – god, no. I’m glad I can get away with pretending like I know what I’m doing but I’m really more of a takeout guy. I like a greasy pizza or Chinese,” he admitted, pulling a face. “The only thing I can make are pancakes and eggs. Maybe pasta…if I have some help with the sauce,” he half-joked. “So, no – my culinary experience has nothing on my expertise when it comes to art.” There was a spark of amusement settling in his eyes – a hint of surprise that this was the read Quinn had on him. “Well…,” John said, looking around for a moment before finding the other man’s eyes. “There’s only one way to find out tonight! A new chance if you will and maybe I can even be of help.”

__

There were so many things in Quinn’s past he figured would be a red flag, Hell, maybe some of those things should be. Even the admission of a drinking problem, being sober now was a big one. John was kind, though. He knew there was plenty more to tell, plenty that might turn the other man away. That could wait. If it went poorly tonight, why explain another addiction when he didn’t have to? This one came naturally. The other, that could live in peace and in his past for now. Something he could worry about if this did go anywhere. He met John’s smile, and nodded. “Felt like you deserved to know,” he said, shifting in his seat, trying to hide his discomfort. He leaned forward, his elbows coming to rest on the table gently, looking the other man over once more. An innocent gaze, taking in just how the other looked. Quinn wasn’t used to this kind of effort, it’d been a long time since he’d had to. But, John seemed to be in that state easily. Handsome, soft and comfortable. It made Quinn feel at ease with him normally, a way he didn’t usually feel with the Goldfinch folks.

But, tonight was a different feeling than at the gallery when Quinn stopped in. That was obvious going into this. He wondered if he should have done something a little more casual, a little more easy going for them to start, but this seemed like it would have been more John’s style. A nicer meal, a nicer place. John seemed like he was far from Quinn’s standard Docks comfort. Though, as he spoke, it was almost a relief, easy and something far more sustainable for Quinn if this went anywhere. “Greasy pizza and Chinese takeout are a staple,” he laughed, trying to reassure John that that was completely acceptable. “I’m terrible with pancakes, I really can never get them right. Oh, I’ve got the sauce down, I can follow a recipe pretty well, I got you.” He grinned for a moment, before suddenly feeling a little bold at assuming there would be even a teasing chance there would be a chance of that. But, when John leaned in to offer his help, as if they were sharing a secret, Quinn’s smile only settled further, relaxed and comfortable. “I may need your help, you’re going to have fresh taste on this. I’m sure we can figure it out and give this place a run for their money when we do.”

It was then that the waiter brought their waters, setting them down in front of each of them, as well as setting a small basket of bread between them. Quinn settled back into his chair and gave him a Thanks.

“Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked, and Quinn looked to John, for his approval. “If you are.”

__

While a part of John wanted to know more already, the curiosity being a natural reaction rather than a need to test Quinn, he could tell that this was venturing into something too heavy for a first date. Either way, he appreciated the honesty and was sure that he’d be able to navigate it better now – knowing better than to offer Quinn anything alcoholic or ask him to get drinks if there’d be more dates to come – though he felt like maybe that thought was just him being a little too eager so he filed it back for another time. His features softened at the casual words and yet, they felt genuine. “I appreciate it,” John told him gently, adjusting to Quinn’s wish to move on from it even without him having to voice it. He could feel the other man’s eyes on him and for a moment, John tried not to get self-conscious about it. It had been a while since anyone had taken an interest in him that way but instead of judging him, Quinn seemed to just take him in - observing. His eyes averted for a moment, yet a soft smile remained as he reached up to fix his glasses, clearing his throat before daring to meet Quinn’s eyes once more.

It was interesting to see how their energy shifted – how suddenly all those gestures got a different meaning, how the stolen glances and nervous laughs suddenly made sense. John felt a little silly now, having filed them away as nothing but Quinn being friendly towards him. The place Quinn had chosen for them felt much more official. Like anyone would expect a date but truth be told – John had never cared much about prestige. He liked nice things. Extraordinary things. Expensive things. But he never expected them for himself. He’d been a little surprised at Quinn’s choice but he enjoyed the atmosphere – the dim light and soft background noises. He was also well aware of how people saw him, dressed in more formal attire, some of his clothes sporting the tag of well-known designers, all while standing in front of paintings that sold for horrendous amounts of money but that only made it more fun for John. The man loved the surprised looks he got when he shared his preference for fast food. His love for trash tv and being outdoors. A relieved laugh escaped John in return and he gave a hum in appreciation. “Thank god because they definitely are in my household and always have been,” he admitted with a grin before he tilted his head, prominent brows raising in surprise at the boldness of Quinn’s statement but he liked the confidence – or maybe the reassurance that he hadn’t messed up just yet. “See? I’d say that makes for a good balance.” His lips twitched into a half-smile. “You got the sauce down, I got the pancakes – it’d be a well-divided team effort because I for one am a hopeless case,” he joked, mirroring Quinn’s grin before looking down to where his hands were folded in front of him, resting against the table where he toyed with one of the rings decorating his fingers. It caught him off-guard just how easy it was to allow himself to flirt a little, to tease the other man with each of them playing along. Another laugh escaped and he was quick to nod. “Gladly! I’ll do my very best. Not that I got a very acquired palate but I can give it a try.”

Once their waters arrived, John’s attention shifted momentarily to thank the waiter as well but his eyes were quick to focus back on his date. “I think I am – go right ahead, though I am very curious about that artichoke chicken dish now.”

__

Maybe this had been a long time coming, too long, really. It’d been months since they’d met, started getting to know each other and developing a friendship. It’d been months since Quinn had started flirting, even, but it only seemed like it was a matter of days since he even realized John was receptive, before he was bold enough to ask the other man out. John seemed too good for someone like Quinn, and he felt lucky that the other man gave him the time of day at all. The restaurant had made sense when he’d planned it, something nice, an attempt to step into John’s world a little more, but for as uncomfortable as he’d been, and knowing that John was a little more laidback than he’d expected he suddenly wished they were chatting over a pizza. It seemed like it was easier to talk that way, casual, low pressure. The only reassurance he gave himself was that even if John was more relaxed than this offered, there was no confusion on Quinn’s interest. John deserved a nice dinner, something special, even if this didn’t go anywhere. John’s words following his own, though, an idea that there would be another time even so early on in the evening only pulled his face into a smirk, relieved and interested in that prospect however it came about. “Balance like that is always good to have.”

His eyes wandered down to John’s hands, taking in the rings, and how John fidgeted with them. It was almost comforting to know that John seemed just as nervous as Quinn felt. It didn’t seem to make sense why anyone would be quite so nervous with him, but it made it easier to just be there with no regrets to name. When John ordered, Quinn nodded, giving John another smile. “I’ll have the same.” The waiter confirmed softly, as he took their menus, and walked back to the kitchen.

Quinn’s attention never fully left John, his eyes drifting down to his own hands, to the other tables only momentarily, but John held onto it. “So,” he said, reaching for a piece of bread from the basket. “I don’t know that I’ve ever asked. But, where are you from?” It seemed like a silly question, one Quinn never asked people if he knew they weren’t townies like him. “I mean, you’re not originally from Crescent Harbor, right? A small town like this everyone knows a little about everyone. And I’ll be honest, I don’t know that I know anything other than the bits you’ve already told me.”

__

John knew that he was obvious when it came down to his nerves but one thing he was sure Quinn had already learned was that he wasn’t good at concealing how he felt. He knew he was expressive, his features never quite allowing him to be subtle and even his quirks gave him away. The way he cleared his throat, the way he played with his rings and reached up a little too often to fix his glasses – they were all indicators for how nervous he truly was. He knew he had no reason to, did he? Quinn wasn’t a stranger at this point and he did feel comfortable but maybe the more official part of it all, the less casual way of having a coffee together or chatting within the safety that was the gallery or running into each other at random caused all this to shift a little. Not that John minded – in fact, he was relieved. He’d wondered before, of course he had but he hadn’t expected Quinn to be interested. It was like they lived in different worlds entirely but never in a bad way, they had enough common interests but John knew that depending on what neighborhood you lived in, the town already had a certain picture of you and John barely occupied the docks the same way he assumed Quinn didn’t necessarily wander around Goldfinch much.

Once they’d ordered, John smiled lightly. “Time to find out what the missing ingredient is, hm?” He joked, yet he was entirely serious before his brows raised almost immediately, his focus entirely on Quinn again as he reached for his glass of water, taking a first sip as he listened, chuckling at the rather random yet basic question. “Oh god – now that I think about it, I probably only told you that I moved from Seattle but no, I’m not even from the area. I’m Canadian. I was born and raised in Toronto,” he shared, shaking his head. “If I’ve learned one thing so far having lived here for the past few years, it’s that you learn to spot newbies quickly,” John added with a chuckle. “You’re bound to keep running into each other if you’re actually located here, I think. At least that’s what keeps happening to me and well – kept happening to us, no?” His head tilted slightly, lips curving in slight amusement. “I’d be happy to change that though. What else would you like to know? I’m an open book,” he said, opening his palms as if to make a point, leaning back in his seat a little.

__

Quinn sometimes felt out of his depth with John, maybe he’d made the man too complex in his mind, but with the confirmation that John had not only lived in Seattle, but was from somewhere else entirely seemed almost intimidating. “Wow,” the word fell from his mouth on instinct. “And you settled on here?” he asked, more teasing than anything. “I remember going into Seattle when I was younger and just thinking that was where I wanted to go.” He smiled. “Wild to think a guy used to big cities would want to be here of all places.” Quinn took a sip of his own water, pondering over John’s own teasing question, kept happening to us, no? Quinn desperately tried to hide the laugh that bubbled in his chest, and the way he suddenly felt restless in his seat. “Oh, yeah. Running into each other so much, you’d think one of us was into the other. Unavoidable hazard of a small town, what can I say?” he teased back.

Quinn bit into the bread, and thought over his questions as he chewed, easing back into his chair a bit. “What did draw you here? I mean, I know I don’t know a whole lot about art, but I can’t imagine the scene here is exactly something to jump at compared to the city.” He didn’t tack on that he was glad it had brought the other man here, that they’d met and he could have some kind of casual flirt, a date, and wherever it ended up leading to, with someone who didn’t know him before, someone who had a cleaner image of him than anyone else in town. “Though, I’m sure the gallery is looking better now that someone who’s seen more of the art scene other places is running it.”

__

While John barely aligned with the image of him that seemed to live in Quinn’s mind, he was happy to share more about himself and shape it to something that felt a little more authentic instead. He knew what kind of impression he left, what he came across as but John truly wasn’t as stuck up and pretentious as his occupation and overall demeanor made it seem. Quinn’s reaction made him laugh – he could tell it was genuine but he was quick to nod. “I did! And have done so for the past…,” he pondered, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as he squinted, “six years? So it’s safe to say it was a rather final choice,” the man added, humming in understanding. He could see the appeal and maybe he looked at it from a different perspective considering that big cities were all he’d known before. “I like it,” John admitted with an almost shy smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved traveling before I settled here but…so far I like living smaller if you will,” he explained. “The anonymity can have its perks but it never quite felt like home.” At his teasing, John let out another small laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he looked back at Quinn, finally allowing himself to let his eyes linger for a moment as well. “Well, luckily one of us had the guts to finally step it up,” he joked in return, tilting his head. “In case you haven’t been able to figure that out yet, I’m not all that good with picking up on these things. I blame everyone around here being too friendly towards me.”

The amused smile remained on John’s lips and he reached for a piece of bread himself, his appetite suddenly making itself known but he’d been too lost in their conversation to realize until now. “That was exactly what drew me to Crescent,” he admitted. “Not that I ever planned on staying for as long as I had – I knew I wanted to live in a small town at some point and I came here for a trip on a weekend and fell in love with it. I learned that they had a position opening up for curation at the gallery and well…I gave myself a year but sometimes life just takes a turn that way,” he explained with a subtle shrug. “I worked in bigger galleries than this – not that that’s hard to do,” he chuckled, shaking his head before he continued, “but it had a certain charm to it, one I haven’t seen before. The art world can be…,” he trailed off, sighing as he tried to find a word, a brow raising before he leaned in slightly. “It can be a little pretentious sometimes. A little fake even and this felt more sincere to me. A gallery displaying art made by and for locals,” he concluded before his eyes averted bashfully at the compliment, his head tilting slightly. “Thank you. I’d hope so…otherwise I’d be very bad at my job,” he teased, taking another sip of water before clearing his throat. “What about you though? I know you’ve lived here for all your life, right? What made you stay?” He asked, popping a piece of bread into his mouth as dark eyes focused back on Quinn’s features.

__

His own gaze was filled with interest and amusement. Quinn knew that his time here was colored differently than someone like John. He didn’t hate Crescent Harbor, it had everything he needed, but there was plenty that he wanted to distance himself from, and he didn’t see what exactly drew anyone into the town. But, hearing John’s reasoning, he supposed he could understand it. Living smaller. Wasn’t that what Quinn had been doing in recent years? Simply trying not to be a burden anymore. “Smaller living, I get that.” He agreed with a nod. He listened as John spoke, genuinely interested and curious about not only what ended up bringing him here, but the small bits of his past that flitted in. He liked what John had to say, liked his reasons even if there were pieces of him that didn’t understand entirely. It made sense, to some degree, a sincerity to the town that certainly lived there, but that sincerity that Quinn himself knew hadn’t ever been a friend to him. He didn’t hold it against John, though, it was a new place to him, but the gentle insult to the pretentious and fakeness of bigger cities in John’s world at least help him understand a little more. “No, of course. It always looks great in there. You clearly know what you’re doing.”

The question to Quinn, though, was more complex, too heavy to answer naturally. He took another piece of bread, tearing a piece off and popping it into his mouth as he tried to find a simple way to say it. “I have,” he answered, swallowing the bite. “It just never worked out,” he said vaguely. “We stuck around when my son was born to get some help because me and my ex were just kids ourselves. But, she never left, and I can’t imagine leaving while he’s still growing up.” He gave John a soft smile. Talking about these things with John, on a date especially, felt strange. Mentioning Mason, Lara, all of it. He left the heavier shit, left out the mention of being broke, struggling with everything he had. John had pieces of his past that he was sure could grant a little insight. That seemed like enough. “Plus, at this point, I’m in my 30s and never really went anywhere. It’s hard to see myself not here. I think it’s just where I’m supposed to be. If that makes sense.”

__

It felt good – diving into the details a little more now that the two of them had the chance to. John had known Quinn for a few months now but right now it felt like they’d barely known each other at all. They’d kept their conversations light and casual, flirty, now that John reflected back but he’d never minded it. If anything, that was the point of exploring this, right? To get a feel for one another. For whether or not this one date would lead to another or even several more – not that John would get ahead of himself like that just yet. He smiled, nodding. It was a strange concept to think that while those who’d been born and raised here wanted to leave, yet he’d actively chosen to stay later on in his life. Granted, Quinn couldn’t know all the things that had led up to this moment and John wasn’t sure if it was the kind of thing to share over dinner. Yet, he was sharing more than he had without feeling like Quinn was judging him at all, if anything he was listening to him – showing genuine interest – and that alone was enough to reassure the man. “Thank you,” John repeated sincerely, a smile splaying across the curve of his lips.

As he mirrored the question back to him, John could sense the slight hesitation, nodding softly as the other man spoke. His son. How could he have forgotten about that? It was still a foreign concept to him – being a father. Having that kind of responsibility and it was then when he realized he’d never asked further. All Quinn had shared was that he had a son, hinting at the fact that his mother and him were no longer together so he nodded. “That makes perfect sense. I imagine it to be much harder to move when you want to be close to your child – that’s a good thing though, not everyone sticks around,” he said and maybe that was his own biography speaking but he let out a gentle breath instead, looking back at Quinn. “How old is your son now?” He asked curiously, his tone non-judgmental as he took another bite of his bread and another sip of his water. He didn’t mind the topic, let alone the fact that the other man had a kid. It wasn’t a dealbreaker to him – if this was to get any more serious that was. Chuckling, John shook his head. “I mean, I moved to Washington when I was just about thirty so…,” he joked, a teasing grin on his lips. “It’s never too late for new beginnings in my book but I do think that makes sense. I probably would’ve moved back to Toronto myself had I not gotten so attached.” It was then when their food arrived, interrupting their conversation briefly but John’s attention stayed focused on Quinn, merely straying to thank the waiter and shift in his seat. “But – here we are,” John added finally, a content smile gracing his lips.

__

Quinn felt a small pang at John’s words. The mention that not everyone stuck around was not meant to be pointed, maybe something personal but not at Quinn. It wasn’t the time to bring up all the bad, that was something they’d deal with down the road if that was where this went. “I do my best. I want to make sure he’s got a good support system.” He took a sip of his water, and slightly paled at the question as he thought about it. “He’s fifteen, just turned this past September. Starting high school and everything. Which makes me feel old as Hell,” he said with a laugh. Mason was a piece he never felt a hint of shame on, his only regrets surrounding it were in regards to himself. He was proud of Mason, even if he hadn’t played as positive of a role until the past few years. “He’s a good kid. Way better than I was at his age.” He was relieved once more, though, that John didn’t seem judgmental. He knew that he’d mentioned Mason in passing, but it was hardly an unusual thing if Mason had been younger, but having a kid when you weren’t even out of high school wasn’t exactly a shining badge to wear.

Their food arriving was a welcome interruption. He didn’t exactly think about leaving often anymore, more accepting the permanent stay in Crescent Harbor. It was fine, he’d accepted it plenty of years ago. But, John was kind, as always, giving him a level of support on something that barely ever crossed his mind anymore. He thanked the waiter, before his gaze moved back to John, meeting his smile. “Here we are,” he echoed. “And now you’re roped into helping me steal their recipe. I hope you’re ready for this important job,” he said, his tone teasing and soft. It was easy, their meal and their conversations stayed comfortable, that initial nervousness had practically disappeared by the time their food was in front of them. Whatever this was leading to, Quinn wanted that. He liked John. It didn’t have to be serious, but looking over at John, he wanted something. John had humored him along the way, and was sweet and understanding every step of it.

By the time they were finished, Quinn still wasn’t exactly sure what this all would end up amounting to. The waiter swung by with the bill, Quinn was quick to slip his card in and hand it back, his face still grinning across the table at the other man, making polite chit chat as he waited for the waiter to return, this time, signing the receipt and leaving his tip. He peered over at John, once more, not exactly wanting to end the night yet. Only giving himself a reassurance that they would likely do this again. “Are you ready?” he asked. “I don’t want to take up your whole night,” he said, smiling.

__

“If it makes you feel old, then what does that make me?” John teased, his words never anything but teasing as he grinned and his features softened. “I’m glad to hear that. And I’m sure it wasn’t easy raising a child being so young but I think it says a lot about you that you stayed – you must be so proud,” he said, eager to talk about this as casually as they could. He didn’t want this to be weird or too personal but his words were genuine. John was sure that now wasn’t the time to share more about his own experience but he was convinced Quinn was a good man. He had to be if he never left the town despite wanting to in order to be closer to his kid.

A laugh escaped and John covered his mouth subtly, as if they were sharing a secret once again. “Does this count as a crime if it’s for personal use only? Because this smells delicious and if you’re as good in the kitchen as you claim to be, I’ll be even happier to help if it means I get to eat this again,” he teased, only half-joking now that he was feeling a little bolder about his flirting. This felt good and easy enough – maybe John wasn’t as rusty as he’d thought he’d be or maybe the person he was on a date with being Quinn made it that much easier. It felt familiar enough and their gentle teasing and joking around caused every ounce of tension to fade.

As the evening carried on though, John was starting to feel restless all over again. He didn’t want it to end, let alone did he want this the last time they did this. He wasn’t sure what it was about Quinn but there was something and a part of him felt ready to allow himself to explore it. After having been single for years, John had come to peace with this just not being in the books for him but with Quinn being ever so charming and funny and kind towards him, that thought seemed to melt away. A part of him wanted to complain about him paying for him but he accepted it in the end, watching Quinn do so as if it was the most natural thing in the world but John didn’t take it for granted. Looking him over, John couldn’t help but laugh softly at the way they both couldn’t quite seem to get themselves to get up and get moving – as If neither of them wanted to let that night end just yet. “I am, thank you,” he told him before snorting and giving a fond roll of his eyes. “You say that like I’m ready to bail when really, this has been the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I’m having a great time, Quinn. You’re not taking up my night at all.” With that, John pushed his chair back though, letting out a breath as he got up hesitatingly.

__

“I’m having a great time too,” he said, a relaxed smile resting comfortably on Quinn’s face. Quinn followed John’s movement, pushing his chair out, and getting up. He didn’t want to end dinner, didn’t want to end their night. It felt too bold to ask him back to his place, didn’t want to push or assume. It was certainly something he wanted to do again, and extending the night to either of their places could come along with that. He’d never really dated, Lara was the only one he’d had anything serious with, or even a formal date with, and that had been years ago. But, it felt easy with John, a comfort from their budding friendship before all of this. Still, he wasn’t sure what the next moves were. He just tried to read the other man, tried to figure out just what was appropriate to ask. He sidled up next to John as they made their way out. His hand slipped into John’s, a gentle touch as they walked together.

As soon as they were out, back to John’s car, Quinn finally dropped the other man’s hand. Even for the short time, the loss of John’s hand felt weighty. He made his way to the other side of the car, and slid into the passenger seat. “I had a really great time tonight,” he said, his eyes looking over to John. “I know you said I’m not taking up your time, but I still stand by it. I’d still be up for something else, but I don’t want you to get sick of me just in one night,” he joked. “I’m hoping we can do this again, you know?”

__

The confirmation caused a grin to break out on John’s features. It should’ve been ridiculous because he could tell they were getting along and enjoying each other’s company and yet, he had the audacity to question it up until Quinn’s reassurance. Yet, it was then when John started to feel a little lost. Was this the end of their date already? He didn’t want it to be if he was honest to himself but he also wasn’t sure what the next step could be. He felt drawn to Quinn, his eyes constantly on him and as unfamiliar of a feeling as that was by now, after years of not really taking interest in anyone that way, John felt almost a little overwhelmed. John had never been the type to date around or sleep around for that matter. He’d made his fair share of experiences but if those had made him realize one thing, it was that sometimes you should trust your gut and with Quinn, there was nothing that alarmed him. Quite the opposite – he found it hard not to hope for more, yet he tried not to just yet. A gentle smile tugged on his lips when Quinn was bold enough to step into his personal space – not in a way that felt overwhelming but welcome and when his hand sought out his, John was surprised at the sudden touch but let his own fingers interlace with Quinn’s for a moment. They could unpack that later – he was sure of it. Right now, John merely let himself enjoy the connection, the way it made his heart beat a little faster and made his skin warm up.

John almost immediately missed the touch he’d not known for what must’ve been years and a part of him wanted to reach out again, keep them connected but he didn’t want to make this weird or overwhelming for either of them so he merely smiled back at Quinn and slipped into his car wordlessly. “I did, too,” he told Quinn genuinely, his eyes finding Quinn’s in the dim light of the parking lot illuminating the inside of his car. A genuine laugh escaped him and he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s possible…,” he said softly before falling silent for a moment. “Thank you,” John added. “For taking me out tonight and treating me to a nice dinner,” he told him. “I haven’t been on a date in quite some time and to say I was nervous would be an understatement but – you made it very easy to enjoy myself. Truth be told, I don’t really want it to end just yet so I also stand by the fact that you’re not taking up my time at all. I have no other plans tonight for a change so…,” he joked, trailing off with a grin. “I’m usually very busy watching TV at this hour but I’m open for suggestions.” With that, John started the engine but his eyes wandered back to Quinn for another moment. “I’d love to do this again, too, though. Whenever you’d like.”

__

Everything John said took away the tension that had come to reside in Quinn’s shoulders. The uncertainty if he’d misread the situation or had been alone in enjoying himself. It had just been dinner, it shouldn't have pulled him like this, made him want more so quickly. Yet, he did. He could suggest going and grabbing a coffee, going for a walk, something but his mind was suddenly blank, staring at the other man, engrossed in him. His face met John’s smile, and he shook his head. “It’s been a long time for me,” he admitted. “You definitely made it easy to shake the dust off.” He laughed lightly along with the man. TV was usually where he found himself as well, but compared to John’s company it lost its appeal.

The engine came to life, the warm glow of the street lights outside trading for the cool of the lights inside the car. His eyes met John’s once more, the confirmation of doing this again echoed in his ear for a long moment. A smile creeping over his features, before his eyes trailed down absently, landing on the other man’s lips. It was without any other hesitation that he was leaning in, pressing his lips to John’s. His hand coming to rest against the other man’s jaw to draw him in. Nothing urgent or rough. And over far too quickly. He pulled away, his eyes flirting open to meet John’s once more, taking in the warmth of his dark brown eyes. He wanted more, wanting to chase that as much as he could, but he held himself in place, smiling to John. His hand never left its home on the other man’s skin, simply slipping down against the warmth of his neck to rest his fingers gently. “I hope that was okay,” he said, a laugh framing his words.

__

The reassurance was all they’d needed for the last bit of uncertainty to fade away and John, for the first time in years, felt ready to let this happen. Quinn wasn’t a stranger after all. He’d proven to him that he was genuine – otherwise he wouldn’t have spent months talking to him, right? Again, John didn’t want to keep his hopes up but Quinn made it easy to forget the times in the past that had burned him and when he looked back at him, his eyes meeting a pair of warm blues, John couldn’t help but feel like he should lean in. Like there was some tension between them that was far off from the nervousness they’d radiated earlier that night. It had been just dinner but John already wanted to see Quinn again, even with him still right there in front of him. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “That makes two of us then,” he said, the words once again calming him – they were in this together now.

The silence that settled for a moment didn’t feel awkward in the slightest but John didn’t miss the way Quinn’s eyes dropped and for a moment he wondered if he was making this up – if it was wishful thinking that he’d fixed on his lips for a little too long but suddenly, the other man was leaning in, his face right there and breath warm on his skin and John allowed himself to melt into it, meeting him for a chaste, gentle kiss – merely a press of lips and a tender brush of Quinn’s calloused fingertips against his jaw. John let out a shaky breath in surprise, his own eyes meeting Quinn’s as he let out a small chuckle. The touch against the side of his neck made his skin prickle and hairs rise as he held his glance and it was his turn to let his eyes linger on Quinn’s lips as he spoke, a laugh of his own escaping. “That was – yeah, god – no, that was completely okay,” he breathed and couldn’t help the broad grin that spread. “It was fine, actually,” John teased, meeting Quinn’s glance again as he bit his lip, pondering if it was okay to want more so soon already but he let himself take the leap and closed the distance once more, keeping their kiss light once again before he pulled away with a soft hum. “Definitely okay,” he laughed. “So – where to?”

__

When John met him for another kiss, Quinn didn’t want that one to end. It was light, and soft, something chaste and sweet just as it seemed like it should be so soon. Still, pulling away felt difficult. The touch and the affection felt foreign to him after going so long without, but it was welcome, and with John, it just left him wanting more. He could have pulled John in deeper, held him to the kiss for longer, and he wanted to, but it was too soon for that, wasn’t it? He let his hand drop from John’s neck, falling back to his side. He pulled away, the hum that escaped John left him reeling a little, his mind suddenly wandering over the noise. It only left him wanting more, wanting to hear more of that. He bit his lip, gentle and let it slip back out from his teeth with ease. He cleared his throat, an attempt at clearing his mind from where it had trailed off to.

At John’s question, Quinn hardly hesitated before responding. “We can go back to my place,” the words slipped out, sounding as casual as Quinn could muster. “I mean, for like coffee and maybe watch some TV,” he said, a gentle laugh floating the words. “If that’s what we’d be doing anyway, you know?” He didn’t want to overstep a boundary, didn’t want to overwhelm them both. He wasn’t exactly a casual hookup kind of guy, and he didn’t get that impression from John either. They were both grown men, they both knew where this could lead if John agreed, what Quinn tried not to imply. Nothing had to happen, it could stay innocent and they could just do exactly what Quinn had suggested if they really wanted to. His eyes didn’t stray from John’s though, even as he settled back into the seat, his head leaning back slightly against the headrest. “Or wherever you want, really. I’m good with anything.”

__

A part of John had wanted to linger, too – there was no denying that. There was no point in lying to himself and pretending like he didn’t want to deepen the kiss either, to keep Quinn close and see where it’d take them but he was thankful for the way Quinn seemed to understand. It was new for both of them – not entirely but John didn’t want to put too much pressure on them either. This didn’t have to be more or let alone physical. John enjoyed their conversations and now, as he’d discovered, he also enjoyed kissing Quinn. His brows raised almost immediately at Quinn’s suggestion but the smile that spread across his lips was amused, not at all put off by the idea. “Coffee and TV sound good – if you don’t mind me occupying more of your night,” John added, always checking in for their consent, trying to keep them on the same page even though Quinn had suggested it.

“I mean, that’d make sense, right? I’d literally just go home and do just that after dropping you off,” he admitted with a grin. John wasn’t naïve. Oblivious, yes but he’d picked up on their chemistry and the tension that was still building between them. Their kisses had left him wanting more and maybe, just maybe, he was hoping for it to turn into more kisses – ones that lasted longer than the pecks they’d shared and maybe they’d allow themselves to let them grow deeper but before John could drift too far, he snapped himself out of it. He let out a deep breath – an attempt to ground himself. Was this a good idea? John had no idea just yet but it felt right, so why not go for it? With that last reassuring thought, John chuckled and started pulling out of the parking lot, looking over at Quinn briefly. “You’ll have to navigate me,” he declared, once again confirming that going home with Quinn was more than good with him.

__

“Not at all,” Quinn confirmed. “I’m more than okay with you occupying my night.” It wasn’t needed, but Quinn appreciated the check in. As John rambled on, Quinn just nodded, doing his best to hide the teasing grin that threatened to take over his face. “Right,” he agreed. “It just makes the most sense. Neither one of us wants to go home and just watch TV alone, might as well just hang out together.” That was all that had to happen, Quinn assured himself. He wanted more, sure. The kisses they’d already shared were just enough to leave him wanting to turn that into more. It didn’t have to turn into an entire night, only going as far as they decided. Still, he wanted those soft, quick kisses to go deeper, longer, let them take over his brain for however long they could. Maybe if this was someone else, someone he had just met he would have been okay ending the night here, being dropped off and waiting to see them again before anything more. But, his interest in John had been lasting for months, and now with a successful dinner, and the seal broken on affection, he didn’t want to let the night end just like that.

John pulled out of the parking lot, and Quinn felt the tension build all over again, of what would come. He gave John directions, telling him where to turn, and when. Their conversation nearly dropped to zero as the two focused on the roads. The short drive in the small town felt too long. “Okay, the next driveway on your right is my place,” he said, pointing it out ahead of time for John to slow and pull in. As soon as they parked, Quinn looked over at John with a frown. “Make sure to lock your car. I know we’ll just be inside. But, I know it’s not really the best neighborhood.” Quinn let himself out of the car, pulling his keys out of his pocket. He waited for John to come around his side of the car, before heading up to the front door, and unlocking it. He switched on the light, and stepped inside, moving to let John in. “It’s not much, but please, make yourself comfortable.” He felt a little self conscious over the place. It wasn’t dirty, or messy, just the cheap thrifted furniture mismatched with the things he’d made himself set up around the place. Nothing seemed to match, not the TV stand he’d built to the cheap plaid couch that sat across from it in the living room. Not John and the rest of the room. “I’ll, um, put on a pot.”

__

John knew he didn’t have to ask Quinn again or make sure he was really okay with it – the kisses and invitation should’ve been more than enough confirmation but he couldn’t help it. A part of him still thought this was surreal, too good to be true because while John wasn’t someone for one night only types of things either, whether that was a date or something more, it felt safer with Quinn – he knew him and his interest felt more genuine. He wanted to continue seeing him after all, right? He grinned back at the other man when he reasoned their decision and nodded. “Exactly.” John didn’t expect anything to come out of this – he didn’t expect more but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hoping for it. Kissing Quinn had felt good already, sharing the gentle press of their lips together but he was itching for more, he could try to deny but the truth was that it had been a long time coming, whether he was just now realizing it or not.

They were silent, safe for the way Quinn navigated him to his home and once John parked the car, he looked over at the other man, giving a gentle nod. He was well aware of the reputation the neighborhood had but that didn’t taint the way he saw Quinn. “Got it,” he told him with a reassuring glance and got out as well, locking the car like the other man had advised him to before following him inside. It was then when the nerves seemed to set back in and the man let out a breath before looking around. John was quick to shake his head at the comment. “It’s your place,” he said. “So thank you for inviting me in,” he added. The place was tidy but it made John smile because it was almost like he’d imagined it to be. A little scattered. A little mismatched – he picked up on the fact that Quinn didn’t care much about the things he did like design or what color went with what if the plaid couch was any indication but John didn’t judge and his focus wasn’t so much on the interior anyways but his eyes followed the other man. “Yeah – okay,” he breathed. “Thank you,” John said again, shrugging off his coat before putting it away and without thinking twice about it, he followed Quinn – not wanting to be too far apart.

__

Quinn turned the corner into the kitchen, digging into cabinets for the coffee grounds. He was aware of John, almost too aware that the other man was staying close. Something he wanted, something that he was thrilled at the prospect of. He didn’t want coffee, not really, not now. He wanted to just sit with John, kiss him and embrace what this visit really was. He grabbed a coffee filter, and put it into the maker, scooping grounds into it. What did you say to someone you brought home when you weren’t trying to make it seem like you were interested only in a casual hookup, a one night thing? This was all new to Quinn, it was new to John too, and based on either of their shared quiet, neither of them was exactly sure. Because that wasn’t at all what he wanted. He filled the machine with water, finally leaving it so it could do the rest. He finally turned to John, a goofy smile taking over his face as he took the other man in. “Hi,” he said, the word feeling dumb as it slipped from his lips. “It’ll, um, it’ll be a few minutes. Old machine, takes a while.” Each word he spoke was punctuated by a step toward John, slow and encroaching into his space.

“So, we could, you know, find something to watch, or-” he cut himself off. His gaze trailed back to John’s lips, something he didn’t even try to hide. He didn’t know why he was pretending, really. He didn’t give John a chance to agree, or lead the two of them over to the couch. He leaned in, capturing John’s lips with his own. This kiss was something else from the last ones before they’d arrived. It wasn’t urgent or desperate, though both things were becoming more true of Quinn as they stood there. It was still soft, but one he didn’t pull away from, longer, only becoming deeper. His hand came back up, this time coming to rest comfortably in the crook of his neck, his fingers slipping into John’s hair, and letting the kiss last as long as he could. When he finally pulled away, he only did so far enough for his half-lidded eyes to meet John’s, staying close enough to feel the warmth of John’s breath land against his skin. “Or we can do that,” he breathed out, his lopsided grin ever present. “Whichever you’d prefer.”

__

John felt a little awkward – unable to help but also unable to occupy himself and how could he when his mind was already drifting. Instead, he watched Quinn, allowed himself a moment to see the other man in a different light. He’d always thought that he was attractive but maybe he’d stopped himself from unpacking just how attractive he thought he was. But now that he knew there was more to their friendship, despite not quite able to put a name on it, he let out a deep, inaudible breath, his mind racing with both the pros and cons of doing this. They were both grown adults – there was nothing stopping them from indulging in the newly found connection and yet, John was nervous. Nervous to find out what it’d do to the friendship they’d built. Nervous to find out what they’d miss out on if they didn’t explore further. He didn’t want this to seem like he’d had any ulterior motives agreeing to going home with Quinn – that hadn’t been the case. He’d felt drawn to him and wasn’t ready to stop spending time with him, that wasn’t a crime, was it? It was new and overwhelming – not something John had ever done or done a lot at least. He’d never been one to enjoy random hookups. Instead, he always sought out some kind of connection – one he definitely had with Quinn. A soft laugh escaped him when Quinn caught on to the way he’d been staying close, his eyes lingering. “Hey,” he breathed, shaking his head. “That’s okay,” he added, the breath knocking out of his lungs now that Quinn was in his space again – a tall, broad yet gentle presence and John wanted to reach out. He wanted to welcome him into that newly claimed space.

His brows raised with intrigue when suddenly Quinn’s eyes trailed down again and a knowing smile tugged on John’s lips. It was obvious that they both wanted this and John had a feeling that Quinn was holding back for the same reasons he was. A surprised gasp escaped when Quinn did in fact retain some of his boldness, kissing him again and this time, it wasn’t as chaste as their first or even their second one had been. Yet, John welcomed it and kissed him back almost immediately. His lips brushing against Quinn’s in a way that felt almost like he was testing it out, seeing how much deeper he could let this grow and for a moment, it was John’s turn to get bolder now. He parted his lips against Quinn’s lightly, sucking against his lower one as his eyes fluttered fully shut and there it was again, the gentle touch of Quinn’s hand against the side of his neck and his fingers sliding into his hair. A part of John screamed at him to stop, to not let this get further and yet, another part, the one that felt like taking a risk screamed to ignore it and to indulge for once after having denied him for so long. When they parted, John felt breathless, his own eyes heavy-lidded and dazed, his breath coming out hot against Quinn’s lips as he chuckled, his own hand coming up to cup Quinn’s jaw tenderly, his thumb brushing against his stubbly cheek before he leaned in for another quick kiss, hoping that’d answer his question. “I’m good with that if you are,” he whispered, searching for Quinn’s glance once again. “I mean…you said coffee will take a while, right?”

__

That was all it took. John’s matched boldness, sucking his bottom lip in, it was a confirmation that this was more than fine, more than accepted. But, when John followed Quinn’s offer with a kiss of his own in the space between, Quinn was ready to get a little more lost in it, happy to forget the pot of coffee he’d started. He didn’t say anything else, just dove back in, capturing John’s lips with his once more. The testing waters had been passed on this, his own lips parting against John’s, his tongue running against John’s lip, asking to be granted access. Finally deepening the kiss as soon as he could. His free hand came to rest on John’s hip, and pulled him gently, until they were pressed flush against each other. A contented hum was the first sound that escaped him other than breaths in what felt like hours, but had only been moments.

The only conscious thought that streamed through Quinn’s mind was a mental navigation of the small house. He started walking them back out from the kitchen, breaking the kiss once to find the couch, sitting down once in reach. There wasn’t a question posed this time, simply tugging the dark haired man back to him, only to wrap up into each other once more. His hands found their place once more, one trailing from his hip to move up his back. He trailed his lips from John’s moving along his jaw, and down to his neck, replacing the hand that had been resting there, as he focused his attention on the warm patch of skin. His efforts turning from kisses to sucking at his neck, never long enough in one place or bearing teeth to leave marks, just new brief boldness before he moved back, capturing John’s lips once more with his, this time full of hunger and urgency.

__

John was surprised at how easily he’d allowed himself to dive into this head first. How he was beyond holding back so quickly. Maybe it was the way Quinn made it seem so easy and so very welcome – maybe it was the residue of the tension that had built up over time. But now, with both of them close and eager to continue whatever this was and whatever it’d end up being, John couldn’t seem to care about the consequences. Not when Quinn seemed to take over in his mind, the softness of his lips and the gentle brushes clouding it and dissolving the nagging doubts, his insecurities and the only thing that mattered was getting more of Quinn’s touches. Of his kisses. Of his attention. A low hum vibrated in his chest when Quinn deepened the kiss even further now that John had given him the okay – the animation enough for him to get more daring and John was happy to go along with it, his own lips parting to meet Quinn’s tongue with his own as their kiss turned into something a lot less innocent. It was like they were running on autopilot now – the kisses and touches new and exciting, yet also weirdly familiar to John. Quinn felt safe that way and it was then when he gave in fully, a soft gasp escaping against Quinn’s lips when he pulled him closer, close enough to let their bodies align with ease. The low hum made John smile into the kiss and it made him feel confident enough in what he was doing to Quinn to let his own arms wrap around his middle, hands splaying against his back to keep him flush against him.

When Quinn started to relocate them, John went along with it right away. Walking with Quinn as they stayed connected and allowing the other man to take the lead. They didn’t talk – they didn’t have to. Their bodies did it for them as they barely left any space between them, only parting so they could get situated. When Quinn settled, John followed by letting him pull him into his lap. Breaking away with a soft gasp, John’s eyes flickered open to look down and into those stormy blues he’d been lingering on all night. It was then when he knew, deep down, that this was the last chance to back out. Mainly because he knew that he was already a goner – had already allowed himself to dive in too deep and there was no way he was going to want to stop. Quinn felt good against him, the warmth he radiated comfortable and safe and their bodies seemed to fit alongside one another almost perfectly, the slight height difference enough to give Quinn easy access to his neck and god – if John hadn’t been in trouble before, he most definitely was now. John hadn’t been touched like this in what felt like forever and the way Quinn kissed him felt both eager, yet tender – like he did care about him beneath the hunger and that alone put John’s mind at ease all over again. One of his own hands had found its way into Quinn’s hair, the other splayed against his shoulders when he let his head tip to the side with a content sigh. How Quinn had figured out just where to kiss and where to touch him so easily? John could worry about that later on but right now, he could feel his skin heat up and his body arch into Quinn’s. The gentle suction against his neck making him cling at Quinn’s shirt before he let their lips meet again in a kiss that allowed John to fall into this newly found pleasure, his body melting into Quinn’s as he finally let himself indulge in whatever this meant for them – it didn’t matter now, not when it felt like he was right where he was supposed to be that night.  

[fyrapartnersearch]

18+ Roleplay Buddy!

Hello, hello! I am 18+ and looking for an 18+ NSFW Partner.

-My name is Erika

-I’m 21 years old (Soon-to-be-22)

-From the USA (Eastern time-zone)

-Currently in College

Hello! Anyone that sees this is welcome to message me if you are interested and you see this post. I’m an experienced role-player that has been writing for around 4-5+ years now. I’m open to any types of pairings while RPing a story. Especially looking for partners to message. Someone who is casual and fun and we can just both write together. Have as much creative freedom as you want for whatever story that we are able to create. I want to have us both be able to enjoy it. Don’t be afraid to tell me any ideas, suggestions, stories of your own, and so on and so forth! I like to make sure that my partner is comfortable whenever the two of us chat!

Also a small note, I do have a life outside of writing such as school and working in general. I try to understand with my partner or whoever a chat with so with that being said, I have a busy schedule and I can’t message all the time so I just ask to understand that this is long term for a reason and if I happen to miss your message it is because I am busy, working, and possibly sleeping. I try my best to reply whenever I can but sometimes I do miss and hope that you can understand that happens. I like to be understanding myself and if there is the chance that you can’t talk or RP then I completely understand and rather you focus on life than feeling obligated to message me.

Besides that, I myself am looking to start a long term mature and mostly smutty story, I love fantasy, romantic, action, darker themes dabbled in, and most storyline RPs, if you have an idea that I haven’t tried I’m willing to do it too along with more realistic plot points. I’m very detailed and like a detailed partner too, I usually roleplay in the first person but I do the third person as well if I have to if it is better fitting for the roles within the story. Just tell me which one that you prefer. If you don’t have a preference in mind then I’m sure we can discuss further to settle on something enjoyable. As much as I love smut I do like to have some kind of story so that the constant sex will not get boring. So basically some porn with a plot!

-I do also have a few mini-plot ideas that I can share below to get some creativity going for whoever is interested but nothing is completely set in stone and I am more than happy to change things around to fit both of our needs or come up with something fresh entirely! Just want to help get people brainstorming and see some of the ideas that I have in mind at the moment too.

First, an innocent person unexpectedly being dragged into the crime world when they become the affection and obsession of a mob boss that is not easy to avoid or escape from. The innocent person knows their evil and wrong but it’s very hard to resist them in any way. The more the innocent person tries to stay away the stronger the obsession becomes to the point of being drawn into each other no matter how bad the relationship may be for one another. This plot can have a darker theme and tone to it but I am more than happy to do a much more of a redemption arc to this one.

Second, is an asylum plot, a newbie that enters and is eye-catching to a few other patients that have been living inside the hospital. All having the same thing in mind, leaving the hospital but it’s not as easy as said with the other patients inside and corrupted doctors around. There also could be an alternative plot or side plot in general with a doctor and patient-focused relationship dark theme mostly for this plot and can be supernatural as well.

Third, is more of a pairing with a goody-good and the delinquent, having a more of an opposite attraction sort of situation between the two, maybe starting off with bullying or dislike for one another and having the two interacting. Possibly a dominant bad boy/girl, overpowering the submissive and innocent of the pair. The makings of a possible relationship being able to develop between the two of them or having it eventually crumble apart. I have some more brainstorming that I want to do with this but I would be happy to hear any ideas that you may have if interested, feeling that this will be another more casual and a slice of life in general.

-Those being the more realistic plot points above I have in mind grounded in reality but here are my more fantasy-based plots below.

First is a vampire and human plots as I have a few different ideas that could be used for these roles in general, a human that becomes the bride and/or groom for a ruthless vampire that has been looking for their soulmate all their life. But the soulmate is a human of course and doesn’t know of supernatural life or even in possible denial of there being supernatural beings in the first place. An alternative plotline for the arranged marriage is the human’s parents had been in debt years ago right before they were born, deciding to make a deal with the vampire to be able to provide a good life for their child. But of course, there has to be an equal exchange, that being their hand in marriage once at adult age. With that agreement in place, the human is allowed the chance of a normal life without worries, unaware as their next mid-stone birthday they will have their whole world turned around. Those are the two main ideas in my mind but I am happy to hear anything that you may have. This being more character development and a plot-focused one if you have an interest in this one.

Second is a damsel in distress plot, a princess of a well-known kingdom that gets kidnapped by a group of bandits. The princess is held by them to get as much money as they could for having a ransom. But the more they travel the closer they get to each other. Or it could be the opposite and the princess is actually saved by a hero of the kingdom. Possibly a knight in shining armor, a wanted criminal looking to get some treasure, or even the so-called village idiot. Either way, there is a princess that needs saving! Both developments go over the course of classical fantasy adventure land. Monsters, magic, and everything in between. With this one, I wanna do plenty of world-building, plenty of establishing of characters, and making it feel like the environment is really alive around our characters too.

Third is a human becoming the affection of a wolf’s pact. A lost human in the forest runs into wolf territory unknown to the human. Leaving them completely trapped as the wolves take the human and use them as the housemate. The plot could also be an alpha finding their mate after years of searching but now has to claim them along with the troubles that their mate is a human. But with a human in wolf territory, it can be quite hard with the rising tension in the air. This one could be of course one pairing or multiple pairings depending on those who are interested in playing multiple characters throughout the story.

Fourth, more sci-fi fantasy alien focus plots! An alien has been tracking along and stumbled upon Earth, out of all the millions of places that they could have ended up, the alien is right within the human’s home. Different avenues could be made here, maybe the human taking care of the alien and helping them adapt to life on Earth. Another could be that the alien is being tracked down by the government and changes to the two of them being on the run from the law. With that in mind, we could do the reverse of the story, the alien decides to take one of the humans from Earth and travel along with space. Humans being a species in which are quite rare at this point and nearly on the verge of extension. Leading to some otherworldly beings stepping in to ensure that the human lives life enough to repopulate. Another more action-driven plot is an alien and an android, one being a galactic criminal and the other a bounty hunter that is trying to stop them and end their crime spree around space. Much more of a cat and mouse chase with plenty of encounters in between. Who will really win this game in the end? All of these ideas of course either taking place in a more general modern-day Earth or the bounds of space. Since there are three separate ideas just specify which one you would like to go more into planning with.

Fifth, much more futuristic or steampunk theme plot. A mad scientist and their Frankenstein creation, one would call them a mad person for trying to bring someone to life, whether mechanical or a real being either way after trial and failure over and over again, Their creation finally comes to life! Their greatest accomplishment is finally complete yet it’s unlike anything they ever expected. Sure bringing something to life is amazing in itself but when that life is rather lacking in intelligence, it can be quite troublesome. As mentioned this will have a more futuristic setting with some world-building in mind, a dystopian future can be used along with this too if wanting to give a chance at that too.

Sixth, a bit more of a large idea retaining inside of a home. A human, rather down on their luck, not much family and not having the best of life always passes by an old home, large and intimidating in size. Practically having the look of being abandoned. Even with retaining the look of nothing inside, the home always seems to call for them. Beckoning them inside yet the human always ignored the call and walked along by day after day. Growing the urge to follow that call as it gets louder and louder each time until finally, the human decides to end it and see what’s truly inside. Now, for this plot, I would like it to have a bigger scaled version of symbiosis. Beings that are occupying the same space despite having a history of not coexisting together. Some depend on one another for their own reasons while others use the living space to benefit off of what comes inside the trap. A labyrinth of sorts once inside, would the human truly have what it takes to escape or will they be completely swallowed up whole. This being a rather bigger idea on my end with playing multiple characters and such but you are always more than welcome to play more too. If this one piques your interest then just let me know so we can start discussing more.

Seventh, a more fantasy-themed world in general with this one. I have been really craving something with being suddenly dropped into a world that is much more intimidating and overwhelming around them. Think Alice in Wonderland or Little Nightmares and such where the goal of the main character is to return home again. Having to rely on wits and watch their step every way in fear of making the wrong move at any time. Though with further exploration of this land will you get swept up and trapped inside or manage to crawl your way back out. With this one, I am open to hearing any ideas that you would like to add along with the overall tone as I see it being a wonderous trip through unexplored lands or a gritty survival trail to home. Either way, I am happy to explore more on it.

Eighth, more Sci-Fi fantasy in mind with this one. More groundhog day in mind. Being trapped repeating the same day over and over again only to wake up and do the same. It seems that only you have the memory of what happens which makes you seem to be the one responsible of breaking this loop. Trying multiple ways, trial and error day after day, all seems lost until finally one day you meet someone that remembers your name.

-As stated above all the plot ideas that I mentioned are open to change and I am happy to hear any other ideas that you may have. I myself am a very open-minded person and am happy to hear whatever ideas, kinks, fetishes that you may have in more detail as we chat alone. Everything and anyone is welcomed to message me!

+I do wanna mention a few things here since most people scroll to the bottom and I just wanna make sure I get across the most important information here.

+18+ only partners

+I usually play female characters, I have played male characters in the past but do not have nearly as much experience with them. I could give it a try if you request but it will probably be some of my more shaky work.

+I like to control my character and I would like to keep control of my character. Please do not control my character in any way. I hope that I do not come across as rude but it is a small pet peeve of mine.

+Also apologies in advance but I do not really much fandom stuff really, things with pre-established characters and history are not my strong suit, and feel that I make them more of my own version of that character than anything else so I would rather just do my own OC’s then do a character from something else made.

+I also would like to make this clear once again, I do have work and I am a college student, this is why it’s a long-term roleplay and I am looking for a recurrent partner. If I am busy then I am busy. I would much rather be doing something fun but alas I cannot spend all my time writing and I just want that to be a clear understanding before you decide to message me.

TL;DR: I’m looking for a new detailed long-term roleplay partner and I am more than happy to hear any ideas in mind. As far as contacting me goes you can always message me but I will warn you that I usually don’t do my roleplaying on Reddit since I tend to not get notified about messages so if you are still interested after that I am more than happy to share my discord. Please be patient, as I try to get to every message I can and I apologize if I do miss yours in that process.

And if you are having trouble adding me there then please message me here and let me know!

Discord: BbwCandy18#9717

[bytheangell]

All You Have to Do Is Stay

(Read on AO3) Square Filled: Wing Fic for @shadowhunterbingo Pairing: Jace Herondale/Simon Lewis Rating: Teen and Up  – Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary: As Simon prepares to go out for Halloween, fangs and all, Jace considers a 'mark' of his own he's been hiding and wonders if it's time to show Simon... -------------

Jace doesn’t know if getting the night off on Halloween is a blessing or a curse. With demonic activity at a surprising low for this time of year, Isabelle decides to not run a full staff, which means Jace is free for the holiday for the first time in… well, maybe ever. Rebecca is flying in to visit Simon for Halloween, their yearly tradition; it’s also the first time she’s been back to New York since he and Simon started dating a few months ago. Against all of his better judgment, Jace agrees to go out with them for the night.

“You look ridiculous,” Jace says, eyeing Simon up and down. Simon looks like he was plucked directly out of a children’s cartoon, with his hair slicked back, wearing an all-black suit Raphael loaned him under a black cape with a bright red inner lining. “You’re literally a vampire, Simon. You do know no one dresses like that, right? I mean, I know I don’t spend a lot of time at the Dumort these days, but…”

“Of course I do,” Simon cuts him off. “But it has to be cheesy for no one to question it. If it’s exaggerated then it’s obviously a costume and no one thinks twice.”

Simon smiles, and that’s when Jace sees his fangs are out. His actual fangs, and not some piece of store-bought costume. And damn if that isn’t doing something to him just then. Even around the other Shadowhunters Simon usually keeps his fangs hidden. It’s strange to see him walking around with them so… casually.

Jace catches himself staring and tears his eyes away from the pointed canines.

“And you’re just going to walk around like that? In public?” Jace asks, ignoring the slight hitch in his breath.

Simon shrugs. “Sure. It’s Halloween. All of the mundanes just assume everything is a costume. The warlocks all go out without glamouring their marks, everyone will just think Seelies are some elaborate elf costume… the werewolves are kinda screwed, even the most detailed furry costume doesn’t look like an actual wolf. But yeah. It’s actually kind of cool.”

Jace almost asks what a ‘furry’ is and decides that he’s fine not knowing just then, especially not when a much larger and more consuming thought has now taken over his entire brain: letting his ‘mark’ show.

Two spots on his back itch in anticipation at the mere thought, muscles begging him to be released. No one knows about his ‘gift’ outside of the Lightwoods, and that’s only because while he was still growing they were still growing, and he couldn’t keep them glamoured and hidden for too long without ending up in horrible amounts of pain.

“Jace? Earth to Jace?” Simon’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “You alright? You zoned out, like, a lot just then.”

Jace doesn’t have an immediate reply. He wants to tell Simon, he really does. He wants to let Simon in, to let Simon know all of him. And it isn’t that he doesn’t trust Simon to keep his secret...

...it’s that he doesn’t think he’ll stay after he knows.

A lot of thoughts cross through Jace’s mind just then. He runs through a million and one scenarios in the blink of an eye, and 99% of them end with Simon very politely ending things because he didn’t sign up for this. It’s weird, even by Shadow World standards. Even by Simon standards. Alec and Izzy were always kind about it, but Maryse and Robert always stressed how important it is that no one ever finds out, that they’re something to be ashamed of, something to hide.

He also thinks of meeting Rebecca in an hour or two. Meeting Simon’s family, allowing them to get invested in him too, the same way Simon has. Maybe it’s best to get this done and over with now, like ripping off a bandaid.

“Okay, now you’re starting to worry me,” Simon says, frowning and taking a step closer, reaching an arm out towards Jace. Jace takes an instinctive step backward, defensive before he even started speaking, and that’s when he knows that he’s already made up his mind without realizing it.

“Simon, there’s something I have to tell you. Or, well, show you I guess,” Jace speaks finally. He watches Simon’s face closely, the small, cautious smile as Simon nods.

“Yeah, sure. What is it?” Simon is definitely worried, and Jace hates that he’s the reason for that concern.

“So, you know how Clary and I were, uh, experimented on as kids?” It’s rhetorical, they both know that Simon knows, but Jace waits anyway to buy himself a few more seconds to collect his thoughts. This isn’t how he imagined doing this, and he thought about it a lot the longer the two of them were together, but he usually pictured some quiet, intimate moment, and not while Simon was dressed up as Dracula.

“Yes,” Simon says, his tone soft and encouraging.

“Right. Well, I didn’t just get the ability to activate my runes without a stele,” he admits. “The angel blood in me, it… I also got, uh…” he stalls again, the words fading away. It isn’t too late to make up a lie, or say ‘nevermind’ and save this for another day. Maybe he can buy himself a few more weeks, hell, maybe a few more months, with Simon before he brings it up and sends him running.

“Hey,” Simon says, filling the silence Jace falls into. “Whatever it is, you know you can tell me. It’s alright.”

Jace wants to believe him, but he can’t undo two decades of being told it isn’t alright. So instead he takes a deep breath and steels himself for the inevitable.

“I have wings.”

He’s never said it out loud to anyone before. He couldn’t even say it to Maryse and Robert, it just sort of happened, and they were the ones to tell Alec and Isabelle. Jace always just referred to them as, well, them. I have to let them out again, he’d say, and Alec would know he needed help with the matted areas that inevitably formed from hiding them for too long.

A heavy silence falls between them when Simon doesn’t respond right away. Jace is bracing himself for a gentle let down. Maybe that Simon is going to go out with Becky alone, and come back and let him down easy so it doesn’t ruin his night. Or maybe Simon will be so mad that Jace kept this from him that he’ll just yell at him and kick him out here and now.

Simon doesn’t look upset, but he doesn’t look particularly happy, either. He’s studying Jace carefully, eyes narrowed a little.

“You have wings,” Simon repeats finally.

“Yeah,” Jace breathes out the word, on pins and needles in anticipation.

“Okay.”

“...okay?” Jace has no idea what the fuck to do with that.

Simon frowns. “I mean I’ve never… how do you have wings and I’ve never seen them, or felt them? I’ve definitely seen you naked before. Plenty of times, and-” Simon stops abruptly. “The scars. The two on your back. Are they-”

“Yeah,” Jace confirms, self-consciously shifting so that his back is facing away from Simon, the scars under his shirt included.

“I never thought to ask about them, I just assumed it was, you know, normal Shadowhunter injury stuff. Werewolf scratch or something.” Simon pauses, and Jace can feel his eyes on him even as Jace very intentionally avoids eye contact.

“I wish,” Jace mutters. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Simon is being way too calm about all of this, and he doesn’t like it. When Jace doesn’t say anything else and neither does Simon the silence between them is almost too much. Jace can feel Simon’s eyes on him and can only think the worst: that Simon’s trying to find some polite way to say that it’s too weird, or too much, or that he lied about it for too long to be trusted. In fact, Jace is about to give him the easy out and beat him to it when Simon speaks again.

“Can I see them?” Simon asks quietly.

“What?” This isn’t what Jace expects to hear. In fact, he’s certain he must be hearing things.

“I mean if it’s too… personal, or whatever, that’s fine. I don’t want to overstep. But I’d love to see them, if you’ll let me,” Simon repeats.

Jace looks around Simon’s apartment as if half-expecting a small crowd to suddenly appear to watch as well. But it’s just them, and the curtains are drawn, and Rebecca hasn’t texted to say she’s anywhere close yet.

“I don’t know,” Jace stalls.

“Hey, that’s fine. I mean, I can’t imagine having wings and not wanting to show them off all the time, but if you ever do the offer is there.” Simon steps closer, taking Jace’s hand in his own and giving it a comforting squeeze.

And that’s when it hits Jace: Simon isn’t shying away. He isn’t running. In fact, he’s explicitly saying he’ll still be here whenever Jace changes his mind.

That’s the push he needs to take a deep breath and make that leap.

“Wait,” Jace says as Simon turns to head back towards his bedroom. Simon stops and turns, and as he does so Jace slowly takes off his shirt. Then he very slowly and carefully begins to spread his wings.

It’s been a while. He can feel the aches, moving in small, shifting increments instead of some quick, grand, dramatic gesture. The feathers are mostly golden - a soft, shining hue closest to his skin and along the tops of each wing, fading to a pure white at the tips. They match his eyes, which also shine with a shade of gold that almost glows under the light. Jace wonders how long it’s been since he brushed them out - a quick glance at them doesn’t seem to show any glaring issues and he’s silently praying they aren’t matted in places he can’t see as Simon watches with wide eyes.

There’s no fanfare, Jace doesn’t do a spin to show them off and has no snarky comment. He simply stands, his biggest secret on full display, feeling more exposed than he ever has before.

Simon continues to stare as Jace bites down on his lower lip. He knew this was a bad idea.

“Wow,” Simon finally breathes out. “That’s… they’re... wow.”

“They’re something alright,” Jace agrees, and allows himself a shaky, self-conscious laugh.

“They’re beautiful.”

Simon takes a step or two closer and Jace can feel his brain working overtime to process what Simon just said. Simon isn’t leaving. He isn’t even shocked into place. He’s coming closer. He’s smiling.

He likes them.

“They’re ridiculous,” Jace mumbles finally, still not making eye contact with Simon.

“They’re spectacular,” Simon corrects. “Can I-?” Simon starts to extend a hand slowly out towards Jace’s left wing and he’s helpless to do anything other than nod.

Simon moves carefully, each motion deliberate until his hand grazes the golden plumage. His touch is soft, first just brushing across the tops of them before growing a bit bolder and combing his fingers through the feathers. Jace gasps, feathers shaking from the involuntary shudder Simon’s touch causes, and Simon pulls his hand back quickly.

“Fuck, sorry, I hurt you?” Simon asks, concerned.

“No,” Jace says quickly, shaking his head. “No, it’s just - I haven’t had them out in a while. It feels good, I promise.” And it feels extra good because it’s Simon touching them. Sure, when Alec or Izzy would comb through his feathers it felt nice, like someone running fingers through your hair, but this was different. This was something more.

Simon looks hesitant but nods and moves close again, crowding into Jace’s space to run his fingers through the feathers again before making his way around to Jace’s back. Jace feels the gentle touch of fingertips at the spots on his back where the wings emerge from. He knows exactly what Simon’s looking at from numerous hours spent staring in contempt at them in the bathroom mirror - red, inflamed skin, freshly torn open in a clean line, something that looks like it should be bleeding but isn’t. Simon’s fingers vanish, and a second later his lips take their place, leaving a trail of quick, tender kisses up the length of the laceration.

Jace doesn’t try to stop the tears that spring to his eyes, he knows he couldn’t even if he wanted to.

Simon circles back around to face him again. “Thank you for showing me.”

Jace nods, not trusting himself to speak.

Thankfully he doesn’t have to. Simon’s phone rings and he takes it out of his pocket to silence it but stops when he sees his sister’s name on the screen. Even still, he looks up at Jace questioningly.

“Answer your sister,” Jace encourages while clearing his throat, taking the minute or two Simon spends on the phone to collect himself again. When Simon hangs up his eyes are back on Jace immediately.

“So, this is terrible timing since she’s going to be here in, like, 5 minutes. But I want to talk more about this later if you’re up for it,” Simon tells him.

“I- yeah, I’d like that,” Jace admits. He’s wanted to talk to Simon about this for ages, honestly.

“I mean, I could make her wait for me at Taki’s or something if you wanted to talk now-”

“Simon, it’s fine. We can talk tomorrow. Tonight is all about Rebecca.” Normally this isn’t the sort of thing Jace would ever imagine himself leaving unresolved, but Simon doesn’t look like he’s about to turn and run overnight. In fact, Jace is convinced that if this hasn’t scared him away there might not be anything that will, and that’s a thought that both excites and terrifies him. He’s always relied on his ability to push people away when he needed to, there’s always been some stop he could pull to make people leave when he felt overwhelmed, or when things got too serious.

But with Simon? Jace is finally starting to realize that Simon might just be here to stay. Maybe nothing can scare him away, but Jace realizes with a sudden certainty that he doesn’t want to push Simon away.

“I don’t suppose you want to take them out for a Halloween test-run?” Simon offers, but Jace is already folding the wings back into place, tight and hidden and secret again.

“Maybe next year,” Jace compromises. Showing Simon is one thing - showing the entire world, well, that’s a step he isn’t ready for just yet, even if they’d all think it’s just some elaborate costume.

“Good,” Simon says, surprising Jace. “Because I kind of like the idea of me being the only one who gets to see them.” Simon closes the space between them, careful to place his hands by the base of Jace’s spine on his back as he wraps his arms around him and pulls him in for a kiss.

“Still up for coming out?” Simon asks when they finally pull away.

Jace knows he can say no and Simon would be totally fine with it. He can distance himself and overthink and self-sabotage everything that just happened in true Jonathan Herondale fashion…. but he doesn’t even consider it.

Because for the first time he can remember Jace doesn’t feel like he needs an escape plan.

“Absolutely,” Jace agrees without any hesitation. “Let’s go.”

[fanficsforpogchamps]

The SDC bois with a reader who tries to bite at them whenever they get too close for their comfort, not caring if the have a so called 'stand'

Headcanon! Touchy-Feely

Warnings: None except a few naughty words 👀 enjoy!

My Jotakak fanfic is coming soon, but keep the requests coming lovely! I’d enjoy writing your scenarios and Headcanons for every good boi out there!

(I hope this is okay! I’ve done both emotionally and physically, like actually physically biting them lmao. It was fun, so Thank you for the first request :)) )

Jotaro Kujo-

;This man is not exactly emotion material, he doesn’t understand them at the best of times, so when he sees you being recluse and lugging behind the group, he shrugs and carries on his merry way.

; he learnt from his old man that you were their translater, but had acquired no stand- and so when you first snap at him using your teeth when he brushed against your arm in a crowded market Star Platinum shot out immediately, expecting a fight. But when no Stand appeared, the larger, more colourful Jotaro was ever so confused.

; your teeth were firmly locked into his fingers as they had been wiping some sweat from your forehead. The beads were trickling down and it bothered the hell out of him, and it was only when you let go did he see that you made a sizeable mark on his middle and fore finger.

; “you annoying bitch,” Jotaro had growled, itching at the marks left by your teeth, and you slinked away back to Avdols shadow where you resided for the rest of the trip... until they tried to get you to stay behind when they found DIOs mansion.

; “you don’t have the powers we do, you need to stay behind and live, if not for us,” Avdol tried reasoning, but your stubbornness is why earned you your title as a Stardust Crusader. But when the man, the myth, the legend, Jotaro Kujo has started to approach you, there was an internal battle. Even after a few feet he was already waaaay beyond your comfort zone. “Do as they say, and just stay behind. DIO will most likely kill you if you go in without our powers,”

; die? You will? You had bared your teeth at him before spitting out a harsh “fine,” and turned away from the group. “I know I don’t have a Stand... whatever they are. But you all better come back to me alive,”

Kakyoin Noriaki-

; Kakyoin was a very naturally comfortable person to be around, I mean hell, even Jotaro was happy when he had returned from hospital (but that’s further on-)

So when your teeth managed to snag at Kakyoins expensive school jacket on the Strength boat, he was a little more than surprised to say the least.

; he physically recoiled, before shaking his head and gently prying off your teeth. “Now now (Y/N),” he chuckled nervously, before managing to get the fabric from your teeth without damaging it. “No need to act like a dog now do we?”

;you had nearly died in that damned boat and was now out at sea again, having to deal with the infuriating closeness of everyone- but it seemed there was already a gap between both your sides as they all favoured to huddle further up the raft.

; “we don’t want your teeth in our clothes! I paid a lot for these!” Joseph cried out accusingly, finger shoved in your face to signify that there was distrust with you. That... hurt. Despite your emotional turmoil previously with them it still hurt when the man jabbed a finger your way. “Shut the fuck up old man before I shove your head under the water,” you snapped, arms crossed over your chest.

; That seemed to have shut Joseph up, as he cowered away, before Kakyoin started laughing. That was amazing! He knew there was something special about you. “Ahhh don’t mind him (Y/N), he gets paranoid,” Noriaki tired to inform you, managing to brighten up the mood from the older Joestar bringing it down a notch. “He needs to watch where he’s pointing that finger, or he will have to add another mechanical limb to the list,”

; it made Kakyoin smile, seeing as you full well meant every word you spoke and clearly Joseph was using your temper against you. Kakyoin shifted in his seat before sliding across to sit closer to you, and nudging your shoulder with his own.

; too close too close too close- is all you thought of as The red headed Japanese school student slid closer and closer to you. Despite the size of the raft you had been comfortable with no one being near you, but now that he was closer you felt your heart stop.

;”Don’t take no offence. He’ll learn his lesson soon enough,”

Jean-Pierre Polnareff-

;when you had stepped off the plane with Iggy, the man thought you was the most gorgeous thing in the world, so when his flirtatious advances caused him to nearly jump out of the desert buggy- he was shocked.

; The Frenchman swore out in french, gesturing vividly for dear life as he had come to realise maybe.. maybe you weren’t as nice as you were portrayed to be? Maybe he should stay away?

; Blast it all to hell! Polnareff thought as he continued to fling flirty-esq comments your way. The travel was hot, and on you lap was Iggy- the animal which had processed to rip out a lot of his silver locks which were gorgeously prepared this morning. He scowled, before turning up his nose and giving up for a while.

; if it hadn’t been for you baring your teeth and snapping the words “dirty bastard” at him, he wouldn’t have stopped the flirting behaviour, but something about the way you flared up at him made him believe you were a full blown Stand user. Because god knows that only stand users would be that aggressive.

;but when he found out you was just another normal person; unable to grasp the thoughts or view his glorious Silver Chariot his heart sunk. So you was just another heartless tease then. He nearly cried at the idea of someone as beautiful as you being a dastardly tease, set to destroy him.

;The buggy had been overturned, and Polnareff was clutching Kakyoins body. You had reluctantly hopped on top of the car as well, your body pressed against Jeans because of N’Doul. You could see the mental struggle in his eyes. He didn’t want to get too close to you- yet he needed to keep Kakyoin safe. So you opted to helping him, fingers wrapping around the uniform of your cherry loving friend and dragging him just a bit higher up the buggy.

;”I may not have a stand to help,” you choked out, struggling slightly. “And I may not be able to see yours- but I’m going to help right now,”

;from then Polnareff could see you was a determined person, and while you possessed no stand it drove you to help more. You would be useless in the eyes of anyone else- but Jean-Pierre Polnareff could see your worth from the moment you thought of helping them.

Joseph Joestar-

;Joseph knew you weren’t a Stand user from the start, as you hadn’t been able to see Purple Hermit when you met him. You were a translator, and as much as Joseph loved visiting Japan- it hurt him when he tried to order in English and no one could understand him, which is why you were with him.

; you used to be such a good kid, so social and friendly- yet when he met you again it was hard to believe you were the same person. You were snappy and seemingly always grumpy, ready to bite someone’s head off if they spoke wrongly. You nearly gave someone a heart attack at a store because they bumped into you, and the look from your eye caused them to sweat profusely.

; When you met Holly however, your sour mood disappeared almost completely and underneath emerged the soft child you once was, a small smile on your face as you chatted with his daughter.

;He knew holly had that affect on people but on you? He was sure it wouldn’t work yet here you were, small Japanese tea cup in your grasp and a soft laughter to your words.

;The only way he knew you was real was when you were alone with him again, and he decided to open his big mouth and ask about why you was so nice to Holly- when your teeth suddenly bit down on his metal hand which had been waved too close to your face.

;his signature ‘OHHH MY GOOOUDDDD!’ Was raised from his voice as he viewed the missing fingers off his metallic hand. “Don’t be so loud asshole, Kakyoin is still asleep,” you had snapped, before dropping the fingers in his lap and sighing.

; the one time you showed any sort of love or kindness towards him was... well... the airport. Your entire journey led up to this moment, the three people you stood besides were sobbing, and there was a small tear that slipped across your cheek- a moment of weakness that Joseph caught as you all recognised the harrowing details of your journey... it was over-

; “I miss their faces,” you admitted to him, one hand over his metal one for some sort of comfort as you both rested in your plane seats. You felt his thumb graze your knuckles as he held your hand close. You knew he had lost Ceaser, Speedwagon, Lisa Lisa, Erina... and now Avdol and Kakyoin. It must be hard, and you felt sympathy for him, yet never disclosed this to him.

; “I know, so do I,”

Muhammad Avdol-

;his first snippet of your uncomfortable boundaries was when he first met you with Joseph Joestar, watching as you managed to snag the coat arm of the elder JoJo as the coat had smacked your nose softly as his arm raised in greetings.

;He knew from then on to avoid you, or just not to get beyond your boundaries. He was not exactly going to bother you if everyone wanted the best trip. He smiled back at you occasionally to allow you the knowledge that he was there and would respect you.

;you had only snapped at him once, but he expected it. His body appeared to move in front of you at a ghostly pace, almost as if arisen from the dead.

; you had weeped over his body, mourned and sobbed despite your harsh exterior. The tears nearly flooded from your eyes at his sudden appearance, but the anger boiled and bubbled over that sadness you felt.

;”So is there just s reason why I was not told?” You inquired, body remaining frozen as your shoes firmly remained placed in the sand of the beach. “Don’t give me the BULLSHIT you told Polnareff,” there was the snap that made Avdol twitch alway. “Let’s get this DIO shit over with so I can formally beat you all,” your teeth bared at them, before you composed the calm exterior you once had and made your way to the submarine.

;Avdol knew you meant well, the shock must have been fully graced if you admitted to pouring the contents of your heart out when his body had just been moved to an infirmary. A small smile crossed his lips as you passed him, head set forward and confidence leaking from your body as if you had a new ideal.

;”I’ll hold you too that (Y/N),” he smiled, hands now slipping into his sleeves as he followed your path with the rest of the Crusaders.

[existing-on-cloral]

Brooklyn’s Night Terrors

Chapter Thirteen: I’m Positive

Steve and his scientist get some less-than-ideal news.

You stared down at the miniscule stick in your hands, clutching your stomach where the nausea was building. The box had said to wait two minutes before checking the test, and the timer had gone off about thirty seconds ago. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to move your hand away from the small screen.

“Just do it,” Pepper Potts advised, crouching down in front of you. “I was so scared when I took my test, but believe me, it’s better to rip off the Band-Aid.”

“Thanks, Pepper,” you said, meeting her eyes. Without looking down, you moved your hand away, then cast your eyes to the stick. “Shit.”

Pepper gasped. “You’re certain?” She took the test from you and stared down at the two little lines. “Well, how are you going to tell him?”

You cursed. “We were so careful, Ms. Potts. How did this happen?”

“The first time.” Banner entered the small bathroom, or tried to. Eventually he just stood outside and made an attempt to not look embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I turned off the lab footage but it caught what happened. No protection was used.”

“Shit,” you said again, taking back the test. “Well, better to rip the Band-Aid off." You shot Pepper a grim smile. Where is he?”

Banner hesitated. “We don’t actually know that."

“What?”

“We don’t know that,” he repeated, showing you a small screen that displayed Steve’s apartment living room. On it, a woman dressed in black crept out of Steve’s bedroom with the super soldier slung over her shoulder. She looked up at the camera, face obscured, and spray-painted the lens over.

“The Reaper,” you said without a second thought. “She’s got him and now there’s no telling what she’ll do.”

Pepper touched your shoulder gently. “Take a few deep breaths. It’s gonna be okay.

The subsequent explosion that knocked you back into Bruce and sent both of you spiraling begged to differ.

When the dust cleared, the wall of the bathroom was completely gone, exposing you to the open air. You coughed, waving your hand in front of your face to clear the dust from your throat. Pepper staggered to her feet and rushed to help you up. Her forehead was bleeding, but she wiped the blood out of her eyes and stepped in front of you, shielding you from the blast zone. Or rather, what had caused the blast zone.

Iron Man hovered a few inches away from where the wall had been, hand out, blaster at the ready- and Steve dangling by his shirt from his other hand. “Stand down,” he ordered, voice cold and dangerous.

Pepper took a step forward, eyes softening. “Tony?”

A blast shot from Tony’s hand and knocked Pepper back into the wall. You heard a sickening crunch and saw her go still. “Pepper!” you screamed, running to her side and checking her pulse with a trembling hand. There! Faint, but it was there.

Tony flew closer and dropped Steve on the floor. The poor man was unconscious, blood coming out of his mouth and nose. “The Reaper sends her regards.” He flew backwards, hung there for a minute, then added, “Play nice with the Captain, she doesn’t like her toys being broken.” Then he turned and flew off, red and gold vanishing into the air.

Steve’s eyes flew open and he turned onto his side, coughing up blood. You hurried from Pepper to him, barking an order to Bruce. “Get her to the infirmary, now. I’ll deal with Steve until you can get back.”

Bruce sighed, got to his feet, and picked up Pepper. Her body looked so tiny and helpless. It reminded you of Tony’s young daughter. How the hell were you supposed to tell Morgan what was going on? She’d think her dad was back, and he’d blast her, just like he blasted Pepper.

Concentrating on the situation at hand, you let Steve cough out blood until he could sit up. “I can feel it working,” he said, referring to the serum. “I can feel myself healing. God, I will never get used to that.”

You stroked his face, cupping his cheeks in your hands and kissing his bloody mouth. He tasted like iron and bitterness, but you didn’t care. You were happy he was alive. “Steve, what happened?”

Steve winced. “She... She kidnapped me, and I think she got me with the drug again. But I don’t remember it very well. This time, though...” He paused to cough blood right in your face, and you winced. “You weren’t there... To help me through it... So, she did it herself.” He swallowed. “I had sex with her. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault, baby,” you said, forgiving him instantly. Mentally, you made a note to tell Bucky that he had a new reason to track down the Reaper as fast as possible. You wanted to hurt her for doing this to Steve.

“Before... Before she left me...” He clutched his side, grimacing. “She told me, ‘That should do it’, and then when she came back in a few hours later, she told me that she...” Steve hung his head, tears collecting in his eyes. “That she was pregnant.”

You swallowed nervously. “I’m sorry, Steve,” you said, moving his head to your shoulder and stroking his hair. “But we can still beat her. It’s gonna be okay.”

Steve laughed hollowly. “I’m not ready for kids.” His eyes focused on the sink, where you had left... oh shit... Where you had left the positive pregnancy test. “Is that...”

“Please don’t freak out.”

He did anyway. By the time Banner and the paramedics got him to the infirmary, Steve was in a full-blown panic attack. You watched them take him and Pepper behind the operating room doors, putting Steve in the hospital for the second time in a week.

“He needs to stop getting into fights.” Bucky took a seat next to you in the waiting room, folding his hands together and bracing his elbows on his knees. “You should have seen him back in the forties. Never backed down from a challenge, and got beat up because of it.”

“Nice to know he didn’t lose that.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “So. You’ve got a little bun cooking up in the oven, huh?”

You nodded, Steve’s words coming back to you. I’m not ready for kids. “Steve doesn’t want kids.”

“Well, it is pretty early in the relationship.” Bucky leaned over and whispered, “If that dumbass leaves you over this, I’ll punch him in the gut, turn him into an old man again, and help you raise the kid myself.”

“If I keep it,” you pointed out. “I just found out. I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet.”

Bucky sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I know. I’m offering, though.” He looked to the doors they’d taken Steve through. “He won’t leave you; I know that at least.”

You lifted your head and stared at him. “Really? Why?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Because he loves you. He’s been pining after you since day one. I think he only went after Carter to get your attention, though I think he does have something for women of the Carter family tree.”

You giggled. “Ha, I guess.” Glancing back at the door, you added, “But he also got... well... raped by her. The Reaper. And now she’s pregnant.”

“Don’t know what her tactic is, but I’m not afraid to hit a pregnant woman.” Bucky laughed, pressing a hand to his stomach. “She might be a little more incapacitated.”

“Or even more dangerous. She’s gathering an army of foot soldiers, it looks like, and she’s just added Tony to her ranks.” You squeezed your hands into fists, glaring at the wall. “I don’t know why she hasn’t gone after you yet.”

“I do.”

Peter hobbled out of the infirmary with his arm bound tightly in a sling. “Mr. Rogers told me. He says that she’s going to try to kill Bucky in order to obtain some semblance of order or something like that.” He sat next to you, staring at his hands. “I miss the days where it was calm and we didn’t have to worry about things like this.”

Bucky chuckled. “Bold of you to assume that I wasn’t always dealing with things like this, especially with Steve.”

“Did you just do a meme?” Peter asked, eyes flicking to Bucky in shock.

“You know what, kid, I think I did.” Bucky reached around you to give Peter a pat on his good shoulder. You did the same, adding a warm smile.

“We’re gonna get Pietro back, Pete. I promise.”

Peter threw his good arm around you in a loose hug. “Thank you.” He pulled down the neckline of his hospital gown to reveal his suit underneath. “When do we start?”

“Right now.” Wanda joined your little party, outfitted for battle in her favorite jacket. “I don’t know about you, Bucky, but I would like my brother back.”

Bucky nodded. “Affirmative. If it means that much to you two, I’ll help.” He stood and offered a hand to Wanda. She shook it, a smile creeping across her face.

You stood and headed for the infirmary. “Let me know how it goes, alright? I’m gonna check on Steve.”

Peter stood and patted you on the shoulder. “I’ll be in my room if you wanna play Mario Kart or Super Smash Bros.”

“Can I be Mario either way?” you asked, a mischievous smile playing at your lips.

“Hell yeah,” Peter said, raising his hand for a high five, which you gladly gave him. “See you in a bit.”

You pushed through the doors and were immediately swarmed by doctors, escorting you in one specific direction. “Let’s have you be with Captain Rogers, okay?” one said in a tone far too sweet for your liking.

Steve was lying down, but he was awake and alert. He sat up almost immediately and hugged you. “Everything was fine, they just had to make sure the serum worked well. I can go out on missions sooner than the bullet allowed for.”

“You’ve gotta stop getting yourself hurt,” you chided, scooting to be a bit more comfortable on the bed. “And you have to debrief me. Right now. I want answers.”

Steve hesitated. “I don’t know a lot...”

“Anything.” You locked eyes with him and pressed on. “We need all the details we can get.”

Finally, Steve began to speak quickly. “She added Loki to her ranks, and he’s been keeping everyone calm and obedient with spells. If we can knock him out, maybe we’ve got a chance. And I know she got Tony, because he knocked me out and, I assume he brought me here?”

“Speaking of Tony,” Banner interrupted, tapping on the door with one finger to announce his presence, “We’ve got a problem.”

“There’s gonna be another Civil War?” you joked.

Bruce shook his head, casting his eyes down and biting his lip. “No, that’s not it. Ms. Potts is dead.”

The smile dropped off your face and you grabbed Steve’s hand. “Pepper? No, that... It can’t be. I felt her pulse.”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce shouldered his way into the room. “She’s gone. You probably felt her heart trying to keep her alive and failing. The hit broke her neck on impact.”

Steve squeezed your hand. “What’s that... Where’s...” He ground his teeth together in frustration. “Tony would never hurt his wife intentionally.”

Bruce pulled out a datapad.“We believe the Reaper is targeting everyone she’d like to appear in her army. If they’re still alive, then they gotta go. Like Bucky, for instance.”

You remembered Bucky’s promise to Wanda and jumped to your feet. “We gotta stop him! Bucky’s going to go after Pietro with Wanda.”

Steve struggled to his feet behind you, giving you a rather clear view of his chest and stomach. You shook your head, banishing away the thoughts. Pepper was dead for crying out loud.

“You both need to sit down and talk. The doctors and I have... business we have to get to.” Banner reluctantly left, closing the door behind him.

You flopped down onto the bed, realizing that your breaths were coming far too quickly. “Steve... Air bag... For...”

“Panic attacks?” Steve dug in the bedside drawer until he came up with a paper sack. “Here.” He held it to your lips and helped you to breathe slowly and deeply. “I’m so sorry about everything that happened.”

“Pepper didn’t deserve to die,” you whimpered, feeling tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Now that your fingers were no longer tingling, you could focus on something other than breathing, and you chose to cry into Steve’s shoulder.

He stroked your back as the day’s events came crashing down around you two. “We are going to be okay. All three of us.”

You were about to say something about Bucky, but then you got his real meaning and your hand fluttered to your stomach. Through the tears, you could see Steve’s hand join yours. “I love you,” he whispered.

[mysticalmindblog]

A candid look at one of the most common sources of heartbreak and sadness readily available to each and every human being. The Internet is awash with memes and quotes mixing Positive Affirmation with Expectation. The reality is that when you are prone to expecting something, you are opening doors inviting disappointment and suffering to visit.

THEME: Until you can accept what is, you will never move into what could be.

Look back on your life, and count the many times you feel you have been let down, deflated, disenfranchised, because expectations and promised results didn't come to fruition. How much suffering have you gone through in your life because you mentally and emotionally invested far too much in expectations that proved unrealistic..??

There is a glut of memes and quotes all over Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and many other online sources that are very generic and 'feel good' but with no substance.

Examples are:

You Deserve It, So Expect It

Expect and You Will Receive

You're a Winner, Expect Great Things

It's Good to Know What to Expect

You Are Unique So Expect Unique Things

etc. etc. etc.

Some of these quotes have tens of thousands of likes. The problem is that they are so general and generic that the presupposition is applying to ego, rather than the truth. It is part of the 'INSTANT' gratification "Feel-Good" motivational movement that is nothing more than a mental band-aid rather than an enlightening revelation.

There's also a fine line between expectations & dependency. There is another fine line between expectations & an entitlement mentality. Inevitably, to be in expectation of something opens up the doors of possibility to disappointment & suffering. It is far preferable to work with Mindful intention instead, in the present moment you are in, to project desired results.

Expectations

Having expectations being thwarted leads to very deep sadness and longings... They can just rip out all of your cultivation and capacity for being able to give kindness and compassion to others and can make your soul stale.

They can make a warm heart turn ice cold.

They can cause mental anguish and intense frustration.

Expectations, for the most part, are made up of the imagined desired results for a future moment in time. They represent a large percentage of thoughts that are dedicated to the variables of the future. Expectations represent a diversion from present mindfulness, away from the moment you are in into the unknown moments of the future.

Truthfully, we all suffer from vulnerabilities intertwined with emotional dependency on expectations projected, like architectural blueprints, on those around us. Disappointment after disappointment wears down our patience, as well as our ability to trust and give unconditionally.

On the extreme far end of the mental spectrum, many people who walk around in a constant state of anxiousness due to 'Expectation', also exhibit egocentric and entitled behavioral patterns.

It's a trap.

Over-indulgent and pampered personalities tend to lead lives where they expect, and expect, and expect (the best, the more, the most), and often with emphasis on being entertained and distracted by nonsense more-so than anyone else around them, or the VIP treatment; is another way to put it.

Disassociate

It is for me an ongoing quest, to disassociate from emotionally attaching to high hopes and expectations in regards to the attitude, words, and actions of others.

From family, to friends, to acquaintances and strangers, in a variety of settings, they will invariably surprise you in a negative way at some point or other; it is inevitable. Often this is because we invest far too much expectation upon them. In some ways, our expectations can become so unrealistic, that they depend on the person in question making personality changes that are not even made clear.

I talk often of the Noisy Mind condition; where we go from moment to moment not actually living in the moment, but living either in the past, or the future, or even worse: Both simultaneously - all without actually living mindfully in the present moment.

The inherent problem with setting expectations in regards to all those you have come to know is that we always seem to set the bar too high. It helps me to look inside myself at my own failings, and the ways I could improve myself - before looking to others for inspiration. Additionally, as I mentioned earlier, setting expectations makes us deviate away from present-moment mindfulness.

Here are some plain truths:

We have NO control over anyone but OURSELVES.

We have NO ability to see the FUTURE.

We have NO ability to change the PAST.

We live in NO other moment but the moment we are IN.

We have NO better immunity against emotional pain than ACCEPTANCE.

We have NO better immunity against anger than COMPASSION.

The ONLY one who can truly know you is YOU.

The ONLY one who can use the key that unlocks your heart is YOU.

The ONLY one who can make you change who you are is YOU.

So basically this article comes down to some harsh and unpleasant facts; such as dealing with the negative aspects of people that WILL invariably either go out of their way to hurt you, or alternatively hurt you in their ignorance. As such, you measure the depth of your sufferings and pain based on your expectations.

Expectation is a strong form of attachment making. It is that which will sink deep hooks into your most sensitive nerves, and will ever-so-often bring tremendous suffering.

Now it is important to point out here that I am not saying that as far as I am concerned, it is best to go around looking at everyone through cringing and skeptical eyes, treating them all as potential antagonists - definitely not. Alternatively, what I am saying is what I actually try to practice daily, treat others as you wish to be treated, but don't attach to the expectation that they will reciprocate. It is as simple a recipe as that.

The Alternative

The 2nd Noble Truth of Buddhism teaches that 'Suffering' is due to attachments and expectations, to grasping and clinging. This truth is a secular truth whatever your belief system.

So how do we liberate ourselves..??

You can literally transform your life by learning your own personal art of "Letting Go.."

It is a matter-of-fact that by cultivating and changing your mental thought processes, you can relieve emotional discomforts and pain, and chief among those changes are the way you accept & embrace change.

Realizing how we instinctively react when provoked by broken expectations and unexpected change, and then modifying the way we react can help us break out of the need to be micro-managing every little detail of an uncertain future, and individuals in our lives who we have no power to change or control, and instead, we can simply embrace with acceptance of the present moment we are in.

It's only possible in the present moment that we will find the courage to cross the threshold of the unknown and relax into the changes we cannot avoid.

The Attachment of a Sense of Predictability

It is a Human condition, we feel that much more secure when we are assured that we possess a sense of predictability, and in that effort we invariably develop a great capacity for denying a very basic & simple truth which is 'that nothing stays the same'.

Such a denial can invoke an inner arrogance, an egoic but illusionary 'reality' construct; and then along comes the unpredictability of life, and through loved ones, friends, or life changing situations, we are painfully shown that even if we do everything "right" and exercise every precaution, we can still face extreme disappointment and unexpected loss.

As such, all too frequently, rather than surrender to the inevitability of change, and embrace it, and work creatively with it, we Humans resort to the anxiety & fear-based behavior of forcing situations to occur the way we want them to, and to take charge and exert pressure on other people and situations to conform to our expectations. Again, this is a terrible trap.

Your inability to avoid disappointment, broken expectations, and deflated dreams as well as accepting change may make you wrathfully angry, sad, depressed, and frustrated. It can be hard to let go of the false belief that the only way to achieve happiness again is to regain what's been lost. Even when you know you can't reverse the situation, you may enter into a perpetual suffering, and constantly agonize over this unwanted reality, knowing no inner peace as a result.

When faced with disappointment and broken expectations, we can mistakenly cling on to what once was, actively avoiding the needed process of grief and acceptance, and end up in a constant state of non-growth and life paralysis; grasping for a future set of circumstances or a situation identical to the past holding you back from discovering what better roads lie ahead, just around the corner, simply just outside of your vision. The desire to backslide, or reconstruct the known comforts of the past will almost always result in you walking around in circles, lost in the ashes of the unchangeable past, instead of venturing forth with mindfulness and actively taking steps to look around those corners and see new ways to grow, new paths to follow.

Change your Perspective

The change in perspective that invariably happens when we come to the enlightening conclusion that there's no such thing as a permanent comfort zone, or feeling of happiness, will allow us to embark on a voyage of healing from suffering. It leads to a rise in wisdom, a new understanding, and helps us take the next brave step which is to accept that we must often be broken to mould ourselves anew, and broaden our reality giving a new definition of what we need in order to be productive, happy, and liberated - giving up the old and painful habits of clinging and grasping, as well as the need to control external circumstances and future events.

It's important to balance the concept of something you want, with an acceptance of what is, right in the moment you are in. It is no good wanting something for what you want it to be, rather than wanting it for what it is now in the present. You MUST know your limits.

This subtle balance which is a mindset to adopt, allows you to live in this, the present moment and trust that your acceptance of a given situation or individual or concept, will relieve the suffering and confusion that comes when not things do not go the way you 'expect' them.

In other words, having expectations is an inevitable Human condition, but it is down to your Mindful clear thinking on how much you invest in those expectations, and how realistic they are, cognitively understanding that everything is impermanent, even expectations, that will clear the brain-fog of confusion, unnecessary emotional attachments, and distractions, and show you the path to move into a more clear and unrestricted, happier, way of life.

When we cling to the past or what no longer serves us, we contract ourselves to the point where we're unable to be nourished and invigorated by the present moment. We have to accept that what's past has truly passed in order to open up to what the present moment offers us. In this opening we become nourished, refreshed and revitalized.

Finally, it takes us making an effort, and acknowledging not only our own flaws and damaging personality traits, but also for the most part, understanding that the general population ultimately only care for themselves and their own comfort zones and closed circles, and will extract what they can for their own pleasures and comforts from whoever can supply it the soonest. That's the modern sociologically imprinted "I want it and deserve it and I want it now" illusionary construct. It is damaging to everyone, and leads to awful entitlement issues.

We can CHOOSE not to be that way. That's part of the old 'primitive' brain that is programmed with a genetic self-preservation instinct and gets combined with the ego to the point that so many end up with toxic personalities.

If we see it, recognize it, choose not to be a part of it, and instead take care of all that we have power over (ourselves), then we can be liberated from the suffering it can cause.

Knowing this, it is up to us as the responsible entities to go within and make the changes necessary to better deal with those occurrences, and live more in the present moment while annihilating our expectations of things we have absolutely no control over.

[txladyj-blog]

Chapter 11 - This Time Around

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Srong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 19/?

Patience is a virtue. Or so Aaron thought after he’d followed Jess’s directions and located the distrustful and on edge group. He’d been warned of their reluctance to let anyone near them, but he hadn’t anticipated the level of fear he would witness. He sympathized, empathized even. He knew what it was like to be terrified on the outside of the walls. His job as a recruiter took him all over the place and as a result, he was unfortunate enough to have seen more than one horrific sight in his time. It took a lot of understanding and reasoning to get through to Rick, who by that point was just about done with allowing his group to endure any more near-death experiences. Some of the group were willing to take the chance, to see if what Aaron was promising really was real and Rick eventually agreed to it, mainly because he was rapidly becoming outnumbered.

He’d located them in a Barn, sheltering from the rain. Their numbers were greater than he thought and he was surprised to see a baby with them. A precious, vulnerable detail that Jess had left out. Alexandria hadn’t seen a baby in a very long time and Aaron was pleased at the prospect of being able to bring such a tender, young life inside the walls and keep it safe from the world outside. Their journey back to the safe zone wasn’t without its issues. Walkers here, there and everywhere and a tetchy ex sheriff eyeballing him the whole way got tiresome rather rapidly. But he was determined to get them back to Alexandria and when he finally did, dusk was upon them.

Deanna was the town’s leader. An ex-congresswoman who was highly intelligent and intuitive when it came to people’s subtle strengths and weaknesses, those they tried and failed to hide from her observant eyes. She was fair, calm and had a lot of trust placed in Aaron’s abilities to tell a good person from a bad one. Multiple times, he’d proven her right, only this time he couldn’t take the credit.

As the gates rolled open, Jess was leaning against the side of Aaron’s house. She moved back into the shadows as she silently willed Rick to lead his group inside. But no one moved for what felt like an eternity. Deanna breezed out of her house and down the steps to her front porch with a smile on her face and her hands held out at her sides in a welcoming gesture. Jess couldn’t hear everything from her distance away but she could sense that everyone was uneasy about waltzing into a place they didn’t know, surrounded by high walls and a heavy gate with seemingly no escape.

She crossed her arms and waited, she wasn’t going anywhere until she was sure everyone was safely inside the gate and being given somewhere to sleep. Her wish came true when Rick stepped over the threshold and shook Deanna’s hand, although his eyes were everywhere but on her. He glared at the people on the sides of the street looking on, at the walls, at the houses and the faces in them. Her own eyes were on the tiny child strapped to his body. A baby girl. How could she not have noticed this before? Where did she even come from?

She could tell Rick had already noticed the lack of weapons on the townsfolk and wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he visibly recoiled when asked to surrender his gun. He wasn’t the only one. The big, ginger military looking guy with the mustache didn’t appear impressed at the idea, neither did Daryl. After some discussion between them and Aaron aiding Deanna in explaining why there would be no need to keep guns on them and that they could access them in the armory when they leave the safe zone, everyone slowly began to surge forwards, surrendering their weapons and placing them all on a metal cart, brought to the gate by Olivia, overseer of the food rations, armory and Alexandria’s answer to an excel spreadsheet.

Deanna urged them all to follow her so she could take them to their houses and Jess felt a small sense of pride in herself. Now, she didn’t have to fret about Daryl being killed. She wasn’t even sure why she still cared, but she couldn’t just switch it off. With no desire to change anything about her life, she intended to keep them arm’s length and never reveal her identity if she could help it. It wasn’t such a difficult task with the Alexandrians, they simply accepted her as she wanted to be. But Rick’s group had known her from another time. Daryl knew her. If she stuck to her own rules; no ties or connections to anyone, she wouldn’t have to change a thing. Or so she hoped.

She saw Aaron wandering over to her between wanting to watch the newcomers enter their houses and wanting to crawl through his own front door and collapse in bed after being out on the road for two days searching for them. Jess nudged her head up in acknowledgement.

“Well, you were right, it took a lot of convincing to get them here. They seem like a good bunch of people though.” He declared as he stopped in front of her.

“They are.” She replied in a whisper.

“Why didn’t you tell me they had a baby with them?” He questioned. His tone wasn’t accusatory, more surprised and Jess had to admit she was shocked at how she missed the newest member of the group. They had certainly done a great job of keeping her hidden.

“Because I didn’t know.” She told him with the shrug of one shoulder.

“We haven’t seen a baby in a long time. This is very exciting.”

Jess looked down at her gloved hands, the leather was fraying around the edges of her fingerless gloves. She plucked at the loose strands and nibbled on her lower lip behind her mask. Aaron sighed contentedly and crossed his arms.

“Thank you, Aaron.” She mumbled quietly.

She felt him suddenly turn to face her in surprise. It was unusual that she spoke much at all to anyone, let alone show such sincerity. Her sentences to the occupants of Alexandria were kept short and to the point, chit chat was no longer a part of her repertoire, it wasted time and formed connections she didn’t want the burden of. But she owed Aaron for the comfortable life she lived and the discretion with which she was allowed to live it.   

“What for?” he asked.

“For bringing them here.” She replied, motioning to the vanishing group with one hand, her vision still trained down on her gloves. “And for not mentioning me.”

“You’re distinctive. They’re going to see you at some point.” He informed her. Far be it for him to patronize her, he did feel the need to point out that as such a mysterious figure that everyone seemed to know of but no one actually knew, she would soon become the talk of the new group and with that, would undoubtedly come questions.  

“Maybe they will. But if it happens, it’ll be when it suits me.” She affirmed confidently, now glancing up at him.

“You have a history with them?” He asked carefully, aware he was treading on thin ice by probing into her train of thought.

“I was with them at the start. Left of my own accord.” Her eyes gradually worked back down, gazing at nothing in particular as she remembered the days at the quarry with a heavy heart and a sting of humiliation.

“Why am I not surprised?” Aaron smiled. “They’re going to figure out who you are one day.”

She returned her gaze to him, raising an eyebrow in amusement. But it was hard for him to read her due to only being able to see her eyes.

“I’ve lived here for weeks now; I sleep in your spare room and use your shower and you still don’t know what I really look like because you’ve never seen my face.” She pointed out with a certain degree of self-righteousness. It was true, she’d come and go as she pleased, always remembering her manners and ensuring to be a good house guest. But the mask never came off in the vicinity of other people. To show her face was to show a part of who she was and that was something she didn’t want anyone else to see ever again. If she ever ate at the house Aaron shared with his partner, Eric, she’d retreat to the spare room and thank them for their kindness upon returning her plate to the kitchen.

“You make a good point.” Aaron admitted with a nod.

“I know.”

He studied her eyes, their sudden twinkle and brightness that he’d rarely seen before except for when he’d attempted to tease her for something or Eric had tried to get her to discard her disguise by offering her tea, coffee and hard liquor for the millionth time. There was no way that the hospitality and genuine good souls of Aaron and Eric were not going to bring a smile to her face.

“I may not be able to see your face behind that mask but I’m pretty sure you’re smiling right now.” Aaron guessed.

“That’s correct.” She confirmed.

“I bet you’re really pretty too.” He grinned, nudging her elbow with his own.

“I’m not your type.” She commented as if she wasn’t beaming behind the black fabric and plastic that obscured her true identity.

“Headstrong and mildly irritating? I’d say you are.” Aaron laughed.

“I meant female.” She shot back with a wink. She raised her arm, offering her hand. “Seriously, thank you.”

 - - - - - 

 That night, the new group found security and some semblance of safety together. They all occupied a corner of the living room in the one house despite being divided up and offered two separate houses by Deanna. The inability to trust anyone so readily was still raw, especially for Rick, who was not about to put his baby daughter and teenage son into a potentially dangerous situation. Others appeared to be willing to give the place and its people a chance, stating that it was worth a try for the safety of the walls, the most secure they’d been in a long time.

Daryl wasn’t sure. On the one hand, his loyalty to Rick dictated that he was likely to agree with him and while he did, it was only to a certain extent. To him, Carl and baby Judith deserved a roof over their heads and if Alexandria provided that, then the least they could do was try while still being on their guard. As was true of most of his life, Daryl also knew he didn’t fit in there and he found it difficult not to revert back to the hostile, angry redneck he was at the quarry. He was changing, he knew that much, but to him it was merely a matter of adapting and that was something he was wired to do regardless. The one thing he could not get his head around was the dark, imposing figure of the girl with the machete and bow who stopped him from being attacked by a dog. 

 It was dark and most of the group were sleeping. Rick perched on the window ledge, watching over Judith as she slept in the first real crib that she’d had that wasn’t fashioned from crates of wood. Daryl remembered making her first one at the prison. A short supply run turned into a day long outing when Walkers made retrieving some wooden pallets from a parking lot all the more difficult with their heaving masses and determination to get at him when he climbed onto the roof of a military truck. But with a little patience and quick thinking, he got out of there in one piece and returned to the prison before dusk. It took over two hours to make the crib and the look on Carol’s face when he’d presented her with it made it all worthwhile. The death of Lori, Judith and Carl’s mother had sent Rick almost to the brink of insanity and while he was absent, talking to himself in the woods and disappearing for hours on end, Daryl was the one to step up and make sure that Judith had everything she needed while Carol and some of the others shared babysitting duties. He didn’t know he had it in him, but her tiny hands grasping his fingers and her big eyes peering back at him as he fed her formula that he’d almost died trying to scavenge changed something in him. He could actually get used to being ‘Uncle Daryl.’

He climbed up from his spot on the floor and headed outside. Those that were still awake didn’t acknowledge his movement and simply went back to staring into space or silently hoping that this would be it; that they wouldn’t have to move anymore. Daryl stepped outside, quietly closing the door behind him and pulled out his pack of smokes. He sparked up, inhaling deeply and waiting for the nicotine to seep into his bloodstream. Settling on the front steps, he reveled in the quiet.

 Jess left Aaron and Eric’s place late that night after being given the third degree over how she knew the new group. She gave nothing away, merely telling them she used to know them once upon a time, swearing them to secrecy anyway and making her excuses to leave. The night was still and quiet with distant snarls rolling over the walls, the dim lights from the houses she passed lit her way with the light of the moon, which cast a glittering glow on the tarmac of the road. She adjusted the straps on her gloves as she took to the middle of the street, following the white line in the middle to the gate.

“Hey… you.” Came a voice from behind her. She halted and slowly turned around. She didn’t need to guess who it was; she knew that gravelly voice anywhere. He rose from the step and took a few steps closer to her, blowing smoke from his nose.

“I know you. From the road with the dogs. You live here?” He wanted to know.

Jess knew how smart Daryl was and that he’d figure out her real identity if she offered too much conversation or spent a great deal of time in close proximity to him. It was for this reason, that her response came as a small shake of her head.

“You tell Aaron ‘bout us?” He continued.

Her lack of reply grated on his nerves and he moved closer, resulting in Jess turning her body away from him to avoid him getting too clear a view of her eyes.  

“Cat got ya tongue?” He growled.

“I told him.” She uttered, pleased that her mask distorted her low-key response enough to render her unrecognizable. Her senses spiked when she heard him close in on her, standing mere inches from her body.

“The boy and the baby, they deserve a roof…” He started. To Jess, it felt like he was rasping right in her ear. Her chest tightened at the sound of his fierce protectiveness and want of a better life for the children in the group. “…but if any of these people try to hurt them, or any of us, we’ll kill ‘em all n’ we’ll take this place. Startin’ with you. You ain't seen our bad side yet.”

Don’t threaten me, Dixon.

Jess gradually turned back to him, narrowing her eyes in the moonlight. Smoke billowed from his lips as he expelled a breath.

“And you haven’t seen mine.” She hissed before whirling around and striding towards the gate. She unhooked her bow from her torso and readied an arrow in preparation for whatever Walkers might be passing at that late hour. Daryl remained where he was with his cigarette balanced between his fingers and his mind full of questions. Who was she? Where did she come from? Why was she so familiar and why did she anger him so much?

 - - - - - 

 The morning brought with it yet more questions for Daryl, who spent most of the night sitting on the porch and working his way through a pack of smokes, all the while staring at the spot in the street where he’d stopped the mysterious woman in the mask and hood who seemed to appear from Nowhere. There was something about her and every time he tried to figure it out, it only maddened him more. His instincts flared when he’d seen her that night, a fierce need to confront her overwhelming him until he found himself threatening her and receiving his own warning thrown back at him without an ounce of fear or distress. She was self-assured, confident in her actions but the mask and whole barrier in front of her identity told him that she hid secrets and maybe those secrets were as dark as his own.

Daryl never needed a lot of sleep; it wasn’t a blessing he’d been gifted in his childhood or teenage years. Yelling, drinking, drugs, violence all ensured that rest was a complete stranger to him and he went about his days with a slight sting in his eyes and a weariness in his bones but now he paid it no mind. It was the end of days, everyone was tired. After a short conversation with Carol on the front porch, he informed her that her new attire, which was typically mousey housewife, made her look ridiculous. She scoffed at him and threatened to hose him down if he didn’t shower, but he felt no need due to the gnawing idea that the whole town and people in it could turn out to be one, gigantic trap anyway. He wasn’t as paranoid as Rick, who had also been awake all night peering out of the front window and trying to figure out why such a community would be so generous and kind. But Daryl still had his reservations, especially at the request to surrender their weapons at the gate. That was another thing about her. The woman with the mask. She was allowed to keep hers.

He perched on the white railing to what would have been the perfect suburban home he would never have had before the turn. His attention was captured by Aaron, who was standing outside Deanna’s house obviously consumed in conversation with Abraham, the ex-military, handlebar mustache sporting warrior. He pulled his weight; Daryl had no qualms with him. But he did hope that he, along with the rest of the group wouldn’t become too trusting too quickly. Then, once again, she appeared.

Jess sauntered through the gate, tossing a string of rabbits at the first person she saw. The woman caught them with a stagger backwards and a rapid blink and stared down at them with surprise. Jess raised a hand, clicked her fingers and pointed to the pantry, to which the woman refrained to protest and obediently scurried off with her marching orders. It was evident to Daryl that the people of Alexandria saw her as some kind of intimidating figure who was not to be trifled with.

He watched from his spot as Aaron beckoned her over to them and formally introduced her to Abraham. Frustratingly, he missed her name as he stood up and moved closer on the porch, leaning against a pillar and peering around the wooden beam. She held out her hand, gaining a strong handshake from Abraham, who must have cracked a joke because Aaron laughed and to his surprise, so did she. Her face may have been obscured but the movement of her shoulders and the glint in her eye were obvious signs of her finding humor in whatever was said. He observed the short conversation before she appeared to excuse herself and made her way past them, hopping up the steps to Deanna’s house and vanishing inside. Abraham also moved off, wandering across the street and Aaron made off in Daryl’s direction. As he passed the house, the temptation became too great and Daryl walked the path to the sidewalk and stopped in front of Aaron, who glanced up with a broad and friendly smile.

“Hey, man. How was your first night?” He questioned.

“Fine.” Daryl grunted quickly “Didn’t tell us they’d be takin’ our guns”

He squinted in the morning sun, watching Aaron’s stubborn smile refusing to disappear at the sound of his disapproval and direct approach. He was not dropping the innocent façade, if it was one and Daryl considered that if they were all lying then they would possibly be the most convincing liars he’d ever encountered.

“You don’t need guns inside the walls. It’s safe here.” Aaron assured him.

“Ain’t nowhere safe no more” Daryl shot back.

Aaron’s face changed to a sympathetic expression which was laced with a thinly veiled hint of frustration. He sighed and shifted he weight to his other foot, glancing about the street and seeing other townsfolk start to go about their business. Some of which displayed similar distrust when they’d arrived. He reminded himself that people come around. Daryl may have been correct, nowhere was safe, but inside the walls they at least had a chance to keep living.

“Look, I understand your suspicions, but I think you’ll find this place is the exception.” He affirmed confidently.

“Hm.” Daryl hummed as he tried to detect any dishonesty in his eyes. If he’d learned anything in his time surviving the apocalypse, it was character judgement and try as he might, he couldn’t seem to pinpoint anything about Aaron that set alarm bells ringing. “Who’s the machete ninja?” he wanted to know.

Aaron had to think for a second about who was being referred to in such a way, when the pieces fell into place and he recalled his promises made the previous night.

“Oh, goes by the name ‘Parker’. She’s kind of elusive.”  He shrugged casually.

“Said she helped save our lives out there" Daryl pointed out.

Aaron had been informed of the series of events that had led to her guiding him to the group of survivors out on the road, starving and dehydrated. He’d promised not to give anything away unless she deemed it necessary and so his responses had to be thoroughly thought out before he opened his mouth and said the wrong thing.

“That doesn’t surprise me. She’s very capable, our best fighter. Dangerous, but still has a heart.”

“You know her well?” Daryl continued, his questions now sparking a slight concern in Aaron who, in that moment, opted to surrender just enough information to placate his interrogator.

“More that most. But she doesn’t do friendships and you’d be wise not to cross her. She has an agreement with Deanna, she helps us out with security, keeps the area around the walls as free of the dead ones as possible and in return we share medical supplies and food.”

Daryl and Aaron both looked over at Deanna’s house when they heard the door open and saw Jess fly down the stairs. She unhooked her bow from across her torso and nocked an arrow as she nodded at the gate guard, who began to heave the heavy structure open in order to let her leave.

“She lives here?” Daryl rasped from beside Aaron, both of them still observing her in the distance. He'd asked the same question directly to her, but wanted to see if the answer was true. 

“Oh, no. She has her own land. Protective over it too. No one is allowed near it. She sometimes stays the night here. Eric and I, we let her stay in our spare room, use our shower, that kind of stuff. Never seen her without the mask and hood though. I have no idea what she actually looks like. A modern-day caped crusader if you like.” He explained with an air of disappointment.

Aaron hoped that one day she would reveal her identity to him but was aware of how slim the chances were. Initially, she fascinated him and he bombarded her with questions until she shut down and refused to speak to him. Stating that he was to either shut up and carry on helping her reinforce the fences around her land or, she would shoot him and silence him the hard way. Taking no chances, he ceased his line of questioning and hadn’t resumed it so forcefully since. In return, she offered snippets of information, but only enough to imply that underneath it all, she had a sense of humor and a personality that he knew he would gel with given time and patience.

“Never seen her face?” Daryl asked.

“Nope.” Aaron shook his head “But she’s smart and she’d hate me saying this but I trust her, she’s a friend to me if she likes it or not.”

It wasn’t much, but Daryl knew it would have to suffice in the meantime. He was still none the wiser, no closer to figuring out why she played on his mind and frustrated him with her incognito, enigmatic and irritating illusion.

 - - - - - 

 The days seemed to go on forever while a heavy cloud of suspicion weighed on the newcomer’s arrival, the community, Deanna and Aaron all understood and made sure to give the group their space and let them find their own way. Aaron was always around to answer questions and Deanna held one to one interviews with everyone to determine which tasks would best suit their skill sets. That was the thing about Alexandria; everyone pitched in and nothing turned up free. There was even talk of a welcome party, although no one had expressed enough of an interest in making themselves vulnerable to the effects of alcohol just yet and so, it was postponed. 

Jess kept to the sidelines, moving through the shadows and avoiding any conversations or questioning. From her distance away and as she arrived and left over the course of the first week, she observed many interesting scenes. Some a lot more interesting than others. A plan was unfolding before her very eyes and she witnessed it with smugness. When Rick, Daryl and Carol all left the gate at different stages one morning, it wasn’t lost on her. She was smart enough to know they were up to something and she knew exactly what it was.

Following Rick through the trees, she kept her steps silent, carefully meandering over fallen branches, avoiding piles of crunchy leaves and keeping enough of a gap between them that she could easily duck out of sight should he turn around and scan his surroundings. Which he did. Multiple times. Rick was a cop and he wasn’t dumb enough to go for a stroll in the woods without being mindful of any potential threats.

A half-collapsed house appeared ahead of them and Jess shook her head inside her hood. Yes, she really did know what he was up to and felt a sting of pity when she thought of how easily she’d figured it out. Rick skirted around a tree and Jess halted in her tracks when she heard voices up ahead. She spun around, pressing her back to a trunk and straining to hear through the rustling of the leaves in the light wind.

“I’m sure they were right here.” Carols voice.

“They were.” Rick said “Keep looking.”

“Maybe a Walker came by and moved ‘em somehow. Lift that up, lemme see underneath.” Daryl instructed.

Jess boldly weaved out from her hiding spot and through the trees to the clearing in front of the house, not bothering to mask the sound of her footsteps any longer. She dragged the heavy backpack from her shoulders and stopped in the tree line. Clearing her throat loudly. All three of them quickly jumped into defensive stances, drawing their knives and seeing her unzipping the backpack. Guns tumbled out onto the grass, clattering against one another and drawing the horrified stares of the three people in front of her.

“Looking for these?” Jess asked.

“You” Daryl scowled “The hell you doin’ with our guns?”

“Next time you try to be deceptive, be smart about it.” She suggested bravely. “I’ve been watching you plan this all week.”

Daryl surged forwards; his jaw locked tight and his eyes ablaze with anger

“Who the hell are you?!” He raged. 

Rick shot an arm out, instantly halting him and easing him back to his previous spot. Carol’s hand flew to her mouth while Jess, who was quite clearly the calm one, merely blinked and shifted her gaze to each of them in turn. She kicked a handgun with her boot, sending it scattering across the dusty, patchy ground.

“You want a gun? Here. Take it.” She instructed through her mask.

Rick’s eyes were flickering from the weapon she’d offered to what was visible of her unconcerned and cool face. If they wanted weapons, she was intent on proving to them that they did not need them. Rick swooped down, snatching up the pistol and checking the ammo.

“It’s loaded. They all are. I took the liberty of checking for you.” She mentioned.

As he stood there with the gun resting in his palm, he sensed Daryl's agitation from beside him. His breathing through his nose was becoming louder and he knew from enduring so many life or death situations with Daryl that when that happened, he was on the verge of making an impulsive decision. But before he could act, Daryl swiped the gun from his hand and pointed it at Jess.

“No!” Carol shouted. “Daryl, Put the gun down.”

Rick slowly raised his hands, opening up his palms in a submissive gesture, his mouth fell open and his eyebrow raised.

“Daryl. You don’t have to do this.”

“You talkin’ ‘bout? Huh?! None of us trust this freak!” he snapped.

Jess’s shell may have been almost impenetrable, but it was not perfect and his comment sent a shot of agony through her heart. She remembered the words he’d said, how she ‘didn’t mean shit’ to him, the devastating things Jodie and Sarah would whisper about her as she passed. Inside, she was still bearing the scars of such treatment, but outside, no one could tell.

“Haven’t we seen enough death, Daryl?” Carol reasoned.

Letting her words sink in, Rick kept quiet, his brow now beading with sweat as he inched closer. Jess felt Daryl’s intense and furious stare as if it were a hot poker burning away at her soul.

“Shoot me.” She challenged, unmoving and convinced that he would not pull the trigger.

“Stop” Rick ordered, his hand flying up at her. “You don’t know us. You’re putting yourself at risk” He turned his head back to Daryl “You don’t need to do this. Hey. Look at me.”

“I’m not in danger. I am the danger.” Jess informed them all. She threw the empty bag on top of the pile of smuggled guns and stepped back, ignoring the weapon that was still being pointed at her. With her whole being, she hoped that her mask would distort her voice enough to keep up her disguise as she spoke, “You can have your precious guns and I won’t breathe a word to Deanna. But if you try anything like this again and put the people of that town in danger, if you jeopardize their safety in any way, I will single handedly destroy all of you.”

She wasn’t sure why such an extravagant and serious sentence had left her lips, but what she was sure of, was that she wouldn’t have hurt any of them. Her aim was to strike some sense into them, to make them see that what they’d been given was a blessing in such a harsh world and they were taking advantage of it. Before anyone could speak or come up with an equally as threatening retort, Jess fled into the trees and Rick slapped the gun from Daryl’s hand.

“We can’t just go around shooting people. Not unless we have to.” Rick scolded as Daryl skulked off a few feet away. Carol knelt down and set to dropping the guns back into the bag.

“I don’t like her.” Daryl grumbled. “Somethin’ ‘bout her.”

“I don’t trust any of them, least of all her. I didn’t even know she was still around. But if we get trigger happy, we’re screwed. We’re vastly outnumbered and even with this bag we’re outgunned. And…” He trailed off, reluctant to finish his sentence “…As much as I hate to admit it, she helped us out on the road.”

“She also said she helped me get you out of Terminus.” Carol called over her shoulder.

“How do we even know that’s the truth?” Daryl argued at Carol “I didn’t see her, did you?”

Carol zipped the bag up and slung it over her shoulder, its weight made her slouch to the side and her floral, stepford wife outfit seemed more out of place than ever.

“No. But something tells me she’s good at not being seen. None of us picked up on the fact that she knew exactly what we were doing today. She was watching us all week and we didn’t know. She knows things. She sees things. We have to be careful. She's like 1984 personified.” She scoffed.

Rick retrieved the pistol from the ground and shoved it into the back of his belt, nudging his head up for Daryl and Carol to follow him back to Alexandria. He didn’t need to tell them where they were going or with what plan, they already knew. They had no choice but to return the guns and surrender to the failure of their strategy, or they risked being outsmarted and potentially massacred.

 - - - - - 

The group saw Jess intermittently over the next couple of days while they settled, which began to happen, slowly but surely. Deanna dished out jobs and most were accepted gratefully, everyone had a role, all except Daryl who baffled Deanna so much she’d watched the tape of his interview several times. On one occasion, she’d even asked Jess what her take on him was. In order to maintain her anonymity and apparent indifference to him, she simply expressed that she thought he was more suited to being outside the walls. As a result, Deanna eventually tasked him with hunting the community’s food, a job that Jess had been doing since her own arrival at the town. She made sure to stay well away on her own hunting trips, so much so, that Daryl had no idea she was even around when she watched him from afar. His hunting prowess was second to none and he was such an effective and observant tracker that she almost got herself caught more than once.

It was on one of these hunting trips that Jess found herself distracted while tracking an Opossum. The growling and chest bubbling noises of Walkers quickly set her on guard and instead of running away from the dead, she ran towards them and was determined to rid the area of such a plague. As her boots thudded on the dry and cracked ground and she jumped over fallen branches and shoved through bushes, other sounds slowed her down.

Daryl and Rick were back to back, knives drawn and slowly circling. Walkers surrounded them, being put down one by one but through a slow and tiring process. Jess quickly equipped her machete and surged through the trees with enough time to swing with all her might and completely decapitate a Walker. It’s head was sliced clean off and Jess gripped onto its hair, dragging it’s gnashing teeth away from Rick’s arm while his other one was busy trying to dislodge his knife from the skull of another disease ridden corpse.

She stepped back, watching the body drop to the floor as Daryl finished stabbing the dead ones around him, the Walker head was still gripped in her hand as blood dripped onto the dust and it's teeth carried on grinding together. Rick spun around, his boots scuffing against the ground and his eyes wide with shock.

“You two were following me” She stated.

Daryl and Rick exchanged a glance as Daryl wiped the blood from his knife on his jeans and collected his crossbow, which lay on the ground by his feet. Rick wiped his brow with the back of his hand and quickly took in the bodies that littered the floor. He counted six but suspected more were on the way. He turned back to Jess.

“We just want to talk to you.”

“So, talk.” She snapped, dropping the head to the ground with a squelch.

“Ya name’s Parker, right? Why don’t ya live at Alexandria?” Daryl cut in as he stepped closer to her. She responded by stepping back, telling him in no uncertain terms that closing in on her was not going to be tolerated.

“I have my own home.” She told him.

“Where?” He quickly barked back.

Rick could hear the anger rising in his voice once more and readied himself for yet another tense encounter.

“Is this an interrogation? Because you’re advised against it.” She asked, her eyes flickering across both of their faces. Daryl’s was now older, even after just over a year, his hair was longer and his body, much like her own had changed to adapt to his new life. His arms were stronger and he appeared altogether more fighter like than ever before. His glare was fixed on her.

Those bright, blue eyes.

Rick moved in front of Daryl, who accepted the notion and backed off, trusting his friend to handle the situation better than he had last time they’d ran into her in the woods.

“It’s not. We’re just trying to figure you out.” Rick assured her with a tone that less glowing with rage than Daryl’s.

“You and everybody else.” She replied.

“Walls, food, medical care, nice houses. Why choose to live away from Alexandria? It’s doesn’t make any sense.” Daryl questioned over Rick’s shoulder.

“People die. Then, they get up and eat other people. Nothing makes sense anymore.” She pointed out while looking right at him by default and feeling her heart lurch.

Careful. He will figure you out.

“If you don’t live there, there must be a reason. You don’t trust them?” Rick probed.

“You can trust them.” She told him. She was deliberately avoiding some questions with the intention of making it common knowledge that conversation with her was going to be strained at best, if it was ever allowed in the first place. She had the control; she’d worked hard for it and she was not about to give it to either of them.

“Where d’ya learn to fight like that?” Daryl wanted to know.

“An old friend.” She said bluntly, looking at Rick “If you have any more questions, I suggest you arrest me.”

Both men stayed quiet meaning Jess took her cue to leave. Half of her wanted to sprint away from them, to curl up in her own shroud of mystery, her lack of identity which meant she didn’t have to acknowledge the fact that Daryl’s eyes were still so blue and his reckless, impulsivity was still ever present, but he’d matured somehow and showed a courage that she always knew was there. What she didn’t expect was to feel proud of him for it. She strode over the fallen bodies in the direction she’d ran in from.  

“Wait.” She heard Daryl say from behind her. She stopped but didn’t grace him with anything else, her vision was skimming the path she was going to take.

“Who are you?” His voice was louder and she knew he was right behind her. She licked her lips and thought back to the first time she’d introduced herself to the hostile redneck of the camp. How brave she’d felt at that moment despite his short and curt responses.

I’m not her anymore. I am a better ghost than I am a human being. 

“Nobody.”

NEXT CHAPTER

-----Tagging as requested ----

@lilred254​