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fallingskiesandrisingseas · 5 months

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Dear all,

I've been watching Netflix's BLUE EYE SAMURAI and I'm in love! And I know we are going to get a season two and that Mizu's origins will probably be explained much more but I wanted to give you some headcanon already. Here's how I think Mizu came to be. ________________________________________

Mizu's mother knew she was damned from the moment she laid eyes on the handsome foreigner.

Later, when it all went to hell, she'd often wondered why she fell for him so swiftly, so loudly. She cursed herself for not being able to control herself, but deep down, she knew why.

Those blue eyes.

All of her friends and suitors had dark eyes, nearly black. Her people, from lowly farmers to extravagant prostitutes, had eyes like the night. Eyes that could hide so much.

Once, left unattended, she had wandered the halls of her family urban estate, ventured beyond the walls of their dwelling at night. There was a large party going on in the town square, her parents were in attendance. She easily slipped the mind of her supervisor, an old woman that didn't dare tell her parents she was becoming too blind to take care of a six-year old.

From the shadows, a beggar had emerged, eager to take a hostage, already spending the money he'd get from her ransom.

His brown eyes had been filled with darkness.

She still remembered the panic, running away from him. He caught her all the same. What chance did a six year old have against a grown man?

She could fell his bad breath on her face as he squeezed her against his torso uncomfortably.

"I'm going to make a lot of money from you, little girl."

She screamed.

Then she felt blood splattering on her face as a samurai cut down her attacker.

"What were you doing out on your own?" he asked, kneeling down to meet her eyes. His blade was still wet with blood.

"I just wanted to... see the party..." she stammered,

"You can't!" The man sheated his sword. "Danger is everywhere for a girl like you. Do not forget that."

Her parents didn't let her go out much after that. The old lady was fired, the samurai promoted.

She'd never forgotten those dark dark eyes. But she hadn't stopped wandering, either.

Growing up a noble was quite boring. Other children could play; she had lessons in kaligraphy, weaving, economics. She was taught to read and write, how to ride horses. She snuck into the library often, reading the mightiest tales of adventure.

"A lady must know how to sew" a younger copy of the blind woman told her, when she pricked herself with a needle again. Her hair was raven black still, her hands steady.

"You are of an age to be wed now, miss. You need to be careful."

Angry, she'd stormed off to the library.

The samurai, who was now much older, gray showing in his beard, her father's most trusted advisor and most important bureaucrat, had found her there an hour later sitting on the floor reading a book.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Hiding."

"Why?"

"I don't want to marry."

"You will have to. Not long from now, too"

"Spare me the lecture on duty. I'm not in the mood. "

He crouched down, looked somber. "You will have to get better at getting in the mood, then. There are few choices for a lady like you, unfortunately."

She sneered. "So I just do whatever my dad wants. Marry whoever he chooses?"

The old man shook his head. "I'm sorry. Love is not in the cards for you, milady. That's the way it is."

The young girl turned her head, refusing to look him in the eye. "You're no better than the man you saved me from, all those years ago."

The old man sighed, then stood up.

"You know nothing of suffering, milady. You've lived your entire life with food in your stomach, servants to satisfy your every whim. I pray you will learn to appreciate what you have."

"I will appreciate marrying a powerful man for my dad's influence, sure."

"Just promise me one thing."

She looked at him.

"Do not forget danger."

"I promise, wise one."

He rolled his eyes, turned around. Then he walked away. It was the last time she saw him.

And despite his warning, despite her reassurance to heed danger, she'd forgotten to do just that.

During a long boring night of trying to find a suitor, half a week later, Mizu's mother slipped out of the estate, made her way to the town square.

Her supervisor, younger this time, didn't know the estate like she did, found her attention elsewhere and then couldn't find the girl once refocussed.

She went to the town square once again. This time, there was no samurai to save her. He'd been called away, there was conflict somewhere.

She took a cup of strong liquor out of someone's hands, danced. The village was watching in disgust. A lady shouldn't behave like that. The noblemen weren't even near the dancing crowd.

In Japan, modesty was virtue.

But the man she danced with that night wasn't Japanese.

He was loud and brazen and blue-eyed. He knew he wanted her the second he saw her.

"How are you tonight, lady?" he asked her, elegantly adjusting to her rhythm.

He was a foreigner, but she didn't care much about that. His Japanese was heavy, each word pronounced with a heavy drawl. His hands were strong.

"I'm doing well, lord."

"Could I have this dance?" he asked.

Bold. Foreign.

Exiting.

She looked into his eyes. In the dim light, they seemed to shine.

She gave him her hand.

"Yes."

They danced and danced and then she found herself underneath him. He made her see stars. She was never allowed to watch those, back home. He was a powerful man, that she knew from the clothes she tore off his body, but he was kind.

When they were lying on the bed afterwards, her slowly drawing circles on his chest, she asked him what he did for a living.

He smiled. "I trade."

Suddenly, all the alarm bells were ringing. White traders in Japan were normally not smooth-skinned talkers like this. They were criminals, trading drugs and weapons.

And flesh.

"I need to leave" she said, attempting to get out of the bed.

His hands pressed down on her slightly, but commanding. "I don't think you do."

His eyes, warm hours before, were cold now. Not sea, but sheets of ice.

She didn't escape his grasp again. No samurai, no mentor, no one to save her, nor the baby that was developing in her belly.

For 4 years, she was taken around Japan. She was beautiful, yes, and young. She found ways to make herself... "useful". Her parents had stopped looking for her. The old samurai died in his bed, wondering where she was.

She and her child were neglected, but not starved. She lived a life in a cage on the second floors of large castles while her white devil traded lives, drugs and guns. While he terrorized Japan. Her only contact was with a woman of old age.

A woman of her age, she corrected. She wasn't young anymore. Not like she used to be. A kind woman, doing her best to take care of the mother and daughter.

This was not the life she wished on her child. Mizu, she'd named her. Water. After the ocean in her eyes.

One faithful day, she saw her white captor come home with another girl. She knew it wouldn't be long before she'd fall for him too.

Before her and her little baby were no longer kept around for entertainment. She needed to act, and needed to act now.

Before he decided to turn her into one of the trophies she saw hanging on the wall.

She knew of a village, by the sea. Far away from Edo, out of reach for the white bastard. Best fish in the area. She'd been there, once.

She also knew that the front door was locked with a large key only the white devil had access to.

She knew he liked it ugly. She knew where he kept his stash of ryu.

One day, when the woman came to take care of her, she made her case.

"Please help us get out of here" she begged the lady. But she shook her head.

"I can't. He'll kill me, and there is nowhere we can go. "

"Please! Haven't you seen what he does to the other kids once they are old enough to talk?"

The woman nodded. His other bastard children lived in cages, three levels lower, or were sold into slavery once they were old enough. Mizu, a pretty and blue-eyed Japanese girl, would earn the white devil a fortune.

"I'll think about it."

For two weeks, the servant struggled. It was the right thing to do, right?. But it could get her killed. She twisted and turned in her bed. Those blue eyes...

After two weeks she'd made up her mind.

"I can't help you. I'm sorry."

"Please. You have to. He'll kill us."

"I can't take you both!" She screamed. Too scared, too cowardly. Too weak to carry the woman.

"Please, at least take her. Take her and go far from here." Her mother pleaded. "I'll pay you to take care of her. "He keeps his money.."

"I know where he keeps his money!" The lady screamed. "Don't you think I want to get out of here too?"

The mother's voice broke. "Please. I'll do anything. I don't want this life for Mizu."

She took off her necklace. Expensive. Gold.

"Here. Sell this. I'll distract him so you can get to the key. But please, take care of Mizu."

The caretaker looked at the jewelry. It was refined gold, a large gem in the middle. She'd be able to sell that for a lot of money. Live in the countryside with a child, the one thing life had denied her.

"What about you?"

The woman smiled. She lifted the hem of her shirt. A large black spot showed, just below her ribcage. Red streaks were already creeping up her arms.

"He hit me three days ago. Had all his rings on. Broke the skin, and he didn't clean his hands after trading opium."

The older woman looked, in shock. "What... what does.."

"I'll be dead soon. Too weak to make an escape myself. But I'll distract the white devil. Just promise me she will be safe."

The old woman nodded, pocketed the necklace. "I promise."

"His gold is in a locker. 5.000 ryu. You'll need to bribe the guard and get passage away from here."

She nodded, planning her escape. The two women looked at each other. About the same age, one weakened by sepsis, the other terrified of the life ahead of her.

"Thank you"

They nodded to each other.

Three hours later, she sat nearly naked at the dinner table, hands shaking. Mizu was with the other woman, ready to run.

When the white man came in, fresh from the port, he looked suprised. But then he grinned, slid his hands over her exposed shoulders. "What are you doing, darling?."

She shivered. It wasn't cold. "I want to please you, lord."

He lifted her out of her seat, her breast pressing against his chest as she messed with his belt. Her hands were shaking so bad she couldn't get it open.

"You Japanese woman are all the same. Whores for white cock."

The other woman snuck into the bedroom as the white man had his way with her on the table.

She lifted the key off the hinges, hid the baby in her robes, took the gold.

She disappeared like a thief in the night.

"WHERE IS MY GOLD!?" the white man thundered the day after. The sound boomed through the castle, reached the woman in her cell, woke her up.

He stormed in, smacked her in the face. "Where!?"

She smiled at him. She had a high fever, could feel death approaching. She would soon meet her old samurai again. "You'll never find it. "

The white man pulled a knife. His blue eyes were cold as ice. "Where is the kid, then? The blue eyed bastard?"

"She'll never be a slave. And you won't sell her."

She felt the tip of his blade open the skin of her throat. "Tell me!" he commanded.

"You'll never find her, and I won't tell you."

He let her go, roared.

When the blade came down, she was smiling.

#blue eyed samurai #mizu #netflix #meta #headcanon #origin #blue eye samurai

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warriorofthought · 1 year

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He wants to court you

Summary: Imagine Lindir telling you that he loves you and that he would like to court you.

Lindir X Male Reader

Word count: 1007

Warnings: no one

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You are an excellent elven warrior and healer. After your mother died, you went in search of the place she always told you about.

Rivendell.

Your mother was right, the place is beautiful and Lord Elrond welcomed you with open arms.

Because you were always teased for your knowledge and love of books in your hometown, nothing held you there after your mother's death.

Here in Buchtal they accept you as you are. Quiet, observant, and happy to keep to yourself, seems to be no fault of the elves here.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I head towards the library to read a new book about stars. When I get there, the supervisor greets me and I nod in response. Then I walk to the shelf where I think my next book is. Gently, I let my fingers glide over the books and come to a stop at the appropriate book. Happily I pull it out and walk with it to my chamber.

Out of sheer curiosity, I don't pay attention to my surroundings and I'm already flipping through the book. As I turn the corner, I bump into something and drop the book.

Confused, I look around and see the book being held out to me.

"Mellon, you didn't hurt yourself, did you?" asks Lindir.

"No, I didn't," I whisper, taking the book with a slight smile.

"Thank you."

Lindir gives me another checking look before nodding in understanding.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"To my chamber, so I can read the book."

"Then be careful." At that, he clears a path for me and lets me through.

I give him a quick nod before continuing on my way.

"Y/N, do you want to take a walk with me in the garden tonight, we can talk about your new knowledge if you like?"

Surprised at the offer, I quickly turned back to Lindir.

"Are you sure you want to go for a walk with me there?"

"Of course y/n, I would be happy if we could meet at the fountains tonight."

"Okay, yeah sure I'd love to, I'll see you tonight then," I stammer, smiling slightly.

"I'm looking forward to it," I added quickly before taking my leave for my chamber.

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When I see from my balcony that it is slowly getting dark outside. I decided that it's time to meet with Lindir. Therefore I put the book on the desk and went to the fountain.

When I get there, Lindir is already standing there. He looks relaxed as he watches the water from the fountain.

As I approach him, he turns to me and smiles.

"I hope you haven't been waiting for me long, Lindir?"

"No, I've only been here a few moments too, Tingilya (twinkling star)."

"Shall we?"

I nod to him. And together we stroll through the garden.

I tell him what I've read in the book and he listens intently, asking great questions about it.

Which fills my heart with the feelings of happiness.

Lindir leads us to an isolated spot with a sparkling little pond.

I am surprised when I see that there are some snacks and two glasses to drink from and I glance over at Lindir. He takes my hand encouragingly and pulls me to the blanket.

Then we both sit down.

"I hope this is okay and I didn't go too far?" Unsure, Lindir looks at me.

Smiling, I look at him "It's fine, don't worry, I like it Lindir"

"Hmm, but is there a reason why you made so much effort, a simple walk had made me happy too"

"Yes, y/n I wanted to talk to you "

"I enjoy listening to you Lindir, so feel free to tell me whatever is on your mind".

"I... I know this is probably unexpected, especially since we're both men, but I love you, as much as you love the stars and the world of books, my heart has only been beating for you since you came here. I was afraid to tell you about it, but in the last few weeks I've been trying to show you with little gestures that I'm interested in you. This may sound completely crazy now. But I love seeing you close your eyes and hold your face to the wind when we are outside and you disappear into the world of books. It's a beautiful sight and in that moment I feel that I really love you. I love how your smile lights up the world when you feel the magic of adventure. You have shown me that there are so many beautiful and incredible things in this world and I have also been fascinated by your adventures as a warrior, your travels have not always been too dangerous and I can't wait to explore more of your thoughts and the world with you!

Travel

You have taken me on so many incredible journeys and allowed me to experience so many wonderful things and even though we never left Rivendell once. I crave your closeness, I like it when you keep me company while I do my chores for Lord Elrond, the silence between us is never uncomfortable.

So I wanted to tell you that I love you and if you could imagine, well, if we could both courting or if I could court you? "

"Courting me? Are you sure you want to court me, an elven knight who doesn't fit in his homeland?"

Doubting, I look into his eyes, searching for the truth.

Gently, Lindir grabs my hands and pulls me a little closer to him. His hand gently slides to my face, embracing it. His thumb gently runs over my cheek. Before his eyes catch mine.

My breath hitches in my throat when i see how much Lindir's eyes sparkle as he looks at me.

"I'm very sure y/n, if you feel something for me too, will you allow me to court you?"

I nod and lean against his hand.

"I would love to, Lindir. I love you too."

#Lindir x male reader #lotr #lindir #fluff fic #short story #lindir imagine #lindir rivendell #oneshot #lord of the rings

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wearelibrarian · 1 year

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So, I'm a LIS student, recently started an internship at a local public library and was told that they're moving me from the technical area (classifying and describing books) to reference temporarily (because we're short-staffed due to summer holidays).

I'm really nervous about dealing with people, helping them find whatever they want and giving them recs if asked. I'm shy and awkward and haven't been reading much lately, so I just wanted to know if you have any advice for me?

Hi!

Want to know a secret?

In my first library desk job, back at my undergrad, I… didn’t do very well interacting with patrons when I first started. My boss shifted me to behind the scenes stuff for an entire semester before giving me a second chance at the desk, didn’t tell me the full reason behind the shift until much later. That’s a story for another day, and one better suited for my main rather than Librarian.

What makes one succeed at a reference and/or circulation desk isn’t reading all the books - I tried that, it didn’t help. It’s being able to meet people where they are.

A reference interview is a conversation. It’s about listening to what someone is asking, giving follow up questions to get a better picture, and exploring for an answer together. Patron wants horror recommendations? Pull up the library catalog, show them how to search by subject, how to filter searches. If your library has access to readers advisory databases (my university does but we also have a strong library science program), plug in some books the patron liked in the past and see what it suggests. Some patron questions won’t even be directly related to the library’s collection - I’ve been asked for directions too many times to count, and it’s never bad to memorize the location of the closest bathroom to your desk.

Remember… your job is to help. You won’t have every answer, but you can at least provide a nudge in the right direction. There’s nothing wrong with taking down someone’s contact information to reach out to them later if it’s a question which requires you to dig, or to ask a supervisor for help, or to refer a patron to another organization.

(Hey, tumblarians, I know a LOT of you follow me. Anyone able to give more advice to anon?)

#hopefully this helps!#I’m just finishing up my own degree #though I’ve been working in libraries for six years now in paid positions #plus another two and a half years volunteering #library #libraries #librarian #ask #tumblarian #tossing that tag on there since I know some of y’all who could help follow it and it applies here

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weakfleshwillingsoul · 1 year

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odd week on sunday i went shopping for katie for her birthday present after she contacted me after not being in touch for just under a year and asked me to attend her twenty second birthday party i bought her a beautiful copy of dracula and a pretty pair of earrings 30 dollars total the book from that place at the end of kensington ave the owners kid followed me around the whole time because i let him talk to me about the music and america and i also bought picnic at hanging rock for myself. on monday i came back home from downtown and went to work feeling as far as i remember apathetic. on tuesday saint valentines day i went to school for 7:30am and had a coffee before proteomics by the pond feeling an incredible euphoria and love of life. at 1:00pm as i was studying in the library an hour and a half before my lab my parents called and told me they were putting down the cat, sudden kidney failure. couldnt do anything about it ... it was over within ten minutes. went to my lab i was out of it. our restriction digest on the gel looked fucked up but at least we ended early. went back downtown, picnic at hanging rock on the subway. wednesday the next day i skipped first class and went for the next one at 11:30, ran thru the rain five minutes late to class and got there to realize it had been cancelled several hours earlier. Fucked over dead cat missed class showed up to school for no reason. tea and went to library and out of all serendipitous encounters saw nick as i was coming up to the second floor of the library we embraced and talked for hours. Any other way the day had gone i would have missed him. on thursday i left the house before my parents had woken up to be at school again by 7:30am and read picnic at hanging rock with a cigarette on the bench by the pond. after proteomics i asked dr donaldson about the lab and he showed me the restricted third and fourth floor of the life sciences building, the thesis laboratories, and the nmr spectrometer, then told me to stay in touch and enrol in his thesis lab for the fall semester. lab went okay, we had to redo the gel because i fucked up the wells but restriction digest showed up where it was meant to on the second one. Went back home and met some old high school friends strangely had a great time. Friday did nothing. Today went to work for rush hours till closing and nearly passed out halfway thru my shift, gave my supervisor a fright, the persian ladies fed me a ferrero rocher in the breakroom, realized my period started and i had bled thru my jeans. went home three hours early. the second i got home and took my coat off i received an anonymous love confession in my inbox. eyebrow piercing fell out about an hour ago, the top ball unscrewed as i washed my face. I gave up trying to put it back in, it looked like two open wounds. I was wearing my brothers old boxers today at work. He left them behind when he went away so he didnt want them anyways. i scrubbed the blood out in the sink with rose dr bronners and watched the rust coloured water wash down the drain.

my dreams this week were about seeing my brother, a dead pigeon run over on spadina with its wings stiff upright and feathers shifting in the breeze, and other things i dont remember

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

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Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)

Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid.

A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is. Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Prologue

Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail.

The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them.

These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match.

It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one.

The newest addition to the list is her.

_ _ _

Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible.

I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him.

A trillion. At least.

For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him.

“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening.

Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.

As a superior.

I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).

The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.

Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book.

But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach.

Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him.

“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it.

And probably because she just said it to me right now.

“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence.

“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”

That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?

“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity.

“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.”

I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels.

“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.”

That surely kept us apart.

Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!

Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!

Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that.

Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work.

If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age.

Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.

I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.”

Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.

“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?”

Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me.

“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.

No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”

Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Maybe 99.99%.

_ _ _

I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I��d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too.

I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me.

What was going on?

What is going on?

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before.

“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with.

“What do you think about me dating again?”

If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue.

To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”

Thinking about Max that is.

Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch.

We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.

So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that?

JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”

I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”

“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”

There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted.

“I’m ready.”

Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.

_ _ _

I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.

“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”

Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought.

I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.

“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.

“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish.

“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.”

Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.”

I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine.

I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?”

Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …”

In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag.

I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one.

Red.

“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice.

And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect.

_ _ _

My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes.

That story for later? This is the one.

Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do.

There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really.

As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates.

Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.

No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down.

“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”

I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word.

“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.”

“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.

With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”

I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.

“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”

My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered.

Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.

“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.”

His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise.

The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.

Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?

In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well.

If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand.

If he kissed me.

Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.

I would have never guessed it would lead me here.

Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.

_ _ _

No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe.

I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting.

I don’t wanna seem the way I do

Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all.

Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.

I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way.

It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half.

I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress.

Then there she was.

All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes.

I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner.

“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently.

I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance.

“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go.

Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that.

But I’m confident when I’m with you

“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained.

“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.

“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.

“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it.

“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke.

“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable.

“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me.

“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again.

“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.”

“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said.

“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.”

_ _ _

“In what way?”

Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer.

That look ...

“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated.

“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet.

“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.

“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.

“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him.

“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”

“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?”

That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock.

“You think I’m perfect?”

“That, or you’re pretty close to it.”

Lately all I feel is bad and bruised

I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed.

“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.”

“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was.

“How am I wrong?”

He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same.

“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?”

The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?

Tired of tripping on my shoes

“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”

He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.

“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.”

I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own.

That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger.

“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”

But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating

When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice.

“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine.

_ _ _

“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?

“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”

That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission.

I was the first.

He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”

“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him.

“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t.

Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line.

That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.

“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.

“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face.

“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.”

The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!”

I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’

“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand.

I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day.

_ _ _

We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter.

“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.

“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility.

From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg.

I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.

“At exactly 4:33 a.m,” He moved too.

“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things.

In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?”

In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.”

“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me.

Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite.

“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.

Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.

“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.

“I’m here.”

We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else.

My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”

The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered.

Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.

I was infinite.

Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.

You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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silvermoongirl10swfics · 3 years

Text

Learning to deal with emotionally crippling pain

For @codywanweek 2021 Day 2: AU (Modern University AU.)

You can also read this fic here on A03.

(The title of the fic will make sense after reading the fic.)

This is set at Manchester Metropolitan University in the UK, where I went to uni. As I wanted to combine the uni I loved going to with one of my favourite ships.

No major warnings, but there is a slight, non-graphic, description of how bodies were buried during the Black Death (this may seem very random, but I don’t want to gross anyone out.)

(I was inspired by @catawampuscorner drawing adorable baby clones in animal onesies, the cuteness now lives rent free in my brain and my brain desperately wanted to add baby clones and baby Jedi in animal onesies to this fic due to their wonderful drawings of the baby clones. So, I have referenced codywan and some other clones being youngsters in animal onesies near the end of this fic.)

Also Wolffe and Fox are twins because I thought of the idea about a month ago and loved it so much.

Cody hefted his kit bag onto his shoulder and nodded in thanks to the bus driver as he stepped off the bus on Oxford Road. He turned hearing a loud thump and rolled his eyes, Fives had, against Cody’s and Rex’s advice, decided to sit on the top deck of the double-decker bus while carrying his heavy rugby kit bag. Unsurprisingly Fives stumbled and hit the wall of the stairs as he tried to walk down the steep steps, his bag over balancing him. Rex threw out an arm to steady their younger brother and then the two of them joined Cody on the pavement.

“We did warn you,” stated Rex with a roll of his eyes.

“Whatever,” griped Fives. Without another word, Fives was walking through All Saints Park, no doubt heading back to the student halls where he shared a flat with his twin Echo and six other first year students.

“I really hope Echo is better soon. I don’t know how much longer I can take Fives in this mood,” sighed Rex shaking his head.

“You and me both,” agreed Cody with a nod of his head at his younger brother.

Cody was the eldest of the four brothers, and was currently in his third and final year of studying his undergraduate history degree at Manchester Metropolitan University. Rex was eleven months younger than him and was in his second year studying law, Echo and Fives were their younger brothers who were twins. The family hadn’t thought that Fives was interested in going to university, which was fine with them as they didn’t want to push him into something he didn’t want. But when Echo announced his intention of going to study mathematics at the same university where Cody and Rex were studying, Fives suddenly announced that he was also going to Man Met to study physiotherapy. The twins were in their first year and two years ago, at eighteen, Cody had thought he would be getting some peace from his three younger brothers, in the end he only got one year of peace before his brothers joined him in quick succession. But thankfully he only had to put up with living with them when they were all home for the holidays. As Cody shared a one-bedroom flat with his long-term boyfriend Obi-Wan who had also chosen to study at Man Met, also in his third year, studying English literature. Obi-Wan and Cody had been best friends since their first day at primary school aged four, later confessing their romantic feelings for each other when they were sixteen, both coming down from the stress of getting their GCSE results. They hadn’t actually told each other where they were applying for university, not wanting to influence each other’s decision. But they still ended up at the same university anyway, not that Cody was complaining.

Like Cody, Obi-Wan had not been able to escape his younger brother. Anakin was friends with Fives and Echo as they were the same age, Anakin was in his first year studying engineering at Man Met. It was funny to Cody, because Echo and Anakin’s subjects were in the same faculty, they often saw each other as their lectures and seminars took place in the John Dalton buildings, whereas Fives went to lectures across the main road on the slightly smaller campus in the Brooks Building. Fives had always been protective of Echo, his reasoning being he was the older twin so had to look out for Echo. But after Echo got hurt in a car accident when they were fifteen driving home with their dad, Fives had grown even more protective, somehow blaming himself because he wasn’t there in the car with Echo. The youngest of the four brothers hadn’t been seriously hurt, but the accident had gained him a constant shadow. So, when the twins applied to the university, they looked at the map of the two campuses and picked Oxford Court for their student halls accommodation because it was pretty much in the middle of where the two of them would have their lectures and seminars.

With another look in the direction Fives had gone, feeling a rare moment of relief at seeing his brother walk away. Cody loved his brothers, but because Echo had gotten injured in their last rugby game, he couldn’t take part in practice and it had left Fives in a mood for the past week. Neither Echo, Cody or Rex could seem to talk Fives out of his mood, leading to Cody thinking he may have to call their parents to talk some sense into Fives. But he didn’t want to worry his mum, which is what would happen if Cody had to tell her Fives still wasn’t okay a week after Echo badly spraining his ankle. So, Cody’s only other option would be to call his twin cousins, Wolffe and Fox who were both in their third and final years of studying at the same university in London. Wolffe was studying sport science, while Fox was studying history like Cody, but with more of a focus on medical history while Cody preferred military history.

Wolffe and Fox were the closest cousins Cody and his brothers had, due to their parents all moving to Britain from New Zealand due to his father and uncle getting jobs with the same tech company before Cody, Wolffe and Fox were born. Leaving the rest of the aunts, uncles and cousins back in New Zealand with their grandparents. Cody then reflected, calling the other twins might not be a bad idea. Wolffe would be gruff but caring in talking to Fives and if that failed, Fox would just beat sense into him either verbally or physically. With there being direct trains from London to Manchester, Cody wouldn’t be surprised if Fox came in person to beat some sense into Fives. Fox had no patience for Fives’ protective older brother routine of Echo and that was down to Wolffe being protective of Fox. Which he hated, but to be fair to Wolffe, he was fully justified going by the amount of coffee and lack of sleep Fox was powering through to work on his assignments and dissertation. Despite the fact it was still January and Fox had three months left until he had to hand in his dissertation.

Thinking of dissertations, Cody waved goodbye to Rex and headed towards the cafeteria in the Business School building to get some tea for his boyfriend. Once he acquired the tea in a take away cup, he went next door to the library where Obi-Wan was working on his dissertation, thankful that their university library allowed food and drink as long as it was silent. Fox was insanely jealous as his university library forbade any food or drink to enter the building, meaning Fox was deprived of his precious coffee. Which was why Wolffe pushed Fox to work in the library as often as he could. Cody didn’t mind plying Obi-Wan with tea, because while he could say Obi-Wan was additive to his tea, he didn’t drink any caffeinated tea two hours before going to bed, unlike Fox who was known to drink a mug of coffee before going to bed if Wolffe hadn’t managed to stop him. It was a wonder Wolffe hadn’t gone grey with the amount of time he spent worrying over his twin brother.

Cody scanned his student card to let him past the barriers and started walking up the two flights of stairs to the floor Obi-Wan liked to work on. The library was massive, with its different wings and five floors, but Cody was glad it was so big because it could be divided into silent study areas and group study areas, where you could talk so long as you were quiet. Obi-Wan, like Cody, hated working in complete silence and in their first year they found a nook between some shelves that had a table where they could bring their own laptops to work on their essays together. But were conveniently close to university computers so they could log on to print their work if needed. It was also a space their brothers had been unable to find them in, although Cody was fairly certain Rex knew where he liked to work, but was kind enough to leave him alone. Anakin, Echo and Fives would not be as considerate.

He walked through the doors into the study area and walked halfway into the big room with its rows of computers and shelves of books, until he found Obi-Wan hunched over his notes and two books he was using for his dissertation. Cody silently reminded himself that he was due to meet with his dissertation supervisor tomorrow to check the progress on his second chapter. He placed the cup of tea on the table beside Obi-Wan’s laptop and pressed a kiss onto the mess of copper hair, noting that his boyfriend hadn’t shaved again, making him wonder if Obi-Wan was committing to growing a beard. If he did, it would be because Obi-Wan was fed up of people thinking he was sixteen or seventeen, rather than being almost twenty-one years old, something that delighted Anakin to no end. Obi-Wan slowly sat up and blinked owlishly at him and rubbed a hand over his face. “Rugby practice is over already?” he asked in confusion as he looked at his watch.

Cody snorted in amusement, “thankfully yes.” Obi-Wan had come to the library just after Cody left their flat for practice, that had been two and half hours ago.

Obi-Wan reached for his tea and sighed in pleasure when he sipped on the hot liquid. “Fives still in a mood then?”

“Yes,” he sighed in exasperation as he sat down beside Obi-Wan and putting his kit bag on the floor with a roll of his shoulder.

Raising a knowing eyebrow over the rim of his cup, Obi-Wan asked. “Are you going to call Wolffe and Fox?” Cody nodded in agreement, smiling to himself, happy at how easily Obi-Wan fit into his family. Obi-Wan, Cody, Wolffe and Fox had all gone through school together. Obi-Wan and Anakin’s dad, Qui-Gon, was a friend of Cody’s parents and often came over for dinner. According to his dad, Cody’s mum and Qui-Gon had been having wine nights when they lamented over their empty nests and how it was unfair how quickly their children were growing up. While Cody’s aunt just laughed at them because Wolffe and Fox had left home for university almost three years before.

They lapsed into silence, and Cody just let himself day dream as he listened to the clack of Obi-Wan’s keyboard. He also ran through a mental list of things he needed to do for his dissertation and thought he could do with another trip down to London to go to the National Archives again for some more primary sources. His phone buzzed and Cody snorted at the text message from Echo.

[Echo] Fives is in SUCH a bad mood! Please help me!

[Cody] Sorry Echo. Rex and I had him for two hours, we need a break.

[Echo] WORST BIG BROTHERS EVER!!!!

[Echo] I hope you marry Obi-Wan so I can adopt him as my favourite older brother.

[Echo] You know what. I’m not waiting until you marry him. He’s my favourite brother now.

Cody chuckled to himself, he couldn’t argue with Echo, Obi-Wan was his favourite person too.

[Cody] What WILL Fives say?

[Echo] Right now I don’t care. He’s driving me INSANE!!!!

[Cody] I was going to call Wolffe and Fox to see if they could help.

[Echo] PLEASE!!! I am BEGGING YOU!!!!

[Echo] You know what?

[Echo] Just skip straight to Fox.

[Echo] And record it. I want to relive that future moment for forever. Fox’s position as my favourite cousin will be secured.

Cody snorted in amusement again, Obi-Wan turned to him in question. So, Cody just showed him the messages and Obi-Wan shook his head in amusement, but he blushed slightly. No doubt due to Echo’s comments on Cody marrying Obi-Wan.

“Echo wishing harm on Fives. I never thought I’d see the day,” commented Obi-Wan, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter. No doubt remembering the times Fox lost his patience with bullies and idiots they went to school with and just went for them. Their aunt had to give Fox the disapproving lecture, but she also slipped Fox money for standing up to bullies for other kids. So, Fox’s handling of bullies and idiots had never been stopped, only been encouraged.

“Oh, Echo can be pushed to it,” chuckled Cody, recalling the few times Fives had made Echo lose his temper. Echo was a nice and quiet person, which also made him one of those people you did not want to make angry, because when his patience snapped. It snapped. He could be worse than Fox, and that said something.

“By the way, your dad text me. He’s invited me to a family reunion dinner in a month’s time. So, is anyone coming over from New Zealand?” Obi-Wan asked as he started to tidy his books away and turn off his laptop.

Cody nodded. “My grandparents are coming over in three weeks and are staying until the summer as they want to be here for mine, Wolffe and Fox’s graduations. Then a few of the cousins are coming over in the summer.” He smiled to himself; it would be nice to see his family members again. They all saw each other every year, one year Cody and his family would fly out to New Zealand and the next year the family would fly over to Britain for a few weeks. With all of the cousins now at university, it made sorting out reunions easier due to the longer holidays they all had.

Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled with amusement again, “anymore family arguments to look forward to?” he laughed.

“Probably,” Cody sighed as he rolled his eyes. Obi-Wan had come out to New Zealand with him last summer and witnessed some truly spectacular family arguments and rather silly ones as well. The most prominent being about Fox and Echo’s names.

When Fox had been a toddler, he and Wolffe had been put into animal onesies (Cody and his brothers also shared that misfortune with their cousins, but the less said about that the better), Wolffe into a wolf onesie and Fox into a fox onesie. Ever since Fox wanted to be called Fox, as he hated his proper name, the name being Frederick. If anyone ever called him Frederick when he was a small child he bit them, leading to his parents to tell their school when they started that it would be best if they didn’t call Fox Frederick for the safety of their own fingers.

Then when Echo had been four and in school, learning about words that began with the letter E, he heard the word Echo and wanted to call himself that, because he didn’t like being called Eli. Cody’s mum had tried to tell Echo his name was Eli, but Echo said Fox picked his name, so why couldn’t he? Cody’s mum tried her hardest to get Echo to forget about calling himself Echo, seeing as he was named after his mum’s father-in-law Elias and didn’t want to offend him. But Echo just started repeating everything everyone said, until the point their dad begged their mum to just let Echo call himself Echo. Fives didn’t want to be left out, and chose the nickname Fives, but he wasn’t involved in the arguments because he let their grandmother still call him Felix. Echo and Fox on the other hand, both refused to answer to their given names. And Obi-Wan had witnessed their grandmother once again getting annoyed when Echo and Fox didn’t answer her when she called them Eli and Frederick. That was also the visit where Obi-Wan learnt just who Echo and Fox inherited their stubbornness from. Grandpa Elias was not offended and found the whole thing hilarious and continued to congratulate Echo on his name every time he saw Echo. Cody was also convinced, his grandmother only continued the argument for the sake of it, he had seen her handwriting in birthday cards calling Echo and Fox by their chosen names. But she still wrote Eli and Frederick on family Christmas cards, again probably just for the drama.

But some uncles and aunts were not happy with Echo and Fox changing their names, albeit not legally, because other cousins began following their lead. Namely their four cousins who were all siblings (two sets of twins), Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker and Tech. The four of them changing their names and even happily calling themselves the Bad Batch at family gatherings much to the ire of their mother. Fives was blamed for their collective nickname, as Obi-Wan found out and thought it was hilarious. The Bad Batch had invited Echo to play with them when they were small, and Fives who had not been invited to play had been jealous and called them the Bad Batch, the four of them had loved it and adopted it as their group name.

Obi-Wan started to laugh quietly to himself as he put his laptop away in his bag. At Cody’s questioning look he smiled and said. “I’m just wondering who will be the first to say something to disrupt family dinner. Either you, your brothers or your cousins will say something. You have done ever since the first family dinner I was invited to when I was five.”

Cody smirked to himself and nodded, “honestly I’m expecting it to be Fox again. You know he deals with stress in the weirdest ways.”

“You mean like putting everyone else off their food?” teased Obi-Wan, his eyes glinting at the memory of the last dinner everyone had together.

Over the four-week long Christmas holiday, Cody’s parents had hosted numerous family dinners, wanting to spend as much time together as possible. As it was understood with Cody, Obi-Wan, Wolffe and Fox graduating university later that year, they may not get to come home as often anymore. Also, as Cody’s uncle and aunt lived next door to them and Obi-Wan lived five houses further down the road, it was very easy for Cody’s uncle and aunt, Wolffe, Fox, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and Anakin to join their family for dinner. Which also meant, Cody and Obi-Wan had to suffer the embarrassment of watching Qui-Gon and Cody’s mum tearfully looking at photos of them growing up, mourning the loss of their ‘little ones’. While Cody’s aunt sipped on her glass of red wine and cackled at them, saying it was better to have both her kids leave the nest at once, as she didn’t have to go through kids moving out more than once.

Cody had also been horrified to learn there existed a photo of him in an animal onesie after all, and to make it worse, he was four in the photo. He was at school, but because his mum wanted a picture of all her boys in their animal onesies, he had been put into his old lion onesie (mane included on the hood) that was getting too small for him. But it had interested him to see it was a group photo of all of them sat on the living room floor. Obi-Wan was also in the photo, in a onesie that resembled the fictional varactyl creature he had been obsessed with when he was four. His unimpressed look matching Cody’s, in the photo both of them had their arms crossed as they glared at their parents off camera. Wolffe and Fox were also in the photo, but too busy pulling on each other’s hoods, Wolffe almost taking off one of Fox’s onesie’s ears. Rex, at three, was happily beaming at their mum in his elephant onesie that included a small trunk attached to the hood. Leaning against Rex on his left was Anakin, who at two, was too busy trying to eat his own foot as he sat in his dog onesie. On Rex’s right was the little twins, Echo beaming at the camera in his giraffe onesie as he lifted a hand up to squeeze the felt face of the giraffe attached to the hood and Fives, in a moose onesie (seriously where had his parents found these?), was busy trying to grab one of his felt antlers and eat it. Apparently, their parents had kept all of the onesies, what they planned to do with them Cody couldn’t guess.

But while the onesie group photo had been embarrassing, it hadn’t put anyone off their food. No, that came when Cody’s dad asked all of them how university was going. Everyone listened as one by one, all the boys explained what they had been doing. The adults patiently listened as Cody, Obi-Wan, Wolffe and Fox talked about their dissertations and skilfully manoeuvring the conversation so as to avoid third year meltdowns as the families had taken to calling their tearful, stressed rants. While Rex, Anakin, Fives and Echo stared at them in dawning horror as they realised what was in their immediate future. Fox had given Cody advice on where to find primary sources, as Fox was writing his ten-thousand-word dissertation on the Black Death and at this point, was basically an expert on where to find medical documents from varying time periods. Which was immensely helpful for Cody because his dissertation was on the treatment of shell shock in the First World War.

Dinner seemed to then settle, with all the boys commenting on funny or interesting things they had heard at university. When Fox piped up, “I was reading a chapter for my dissertation when the author commented that they buried people who had died of the Black Death by lying down a layer of bodies, then a layer of soil, another layer of bodies, more soil, more bodies and then the final layer of soil. It was interesting that the author used the analogy of the bodies been buried like how you make a lasagne.”

Everyone stopped, many of the people gathered around the table stared at Fox, with forks paused in the air. Fox, oblivious continued to eat his dinner with a smile on his face. Which was lasagne. Wolffe just shook his head and sighed in exasperation as he stopped eating his portion of lasagne and instead reached for a piece of garlic bread. Obi-Wan, taking interest in the analogy, was asking Fox if he had come across any other analogies like it. Rex, Echo and Fives dropped their forks and looked at their food in faint disgust. Qui-Gon and Anakin, who normally didn’t find anything disgusting, looked down at the lasagne on their plates in muted horror. Cody’s parents and uncle just sighed, with his uncle massaging his forehead in exasperation, while Cody’s aunt lifted her wine glass up and saluted Fox with it before taking a sip (Fox was a lot like his mother). Cody raised an eyebrow at his cousin, Fox smirked and then reached for the serving dish in the centre of the table. “Oh, no one else wants anymore? Guess I’ll finish the lasagne up then,” Fox stated with a mock innocent look on his face. Wolffe just sighed again and thumped his head down onto the table. Leaving Cody with the impression that Fox was hungry and saw how quickly the food was disappearing and decided to take matters into his own hands.

As Cody and Obi-Wan walked out of the library holding hands, Cody turned to Obi-Wan and smirked. “It is safe to say, lasagne will not be on the menu.”

Obi-Wan laughed loudly as they made their way into the cold air outside, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. Obi-Wan also admitted that neither his father nor Anakin, had been able to eat lasagne since that dinner. Anakin had seen lasagne being served for lunch at the university one day and had practically fled the cafeteria.

Together they walked to the bus stop that was less than a minute walk from the library and sat in contented silence as they travelled from campus on the short bus journey to their flat. Their shoulders knocked gently together as they swayed as the bus pulled in and out of bus stops. Their hands were still clasped together, and Obi-Wan was looking out of the window with a smile on his face as he watched people go about their day. Cody found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Obi-Wan’s face, watching as his eyes crinkled as he smiled at the sight of a giggling child play peekaboo with their younger sibling. The bright winter sun turned Obi-Wan’s copper hair into flames and it was a sight that always memorised Cody without fail. It was the sight that led to four-year-old him talking to Obi-Wan on their first day at school because he had never seen someone with the same-coloured hair as Obi-Wan before. Cody only realised they had reached the bus stop they needed when Obi-Wan pressed the button to alert the driver to stop. He reached down for his kit bag and swung it up onto his shoulder, they walked off the bus, thanked the driver and continued walking while holding hands. Obi-Wan began to talk about a book he had had to read for one of his modules and while Cody never heard of the book before, he enjoyed seeing how excited Obi-Wan was about it.

Once they got inside their flat, Obi-Wan put his bag, that contained his laptop and some books, on the floor by the door and went into the kitchen. Cody watched him for a moment, glad to see Obi-Wan was distracted making them both some lunch. Cody sat at their table and turned his laptop on and logged into the website where he was creating a photobook of photos of himself and Obi-Wan throughout their lives as a birthday present. There were hundreds of photos of them together over the years they had known each other, there were photos of primary, secondary and sixth form last days. Seeing how they had changed in those years was endearing and funny at the same time. Cody caught Obi-Wan looking over at him and Cody playfully tilted his laptop screen away from Obi-Wan’s view, not that his boyfriend could see it from where he was anyway. Obi-Wan smiled and then turned back to the sandwiches he was making. Obi-Wan knew he was getting his birthday present, just as Cody was aware Obi-Wan was also organising his birthday present, as Obi-Wan’s birthday was two days before Cody’s.

Cody checked through the photobook one last time and then seeing that everything was as he wanted it, he clicked order and waited for the confirmation email to arrive. Once it had, he closed his laptop down and smiled as Obi-Wan, at that moment, walked up to him and handed him a plate with his sandwich and an apple.

“I love you,” Cody said with a smile.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes fondly, “ah yes. You only love me for my sandwich making skills.”

“You caught me!” chuckled Cody as he held his hands up in defence. They shared a smile and then both began eating their sandwiches in earnest. They chatted about friends from home who had gone to other universities or who went into work, the friends they had made in Manchester, the antics of crazy younger brothers and they also talked about if they wanted to do a Masters degree in their subject and if they did, where should they go? As it wasn’t a question about if they would go together, even if Obi-Wan decided to do a Masters and Cody didn’t, he was still going to move to whichever city Obi-Wan chose to go to for his Masters. But Cody was also liking the idea of doing a history Masters himself. “We could go to London. Wolffe and Fox are both going to do a Masters, we could go to uni with them.”

Obi-Wan frowned at him in amusement. “I thought you loved living in Manchester.”

“I do,” agreed Cody. “But I also want some peace from my brothers.” He added with a faked whining tone.

His boyfriend chuckled and then said. “You could apply to University of Manchester. So, you can stay in the city, but be in a different university to your brothers.”

Cody rolled his eyes. “As if that would stop them just turning up on Uni of’s campus,” he grumbled under his breath. He didn’t even think moving to the moon would stop his brothers from turning up to inconvenience him.

Obi-Wan just chuckled to himself as he shook his head, having to admit that going to Uni of would not stop Rex, Fives and Echo from turning up to see Cody. Within three weeks of starting the academic year, they had already worked out what rooms Cody had his seminars in and at what time they finished, so they could stand outside and wait for him. Despite Cody never once showing them his timetable.

After lunch, Cody began looking through some books for information he could add to his dissertation, while Obi-Wan turned his laptop on to work on one of his assignments. At the sound of an exasperated sigh, Cody looked up with one raised eyebrow to find Obi-Wan glaring at his laptop screen. “Problem?” he prompted lightly.

His boyfriend rolled his eyes and stated, “I hate this. We have a dissertation and other essays we need to complete that count towards our final degree. But then we are asked to write a two-thousand-word essay on the skills we have learnt doing our English degree and how those skills can help us in the workplace. While also having to give examples of jobs that use and need those skills.” Obi-Wan growled in frustration, “it is so pointless, but we have to do it otherwise we can be penalised if we don’t. But it’s wasting our time, we have other more important things to do.”

Cody grimaced and then reached out to squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand. “I totally get your frustration. We have been asked to do the exact same thing.”

Obi-Wan just groaned and thunked his head on the table, “I hate this. This is stress I do not need.” Cody smiled to himself and with his free hand, he ran his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair, gently scratching at his scalp with his nails.

When Obi-Wan had relaxed, Cody recalled the lecture when he had been told about the assignment and how the career’s department guest lecturer and one of his usual history lecturers asked for people to give examples of skills, they had learnt doing their degree. He must have laughed to himself, because Obi-Wan was turning his head, leaving his face resting against the table top, and gave him an unimpressed glare. “Are you laughing at my pain?”

“No,” soothed Cody, brushing the hair out of Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Just remembering what Bly said in our lecture about the skills we have learnt doing a history degree.”

“Care to share? It might help me out,” asked Obi-Wan.

Cody smirked, “we have learnt to deal with emotionally crippling pain.”

There was a pause, and then Obi-Wan was laughing, his shoulders shaking as he lifted his head up from the table and instead rested it against Cody’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s a good one. I wonder if I could get away with using it?” he mused.

“I have no idea. But like you, I am tempted to use it,” stated Cody, happy to see a bit of life back in Obi-Wan’s eyes. There was nothing more depressing that having to complete a pointless assignment when you had a hundred other things to do that actually mattered for your degree.

They made the collective decision to stop working for the rest of the day, they were both mentally tired and decided they could do with a break. So, they found a film to watch, which led to another film, which led to another, until it was time for them to eat dinner. After they had shared the cooking, eaten and then shared the washing up, they decided to have an early night. Seeing as they both had nine am lectures on campus and arranged to meet in the library afterwards before Cody’s meeting with his dissertation supervisor.

As they stretched out on their bed, Cody pulling Obi-Wan to half lay on top of him, their legs tangled together. Despite the early time of the evening, the warmth and the presence of each other led them both to become drowsy and their eyes flickered heavily.

“Good night Cody,” yawned Obi-Wan, his jaw cracking at the force of the yawn.

“G’night Obi. Love you,” Cody breathed out on a sigh, his eyes closing as he felt himself begin to drift.

“Love you Code,” mumbled Obi-Wan as he pressed his face into the crook of Cody’s neck. With his nose pressed into Obi-Wan’s hair, Cody pressed a kiss against Obi-Wan’s forehead and felt a kiss pressed against his neck in return. With a smile on his face, Cody drifted off into sleep, where university stress faded away until it captured his attention tomorrow, but for now, he was able to sleep peacefully with his boyfriend in his arms.

End note:

I would draw the photo of all the boys in their onesies, but alas I cannot draw so let the image live on in our imaginations.

Also I really enjoyed writing this AU, so if anyone wants to see more from it (including Rex, Fives, Echo, Wolffe, Fox and Anakin) let me know!

I went to Manchester Metropolitan University and as I loved it there so much, I chose to make it the setting for my AU for codywanweek. The road, buildings, halls and park are real places at the university and writing this fic has just made me want to go back there. I couldn’t come up with a degree for Cody so I just gave him my degree and dissertation focus (so yes there does exist a 10,000-word dissertation on the treatment of shell shock in WWI). At MMU we did call the University of Manchester Uni of, to differentiate between the two universities.

The Black Death lasagne analogy does actually exist in a historical book somewhere. I didn’t actually read it, but one of my flatmates in first year, who also did history, did. He was revising for one of our exams and he excitedly burst into the shared kitchen, saw me and geeked out over the funny analogy, we laughed about it, about how it was such a random analogy to use. (But after a few years I still remember it, so I guess it’s useful.) But then one of our other flatmates, who wasn’t studying history, turned around and complained at us, because she was in the process of making lasagne for her dinner. So, the reactions to Fox’s gleeful explanation of the analogy are based on truth. Our flatmate didn’t want to eat her dinner because of us. As I was writing this fic, the analogy popped back into my head and I felt it would be such a Fox thing to say.

Cody’s line of “we have learnt to deal with emotionally crippling pain” during a career’s lecture. Is something that I heard said in a career’s lecture I had to sit through in my second year. So again, something else in this fic that is based on truth.

#codywanweek2021 #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #codywan #star wars fic #day 2: AU #modern university au #commander fox #commander wolffe #captain rex #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #anakin skywalker

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Idle Chat with Gavin

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

The CN server was recently graced with a new feature called 随便聊聊 (“Idle Chat”), where you can select a mood and talk to the love interests about work, life, and studies :>

Idle Chat with: Kiro / Lucien / Shaw / Victor

[ WORK - Topic 1: Overtime ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Yay! I don’t have to work overtime today! Want to have a sumptuous meal together?

Gavin: Good timing. I’m off shift today

Gavin: Apart from eating

Gavin: We can find other things to do.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’m sorry I’m sorry. I might reach an hour late today. I have to work overtime suddenly to handle something...

Gavin: It’s okay

Gavin: I’ll come over to accompany you during that one hour. That way, you won’t be considered late.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I really don’t want to work overtime any longer. I’ve been sleeping right after getting home for so many consecutive days, and have absolutely no personal time...

Gavin: Have you been sleeping well?

Gavin: Once you’re done with this busy period, let’s go for a long vacation together.

[ WORK - Topic 2: Income ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I had a shock when I checked the accounts. Without realising it, I’ve saved so much money! It shows that persevering in financial management is very useful!

Gavin: I find it very useful too.

Gavin: When I was young, I’d put my future into a savings box

Gavin: Now, I’ll put my future into our hands.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Why is it always so easy to spend money, but so difficult to earn it

Gavin: Mm, I also wonder about this question...

Gavin: Want to do up a plan to save money together?

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Barely ten minutes after being happy about payday, several notification messages for arrears arrived! I shouldn’t have purchased so many things last month!

Gavin: This month, I’ll be your shopping supervisor.

Gavin: If there’s anything you want to buy, let me know.

[ WORK - Topic 3: Program Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Do you still remember the program I talked to you about before? After persistent hard work, we managed to secure a partnership!

Gavin: I remember

Gavin: Back then, you said you wouldn’t give up

Gavin: I’m also very happy to see that you didn’t give up.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: There hasn’t been any progress in the recent program... All inspiration has been expended, and our operations have also been exhausted...

Gavin: Want to go for a short trip with me over the weekend?

Gavin: To refresh your inspiration and motivation.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: The data provided by the partner is absurd! If I were to go along with them, nothing would be done!

Gavin: In that case, give them an absurd proposal

Gavin: They’ll know where they’ve gone wrong.

[ WORK - Topic 4: Program Results ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: This program was successfully approved! I think my incredibly~ superb proposal was one of the contributory factors! We can officially start working on it tomorrow!

Gavin: Will you be busy from tomorrow onwards then?

Gavin: If you need to work overtime during this period

Gavin: Remember to call me.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Is the work produced for the other party really okay... Even if it gets approved, there still seems to be something missing

Gavin: The MC I know is a persistent and confident girl

Gavin: No one can deny your accomplishments.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: When will the program finally get approved! There are seventeen versions stuffed in my file!!!

Gavin: A senior from the Task Force once told me a technique to examining clues

Gavin: List down the mistakes made in the previous seventeen versions

Gavin: And you’ll have new inspiration.

💙

[ LIFE - Topic 1: Losing Weight ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Did you notice anything different about me today? I’ll give you three seconds to think about it! Forget it, I think you might not have been able to see it...

Gavin: Cough, I could tell. You’ve lost weight.

Gavin: But it wasn’t because of what I saw. I used another method to determine it.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Should I reach a compromise with my weight? I’ve been losing weight then gaining weight - it feels like a waste of time.

Gavin: There’s no need to lose weight

Gavin: No matter what, you’ll always be the best-looking in my eyes

Gavin: ...mm, but exercise is still needed.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I shouldn’t have gone for the dinner party yesterday! When I weighed myself today, I really became heavier by 1kg!

Gavin: It shows that you’ve gained 1kg of happiness yesterday

Gavin: Let it get absorbed into your body.

[ LIFE - Topic 2: Meals ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I accidentally bought too much... I don’t think I need so many vegetables since I’m cooking for myself...

Gavin: In that case, could you leave me a share?

Gavin: I’ll pay for the food expenses

Gavin: Mm, and I’ll also be responsible for washing the dishes and being an assistant.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I bought the snack which is especially popular on the internet. But when I ate it, I didn’t think it was great. Has my taste become disconnected with the masses?

Gavin: Taste is something personal

Gavin: Want to head out together today?

Gavin: We’ll find snacks that you and I both find delicious

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I made an absolutely perfect bento for lunch at work, but my hand slipped when taking it out of the microwave and it all fell out!

Gavin: Did you scald your hand?

Gavin: Let’s have dinner together.

Gavin: To make up for the regret of not being able to eat your absolutely perfect bento.

[ LIFE - Topic 3: Reading ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The science fiction book I read today is really interesting! It’s also especially rich in imagination. I think you’ll like the style as well!

Gavin: All right.

Gavin: But I’ve been busy with missions these days, so I might not have time to read

Gavin: I’ve noted down the name of the book. I’ll tell you my thoughts after reading it.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I was looking for spiritual comfort when I came across a book on philosophy. In the end, I think I’ve become even more perplexed by the world... Have you felt this way too?

Gavin: Mm, there are times I’m perplexed by the world too

Gavin: But once I think about you, I’ll feel calmer.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Today, I borrowed a murder mystery novel from the library. Some unreasonable reader wrote the name of the murderer directly on the first page!!

Gavin: ...

Gavin: That’s really going overboard.

Gavin: Try treating it as backwards reasoning, and observe the process.

[ LIFE - Topic 4: Games]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’ve finally defeated that difficult boss! I was even thinking that if I failed again, I’d refer to the guide. I didn’t expect to beat it!

Gavin: That level is really difficult

Gavin: I only managed to defeat it after reading the guide

Gavin: You’re very strong - a first-rate gamer.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I think I’ve outgrown the age of game addiction. I just feel like leaving once I go online. I can’t find anything interesting...

Gavin: Maybe you just temporarily lack motivation towards this game

Gavin: Want to try a new game?

Gavin: Minor recommended a multi-player game involving solving riddles

Gavin: I think you should like it.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I met a cheater in the game again! People who ruin the experience of the game are so annoying! It makes me feel like giving up on the game...

Gavin: Report him.

Gavin: People who contravene the rules are being played by the game

Gavin: And not playing the game.

💙

[ SCHOOL - Topic 1: Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The method you taught me is really effective! Today, I finally overcame the temptation to slack off, and successfully completed my task!

Gavin: There are many methods

Gavin: You don’t necessarily have to use the one I taught you

Gavin: But if you can get used to it, it shows that you have a lot of potential.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I’d rather doodle on paper or stare into space than look at the textbook... I’m a girl who’s tired of studying T-T

Gavin: It’s already late - don’t force yourself to read the textbook

Gavin: The girl who’s tired of studying should become a girl who sleeps early

Gavin: That way, she can become a diligent girl tomorrow.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: There are only ten more days till the end of the course, and my learning progress has just begun...

Gavin: There are still ten days

Gavin: Which means there are 240 hours, 14400 minutes

Gavin: If you look at it this way, there’s still time.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 2: Homework ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The teacher actually complimented me today. Even though all she said was that my work is neat... I’m still very happy!

Gavin: Even back then, your handwriting was always delicate and neat

Gavin: Just like you as a person.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I can’t help but find excuses to slack off whenever I scan through the questions. I just scanned through five minutes worth of video clips...

Gavin: And now you’ve slacked off by sending me 25 words.

Gavin: Be a little more focused.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Even though there isn’t much homework in each course, when you put them together, it’s basically WAY. TOO. MUCH.

Gavin: When I was in school, I also felt that there was a lot of homework

Gavin: So I would prioritise the easier questions first...

Gavin: It isn’t a special method, but you can try it.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 3: Pre-exam Revision ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Today, I memorised all the examinable points. Tomorrow, I’ll be entering the battlefield. Everything has been prepared - all I’m missing is a little bit of courage from you!

Gavin: All right, give me your hand.

Gavin: I have a lot of courage,

Gavin: And I can give it all to you, the one stepping into the battlefield tomorrow.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Although I’ve looked through all the examinable points, I still feel unsure and uneasy...

Gavin: Don’t be anxious. Since you’re done with revision, rest early

Gavin: Tomorrow, I’ll send you to the examination venue.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: It’s too difficult, it’s way too difficult. I really shouldn’t have registered for this class. I still can’t memorise anything when it’s almost the exam...

Gavin: I’ll bring you out for a ride in a while

Gavin: You can share all your grievances and stress with the wind.

[ SCHOOL - Topic 4: Post-exam celebration]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: My exam is over! I’ve been freed! And my results were much better than expected!

Gavin: You know your results immediately?

Gavin: Congratulations

Gavin: I’m outside the exam venue. Sparky and I are waiting for you.

2. Mood: Upset

MC: A weight has been lifted off my shoulders since the exam is over. Even though I planned so many celebratory activities, I don’t feel like doing them now...

Gavin: If you don’t have any ideas

Gavin: Leave the planning to me.

Gavin: Wait for me at the entrance of the examination venue. I’ll be there soon.

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I’m so angry! I shouldn’t have compared answers with other people! I feel unwell after doing that...

Gavin: Did you get many answers wrong?

Gavin: Since the examination is already over

Gavin: You could alleviate your anger and hunger with me.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #just gavin being prime husband material

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mothdalf · 4 years

Text

DAY TWO: Findis and Írimë Lalwen

@finweanladiesweek

So this mainly focuses on the relationship between Findis and Fëanor rather than Lalwen but I’ll get to her later in the week.

Pics in order are:

Fëanor and baby Findis, Findis finally snapping at Fëanor, Findis and Lalwendë, and Findis gathering herbs for Estë in the Gardens of Lorien.

I’ve put todays rant under the cut but I’d recommend reading it because it really gives the pictures context.

As mentioned in my previous post Fëanáro is like the equivalent of a pre teen (like 10-12) when Finwë marries Indis, and he elects to travel for his studies rather than living with them full time.

He is a young teen when he gets a letter to tell him that he’s going to be a brother, and to say that he takes it badly is putting it mildly. He’s crushed. He’s been angry that his father is (at least in his mind) trying to replace his mother, but now he’s going to replace him? So he doesn’t send a letter back and throws himself into every distraction because he’s going to make damn sure that he’s better than anyone his father tries to replace him with.

Finwë turns up and half begs half drags him home in time to meet his sister the baby. He doesn’t want to and turns up to the nursery (not his old one) in his traveling clothes before being promptly turned around and told to put on something clean at least.

He plans to give a quick glance into the crib (also not his) and a curt “congratulations” before returning to his room to sulk. But it doesn’t pan out like that.

Because his new sister is perfect. Not that Fëanor has been around many children but he’s sure that she must be the most perfect one ever.

Later he will try and rationalise this to himself by pointing out that she’s so different to him that she could never be a replacement. For one, she’s a girl, he’s still his fathers only son, but even aside from that; she has green eyes and golden hair and long Vanyar ears. Nothing like him. Not a substitute. There can be enough room for them both. That’s why he likes her.

Whatever the reason, she’s beautiful, every tiny detail from her fluffy golden hair to her grasping, miniature fingers. So what he says is more of a strangled “wow” after a long pause.

Indis asks if he would like to hold her and sees a beaming smile on Fëanor’s face that she never thought would be directed at her.

He hesitates at first because he realises he’s faced (for the first time in a long time) with something he doesn’t know how to do. But Indis points him to a chair and places Findis in his arms, hands gentle as she positions them.

He coos to her instinctively and she squirms and wiggles and blinks up at him. That’s the moment Fëanor decides he’s going to have kids of his own someday, as many as possible.

Indis is surprised when he breaks the silence and addresses her “well done,” he says without looking up “she’s wonderful, perfect”

The phrasing is a little strange but Indis understands; he’s complimenting her on craftsmanship, for all their differences he’ll always acknowledge that.

It’s quiet again until someone comes to call him away for supper. Fëanor kisses Findis’ head before passing her back and, almost shyly, asks if he can come back to see her later.

So Findis spends the first few years of her life with an adoring big brother. He sends her gifts from his travels, or things he’s made, and dotes on her when he’s home.

Everything is great for a while, so no one is worried when Finwë and Indis announce they’re expecting their second child, not even Fëanor. But things don’t work out that way.

This post isn’t about Fëanor and Fingolfin though.

Fëanor gets distant. His vitriol for Fingolfin doesn’t extend to Lalwen and Finarfin but neither does his soft spot for Findis.

For her part Findis struggles with the tension. When she’s older her parents explain the situation, her heart aches for her big brother. She loves all of her siblings and she hates the atmosphere so she spends most of the time playing peacekeeper. She thinks it’s ridiculous for someone older than her to have such a problem with a child, especially one she herself loves so much. It’s much better when Fëanor is away, but she misses him.

So like her mother in looks and temper, Findis is composed and calm and shoulders the burden of trying to keep them all happy.

Fëanáro is now a young adult and an apprentice under Mahtan, so he’s not around that much, but when he is the fights are always the same. This time however something he says clicks for Findis.

“So that’s it, the reason you hate him and like me? Because he’s a threat and I’m not? You only like me because you’re glad I wasn’t a boy! I wasn’t important enough to be a problem for you!”

Fëanor being Fëanor it devolves into a screaming match. It ends with Findis swearing to show him how much of a threat she can be. She’s going to be better than him at something one day, just you wait and see.

She tries for a long time to find that something. It’s never going to be any craft with her hands and they’re pretty evenly matched musically, so she tries politics, that should really make her a threat.

Findis reads everything she can from the library, asks her father 100 questions a day, attends councils and meetings. She learns a lot, planning to catch Fëanor out one day, call him out for something in front of the council, actually oppose him. Only that day doesn’t come. Fëanor hasn’t quite gotten to the point that we know he’ll eventually reach, so Findis can’t find anything to actually oppose him on at the moment. Frustrated, and getting more bored by the day, she draws back from politics.

Around this time Indis is planning a trip to visit the Gardens of Lorien (read, Miriel), and asks her eldest to come with her, lightly hinting that it will be good for her to get away.

It’s during this trip that Findis finds exactly what she wants to do. She sees how happy her mother is to be able to be close to Vaire again (see my last post about how Indis is a devotee of Vaire) and starts to seriously consider doing the same. Fëanor would never do that.

But when she sees the Maiar and Elven devotees of Lorien and Este, the (admittedly very few) tired or injured people finding rest and care and peace there, she knows in her heart that this is for her. Findis will be a healer.

She goes to Este immediately to apply to join her followers.

Este denies her. She has no more knowledge or experience of healing than the basic studies of her youth. Yes, the work they do here is usually routine and calm, but before devoting her eternal life to it, Findis should really try to think whether healing is for her. Can she handle injuries? Blood? Has she ever seen someone in pain? Really in pain? Not a younger sibling tripping and grazing their knee, but a hunter thrown by a spooked horse? A smith burned in the forge? Did she watch her mother give birth to her younger siblings? Did she hear the screams?

She hasn’t, Findis acknowledges, but she’s more than willing to learn.

She journeys home to Tirion without her mother to begin her studies. She starts at the bottom, back to reading books she can barely understand, stubbornly pestering the healers guild with letters until she can find a teacher. She attends lectures and eventually demonstrations with other students, usually far younger, in plain clothes, and most politely pretend that they don’t know who she is. She dissects animals and identifies what she sees. Bundles all of her scrolls and papers and books on politics into a cupboard and starts refilling her study with labelled diagrams, notes from lectures, samples of herbs.

The books start to make a lot more sense.

For some time each year she visits Estë again, just as a volunteer. She also visits Valimar and Alqualond�� to learn from healers outside of the Noldor.

She starts to practice, assisting more experienced healers, in between lectures.

She joins a healer on a trip to the forest of Oromë; and returns with no fear of blood or broken bones, unbothered by a piercing arrow wound or the black bruises of a kick from Nahar.

There’s a drive in Findis now that was never there for politics, she’s all but forgotten that this started as a way to stand out against her brother. There’s a burning passion and a satisfaction to what she does. Her mother smiles and says that it’s the Noldor blood coming through.

Findis starts to come into her own with herb-lore and medicines. She commandeers an area of the palace gardens for medicinal plants. Writes report after report, learns to administer what and when and how. She’s almost settled on this as her focus when she is asked to assist her current supervisor with the birth of a baby.

She knows the theory. She’s recommended certain herbs and supplements to expecting mothers. She has vague memories of her younger siblings just after they were born. But this is different. This is her focus. So she switches track, asking questions of her tutors and colleagues. Requesting to assist with births wherever she can. She seeks female healers, midwives, and the input of her mother and her friends with children of their own. She makes notes and studies of their experiences.

Findis excels. Eventually becoming a healer in her own right. Only then does she approach Estë again. For something special this time. Yes, she appeals to join Estë’s devotees, but she wants to keep her focus on women, and pregnancy, and birth. She learns even more now, the Noldor passion propping her up as she learns that Vanyar ways of healing song from the Ainur.

Often, she visits the body of (Auntie) Miriel. She asks for stories of her fading from those in Lorien, seeks the insight of Estë, Irmo, and Nienna, and finally questions her parents. Piecing things together, she reaches out to other mothers- those who she attended at birth, her friends, those whose children she’s treated. She asks them about their experiences, asking them to be honest, to fear no judgement and feel no shame. Did they ever feel as Míriel did?

Some did, some didn’t. Either way she assures them that they are not alone. Over years she builds notes and papers and case studies as she works and follows her path in the Gardens of Lorien.

Findis becomes revered and respected for her work.

One day she gets a letter from her brother, he’s heard about her work, inspired by his mother. He asks if he could read it, so she invites him and Nerdanel to Lorien, so that he can read her papers. When they arrive it’s clear why he wants to do this now. Fëanor is afraid that his wife will share his mother’s fate at the birth of their first son.

Before they go home they get a lot of assurance, a list of recommendations, and signs to watch out for, all courtesy of Findis and her research. She promises to be there if they have any questions, and to assist in the birth personally.

Her brother embraces her for a long time before he leaves. He tells her how grateful he is for her help, how much more peacefully he will sleep now. Fëanor has never been happier that his sister out did him at something, and Findis has never felt less competitive. Healing, she thinks, is about always learning and getting better. Smithing, she supposes, is much the same.

#my art #tolkien #the silmarillion #noldor #yott more like yeet #Vanyar #Findis #Fëanor #siblings #listen I had no idea where this was going #but Findis is a magical obgyn #finweanladiesweek #house of finwe

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itgetsdarksometimes35 · 4 years

Text

The God and his Muse

Warnings: Non con, dub con, forced pregnancy, breeding kink, anal sex, spanking if you squint, innocent reader, 18+

Word Count: 3,707

Pairings: Dark!Thor X Innocent!Reader

Summary: Reader is an innocent little journalist that’s too sweet for this world. At least, that’s what Thor thinks.

Prompts: 2, 6, 7, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 17, 19, 21, 23

- indicates a POV change

~ indicates a time change

A/N: This is a very late entry to @searchforanotherway challenge. I am going to up load another challenge I’m late for tomorrow and another one that’s due on the 31st on Wednesday so I’m caught up. I hope you guys enjoy! :)

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Earth was different. The people, the food, the drinks. The way people thought, dressed, the history. It was all so strange. At least, that’s all Thor thought. This tiny little planet filled with things that mattered so little in the grand scheme of things. Yet that’s where he found himself. He fought battle after battle here, had friends here, yet he couldn’t understand the way people behaved. So where did he go to learn? The library. That’s where he came to find out that’s where people went to learn. He went to the library with the cafe inside, it smelled good and had his favorite Earth drinks. He checked out books and read them, sometimes learning other times becoming more confused.

One day while going in he saw her. Earth wasn’t filled with many people who managed to catch his eye, he always saw himself marrying an Asgardian warrior. That was more his style. But this girl, curled up on a lounge in the library reading a book, looked so peaceful made his heart stop. She was so beautiful. He had to know her, he had to be with her.

He looked to the book in her hands, he had read it. Lord of the Flies. It had disturbed him, but it helped him to understand the system that the people of Earth needed to keep from going barbaric. He supposed there was no God to just lock them in ice forever if someone were to misbehave.

“I love that book” Thor said walking up to the girl with his own book and vanilla latte coffee in his hand. The girl looked up at him and smiled brightly. So sweet.

“Yeah? I don’t know how I feel yet. It seems good, but I also don’t think there’s much to learn from it.”

“How so?”

“Well, the point seems to be that we need a hierarchy to keep balance, a set of laws that everyone must follow to keep away from chaos. I already knew that. I’d hope everyone does.”

“I think that book is more relevant now than ever. People seem to forget that laws are there for a reason. Crime is spiking, it’s not safe. Not that it ever was, but it certainly was never this bad. My grandpa spoke of a time that people could leave their doors unlocked and let their kids go out for hours without worrying. Now kids are at risk when they’re with their parents.”Thor thought about all the times Steve talked his ears off about his day, it seemed to be coming in handy for once.

The girl thought for a while, her nose scrunching a bit while she thought. Finally her smile returned and she looked to him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m Y/n”

“Thor.” He set his books down to shake the girl’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Months went by and Y/n and Thor talked more and more. He was becoming obsessed with her presence and he sought it more and more. He wanted her to move in with him, wanted her to quit her job so that he could be around her more and she could bend to his schedule a lot easier. He sensed her discomfort and she became a bit standoffish. It hurt to think she wouldn’t love him anymore or that she wouldn’t want to be his wife one day. They weren’t even dating, but he knew she was the one. He started a plan that would ensure their future together, he needed to do what was best for them. What was best for her. After all, this world wasn’t safe.

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Your phone buzzed while you typed away at your computer. Just a few more edits and this week’s article would be ready to publish. You worked for a magazine and got the majority of your work done during the day at your office, but sometimes had to bring it home with you. It was a lot of work finding correct sources, arranging interviews, and typing it all out. You didn’t work for some website that was all about “how to get the perfect smokey eye,” you worked for a magazine that was borderline news. It got you into trouble sometimes, not everyone likes their dirt thrown out there for all to see, but you liked it. You didn’t tell petty stories, you told stories that got predators out of the schools they worked in, got politicians arrested for stealing money from the citizens. Things like that. Your phone buzzed again and you looked at the time. 10:42. You decided to call it a day and finish first thing tomorrow morning and turn it in to Jodi, your supervisor.

You unlocked your phone to see two missed calls from Thor. You rolled your eyes and set your phone down, heading into the bathroom to shower. It wasn’t that Thor wasn’t nice, it’s just he couldn’t take a hint. Your job asked for a lot of your attention right now, and he didn’t seem to get that. Even when you explained it. You weren’t even dating and you felt suffocated.

You turned the water on and let the steam fill the room while you hummed to yourself while you undressed and stepped into the shower. You let the heated water cascade down your body and ease the tight muscles. Your hands hurt from all the typing you did and your shoulders hurt from hunching over. You popped open the bottle of your honey body wash and put it on the fluffy luffa. Suds covered your body as you massaged the body wash onto your body.

You finished your shower and wrapped yourself in a fluffy white towel. You opened the bathroom door and the cool air wafted around you, causing chill bumps to rise on your skin. You stepped onto the cold wooden floor of your apartment and made your way to your room. As you took a night shirt and underwear out, you saw it was raining outside. No, raining wasn’t right. It was storming. That’s strange you thought while walking over to closing the window, it wasn’t raining 30 minutes ago. You dressed yourself and then climbed into the bed. Thunder flashed outside and you got up to close the curtains, thunderstorms always scared you. Right as you were turning away to get back to bed, thunder rang again and your window crashed open. You saw a white flash before everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your head pounded as you started to wake up. It was Saturday, you didn’t have to go into the office but you did have to finish your editing. That article is due tomorrow. You opened your eyes and immediately froze. This wasn’t your room. The night before floods back to you, but nothing is coming to mind. The thunderstorm, but then what? Didn’t you get back to bed? What the hell happened?

You looked around the room you were in. It was huge and the art looked like they were painted for kings. A white wardrobe with golden details graced a corner in the room and the doors in the room held the same decor. You looked at the bed you were now sitting up in and realized the bed matched the set. The marble floor held your reflection just like the mirror on the vanity near one of the doors, probably the bathroom, did. This room alone looked like it was ripped from a magazine about how the wealthy lived. You couldn’t afford it even in your wildest dreams.

You hear footsteps behind the door to your left before the golden handle jiggles. You prepare for the worst as the door is pushed open. In walks Thor with his blonde hair and gorgeous eyes. His outfit looks like a costume and in his hands he holds a hammer. He looks to you and he smiles.

“Good morning, dear. Sleep well?” Thor asks sweetly with his accent you’d never been able to place. He stalks in before shutting the door and crossing to the bed to sit down.

“Thor? Where am I?” Thor sets the hammer he held down on the floor before turning all the way to you, his hand moving up to set the hair out of your face. You cringe away at his acts of eerie calmness.

“Asgard. Your new home.”

You looked to him confused. “Asgard? Wh- that’s not a real place, where am I? This isn’t funny, please, Thor.” You start to freak out. Thor wasn’t making any sense. He kidnapped you and he brought you to wherever you were and he was in a Party City costume. He had lost his mind.

“It is. It’s my home realm, I guess you could call it. I’m the God of Thunder,” He lifted his hammer, “and future king. You shall be my queen, and a fine queen you’ll make.” He smiled to you again as you shook your head. Realm? God? You had to get out of here.

“Thor, I have to leave.”

“Leave? Honey what’s wrong? Don’t you like your new home?”

You were getting agitated, Thor wasn’t listening to you and he was acting insane. This wasn’t your home, he wasn’t a God or king, and you certainly wasn’t going to be his queen. Especially not of some mystical place, this wasn’t the time to be playing make believe.

You took a deep breath, if journalism taught you anything it was being freaking out in a moment it was all too dire to be calm in wasn’t going to help anyone. Especially not yourself. “Thor, I am begging you. Let me go, I’m not going to be your queen. Asgard isn’t real, what you’ve done is illegal. Just let me go and I won’t tell anyone…” You calmly stated while slowly moving, if you acted fast you could make it to the door.

Thor’s smile faded. “You’re meant to be mine, y/n, whether you realize it or not. Back at the cafe, I knew you were the one who’d lead my people at my side.”

“No Thor, it wasn’t like that.”

“But I’ve seen the way you’ve smiled at me! You wanted me!”

You shook your head, it was an argument with a brick wall. You smiled at someone and was kind and now it’s just okay to kidnap you? Thor turned from you to look around the room. “I built this for you. For us. I was never one for decor but I called everyone I knew to help. The day I met you I knew you were the one, I just can’t believe you’re actually here. You can even help decorate if there’s something you don’t like.”

As Thor continues rambling you were slowly easing out of bed and toward the door. There had to be somebody else here, so even if you don’t make it far, let’s face it you probably wouldn’t with those powerful legs that supported Thor, at least you could scream for somebody to help you. Your hand had just touched the kbob when Thor turned and looked to you.

“Y/n, you better come back here on the count of three...two…” He was starting to rise but it was too late, you had thrown the door open and you were booking it down the long hallway. You had no idea where you were going but you were going. Still in just an over sized night shirt and panties the cool night breeze whipped at your legs as you flew by. The halls had tall windows where you could see outside. You must’ve been asleep for a long time because you definitely wasn’t in New York anymore. Your mind threatened to wander to you truly being in Asgard and Thor being truthful but you shook the thought out and pressed on.

You got to double doors and looked behind you to see Thor was coming from behind a corner, his face hard with anger. You quickly pulled the heavy doors open and squeezed out into the night. There was a long bridge in front of you and below that was water. You looked up and saw tall mountains and a sky that was breathtaking. Where were you? The doors behind you groaned as they were being pushed open further and you pressed on, running harder than before. Your efforts were fruitless as you were hit in the back and fell to the ground. You look back to see the hammer Thor carried magically levitating back to him.

You turned on your hands and knees, fear and shock painted your face, and made to get up again. Thor came up and grabbed you, hauling you over his shoulder.

“No! Help, somebody please!” You kicked and screamed, punching Thor’s back so you’d be released. “Thor stop, let me go!”

Thor spanked your ass causing you to whimper in protest. “Stop screaming, you dirty slut. You’re tricking no one with that act.” The word stung, you couldn’t lie. The man you had come to know was sweet. Overbearing, but sweet. Never would you guess he’d cause this to happen to you or ever call you such a vulgar name. The tears threatened to spill as Thor carried you into the tall castle and back to the room you’d awoken in.

Thor threw you onto the bed and spun to shut the door. He set his hammer down in front of it. “To keep you from escaping.” He started to grab at his clothing, pulling it off to reveal his muscles. Your eyes widened and you pressed yourself farther away from him. Thor smirked at your efforts. “Don’t worry, honey. I promise, after tonight, you’ll never escape again. I have rules that I expect you to follow, number one is no running. I will catch you and it just wastes both of our time” How he switched from sweet to agressive back to sweet had your head spinning. “Number two, don’t try to hurt me, I’m your lover and I’ll be treated as such. Number three, listen to me. I am your king and God, I know what’s best. And lastly, the given of course is that you will give me many heirs. Not too many rules, is there darling?” You shook your head. “Good. Just remember, I will hurt you if you don’t do what I say.” You were shaking. Heirs? Rules? What kind of fucked up nightmare realm had you just stepped into?

Thor continued to undress and soon he was in nothing more than his boxers. He palmed himself through the thin fabric while making his way to you. He reached for your shirt and tore it right down the middle, leaving you in your underwear. Your tits bounced from the force of the rip and Thor’s eyes flew to your chest. His tongue swept over his bottom lip as his eyes blew out in lust. Your eyes blurred with tears. “Thor no, don’t do this. I’m still…”

Thor’s eyes traveled to yours and he smiled. “I know you are. Don’t worry I’ll take care of you” He reached for panties and easily ripped them from you, exposing yourself to him. He groaned and you saw his member twitch in his confines. Thor reached down and started stroking himself again before pulling his underwear down and pulling you closer. You were shaking your head while tears flew wild. “Shhh, its okay. Just open your legs. I promise this won’t hurt.”

Thor set your legs on each of his hips and he lined himself at your untried center. He rubbed the head against your clit and it was then you realized how wet you were. “See? Already so good for me.” Thor’s praises struct your body in a way that you weren’t familiar with as he slowly inched in. Your body jerked in response to the slight burn and you hissed out in pain. “You’ll feel so good after this. Just let me…” Thor pushed deeper into you, coming to your fleshy barrier. He stopped for a moment before leaning over you, his lips hovering over yours whispering, “I love you so much.” Before crashing his lips to yours. Thor distracted you with his tongue while his hips thrust forward, causing you to cry into his mouth. He continued his assault on your mouth while his finger danced it’s way down your hot skin and to your tiny bud of nerves, rubbing it slightly. Your hips jerked up into his hand while you moaned out, separating your mouths so the sound echoed in the room. Your head hit the pillow while Thor continued hovering above you. “Yeah, feels good now doesn’t it? Wasn’t so bad, I told you I’d make you feel good.”

Thor continued fucking up into you while his finger worked harder and faster, chasing your release. Your head was floating on cloud nine, never had you been able to bring such pleasure to your life before. Your moans were mixing with his grunts as he got faster and faster. “I’m so close to coming. Oh I can’t wait to fill up your belly.” You squeezed around Thor’s thick cock as he thrusted a few more times before you crashed over the edge. Your eyes shut as you screamed out in ecstasy. Your back arched and your body shook, trying to recover.

Thor growled while hooking his hand under your shoulder, pumping himself deeper into you, trying to find his own euphoria. “Oh shit, I’m cumming baby, I’m summing.” Thor pushed in to his limit and stayed as you felt warm spurts fill your tummy. He moaned your name in your ear while his balls clenched and unclenched in his release. He stayed within you for a moment, enjoying your warmth and breathing into your neck. He wiggled his hips before pulling out and laying next to you, a smile playing at his lips.

“Our baby will be so beautiful. I hope it’s a girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nine months you had been living here in Asgard with Thor. A few days after your first night with him you two were wed in front of the entire kingdom. A few weeks later he announced a royal pregnancy. Your belly was growing and was ever prominent in the dresses Thor ordered you to wear. He had become very enraptured in your pregnancy, never giving you a night to rest when you started to show. He wanted others to see it too.

Today you were in trouble. Deep trouble. Thor invited his friends to come and meet you and have dinner; it would’ve been okay had he not failed to tell you of his little party. You hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and you were stressed due to the large group of people, so you lashed out at him in front of everyone when he asked you to dance with him, ignoring your constant complaints of you being tired and sore. You quickly apologized, but Thor was already angry. He went about the party normally and you were on edge for the rest of the night, what awaited you when the last guest left was something you worried about.

You tried to keep Valkyrie, the last guest, in the doors for as long a possible. Thor stepped in and ushered her to the door, saying how you both needed to rest.

“Oh yes, you two won’t be getting much of that once baby girl is born.” She said with a wink, stepping out of the door. Thor’s laugh boomed around the empty dinner hall while he said goodbye to his close friend. He shut the door with a loud thud before turning on you. You gulped as he made giant steps toward you.

“Bedroom. Now.”

You scrambled from your chair and took quick steps to the bedroom. Thor was hot on your heels as he shut you in, locking the door behind him. He inched closer to you like a fox does a lamb while you backed up.

“Now darling, you know the rules,” he tsked at you, this wasn’t the first time you’d broken the rules. It always ended with a sore bottom. “But it seems my normal punishment doesn’t work with you, so, how should I punish you this time?”

You were blabbering the word no as you tried to scoot away from Thor, but he easily caught your arms and bent you over your vanity, making sure not to harm your pregnant stomach. You continued to try to wiggle free but it wasn’t until he brought his thumb to your tight ring of muscles that you stopped all together. Your head shot up and you strained to look behind you, he had never done that before. Thor swiftly unfastened his pants and took his throbbing cock out, lining it at your sacred and untried hole. You squirmed more but knew it was hopeless. You would never win with him. Thor pressed himself to you and pushed in. The burn was far worse than anything you had ever felt and you cried out in pain. Your hips helplessly pressed to the vanity trying to free yourself from this pain, but Thor just pushed in more. He was hissing from the way you squeezed him.

“God, baby, you’re so tight for me. Always so good…”

Tears were sliding down your face as you sobbed into the cold marble of the vanity, praying he’d be done soon. Thor thrusted into you, stretching your asshole to fit his godly girth. He pumped himself a few times before cumming in your ass. He pulled out of you, grabbing you before you can slide to the ground. He picked you up and laid on the bed, your backside aching from the abuse.

Thor pulled you to him while caressing your hair and back. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. Sleep, you need the energy.” He pulled you closer to him. “Any day now, and our child will finally be born. I can’t wait for us to finally be a family. You’ll be such a wonderful mother.” You continue to silently sob and Thor’s breath started to even out in slumber. The world is an unsafe place, and you were learning from it first hand.

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@jtargaryen18

#aw!dark!ficchallenge #dub con #non con #dark!thor #dark!thorodinson #dark!thor x reader #dark!thorodinson x reader #dark!thor x innocent!reader #dark!thorodinson x innocent!reader #dark!marvel #dark!mcu

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laheyyisaac · 4 years

Text

Overdue

chapter 1 — american legion

SUMMARY: Guinevere Bailey just moved to McKinney, TX in order to figure out her life. She meets Captain Hank Syverson at the local library, and she finds out she might have bitten off more than she can chew. PAIRING: Syverson x OFC WORD COUNT: 1299 A/N: hii! first fic here! just now starting. i’m going to be making a graphic for it if i can when i get back to my computer back home. inspired and encouraged by @promptandpros, so this first chapter’s for you, babe. thanks so so much to @alyxkbrl for reading over this one! if you’d like to be added to my tags list, please IM or inbox me! TAGS: @promptandpros @alyxkbrl @completelybonkersentirelymad @mylifefallingupthestairs @kissthatlifeaway @dangerouslovefanfic PART 2

“Where’s Carly-Jean? Gwen, have you seen her?”

Guinevere Bailey glanced up from her cart of books, eyes wide as she sat down the one she was shelving. She shook her head, and her coworker nodded, zipping off to the next person. It had been a long day today, mostly filled with library patrons who were less than excited about some new feature they had rolled out.

She had worked at her little library in McKinney, Texas for two years now. Gwen had been a former resident of Dallas, TX, and the significantly smaller McKinney was well received. Moving there had been the best thing she’d done, and she was only a 30 minute drive from Dallas anyway.

Her family was more sad than upset, and she made a habit to visit the house she’d lived in for twenty some odd years every now and again. Just to get filled up on casserole and the like. She’d left, mostly, because of her family. She’d desired to actually get away from them a bit more, so she’d moved out to Dallas proper when she was 20. Five years of that, and she had moved to McKinney. She was approaching 30 now, and she still had no idea what she wanted. Not really.

She supposed she could keep working with the library, but she wanted more. She had always wanted more. Sometimes she wanted the picket fence life with a baby on her hip. Other days she wanted to be a woman in charge of a career. Something exciting. Something boring. She wasn't sure what exactly she wanted yet. She was supposed to know. Thirty wasn't so far away.

"Gwen, go set up for the Veteran's thing in the auditorium." Her supervisor, Jerry, with his monotone and furrowed white brows, looked over at her, watching her zone out and, essentially, panic.

She nodded to soothe his fears, putting her books away happily and trudging towards the keys to grab the one's for the auditorium. It was short work, setting up the microphone and laptop for the PowerPoint. They were having someone talk today. Or rather, the American Legion was. Gwen didn't know. She only knew that they probably wouldn't know how to work the computer.

"Am I in the right spot?" Someone asked, and Gwen whipped her head around with a squeak at the sound.

He was handsome, well built, and very tall. His head was buzzed, but his beard was almost unkempt, long but...looking rather soft. Gwen struggled for words. Obviously, he was in the right spot. He was dressed in a rather nice uniform. He was an army man by the looks of him. She swallowed and finally spoke up when she noticed his brow quirked.

“Yeah. You’re in the right spot. Though, you’re about a half hour early.”

He laughed and shrugged his shoulders, putting hands on his hips. “Well, my mama always told me that being on time was being late. Guess I still listen to her from time to time.”

“Smart.”

He looked at her name tag briefly and extended his hand. “Hank Syverson,” he said, introducing himself. Or at least, Gwenn assumed he was introducing himself.

“Gwen Bailey. Nice to meet you, Mr. Syverson,” she replies, shaking his large hand.

He shakes his head and waves his other hand in a sign of distaste. “No. No. Just...just Sy. If you want. Don’t go by Hank much, and Mr. Syverson is my pa.”

She grins as he keeps a hold of her hand. It’s warm, and he’s fairly warm. If not a bit scraggly. She reluctantly releases his hand and looks around. “Well, Sy, it’s lovely to meet you. Hope to see you around sometime?”

The question was open ended. She didn’t know if he lived in McKinney or if he just… was here for this....talk.

“Yeah. You need help with anythin’? My mama’s outside gettin’ books for my nieces and nephews, and I don’t really wanna go look at kiddie books for the next half hour.”

“Sure! Sure. You can help me set up these chairs. You look strong enough.”

His laughter makes Gwen feel warm inside. “Yeah, that’s what I’m good for, anyhow.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were done, and all Gwen really had to do now was wait for the American Legion folk. While they worked, she and Sy had talked about a few things. He was a captain in the US Army. He’d been stationed in a great many places, namely Baghdad, and he was on leave for the foreseeable future. He didn’t say why, and she didn’t have the heart to ask, considering he looked rather forlorn about it.

“My mama’s happy about it. She was over the moon when I told her I was comin’ back. She expected me to move back to my place in Dallas, but I missed home. Missed my family. So I’m temporarily a man child, living with my parents.” He laughed at that, his laugh so easy and sweet.

“What about you?” He asked. “You a McKinney native, or…?”

“No,” Gwen said softly. “Not really. My mom and dad live outside Dallas. One of those big Texas lady mansion houses. I lived in Dallas for a bit, but I left. Not sure why. Just got tired of it.”

Sy nodded, as though he understood. Maybe he did. Maybe he knew exactly what she meant. “I get that. It gets monotonous sometimes. We need changes of scenery.”

“You’re weirdly prolific, you know it?”

“Yeah, I’m dumb enough to say smart shit sometimes.”

“I like it.” Gwen hadn’t intended to say it like that, but he smiled nonetheless. They sat down in the chairs they set up, sitting with two chairs between them. She looked over at him, sitting in companionable silence. After a few minutes, he decided to say something, opening his mouth.

“I was wondering if —” He was interrupted by the American Legion president, smiling and calling out his name.

“Hank Jr.! How are ya, boy?” He asked, and Gwen had to stifle a laugh. Sy was anything but a boy.

Sy stands and extends his hand, shaking with the president. His name was Jackson if Gwen remembered right. She was a little peeved at him, having been curious about what he’d been about to ask. Or say. Or anything.

She was at least hopeful this wouldn’t be the last time they’d see one another. She waved goodbye to Sy and spoke with Jackson for a moment, giving him all he’d need for his presentation. She felt Sy’s eyes on her back as she left.

A few hours later, Gwen was in the back, processing books. She rather liked the process, covering the books in dust jackets or tape to protect them. It was nice. Kinda fun too. She got into a rhythm, mind absent and thinking on Sy for the rest of the evening. He was nice. Genuine. Funny. Cute. All of the above. She wondered if she’d ever hear from him again. She cursed herself for not getting his number.

“Gwen?”

Gwen looked up at one of the clerks she worked with. Lacey. She was relatively young, younger than Gwen at least by a few years. Gwen gave her a smile and looked up, pausing her work for just a moment.

“That uhhh… guy who was at the American Legion thing…”

“Jackson?”

“No, the speaker guy. The younger one.”

“Yeah?” Gwen asked, unable to hide the anticipation in her voice.

“He left his number for you. I can throw it away if you want. I get dudes hitting on me all the time.”

“No! No, I’ll take it.” And Gwen plucked the paper from her hands, looking at the messy print. Sy. And then, 10 numbers that made her grin.

#captain syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson x ofc #syverson fic #syverson fanfiction #syverson #fanfiction #my writing.#mine.#!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#ok!!!! first fic!!#lmk what you think!!

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golchaworld · 4 years

Text

You See Love Is A Game (And I Still Want to Play) | C.YJ

➳ pairing: campus player!yeonjun x female reader

➳ genre: college!au, angst, suggestive fluff

➳ word count: ~5.2k

➳ warnings: some suggestive moments, language, super brief mention of death, set in a nursing home, ambiguous/open ending, bi!yeonjun (not a warning but it’s there lol)

➳ summary: A workplace romance is a cliche. But if it’s not a romance, that should be perfectly fine, too. It sure seems to be fine with Yeonjun. So why isn’t it fine with you?

A/N: Y’all this took me forever! I’m kind of happy with the way this turned out though. As always, feedback is encouraged! Requests and prompts are also always encouraged so don’t be shy. Also there is a high possibility of a part two for this, so if you’re interested feel free to let me know. The title is from “Don’t Wanna Fall In Love” by KYLE.

Part Two

Choi Yeonjun was nothing but leather jackets, perfectly styled hair, and sleazy smirks. His look fit his character to a tee. He was a loud, obnoxious player who could have anyone on their knees for him with just a smirk and his signature wink.

You hated it.

Sure, college is the time to explore yourself and your sexuality, and you were never one to judge. But to see someone taking so much pride in being known as nothing but a player was a tad bit...unsettling to you. As a psychology major, you always wondered what was going on inside Yeonjun’s head that made him so okay with his reputation. However, you never got close enough to pick his brain.

Keeping your distance from Yeonjun was something you decided in your first semester. You had been walking down the hallway of your dorm (the one he unfortunately lived in as well), ready to set out for the day when you were met with a shocking sight. Yeonjun had been walking out of the bathroom, freshly showered. His towel was knotted low on his waist, exposing his toned torso that was littered with drops of water.

The minute he noticed you staring, Yeonjun pulled out the classic smirk and wink before walking away. To say you were left with flushed cheeks for the rest of the day was an understatement.

You couldn’t deny that the boy was attractive. There was something so enticing about his cocky demeanor and careless walk that drew you in. His plush lips were always drawn up into that greasy smirk that highlighted his high cheekbones and strong jaw. His hair was always perfect, even when it was messy, and he was always dressed to the nine.

In short, Choi Yeonjun was infuriatingly attractive.

And as you found out, fury, disgust, and attraction proved to be a dangerous mix. It had your stomach in knots every time you so much as caught sight of the boy. If anyone were to ask you, it was out of a weird distaste for him, but you knew better.

Which is why you find yourself currently in the library, trying extremely hard to focus on your 19th century literature homework as Yeonjun sits at a table a few paces away. He’s flirting with the innocent boy who sits at the table with him. You can easily tell by the way Yeonjun’s smirk is sitting on his face and the fact that the other boy’s cheeks are dusted with pink that he’s doing well.

You internally roll your eyes, averting your gaze back to Frankenstein in order to not be caught staring. Leave it to Choi Yeonjun to turn a place of learning into an opportunity to score. In all honesty, it shouldn’t bother you as much as it does. But you can’t help the way your mind runs an internal rant about Yeonjun’s antics, when in reality it has nothing to do with you.

As you grow more tired, it becomes harder to focus on your homework, leaving you distracted. Yeonjun still sits with the seemingly innocent boy, apparently still laying on the charm thick if their hushed giggles are anything to go by. Part of you can’t help but be jealous of the boy. It must be nice to have all of Yeonjun’s attention, even if only for a fleeting moment.

You’re too busy pondering that thought to notice that you’ve been staring. Suddenly, Yeonjun’s eyes meet yours from across the room, and you know you’ve been caught. You’re quick to avert your gaze then, cheeks heating at the thought of Yeonjun knowing that you were staring at him.

God forbid he knows why. You would never hear the end of it.

Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus back on Frankenstein. You’re nearing the end of your assigned pages when you feel a set of eyes on you. The gaze is piercing, demanding your immediate attention, but you don’t give in, letting your eyes process the words on each page instead.

It’s only minutes later when the chair across from you shifts, and you look up to see it being claimed by none other than Choi Yeonjun. You only spare him a brief glance before burying your nose into your book. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your cheeks have heated up just from his mere presence.

“You know,” Yeonjun whispers, mindful of your location. “It’s not polite to stare.”

“I wasn’t staring,” you respond, not once looking up from your book.

Yeonjun chuckles under his breath, and when you look up to meet his eyes, he’s looking at you in sheer amusement. His lips are quirked up, but not quite in his normal cocky smirk. He seems friendly, almost.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you respond hesitantly.

“Well, Y/N,” Yeonjun says as he begins to stand from the table. “Next time you want my attention, just say so. The staring thing is kind of creepy.”

The tall boy pushes in his chair, surprisingly respectful despite his demeanor. He spares you a wink paired with his signature smirk before he walks away, leaving you with unfinished reading and a flame of annoyance flickering in your stomach.

. . .

One of the pains of being a psychology major is the need for you to participate in field research. It takes up a huge amount of time, and requires more writing than you initially thought, but at least you get to decide what and where you want to research.

Very honestly, studying geriatric psychology in a nursing home isn’t exactly your first choice for research. But when your professor mentions that they are in dire need of research help, you can’t find it in your heart to say no.

When it is finally the first day of your research, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. You know the procedure, and you have all of your interview questions written down, but you still can’t help the jitters that accompany doing anything for the first time. It doesn’t help that you have to go in alone, your supervisor choosing to stay in the lab while you do the field work.

Your knee bounces the entire bus ride to the nursing home, making the fabric of your dress jump around your legs. The short pumps you’ve stuffed your feet into begin to hurt the minute you walk into the nursing home, and you can already tell it’s going to be a long day.

Lucky for you, the home is warm and inviting. The walls are a warm cream color, decorated with the occasional piece of artwork. It’s surprisingly busy, filled with staff, visitors, and residents, all chatting away or busying themselves with a board game.

You make your way to the front desk slowly, still taking in your surroundings. When you arrive, you’re greeted by a dimpled boy sitting behind the desk, giving you a soft smile as he welcomes you to the home.

“How can I help you?”

You swallow down your nerves, suddenly made worse by the boy in front of you. He’s cute...like really cute. “Um, I’m Y/N. I’m here for research. I work with Dr. Seo.”

The boy behind the desk lights up, dimples growing deeper as he smiles fully. “Oh! It’s so nice to meet you. Dr. Seo told us he’d send someone in, but didn’t mention who. I’m Soobin, by the way.”

Soobin extends a hand and you shake it, smiling softly at the boy’s bubbly demeanor. He’s quick to stand, grabbing a folder full of papers from the desk before coming around to meet you on the other side. He motions for you to follow him.

“Normally researchers don’t actually do much on the first day. They just kind of come in and survey the place and take notes.” Soobin leads you down a long hallway, smiling and greeting the residents as you pass them. By the way everyone lights up at his presence, you can tell he’s well liked. “Last year, I was the one who kind of showed everyone around, but now they have me working the front desk so I really can’t anymore.”

The boy stops in front of an open room, which appears to be some kind of break room. There’s a fridge in the corner, plastered with pictures and colored magnets. The rest of the space is filled with a few tables, one of which is occupied by what seems to be a group of volunteers.

“Hey guys, this is Y/N. She works with Dr. Seo,” Soobin announces, grabbing the attention of those around the table.

The last person’s eyes you expect to meet are Yeonjun’s. Yet here he is, staring back at you in his mint green scrubs as he munches on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He looks sincere for a moment until something within him clicks, when the corner of his lips quirk up into a smirk. You feel your heart fall into the pit of your stomach.

Soobin doesn’t seem to notice the shift in atmosphere, and continues his announcement. “I have to go back to the front to help Hyunjin, but can one of you guys show Y/N around? She’ll need to know where things basically are and where to set up.”

Yeonjun’s standing up before Soobin even finishes his sentence. “I’ll do it,” he offers.

Soobin’s face pulls into a relieved smile, dimples popping out in gratitude. “Perfect,” the boy places a large hand on your shoulder. “You’re in good hands with Yeonjun. I’ll be at the desk if you need anything. It was nice meeting you.”

You nod at the tall boy, watching as he sets back off down the hallway from which you can. When you turn back to the break room, you notice that Yeonjun has already cleared his stuff away, leaving his friends with an exaggerated salute that has them all laughing. He brushes past you in the doorway, mumbling for you to follow him as you set out further into the nursing home.

“You just couldn’t get enough of me, huh?” Yeonjun throws a wink over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes. “You wish. I couldn’t give less of a shit about you working here.”

“Rule number one, sweetheart, is that you can’t curse around the residents. So watch that mouth of yours.”

Warmth rises to your cheeks at the use of the pet name. You can tell Yeonjun doesn’t mean anything by it, but it still leaves a fluttering in your stomach anyways.

The tall boy leads you up a flight of stairs, and it’s then when you notice how different he looks. All of his piercings are left void of jewelry. Instead of his hair slicked back with a hard gel, it’s left natural, soft and shaggy. He’s not wearing any bracelets or rings like he usually does, and you smile internally. You like the way this Yeonjun looks.

“We’ll start at the top and make our way down, okay?” The boy’s voice echoes in the stairwell, twisting the pitch as the sound reverberates.

You nod before realizing that he can’t see you from his position in front of you. “Sounds good.”

It’s evident that Yeonjun has been volunteering here for a while, exhibited by the ease through which he guides you around. He turns swiftly around each corner, knowing exactly which hallways are dead ends and which bring you further into the facility. The residents all greet him warmly as the two of you pass, and the older women seem especially fond of him.

Apparently no one is immune to Choi Yeonjun’s charm.

You’re amazed by the time the two of you return to the first floor. The nursing home is huge, much bigger than what you expected when you first walked in. Yeonjun leads you back down the same hallway through which you came earlier, past the front desk, and through a smaller hallway that leads away from the heart of the home.

When Yeonjun stops in front of a small room, he sighs. He opens the door swiftly to reveal what looks like an office. It’s equipped with a desk, some file cabinets, and an assortment of comfortable chairs and pillows.

“This is going to be your office while you work here. Once upon a time, it was mine,” Yeonjun’s eyes meet yours, holding a surprising air of authority. “Treat it right.”

You just chuckle awkwardly in response, not knowing how to respond. And then it hits you. This office was his at some point. The revelation has your eyebrows furrowing.

“You were with a research team?”

Yeonjun nods curtly. “I’m a developmental biology major. What better place to study the last phases of life than in a nursing home?”

Your jaw drops in surprise. “A developmental biology major? I would have never assumed that.”

Yeonjun chuckles bitterly. “You don’t know me. I think it’s a little inappropriate for you to be assuming anything.”

The air in the room is stale, emphasizing the discomfort that you feel after Yeonjun’s words. He’s right, of course, that you don’t know anything about him other than the fact that he gets around a lot. And he doesn’t even know that you know that. You choose to just apologize softly, which has the smirk rising on his face.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Yeonjun looks a little too smug. “Like I said, just treat this place with care. You can make yourself at home here. Whenever you’re ready to leave, just let Soobin know so he can sign you out.”

“Um, sure. Thanks, by the way.” Yeonjun cocks an eyebrow. “For showing me around and stuff. I’ll make sure to take care of your office.”

“Well it’s yours now, sweetheart.”

With another wink, Yeonjun is gone, leaving you once again with flushed cheeks and unfinished work.

. . .

The first week of trying to incorporate research into your already hectic schedule is a disaster. You only have to go into the nursing home two more times, and yet they manage to be the most jam-packed days you have had in awhile.

Working in geriatrics also proves to be more difficult than you’ve expected. Some residents are difficult and mouthy, while some are sweet but forget the question the minute it leaves your mouth. The whole interviewing process is extremely stressful, made worse by the way you have to relive the moments afterwards when you transcribe the interviews.

Additionally, you can’t decide if seeing Yeonjun everyday in your place of work is a blessing or a curse. You admit that he’s a sight for sore eyes after a long day, but he can also be extremely distracting with the flirtatious winks he sends you from down the hall. It seems like every time he sees you, he makes it his mission to fluster you as much as possible.

Occasionally he engages you in normal conversation, and that seems to fluster you the most. It’s when you gossip about the residents or tell cheesy jokes that you find yourself red in the face, absolutely smitten. It’s overwhelming how much you have grown to enjoy his company.

By the second week, it all becomes routine. It’s simple, really. You come into the home, check in with Soobin or Hyunjin, the other cute boy working at the front desk, and they always greet you with a smile. You use placing your snack in the break room fridge as an excuse to see Yeonjun, who always sends you a flirtatious wink in greeting.

Then you settle into your office, interviewing and transcribing for a few hours until your brain is melted. After that you retrace your steps to gather your belongings and leave the nursing home. It’s a pretty simple routine...until it’s not.

It’s the Thursday of the 5th week when Yeonjun comes barging into your office. You had been cramped in the small room all afternoon, and it was nearing 6pm. You weren’t anywhere near done with your work, but Yeonjun didn’t seem to care.

“Get your jacket,” the boy commands after his surprising entrance. “We’re going out.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the boy’s words, leaving him with a confused frown.

“There’s no way. I’m not even close to being done. So I have to stay here and work. Just go out by yourself.”

Yeonjun’s frown deepens, and you admit that it makes him look adorable. He stands before you with unstyled hair and a frown, clad in those mint green scrubs all of the volunteers have to wear. You internally smile at the fact that his name tag is upside down.

“You’ve been in here for over five hours. You deserve a break. We’re taking one now. Come on.”

Yeonjun’s stare is demanding, but with the subtle frown on his face, he seems to be pleading more than anything. After a few seconds of staring at the boy, you sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Fine. But only for a half hour. Then I have to get back to work.”

Yeonjun beams brightly at you, and you wonder how you’ve gotten to the point where Yeonjun smiles at you more than he smirks. You shrug off the thought and grab your jacket, following Yeonjun out.

The two of you opt for a quick stop at the local coffee shop rather than a full meal, knowing that what you need is just a pick me up. You settle into a booth towards the back of the cafe, seeming more interested in your drink than the boy in front of you.

Yeonjun chuckles when he notices the way you are downing your drink, taking a slow sip from his own. “You must have really needed that.”

When you look up, you notice how Yeonjun’s nose is scrunched up in amusement. He looks different like this, cuter, and you wonder what about the nursing home brings out such a cute side of him.

“Yeah, this research is kind of killing me,” you reply. “I don’t know how you did it.”

Yeonjun’s smile transitions to something softer. “I really loved it, so it never seemed like a big deal. I would rather be bombarded with patient interviews than have only a little bit of paperwork. Being face to face is so much more rewarding.”

You find yourself nodding in agreement, taking yet another sip of your drink. Although you had spoken to Yeonjun quite a bit since you’ve started your research project, you’ve never seen him so open. He’s normally all teasing quips and playful jabs and flirtatious compliments, but all of that seems to fall away as he looks at you with sincere eyes.

“What made you even want to work in the nursing home to begin with? Don’t most developmental bio majors work in embryology? Why didn’t you work at a fertility clinic or something?”

At this, Yeonjun’s smile falls. He looks down at his drink, stirring it softly as a way to fidget. He can’t seem to meet your eyes, even when he begins speaking.

“My grandmother was actually a resident at the home, like 3 or 4 years ago. She had really bad Alzheimer’s disease, and couldn’t live on her own, so I started visiting her when she was sick there.

“After she passed, I guess I couldn’t really stop myself from visiting over and over again, even though I knew she wouldn’t be there. So when one of my advisors told me a research position was open there last year, I jumped on it.”

You place your hand on top of his and give it a gentle squeeze. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

Yeonjun nods sadly, finally looking up to meet your eyes. “It’s okay now. Volunteering at the home is something I really enjoy, so something good came out of it all.”

After a second or two, Yeonjun flips his hand over, interlocking his fingers with yours. You instantly flush, even though you try not to show how flustered the action makes you.

“Thanks for asking, honestly.” Yeonjun starts softly. “No one has really ever questioned it, so it feels nice to be able to talk about it.”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath when the boy squeezes your hand. He doesn’t let it go after, letting it rest softly in his. You realize that he’s giving you the chance to pull away, but something in the pit of your stomach tells you not to.

The two of you end up spending the rest of your break chatting idly, fingers intertwined on top of the table.

. . .

No matter how much you get used to seeing Yeonjun in the nursing home, seeing him on campus always throws you for a loop. Even now, as you stand in the obnoxious crowd of the frat party your friends have dragged you to, you’re surprised to see the familiar head of perfectly styled hair.

He’s standing by the staircase, nodding his head softly to the beat of whatever EDM song is blasting through the house. His demeanor is the exact opposite from when he’s at the nursing home. Instead of being soft and open, he’s closed and rigid, seemingly predatory as he scans the crowd. You suspect it’s for his next hookup, and green briefly flashes behind your eyes.

He meets your eyes from across the room, sending a wink your way. You just roll your eyes, excusing yourself from your group of friends before walking over to him. Yeonjun looks surprised as you approach, taking a long sip of whatever concoction is housed in his red solo cup. He leans against the adjacent wall before greeting you with a smirk.

“This is the last place I ever thought I would see you, sweetheart.” His eyes glitter with delight.

You roll your eyes, sipping on the seltzer in your cup. “I could say the same thing to you. Aren’t you, like, too cool to be here or something?”

This makes Yeonjun laugh, his prominent cheekbones protruding as he smiles genuinely. “Of course I’m too cool. But I just decided to grace all of these poor souls on campus with my presence.”

You hum in amusement as Yeonjun takes a step further into your space. He glances down into your cup, raising an eyebrow at its contents.

“Vodka soda?” He questions.

You shake your head no.

“Gin and sprite?”

You shake your head once again.

“Tequila seltzer?”

His incessant guesses have you laughing, but you finally take pity on him. “It’s just seltzer, Yeonjun. I’m not drinking.”

Yeonjun scoffs, leaning further into your space as you two lean against the adjacent wall. “What’s the point of coming to a party just to be sober? Actually, never mind, I would assume nothing less from you, sweetheart.”

“Hey,” your jaw drops in mock offense. “Someone once reminded me that it’s a little inappropriate to be assuming anything when you don’t know someone.”

“I think I know you well enough.”

You cock an eyebrow challengingly. “Prove it.”

The smirk takes hold on Yeonjun’s face. He tilts his head slightly, making it easier to make eye contact. You’re struck by the intensity of his gaze, even in the fairly dim lighting of the party. He crowds further into your space, forcing you back onto the wall just a little bit. You’re ashamed at the way it ignites a flame in the pit of your stomach.

“Would it be inappropriate to assume that you want me just as bad as I want you?”

The question takes you by surprise, but the fire in your stomach only grows. If it weren’t for the intensity of his stare you would think he was joking, but something in his eyes tells you he’s dead serious.

“What makes you say that?” You don’t know where the sudden confidence comes from, but you take pride in your ability to flirt back.

Yeonjun chuckles. “Don’t think I forgot how you were looking at me in the library all those weeks ago. You were practically begging me to fuck you with your eyes. And honestly,” he shrugs. “I would have. I still would.”

You swallow thickly, brain momentarily short circuiting at the boy’s words. He still has yet to break eye contact, seemingly searching you for any sign to back off. Obviously, he doesn’t find one.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Yeonjun’s smirk grows, dripping with a sense of pride and satisfaction. He’s quick to take you by the hand, leading you up the stairs to wherever the two of you were bound to spend the rest of your night. You mentally apologize to your freshman year self for breaking your promise to keep your distance from Yeonjun. But really, you aren’t all that sorry.

. . .

You feel dirty.

No matter how much concealer you use to hide it, it makes you feel extremely dirty to come to work with hickies. It makes you feel even dirtier that the one who gave you said hickies volunteers there.

However, what makes you feel the dirtiest is the fact that when Yeonjun comes into your office and locks the door, you take the bait. You only have a 20 minute break in between your interviews, and you spend it fucking Choi Yeonjun...again.

No matter how dirty you feel, though, you can’t help but feel an underlying sense of giddiness. Being with Yeonjun just ignites something within you that has you thrumming with happiness for the rest of the day (not that you would ever tell him that).

The two of you had decided at the party that there was nothing wrong with a little fun as long as it was left at just having fun. And with that, the two of you just arose.

You don’t know where quickies in your office fall on the spectrum of “just having fun,” but you go with the flow anyways.

Yeonjun chuckles as he watches you slide your discarded panties up your legs, pulling down your pencil skirt as you fumble with the buttons on your blouse. He looks no better, the drawstrings on his scrubs untied, a blooming hickey forming underneath his collarbone. You both are a mess, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re straightening up your hair when Yeonjun moves to leave. He approaches the door slowly, seemingly wanting to draw out the moment between you two. Eventually he exits the office with a sleazy wink.

“See you around, sweetheart.”

And with that, he disappears. When the door clicks shut behind him, you swear to yourself that it won’t happen again.

Naturally, it does. Time and time again, you find yourself with Choi Yeonjun embedded in you, and you can’t say you regret it.

Your connectedness bleeds into your work, as you often find yourself thinking of the boy during your interviews. The two of you share secret glances whenever you cross paths, accompanied by the occasional rendezvous in your office.

It bleeds into campus life, too. You find yourself leaving every party with Yeonjun’s arm wrapped around your waist, him whispering dirty promises in your ear as he leads you out.

Every single time you encounter Yeonjun it always leads to the same two things, sex and unfinished work.

He takes pride in it, too. Yeonjun loves the way he has you dropping everything for him the minute he says the right things. He loves how you always greet him with a sweet smile, one that’s dripping with sugar in a way that’s only meant to conceal something. He loves the way you moan for him, say his name, tell him that you’re close. Yeonjun loves.

He loves.

On month two of you two “having fun,” Yeonjun decides he’s had enough of loving. He’s loved before, sure, but this, this is love. And if he knew anything, he knew that “having fun” and love could not coexist.

He lets his eyes roam your naked figure as you lay sleeping in his dorm bed, the two of you squeezing onto it late last night and haven’t moved since. He wonders when sharing a bed became enveloped in “having fun” and he assumes it was around the same time when loving you was.

This is not the Yeonjun he knew himself to be. This is not the Yeonjun that tore through the boys and girls of campus just to chase a meaningless orgasm. This isn’t the Yeonjun who got cute boys to tutor him by pretending not to understand physics. This new Yeonjun feels. He feels for you, and he hates himself for it.

Yeonjun can’t stop himself from smiling as you slowly start to blink awake. On instinct, his hand comes to your hair, stroking softly to further coax you into wakefulness. When you make sleepy eye contact with him, you smile softly. Yeonjun’s heart clenches.

“What are you staring at, creep?” You mumble into the shared pillow.

Yeonjun chuckles softly. “Just a loser.”

“That wasn’t what you were saying last night.”

And Yeonjun blushes. The Yeonjun that he knew himself to be never blushed. He was always the one making others blush. He used to make you blush. He wonders when the tables turned.

After waking up fully, you’re quick to leave the bed, searching the small dorm room for your clothes. You get dressed without batting an eye, straightening out your appearance as much as possible. Yeonjun just watches from his bed as you go through the motions, taking in the sight of you.

When all your stuff is gathered and you’ve deemed yourself appropriate, you head to the door. Yeonjun wills himself to say something, anything. But his voice is caught in his throat, and it’s not until you’re halfway out the door does he find his words.

“See you tomorrow.” Stay, please.

You just smile over your shoulder. “Bye, Yeonjun.” Ask me to stay.

You’ve made peace with the walk of shame since you find yourself doing it so often. But there is always something that nags in the pit of your stomach as you walk down the corridors of the dorm. You wonder if people can look at you and know, know that you’re just another one of Yeonjun’s conquests.

Somewhere along the line, you convince yourself that it’s fine if that’s what they think, because that’s what you are. Choi Yeonjun doesn’t do feelings, not for you, at least. He just takes and takes until he’s satisfied. There will come a day where he’s satisfied, and you two will return to being nothing but coworkers.

You wonder if Yeonjun has taken anyone else recently. You’re sure that he must have, but you can’t help but hope that he hasn’t. You hope that you’re the only one, that you’ve been the only one, but that hope is futile. You know that. So why does it hurt so bad?

As you exit the dorm, the cold air of early December whipping past your face, you realize that you’ve been taken. Choi Yeonjun took you, every piece of you, and you wonder why you let him.

You wish that you stuck to your freshman promise of keeping your distance. But distance only makes the heart grow fonder.

Part Two

#choi yeonjun #choi yeonjun imagines #txt #txt imagines #tomorrow x together imagines #tomorrow x together #choi soobin #choi soobin imagines #escritos

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bookscoffeejesus · 3 years

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5.20.2021

Do you ever have a place that you absolutely love to go but can’t get to enough because it’s so far away? That’s how I feel about Mansfield, Wellsboro, and the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon. Last year and this year, I made it point to trek up that way during my week of vacation and let me tell you, it was so hard to leave and come back home because it felt like I was already back home.

I started the day out at Colton Point State Park, the far side of the PA Grand Canyon (at least to me, it’s the far side). I’ve never been on this side before, so it was stunning to see the PA Grand Canyon from a different view point. And, I’ve been told that there’s a waterfall on that side that’s easy to get to, so I’ll have to go back up over the summer to see if I can find it!

I then made my way over to Leonard Harrison State Park, the “normal side” of the canyon for me. This is the side that my friends and I hiked in during our time at Mansfield University, so it’s the side that I’m most familiar with. While there, I went down Overlook Trail so I could snap a picture of my favorite view of the canyon from Otter View. I also stopped and took some time to journal while at Otter View, trying to work out some thoughts/feelings that have been running rampant in my mind lately.

Back in Mansfield, I stopped at Night & Day Cafe (not pictured) for lunch before walking around town and up into campus. Just like last year, as soon as I stepped foot on campus, I felt like I was home again. After having spent the better part of 5 years on Mansfield’s beautiful campus, I guess it was home for that period of my life. I walked all around campus, except past the dorms since they’re getting ready to tear down some of the older dorm buildings, and made my way up to the band field that I called home for most of the fall semester every year. The view from the band field is breathtaking, and pictures just don’t do it justice! What I really wanted was to walk into the library (where I worked at the circulation desk for most of my undergrad); it was open to the public, but I didn’t feel right just walking in (though, my supervisors would have been thrilled to see me). So I took a selfie outside the library again, just like I did last year! Maybe next year I’ll be able to walk through the library again!

It’s been a very long, very hot, and very tiring day. So, I’m now going to go read a book for a little while and then go to bed.

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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

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One In A Million - Chpt.10

Summary: Now that you’ve made up your mind to stay, you can finally start planning out your future with the guys.

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! This is it, the last chapter! I feel like it’s gone so fast but here we are. The epilogue will be going up next so stay tuned. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Ten

Now that you’ve made up your mind to stay, your job in the typing pool seems just a little more mundane. It was fine for the interim while you were just biding time before going back, but now you can’t possibly see yourself doing this for the next forty years. The only problem is, you don’t have your degree in this time and you most likely won’t be able to get a job in a lab even if you did. Money isn’t a problem compliments of your supposed Sparrow status with the SSR but you don’t want to live off of that forever. You want to do something, anything, to keep busy. You’re daydreaming, walking the quiet early morning streets of Brooklyn when it comes to you. Or rather, you come to it.

Science was your first love and always would be, but your second love was books. When you stumble across the public library you can’t help but go inside. Public libraries are the same no matter what decade you’re in. The long, tall rows of books, the musty scent of paper thick in the air, children and adults alike lost in their reading. It’s comforting and reminds you of your childhood. You approach the harried looking girl at the main desk with a smile. “Excuse me. Hi. I’d like to get a library card, please.” you tell her.

The girl looks up through thick rimmed glasses with a smile of her own. “Sure, I just need you to fill out this slip and I’ll get you set up.” she hands you a three by five card for your name and address and you scrawl your information down for her. It dawns on you that you’ll never get to use your real name again. You’ll forever be Rose Rogers now and while there’s a small pang of loss for your old name, you could do a lot worse than being Mrs. Rogers. Handing your card back to the girl she files it quickly into the rolodex that houses everyone’s information. You stifle your laugh at how archaic it seems compared to the ease of saving information on a computer.

The girl hands you a card with your name filled out on it and yawns loudly before she can get out a tired, “Here you go.”

“Long day?” you ask sympathetically.

“The longest. Doreen had her baby and now she’s not coming back so we’re all working doubles trying to pick up the slack. We don’t even have anyone for the children's story time tomorrow now. It’s a mess.”

“Are you looking to replace her? I used to volunteer at the library in school so I’m familiar with the Dewey Decimal System. I moved here not too long ago and I’m looking for work.”

“Really? That would be amazing. Can you come back tomorrow to meet with Mr. Cooper? He runs the place and will be the one who has final say, but if you know what the Dewey Decimal is I’m sure he’ll take you. Most girls coming in take forever to train.”

“Sure, what time?”

The girl, whose name you learn is Lorna, checks the calendar in the back and then gives you a time frame to stop by in. She promises to give her boss a heads up that you’re coming in so hopefully he’s expecting you. Lorna jokes that she’ll put in a good word for you too since you seem a heck of a lot nicer than Doreen ever was.

You want to tell the guys about your potential new job but also don’t want to jinx anything. Your supervisor at the SSR is kind and lets you take an early lunch for a “doctor’s appointment” so that you can run across town to meet Mr. Cooper at the library. After you explain your experience, you really did volunteer at your high school’s library, he hires you on the spot, offering for you to start the following week. You feel guilty going back to the office to put in your notice and wonder if this means the bank account you were given will be retracted when you quit. There’s a gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach when you wonder if your new job will pay enough to keep you afloat the way you have been. It’ll be tighter for sure but you do the math quickly in your head and think it should all work out.

You pop into Agent Wilson’s office when you get back to the office, wanting to rip the band-aid off rather than worrying about what if’s.

“Rose, good to see you again.” Wilson stands to greet you as you step into his office.

“You as well, Agent Wilson.” you reply shaking his hand.

“And to what do I owe this visit? Is the reception pool treating you well?”

“Very well sir, thank you. But about that actually. I’ve found another job that’s more aligned with my career goals. I’ve been given the opportunity to be a librarian and it’s closer to where my husband and I moved. I know I was set up here due to my… status, but I’ll be staying in Brooklyn and would like to set up a real life here. I understand if you’ll need the funds back from the account I was given and I have a personal check here so you can access and close the account. I haven’t used all that much so far.”

“Rose, Rose, slow down a minute. The SSR takes care of its assets even when they choose to leave the life. You were never obligated to stay here after declaring Sparrow protocol. The account is yours, we cut ties to the funds as soon as identities are handed out, we have no desire to take that security from you. I’m happy for you, that you’ve made a life here. Most girls don’t re-acclimate as easily and it’s a blessing when they do. I hope you’ll stop by from time to time to say hello.”

“I will, thank you sir. Truly, thank you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Just let Marge know you’re moving on, she’ll understand. And take care of yourself.”

“Thank you, you too.” You shake Agent Wilson’s hand once again and head out into the more brightly lit main office.

Marge and the girls are sad to see you go and you offer to stay on until the end of the week so as not to leave them in the lurch. Marge insists you’re free to go whenever but the girls plan a goodbye party for you for Friday.

Steve is home when you get back, Bucky will be along in another hour but you can’t wait to share your good news. Steve is over the moon for you, though he does admit he wishes you had told them you weren’t happy in the typing pool. They would have encouraged you to find something new sooner like you and Bucky had done for him when he took the job at the paper. Never one to miss an opportunity to celebrate, Steve goes down the block under the guise of getting a loaf of bread to go with dinner. He comes back with bread and glossy chocolate cake, Congratulations written in cursive on top in bright white lettering. You’re kissing Steve and giggling when Bucky finally comes home, tired and worn out from his day.

“What’s all this then?” he asks, setting his coat on the hook by the door.

“Our girl has some really great news, Buck.” Steve tells him, a hand still around your waist.

You hold the cake up to show him the writing on top with a smile.

Bucky’s face crumples, shock and hope and awe flickering across it as he crosses the room to the two of you. You can’t figure out what has him so moved until he presses his rough palms against your belly. “Rose?” he croaks through a tight throat.

“Oh!” you gasp, realizing what he was thinking. “No, no, not that. I’m sorry for scaring you. We probably should have been clear right off the bat. I got a new job. I’m going to be a librarian starting next week.”

The light in Bucky’s eyes dims for a second before he can rally himself to be excited for you. “That’s wonderful, darlin’. I’m so proud of you. I always thought you were too smart to be sitting around in a typing pool anyway.”

“Thanks, baby. Dinner is almost ready, why don’t you go wash up?”

Bucky gives you a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes and heads off to the bedroom to change.

You look to Steve who looks as thrown off as you are. “He’ll be okay.” Steve assures you, giving you a quick hug, “Let’s go finish up.” he takes your hand and leads you back to the kitchen where you fall back into an easy rhythm preparing dinner for the three of you.

The celebratory air of dinner is somehow dimmed by Bucky’s reaction to your news. You had never really put much thought into a family of your own. It makes sense that Bucky would want one, he came from a large, loving family after all. And in this era, men are taught to aspire to having a wife and family of their own. Your birth control shot was up to date when you left but it should have run out a month or two ago. Now that you’re thinking about it, it’s sheer luck that you aren’t pregnant by now and you make a mental note to be more careful going forward. You can’t exactly get a Depo booster in the ‘40s and the birth control pill won’t even be invented for another eight years. You’ll just have to time your cycle and be careful going forward. Unless. Unless you don’t want to be. Images of a little boy with floppy blonde hair and bright blue eyes comes to mind, followed by a little girl with chestnut curls and wide grey-blue eyes. You could have that, if you wanted. If they wanted. You’d never thought to ask until now, and now that you have, the questions are burning bright in your chest.

The three of you are sitting in the living room when you finally can’t stand it anymore. “We need to talk about this.” you announce, setting down your book. Steve looks up from his sketch pad, startled.

“I’m sorry, darlin’.” Bucky sighs setting aside his crossword puzzle. “It was your big night and I’ve ruined it by bein’ dumb.”

“You’ve done no such thing.” you scold him lightly, “But your face when you thought. Well. When you thought I was pregnant. Baby, is that something you want? Because if it is, we have to talk about this.”

“It’s not right for me to ask you to-”

“James Buchanan Barnes.” you cut him off, “We are all adults here. You are not asking me for a damn thing. We need to be able to talk about what we want, all of us. That includes you, Steve. If we all want the same thing then great, if we don’t then we need to talk it out and come to an agreement. Now, let’s start over. Bucky, do you want to have a baby with me?”

Bucky’s jaw drops, stunned by your outburst and the frankness of which you’re talking about things. “God,” he sighs, raking a hand through his hair, “Of course I do. The idea of seeing you all full up with a baby, our baby. It kills me, darlin’. I’d have as many little chubby babies runnin’ around here as we could stand. Maybe a few little bratty blonde ones too.” he gives Steve a smirk and Steve visibly pales.

“Stevie, honey, what’s wrong?” you ask, worried.

“No, I can’t. I won’t. You know how often I get sick and how bad it can get. Believe it or not, it was worse when I was a kid. I was on death’s door more times than I can count. Nothing about my body has ever worked the way it should, why would I want to put some poor kid through all that too? Of course I want a little baby with your eyes and my smile, but what kind of life am I setting it up for when it’s half me? I couldn’t bear it.”

“Stevie, no.” Bucky croaks, rushing over to him and lifting him off of his chair. Bucky slides into his seat, pulling Steve onto his lap so he can hold him tightly, tears shining bright in his eyes. “You would be the most amazing papa to any kid. And our girl is strong, who says your kids would have even one of the problems you had? They might be all her and only get your sass. We can’t know for sure.”

“He’s right.” you chime in, “We wouldn’t know for sure if a baby of ours would have your health issues. And even if they did, medicine is getting better every day. They wouldn’t necessarily have such a rough time even if they did have issues. Be honest, honey. Do you want a baby with me?”

Steve thinks for a long moment, giving into the warmth radiating from Bucky. “I don’t think I need it to be my own. I want a baby with you, but if it’s Bucky’s I’d be just as happy if it were my own. And then we wouldn’t have to worry about it being sick like me.”

“You’re always so worried about us, what about you?” Bucky asks you.

“I never really thought I’d have a family but I think I want one now, with you two. Not saying right now. I’d like to hold off a little while so we can enjoy it just being the three of us for a bit, but someday. Yeah. It might be nice to have a few little kids running around.”

“Let’s give it a year.” Steve suggests, “We’ll take the time to get you settled at your new job and start saving up. Maybe take a vacation too while it’s just us. Then next year we can decide if we want to try or hold off. I’ll go with you to the doctor’s if you want one of those diaphragms. Or me and Buck could start buying rubbers. Whatever you want. We probably should’a thought of this sooner.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t thinking about it either. Condoms are easier and I can track things so we’d only have to use them when I’m fertile.”

“Whatever you want, doll.” Steve assures you, getting up from his spot on Bucky’s lap and joining you on the sofa to pull you in for a long hug.

“All I want is you. Both of you.” you whisper against his neck.

Bucky is silent as a ghost as he slips in on your other side so you’re sandwiched between your guys. You can’t help but be relieved that the conversation was easier than you expected. It’s hard to believe Steve is so fearful of his DNA being passed along but it makes sense after everything he’s battled in his life. Maybe someday he’ll change his mind but you’re not going to push him.

Leaving the girls at the typing pool is bittersweet. You exchange addresses and phone numbers so you can stay in touch and promise to host a girl’s night as soon as you can. You’re surprised to realize that you really had made a few good friends at the SSR and that you’ll miss the community of your little group.

Your first day of work at the library proves to be easier than you expected. A grey haired woman named Agnes gives you a tour before training you on the rolodex and their filing system. It’s more complicated than scanning things into a computerized system but at least it’s easy to understand. Checking in and out books takes a few minutes of finding people’s cards and logging their books, stamping each with a due date before handing them back. No one seems to mind though, happily chatting with you while you log their books. Agnes explains that Doreen, who apparently no one will miss, used to lead the children’s story time on Monday mornings. Agnes claims her arthritis acts up making it hard to hold the books up for too long so you’re given the task going forward. You can’t really complain, the children are eager and sweet, cheering when you do funny voices and build suspense.

By the end of the day you’re already planning improvements for the library. You’ve caught on quickly and couldn’t help but notice a few improvements that would help. You worry about rocking the boat, being so new, but Agnes encourages you to have at it. She claims they haven’t changed a thing since Grover Cleveland was in office. You spend your first week making small adjustments to make everyone’s lives easier. It’s not too much, just rearranging the main desk a little, decorating the children’s area to make it more cheery, setting out books to feature on the end caps of isles to draw people in.

Your second week you decide to start deep cleaning. There’s always two of you there at the same time and the other women, most of them closer to Agnes’ age than yours, are content to sit behind the desk all day while you put books back and tidy up. You run around one Tuesday afternoon with a duster, going over every surface in the whole library. The next morning you attack the tall windows with newspapers and ammonia. You pick up a bottle of Murphy’s oil at the corner drug store and spend two days rubbing down every bit of wood in the place. By the end of that week you’re exhausted but happy and the library has never looked better. The other girls are still chattering the next week about much better it looks and how even the patrons are commenting. Mr. Cooper is apparently fretting that you’re too good for them and won’t last long there. You assure them you’re happy and plan on being there for the long haul.

Steve and Bucky both notice a difference in you when you come home tired and sweaty at night. Bucky jokes they could use you down at the docks with how hard you work. They both comment on how much happier you seem and you agree with them. Working with books is much more fulfilling than typing all day. You want to expand their children’s program to twice a week, story time on Mondays and a craft time on Thursdays. You spend your free time at work putting together a plan to present to Mr. Cooper for permission. The library as it is now is nice, but it could be so much more. You want it to be a haven for the community, the way yours was growing up. You could coordinate study nights with the local schools and host literacy nights for adults who never had a chance to learn. Bucky and Steve listen as you ramble about the plans you have and exchange knowing smiles. You’re happier now than they’ve ever seen you and it seems your career change was exactly what you needed to really thrive. And you are thriving now, shockingly more than you think you ever did in modern times. You’ve found your place back time with your guys and your community.

By the time your jump point comes it’s easier than you expected to write the letter to your team. You tell them you’ve found happiness, a new career, and a love that triumphs all. You apologize for disrupting the timeline and explain that you’re certain there’s not steering it back on course. The slight over shooting of the jump date and your suggestions on what adjustments are needed to make the calibrations more precise are included as well. You make a list of everything you think might be useful for the research and let them know where the rest of your notes are kept in your desk. You don’t know what will be helpful to them and if they can’t have you, they can at least have your notes. You whip up a batch of brownies for the typing pool girls, an easy ploy to gain access to the inside of the SSR office so you can get downstairs in time. It’s with a guilty conscience that you chase a mouse around the trash bin out back, needing something to put the note and brooch on. You fashion the poor little field mouse a bow out of one of your ribbons, clipping the brooch to the back and the folded up letter as well. Thankfully the poor thing is too frightened to put up much of a fight and you stash the little guy in your pocketbook.

The girls at the typing pool are thrilled to see you when you show up with the pan of brownies. The container is quickly emptied and you beg off to go wash it and say hello to one of the receptionists before leaving. You have six minutes to get set up. Quietly as you can, you slip down to the basement, setting up your jump point and counting down softly to the poor little mouse who’s trembling in your hand. You adjust it’s bow, note, and brooch one last time before sitting it down and activating the transport. The gemstone on the brooch flashes, once, twice, and a third time, the mouse holding blessedly still out of fright. You’re scarcely able to breathe until the white glow starts up and in a bright flash the mouse is gone. A few tears slip out despite yourself, silently wishing the little mouse well in the 21st century. You hope your team carries on their work and goes on to do even more great things. A part of you will always miss them but you know you’re where you’re meant to be.

You wipe your eyes, sniffling back the rest of your tears, and head back upstairs to say goodbye to the girls before you have to get to work across town at the library. It’s craft day for the kids and you’re going to be teaching them how to make hand print flowers. The craft is certain to be messy, creative, and loads of fun.

The bright early summer sun blinds you as you step outside onto the bustling city sidewalk and it hits you. This is your life now. There is no last chance to take it back anymore. You are permanently living in this time with your guys, and your job, and your new friends. You take a deep breath of balmy city air and know you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Tag list! @wolfarrowepz

#one in a million #steve rogers #bucky barnes #reader insert #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #named reader #captain america #preserum steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #time travel #1940s setting

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