O5 story. Based mostly on X-Men: Season One

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It was cold in the Xavier Mansion that day. They were out of fuel for the fireplace, the Mansion was out of power due to the recent Brotherhood visit, it was a late sunday night, Professor was out for some important matters and said the students shouldn't leave the Mansion.

Jean, Scott and Hank on the couch filled with blankets and pillows. Bobby was normal in one blanket in one of the couchs. Warren was on a mattress on the ground, wrapped around his wings with less blankets than the other.

"Jean, you're kicking my waist." Scott, in the middle of the couch, was pretty much cramped in between his friends.

"Sorry." Jean said, moving her foot from Scott's waist to his lap.

"Why don't you go to sleep in your own rooms instead of together in this couch? Do you seriously think this can fit 3 people? To sleep?" Bobby asked.

"This way, we can put together all our pillows and blankets. Also, human body heat." Hank answered.

"Hey, my couch is almost empty." Bobby tapped the couch he was in. Only him, a blanket and a pillow.

"You would freeze me in my sleep." Scott justifies.

Jean looks around the room, seeing Warren in his mattress. He didn't need that much blankets, because he already had wings. Jean remembered what Hank just said about "body heat" and had an idea. Maybe a bad idea, but a lot better than sleep-kicking Scott through the night.

"Hey, Warren? Got room for another one?" Jean asked. Warren, sleepy, didn't understand what she said at first, looking confused at the girl.

"This couch is full and you're all alone in your mattress. And I can fit there." Jean explained. Warren, finally understanding, got a pink flush on his cheeks. He knew that it was just friends sharing a bed, but he could feel the eyes of the other boys as Jean picked up a pillow and a blanket and moved to Warren's mattress.

Jean laid on his side, carefully positioned to not touch his wings. After, Warren put one of his wings on top of her, covering Jean.

"Thank you" Jean said, adjusting her pillow. Warren felt all of the eyes in the room at him, Scott especially. Although Scott seemed to stare at him with something more than typical jealousy (or maybe it was, since it was harder to know with that eye-cover of his).

Warren rested his head on the pillow, he always needed to sleep face down because of his wings. Jean turned to the side, closing her eyes.

Scott looked at Hank, as if he was trying to formulate a phrase but couldn't find the better words. Hank understood what Scott was trying to say, and gave him a "You can go" look. Scott picked up a pillow and a blanket and went to Warren and Jean's mattress.

Warren didn't even asked him questions, to sleepy to want to really talk. He lifted one of his wings and Scott carefully laid under it, turning his face to the opposite side of Warren's.

Hank seemed happy to have the whole couch for himself. Bobby stared at the mattress, looking at Warren laid face-down in the middle, Scott on one side and Jean at the other, both resting under his wings, and thought "On summer, they will come sleep with me!".

The next morning, Warren, Jean and Scott woke up cuddling much closer than when they went to sleep, to which Scott was sort of flustered, Warren was trying to play it cool (sleeping with someone with his wings out felt much more intimate than anything he did on a date), and Jean was finding their embarassment funny. Bobby was thankful he got to see that Warren Worthington III, the Angel, the guy all girls wanna date and all boys wanna be, drools in his sleep. Bobby was sure he would keep that picture forever.

i have a really cool prompt

hope you like my idea,

could you perhaps write a story about the current logan situation with loganxy/n ??

i love your blog soooo muchhhh

Logie and the Australian car incident

pairing: AstonMartin!y/n x Logan Sargeant (can be read platonically or romantically)

author's note: I haven't written any fanfic stuff in literal years (middle school me is quacking) but I tried my best with that one. Looking forward to any suggestions or critiques you may have :) (insert obligatory English is not my native language here) (please send promts!!!!)

The day starts off as any other day on a busy race weekend would and you are busy running around the Aston Martin garage making sure everything is in order before you return to your place at the back of the garage. You let your gaze sweep over the garage one last time before getting out your work phone and texting your boss, Lawrence, that everything is in order. The cars seem good, the mechanics had no complaints and Lance and Fernando were reasonably happy with everything. A satisfied smile washes over your face, your job was busy but reasonably easy, as the team caretaker your sole mission was to make sure the team was happy, the drivers taken care of, and the PR supervisors were not losing their minds running after their drivers while also texting Lawrence even the most minute details about his son and the other driver.

It seems quite redundant to you, but Lawrence Stroll pays well and who are you to turn down a job as a glorified team nanny.

You take a seat at the back and watch the first practice session absentmindedly, letting your gaze wander down to your phone occasionally, and scrolling through Twitter, scoffing at all the hate towards the current grid. It never ceases to amaze you how people can be so hateful, but then again, some people are just unhappy about their own lives. Looking up at the screen you watch a Williams car hit the wall on the right before sliding across the track and grinding its way to a stop on the left barrier. You gasp as you jump up, the rest of the garage wincing in sympathy as the car finally stops. You quickly turn to a mechanic nearby. “Who was that?”, you ask a little panicked as you watch the red flag fly and a driver in a Williams race suit climb out of the cockpit. “Albon, I think”, the mechanic replies helpfully as you try and suppress a relieved sigh. You still feel sorry for Alex but simultaneously thanking your lucky stars that Logan was not the one in an accident this time.

When Logan first got signed by Williams you both were ecstatic, you had met years ago when your parents had taken you on a vacation to Florida where you met Logan and you’ve kept in touch ever since. You had already been working for Aston Martin when Logan started in F1 and the fact that you could spend a lot more time together now served as further motivation to both of you to give it your best. You quickly shoot him a text, knowing he won’t be responding until later, before sending your boss a quick update and making sure the crash had not affected your team.

You honestly had forgotten you texted Logan in the first place as you watch the cars head out for the second practice session, Alex staying back in the pits, watching his teammate drive. You smile as you send Logan some memes you had found on twitter, knowing he would have a laugh once he got back to his room after the strenuous practice sessions of the day. Aston Martin, for once, had no major issues you had attend to and you could lean back and relax, as much as one in a Formula 1 garage can relax, in your seat while harassing the Aston Martin Instagram Admin with Memes you think they should be posting asap.

As the second practice session ends you help the team pack up and prepare for the next day as the drivers attend to their media duties and you stretch in relief as the first day of the Australian Grand Prix comes to an end.  After having everything sorted you get out your work phone and sign off for the day before taking out your personal phone and responding to some texts before checking your chat with Logan, seeing that he had read your messages but not responded. ‘You ok?’, you send him before shrugging off any worry you might have. Surely, he was just busy, after all, he was the only Williams driver that would be starting on Sunday. You really wouldn’t want to be in his shoes, the weight of the entire team and all the fans’ expectations resting on your shoulders. You might have a lot of responsibility but at least you were free of the expectations fans place on the drivers, mechanics and team principals.

You quickly slip into the shower of your private hotel room, a perk you were eternally grateful for, and put on some pajamas before order room service. You had earned it after all and looking after your figure was thankfully not a concern you had. ‘Ignoring your bestie? That’s not how I know you Loggie!’ you text Logan as you open the door for the food you had ordered and sit down before digging into the pepperoni pizza you had been craving for a week.

You startle as you hear a knock from your hotel room door. You shoot a quick glance at your phone, 11pm. You quietly approach the door and look through the peephole cautiously. Who would disturb you that late on a race weekend? Looking through the hole you see Logan at the door, his face unusually pale and his expression unnervingly neutral. Quickly you reach for the doorhandle, pulling the door open. “Logie? What got you a-knocking that late?”, you ask jokingly but the lighthearted smile on your face quickly fades as he stands on the swell of your door like a man lost, his eyes suspiciously watery. “Oh dear”, you mumble as you quickly pull him into your room and heard him towards your bed, letting him sit down before standing before him and looking at him with a stern expression. “What’s wrong?”, you ask, concern written all over your face.

He sighs, falling back onto the bed. “They’re taking my car.”, his voice sounds wobbly as he explains. “Who is taking your car?”, you ask, your voice confused.

“James. He said Alex has a higher chance of scoring and I get it, but I tried so hard, you know? They said they trusted me, and I was ready to proof how much I have improved and now I can’t drive at all. I didn’t crash the car! It’s not my fault! I didn’t do anything…”, he rambles, his voice flowing between sadness, anger and betrayal before ending in defeat. You look at him, he still has his upper body lying on your bed, his feet dangling off the side as he continues explaining what had happened. Quietly you sit down next to him on the bed and gently stroke through his hair as you let him talk out his frustrations. “y/n? What do I do now?”, Logan asks as he looks up at you, his eyes still wet but trying his hardest to not shed a tear.

“I will put the fear of God into that good-for-nothing son of a bitch.”, you explain very matter of factly. “I’m gonna walk down to the Williams hospitality and I’m gonna scream at your team principal!”, you declare with a huff as you get off of your bed and towards where you kicked off your shoes when you came back from the paddock earlier that night.

“Y/N, do NOT do that.”, Logan warns as he gets up and grabs your hand. “That is just going to make it worse.” “Okay but it’s also gonna make me feel a lot better ‘cause who does he think he is? Taking your car and giving it away. I’m gonna make him regret this entire week” you say angrily as you look up at him with determination and the wrath of someone who’s best friend was just wronged in your eyes.

“Please don’t”, Logan asks with sad eyes, gripping your hand even tighter. “Please just stay with me tonight, I feel sick. I just want to cry.”, he admits to you as you feel your resolve break. “But- “, you trail off as you watch him stand before you, his hand still tightly gripping yours. You sigh in defeat before squeezing his hand. “Right but only ‘cause you asked me to, if it was up to me…”, you stop, leaving the threat hang in the air of your hotel room as you head towards the small desk. “Pizza”, you declare as you shove the leftovers of your pizza into Logans hands. “My TV has Netflix, what do you want to watch?”, you ask as you throw yourself into the hotel room bed and turn on the flatscreen TV hanging opposite it.

Logan lets out a surprised laugh and sits down next to you, the pizza carton still tightly in his hands as he gets out a slice and lets you choose whatever show you find on the homepage. The evening continues in relative silence as Logan finishes the pizza and you sit in the bed, leaning onto each other. “I’m still sending him negative vibes, like spiritually”, you grumble as he giggles before slipping off to sleep for the night.

Public Transport

Authors note: I don't know how I even came up with this.... In a lot of pain right now, so I made this to cope with the pain

Summary: After being called 'a Mandalorian no more', you try to help your Mandalorian on the public transport starliner.

Warnings: The obligatory English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader honestly kind of fluffy-it's domestic stuff, real cute

Word count: 4.2k

You could tell that Din was hurt. The Armorer has deemed him 'a Mandalorian no more'. And all because two years ago he took off his helmet in front of you and Grogu. And now, two years later, he just got you back, but lost his people. Not to mention that the Razor Crest was at Peli's in pieces. You walk around the city, headed for the public transport starliner. You are headed to Tatooine to see how Peli is doing with fixing the Razor Crest. You and Din have barely spoken since he told you what happened with the Armorer. You don't want to push him to speak. You have Grogu in his wrap on your chest as you walk towards the public transport ship. Something starts beeping as Din walks up.

"You are going to have to remove your weapons"A protocol droid told Din

"I'm a Mandalorian, weapons are a part of my religion"Din said clearly annoyed. After some back and forth with the Droid, Din reluctantly put all of his weapons in a box, including the controversial darksaber.

You sit in the public transport starliner, a family of Rodians in front of you. You look at Din. He's still hurt by what the Armorer said. You don't pressure him. Instead, you look around in awe. You've never been on a public transport ship.

The journey from Coruscant to Tatooine is a peaceful one, and although you try to be considerate towards your wounded companion, he can see the curious spark behind your eyes. As you take in the surroundings, he looks over at you, the mask hiding his emotions, but his eyes showing a little surprise. “You’ve never ridden a starliner?”

"No. It's so big. And there's so many people!"You say, your eyes looking around like little kids. Your enthusiasm is endearing, so Din leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Well, a little hint from a veteran. If you don’t want anyone sitting next to you, just cough a few times, really loudly, and watch the entire area clear out.”

"Yes because people haven't been avoiding sitting next to us because of your Armor"You say with a slight smile. The hint of humour sends a smile across Din’s face, a subtle reminder that this Mandalorian knows how to loosen up, even just a little bit. He looks over at you. “This is still all so new to you, isn’t it?”

You nod as you see a droid come up next to you

"What would you like to eat?''The droid said. Grogu's ears perked up at the sound of food. You look at Din. Your expression is half confused and half excited...

“What do you think, little one?” Din asks Grogu, who starts nodding his head enthusiastically. “Two orders of fried bantha nuggets, two slices of bantha bacon, and 4 blue milks, please,” the Mandalorian says. The droid gives you the food. Grogu stares at it, eyes wide and full of excitement. The droid continues on to the next customers. You take Grogu out of his wrap and get him situated to eat

"Do you pay more for the food?"You ask Din, not knowing the answer. Din watches you as you set Grogu up to eat, smiling slightly as he watches you interact with his little companion. He glances back down at his food before replying to your question. “It’s all included, if that’s what you mean. They give us all a meal with our tickets.

"Really?!"You say. You put the plate in front of Grogu, making sure to only put bite sized regulated portions in front of him. You swear this baby would eat a live Bantha if it could. Grogu looks up at the plate of food with a wide smile, eyes shining, just waiting to get his little hands on that bantha bacon. Din reaches out a hand, grabbing one of the nuggets and bringing it down to Grogu, where he holds it out to him, watching in amusement as the little one leans in and takes a big bite out of the piece of fried meat.

"Can I eat it too?"You ask.

Din smiles as he sets some fried bantha nuggets in front of you on your plate. “Here you go. But be careful, it’s hot,” he says, keeping a close eye on Grogu, whose mouth is full of hot, crunchy goodness. Grogu and you eat in silence. You make sure that Grogu doesn't spill or eat too fast. Grogu doesn't like the fact that you're not letting him eat everything in one go, but he doesn't complain as he sees that he's still getting the food. Din just looks at you, not saying anything. Before you know it, your plates are clean, and Din is gathering up your empty dishes. The two of you sit there in comfortable silence, Grogu looking up at you with that same smile as before. He reaches up to your face, grabbing one of your cheeks. “Grogu,” he says, trying to get your attention.

Grogu looks at Din.

Din doesn't like that he has to be the 'bad cop' parent, whilst you get to be the 'caring' parent. But Din doesn't know how much Grogu actually loves him and looks up to him. Grogu looks at Din, wondering what his father doesn't like now. Grogu gives Din a look that says 'why can't I poke my mother?'.

As Grogu keeps poking at your face, Din leans in and places his hand on top of the little one’s head, moving him away from you. Grogu makes a noise of disapproval, and Din turns to you to offer some sort of explanation. “We don’t touch people without their permission, little one,” the Mandalorian says, now sounding a lot more serious than before. Grogu makes a noise that seems to mean something along the lines of, 'But it’s my mother!'

Grogu looks at you, trying to get you to side with him. As you're giving the empty plates to the droid, you turn back to Grogu, knowing exactly what he meant

"Grogu, listen to your father."You tell your little green monster

Grogu makes his disapproval known with a loud pout as he leans against you, holding onto you while he sticks his tongue out in Din’s direction. Din gives his little charge a stern glare, making it clear to the little one that he will not be swayed.

"Grogu...''You warn. Now, Din is always scolding him. For his own good of course. But Grogu knows that if you scold him, then he has to listen. You don't do it often, you're more willing to let the little womp rat do what he wants as long as he's not hurting himself. Grogu backs down, giving his father an apologetic look. Then he looks at you as if to ask if he can poke you.

"Yes, you can poke me. Thank you for asking"You tell him, following the parenting strategy his father is trying to use. Grogu smiles softly and pokes at one of your cheeks with a giggle. Din glances over at you, trying not to let the small smile reach his face. He knows you have a soft spot for the little one, and is impressed by the way you’re being more strict about his behaviour. When he’s about to look away, you catch him looking at you, and although he tries to hide it, there’s a slight red tint to his cheeks.

"Are you okay?"You ask him. You know he's hurt by the leader of his people calling him 'a Mandalorian no more'. You can see it hurts him. You want to make sure he's okay. And if he's not, you want to be there for him.

“I’m fine,” Din says, keeping his voice steady, although some hesitation can be heard in his words. There is little question that the decision made by the Armorer has hurt the Mandalorian, despite his claims to the contrary. He glances over at you and Grogu, before looking back out of the window, trying to find any distraction for himself in the outside world. You put your free hand, the one not holding Grogu, on his hand. You say nothing. It's just to reassure him. To say: I'm here for you. To say: You are no less of a Mandalorian to me. The touch of your hand feels both tender and familiar. With Grogu on your other side, Din can feel himself surrounded by the two most important people in his life, and it makes his heart beat a little faster. He takes off the glove of that hand and holds your hand. He doesn't do more. He goes back to looking out the window. You decide not to push further. You let him have a bit of space. He needs it.

His hand feels comforting in yours, warm and yet rough from the hard work he puts into his weapons and armour. It’s not your first time holding his hand, but the warmth of it seems much more noticeable to you. Din still hasn’t looked back your way, letting silence stretch out between the two of you. We sit in silence for a while. It wasn't tense or awkward. Suddenly, a little kid from the Rodian family in front of us turns around. He waves at Din. Din looks at the kid, and then turns back to the window. Grogu waves at the kid, clearly wanting to make friends. You smile at the kid too

Din is visibly tensing up as the Rodian family’s child tries interacting with him. His grip on your hand tightens, and it feels like there’s a lot more pressure now. He’d rather not interact with strangers, but he doesn’t want to seem rude either. As Grogu sees the Rodian child waving at him, he starts to bounce up and down a little, trying to get the Mandalorian’s attention.

"Excuse me?"The Rodian mother turns to ask us

"Yes?"You answer. You want to allow Din to keep in his thoughts, so you shall leave him to himself and deal with the friendly family by yourself. Grogu looks over at the Rodian boy with an expression of excitement and anticipation, clearly wanting to meet him and get the chance to make friends. When the boy’s mother asks something of you, you can feel Din tighten his grip on your hand just a little bit.

“Is it alright if our son goes over to yours and says hello?” the Rodian woman asks.

"Oh uh... Sure. As long as he's gentle."You say. You see the little Rodian boy get out of his seat and come to our side. Grogu moves to play with the little Rodian. Thankfully, the Rodian boy is gentle and doesn't seem to cause problems. Grogu is absolutely filled with excitement as he gets the chance to meet a new friend. Din watches as the two of them move over to each other, Grogu using the few words of Rodian he still remembers to try and communicate with his new friend, while the Rodian boy is amazed by the little creature standing in front of him.

“Your little one is adorable,” the Rodian mother says with a smile, trying to compliment you and your son.

"Oh thank you! What's uh your son's name?"I ask the Rodian mother politely

“His name is Rodo,” the Rodion woman replies proudly, looking down at her little son and smiling, a mixture of pride and love clear in her eyes. Grogu is trying his best to communicate with the little Rodian boy, but isn’t able to put his words together in a way that allows them to communicate the best they could. Nevertheless, he still seems overjoyed at the chance to make a friend.

"Oh"You turn to the little boy "hi Rodo. Thank you for being gentle with my little one" You say to the Rodian boy

Rodo smiles up at you, and Grogu leans in to hug the little boy, who hugs back and smiles. Din stays quiet in the background, his mind a mystery to you at this moment. You glance back to check on him, but he still seems withdrawn, not wanting to get involved with all the socialising. The Rodian mother calls her child back to her. Rodo and Grogu wave at each other, big smiles on both the boys faces

"Thank you for letting him say hi. He was so interested in you little one"The Rodian mother said. Then she glanced back at Din

"Oh no problem. He's very well behaved"You compliment the mothers parenting

The Rodian mother thanks you for your kind words, and although Grogu doesn’t fully understand what’s being said, that doesn’t stop him from smiling widely when you and Rodo wave at each other. Grogu looks up at you with such a happy and innocent expression, and you know that no matter how tough things might seem, you’re always going to have love in your life. Din looks away, avoiding you, but you’re more than used to seeing his closed off side. He seems a little more relaxed, but still not very talkative.bThe Rodian mother seems to want to engage in conversation with you. You don't mind as long as they don't bother Din. Maybe it's just two parents chatting?

The Rodian woman seems to be a naturally talkative person. The type who just enjoys communicating with others. She starts asking you questions about your home and about Grogu, with your answers filling the silent air between you two. Din sits quietly in the background, looking out of the window and avoiding the conversation.

“And I don’t mean to be too nosy,” the Rodian woman says, “But why are you two travelling alone? Why isn’t your husband here?”

"Oh uh I'm not travelling alone"You tell her.

You don't have a husband, but... You guess the closest thing to that is Din. The Rodian woman gives you a funny look, but you decide not to mention the fact that you aren’t actually married to the man sitting in the corner. “Well, where is he then?” she asks, with a slight confusion in her tone.

Din seems annoyed by her line of questioning, and you are almost able to feel that tension in him as he turns to look out of the window, trying to distance himself from the conversation.

You subtly point to Din, trying not to loop him into the conversation. The Rodian mother looks at the Mandalorian, whose eyes are still glued to the view out of the window. He doesn’t say anything, and his body language makes it clear that he doesn’t want to join the conversation. “Him?” The woman asks, giving a confused look.

"Uh yeah" You say hoping she won't ask too many questions

“Ah. And is he your husband?” The Rodian mother asks.

"Yes"You say not having time to explain the complicated unlabeled relationships between your 'family' members.

“Huh” the woman looks at Din strangely, pointing to him as he's still looking away from the conversation, clearly not interested in engaging. “Oh, alright then,” the Rodian woman says, deciding to move on to the topic at hand. She looks at the little Rodian boy, whose eyes are filled with admiration as he looks at Grogu. “So, your little one here,” the Rodian woman says, referring to your own son, “How old is he?” She asks.

"Uh... Two"

Technically 52. But you can't say that. Mentally you guess Grogu is two...

“Ah. And how come he’s so small for his age?” the Rodian woman asks, clearly not entirely aware of the more bizarre aspects to Grogu’s aging. All she’s going off of is what it looks like from the outside. You know that Grogu is much more than two years old, and his size is a direct reflection of his species and their biology.

"He's a... Different species. They are smaller"

The Rodian woman seems to accept your reasoning as she nods again. “Well, he’s adorable,” she says, her tone filled with a bit of amusement. She looks over toward Grogu, who is trying to communicate something to Rodo, with the two of them clearly having trouble getting their point across to each other.

"Thank you"The Rodian family turns around after that and continues their conversation in their language. You run to Din, noticing that he kept his hand gloveless.

You take his hand again and don't say anything. You just rub the back of his hand in reassurance

With Grogu safely in your care, you have a moment alone with Din. As soon as you rub your hands against his, he glances over at you and gives you a smile, clearly appreciating the gesture. He shifts his hand to rest on top of yours, his fingers gently holding your hand in place. While his expression remains stern, there’s something about that small moment between the two of you that feels almost intimate.

"How are you doing?"You whisper to your 'husband'

"I'm fine." His voice sounds tired, and he looks away from you to avoid eye contact, but something about the way he holds onto your hand reveals a vulnerability in his expression. You can tell that he's not in the best of moods, but he doesn't seem to want to talk about it in detail.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Din says without hesitation. His grip on your hand tightens a little bit, and he seems more than a little bit tense. "It's nothing."

"Okay. I won't force you. I just... I want you to know that this doesn't change anything, to me at least. You're still my Mandalorian. You always will be."You tell him quietly. Din doesn't look back to you, but you can tell that he heard what you had to say just by the brief, subtle softening of his expression. He's always valued your feelings, and hearing you voice support for and reassurance for him is always something that makes him feel better.

"Thanks." His voice is soft, and it seems like he genuinely appreciates the kind words you just told him.

You keep gently rubbing his hand, not trying to pressure him into talking more. You rather just let him know that you still love him. You play with Grogu a bit, as well as let him jump over to play with the Rodian boy again. Din doesn't seem to mind the things around him, but every time you let go of his hand for a second to help Grogu, he almost grabs your hand again. It's his quiet way of saying 'don't leave me'. And you won't. You take his hand again each time. Din’s grip on your hand seems to be somewhat of a reflex at this point, his body automatically reaching out for you every time it doesn’t feel your presence there. He seems relaxed as you play with Grogu and the Rodian boy, though he doesn’t join in on the play despite you trying to include him. He’s always been a bit antisocial, even when it comes to playing, and he’d much rather see you and Grogu happy than worry about him.

After a few hours, you are about half way on your journey. You need to take Grogu to the bathroom

"Is there a bathroom here? I need to change Grogu."You ask Din. You're not sure if public transport starliners have bathrooms, it is your first time on one. 

“Yeah, there’s a bathroom by the back,” he says, pointing to the back wall.

"Okay, I'm going to go with Grogu, we'll be back in a few minutes"You tell him. You let go of his hand and take Grogu to the bathrooms. Suddenly the Rodian boy turns back. He waves at Din, but Din barely acknowledged it

"Excuse me sir?"The Rodian told Din

Din looks over at the Rodian child, whose smile turns to confusion when he sees the Mandalorian looking at him with an annoyed expression on.

"Uh... yeah?" Din asks, clearly not wanting to talk to the little boy. The boy seems a little hesitant to interact with Din. "Your wife is so pretty!" Rodo said with a giggle

Din could tell that the young Rodian waited for you and Grogu to leave, probably too scared to say it in front of a pretty woman.

Din's face softens as the boy mentions you, and he lets out a quiet chuckle. "Thanks," he says to the young Rodian, although there feels like a bit of hesitation in his voice. The Rodian boy seems a bit surprised that the Mandalorian isn't angry at his compliment, but he seems thankful for the more positive reaction. The Rodian boy turns back to his seat, and then silence hits again. With the Rodian boy safely back in his seat and far away from him, Din sighs, finally calming down a bit. He looks over to you and Grogu, who seem to be having fun together by the bathroom. A small smile crosses his face, and as you both walk back to the seat, his hand comes out to take yours again.

Grogu waves at his dad from across the aisle.

With Grogu out of the bathroom, and Rodo safely back in his seat, Din finally settles back down, and his body seems to relax again, though not fully. He leans his head against the headrest and closes his eyes, seemingly wanting to take a break from everything for a while. You and Grogu sit back down and Grogu gives you a look.

"Ask your dad if it's okay."You tell the little one

Grogu pulls at his dad's arm, clearly wanting something. Din opens one of his eyes to look at Grogu, trying to see what the little boy wants. Grogu is clearly trying to get Din’s attention, and he seems like he wants something. Din looks at you, wondering what you think he could want, a little bit of trepidation in his expression.

"He wants to give you a hug, but I remember you are strict on teaching him to ask permission before touching."

Din nods, his stern expression softening for just a moment. He looks at Grogu, then slowly nods again.

“Sure,” he sighs, “He can come over here.”

Grogu smiles, looking a little happier at getting his father’s approval. He gets up from his seat and runs over to Din, holding his arms out as he wants a hug. You look at your boys for a moment.... Din taking Grogu and letting the little womp rat hug him

Grogu pulls away and then goes back to you. Uou look at Din, a smile on your face. Din finally relaxes, his expression returning to normal. He leans back into his seat, sighing, and you wonder what’s on his mind. He looks over at Grogu, who is hugging you and rubbing against you, clearly wanting his father to pay attention to him. Grogu reaches his free hand over to Din, wanting to also interact with him. Din looks at Grogu’s small and adorable hand for a moment, then he reaches out his hand to gently caress Grogu’s cheek.

"I'll try to follow your parenting techniques. I promise"You tell Din

Din looks over at you, his expression revealing just how appreciative he is of your willingness to follow his parenting techniques and ideals.

“Thanks,” he says, his soft voice sounding much less stern, and his eyes having a slightly softer look to them, “I know you’ll do great.” You see Din's hand move away from Grogu and then grab your hand again. He puts it back on the armrest, holding your free hand. You don't complain, in fact you continue rubbing the back of his hand.

"He's so cute when he sleeps''You quietly comment a little later on, as the green baby sleeps on your lap. Din looks over at Grogu, feeling his chest warm as he sees the little boy sleeping peacefully against you. “He is.” His voice sounds a little softer, and he stares at Grogu for a moment before looking back at you. “He’s cute most of the time.” His voice has a little bit of a teasing tone to it, which causes Grogu to shift and open one of his eyes. 

"Hey, don't let him fool you too. One of us has to be able to resist his cuteness, or we'll spoil him too much...." Din laughs, looking back at you. You see Grogu look over to you with an adorable smile on his face, and he lets out a cute little laugh.

“Yeah, I think it’s a little too late to resist his cuteness.” Din looks over at you and smiles softly. “You’re right, though. He’s a little cutie, but he’s also very misbehaved. Spoiling him will definitely not end well for any of us.”

"You're better in that department. You're the strict parent. I'm too much of a softie...."

“But you’re also his mother. Grogu needs and loves your affection and love, just as much as he does mine.” Din glances over at Grogu again, and Grogu’s look changes as he reaches a hand up and touches Din's chin.

“He knows he can be cute and get himself out of trouble,” Din says with a small smirk. “But he really can’t resist a hug from you.”

"I love him so much"

“I know,” Din says, giving you a genuine, soft smile. “I do too… And I love you…”

Double booking

Word count: 3934

You just want a night in peace at the hotel, after travelling for hours, but alas, it's not to be. Inspired by a dream I had a while ago, though that was not as coherent or logical by any means.

Obligatory English is not my first language.

Please let me know what you think.

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The bed is soft as a cloud and you crawl under the blanket with a satisfied sight. The chill of the luxury fabric feels divine against your weary body, and you pull our tee off to get the full experience. Goosebumps erupt over your back, and you wiggle down into the mattress. Letting out another sigh that morphs into a yawn, you close your eyes. After hours on the road, a good night's sleep will do wonders.

You turn for a bit, trying to find the ultimate sleeping position, settling for a half side, half stomach that provide that sweet, sweet relief for your achy back. With your free hand, you pull a corner of the blanket between your thighs, longing for the extra soft pillow you have at home, but that you just couldn't be bothered to bring with you. At least this way you won't chafe.

The linen caresses your bare skin, the cool of the newly made bed pulling you closer to dreamland, and then you're drifting off into the vast nothingness.

What feels like only seconds later, you wake with a start, from the lights turning on. Fumbling for your glasses and feeling your heart in your throat, your brain scrambles to make sense of what's happening. Is the fire alarm ringing? No.

Once the glasses are comfortably on, you glance around, only to notice a man standing in front of the wardrobe, mouth half open and a bag slipping from his shoulder. He's tall and menacing looking, and he's wearing gloves and a leather jacket, and you let out a strangled scream as you tumble off the bed, knocking the book from the nightstand and trying to wrap the thin blanket around yourself with trembling hands.

The fabric feels way too flimsy now, letting the draft from the open door wash over your body. There are goosebumps again, but this time they're not pleasant at all, and they wave back and forth over your scalp, making your ears buzz. You're painfully aware that the blanket is the only thing between your skin and the open air, and you pull it even closer as you back into the window wall and pull your knees up in front of you.

Your heart pounds like a bass drum, and you're pretty sure the stranger can hear it across the room. He still hasn't moved, and without conscious thought, you scan the room for an exit. But this is the fifth floor, and there's only one door that doesn't require you to go past him, and that leads to the neighbouring room. Not that it is, in any way, shape, or form, possible to get that far in your current condition.

Your breathing speeds up, and you crouch, trying to make yourself as small as possible. The coarse curtain prickles against your shoulders.

The stranger looks between you and the white key card on his hand, his mouth trying to speak, but managing no sound. Finally, after what feels like years, he looks away and stammers. "Sorry. Sorry. I must have gone to the wrong door." His neck has turned a deep shade of crimson, and he hunches his shoulders a bit, like he's trying to make himself smaller too. "I… uh, sorry." He picks up his bag and disappears through the door, closing it firmly behind him.

On the floor, you're barely aware that he spoke; the shock has practically paralysed you. It's not until the door smacks shut you manage to move again. Slowly, fighting the galloping heart and breathing, you get up and sit down on the edge of the bed. It's no longer tempting to crawl under the covers, and you don't have the courage to cross the room to put the security chain in place just yet. The encounter has spooked you so much, adrenaline is coursing through your body.

"I need a drink!" you mutter, voice croaking and airy at the same time, and pull on the discarded shirt. There's no chance of sleep for a while. That much is clear! "Idiot!" You berate yourself, mentally slapping the back of your own head for forgetting to fasten the chain, but you had been so busy worrying about the twin door that it completely slipped your mind.

The selection in the mini fridge is limited, but at least there's a couple of bottles of cola, and a small vodka. After mixing them, you down half the glass in one go, and the burn of the alcohol on your tongue makes your face scrunch, but you immediately relax a bit, and your thoughts clear somewhat. What the hell just happened? This is supposed to be a good hotel. Not very fancy, but better than the bug infested dumps you usually have to stay in.

You make a mental note to talk to the management. Tomorrow. Right now you're to riled up. Nothing good will come of it. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and focus on the buzzing in your ears. Slowly it fades until your hearing is back to normal, but there is no getting rid of the uncomfortable sting in your shoulders, or the occasional THUMP-THUMP in your chest.

As you finish your drink – you've almost decided on a second one to keep you company while you read for a bit – there's a sharp knock at the door. That makes you jump and spill the remains of your glass down your front. That doesn't register, though, because the door opens again, without waiting for a reply. You groan at yourself for once again not fastening the safety chain.

A stern looking woman enter, followed by the stranger, who, you notice, looks almost ashamed. "You're in this gentleman's room." It's a statement, but she might as well have yelled why are you here, you creep?

"Um, what?" You desperately try to jump-start your brain; this is definitely enough excitement for one night. After all, it is past midnight, and by all means you should be sleeping now.

"This is not your room," the woman says, in a voice that shows clearly what she thinks of you.

A frown appears on the man's face, and you squint between them. "What, yes it is." Your voice is breathy, and with a sigh through your nose, you grab the folder on the desk and pull out the papers from the check-in. "See, here? This is my name, that's the room number –" Suddenly your stomach plummets. What if you are in the wrong room? But the key card worked… A glance at the still open door – no, right room. You let out a small breath.

The woman grabs the papers and studies them, while holding out her hand to the man, wiggling her fingers when he doesn't respond. He fumbles with his bag and produces a set of identical papers. She compares the two, the furrow between her eyes deepening every second.

Finally she looks up. "My apologies. It appears there's been a misunderstanding," she says, her voice a lot softer than earlier, tired. She turns to the man behind her. "The room has been double booked or something."

That much is obvious. He nods. "Yes. Will you find me another room, please." He speaks softly too, and the panic that threatened to overcome you earlier subsides a little. He is just another weary traveller – of course he isn't here to hurt you. That thought seems quite silly now, or maybe that's the drink talking.

"Sorry," the lady says flatly. "There are no vacancies." She winces slightly, as if she prepares to be yelled at.

His shoulders slump, and he lets out a small groan, looking at you, then at her. "But…"

You smile apologetically and take another sip of your drink. It is empty, and you grimace from the embarrassment.

"However," the woman says after a pause, visibly relieved that neither of you seems to be the shouting types, "since it's so late, and you probably won't find a room anywhere else tonight, what with the festival and everything, I can probably set up something in the lobby. We have a few partition walls and –"

He scrunches his eyes shut and grimaces, and you feel sorry for him. He is a stranger, and you were in the room first, but it's not his fault that the hotel screwed up. Sleeping in the lobby is not an alternative. Your mother raised you better than that.

"Wait," you interrupt her, and they both turn to look at you. This is probably a bad idea, but the man looks nice enough now that the shock has diminished. His eyes are kind and tired and though he holds himself with authority, he keeps a respectable distance from both you and the other woman.

Gesturing to the unused bed next to yours, you try a smile and sigh when you feel it's just a grimace. "If… if it's okay with you, it is with me. You can have that bed tonight. And then we'll sort it out in the morning."

The woman's face relaxes, and you wonder how many rules she offered to break to keep you happy. The man frowns, as if he doesn't quite understand what you're offering. Maybe he doesn't, maybe he doesn't speak English very well. Then he gives you a flat smile. "You sure?"

Are you? "Yes," you answer, not at all sure, but it's too late to change your mind now.

"Well then, I bid you both a good night, and I'll leave a note for the morning staff, Mr Barnes." The woman leaves the room and shuts the door with a soft click.

"Y/N." You nod, hoping you look relatively normal, though you feel everything but, with your glasses askew on your nose, a tattered t-shirt and no bottoms. Awesome. At least the shirt is long enough to cover your butt.

The man remains by the door, looking forlorn and confused. "Bucky." He looks everywhere but directly at you, and for that you're grateful.

"Please," you say with a small nod, gesturing to the bed and the light switch on the wall beside him. "I'm really tired…"

Carefully you get back into bed and tucks the blanket tight around yourself, feeling a bit dizzy from what just happened. But you are really too tired to care at the moment, and the soft pillows are screaming your name.

Turning over on your side, with your back against the windows, you pointedly yawn and close your eyes to give the stranger some privacy. Seconds later you hear the soft thump of a duffel bag hitting the carpet, and a small click. Then the bathroom door opens and the man shuffles in.

As the door shuts, you dare to open your eyes again. He's switched off the light, but there's a small sliver leaking under the door, and you see shadows move over the floor. There is something soothing about the noises of running water and the clacks of his belongings on the marble countertop, and it suddenly occurs to you how much you miss travelling withsomeone.

Once he's done and the bathroom door opens, you close your eyes again. The bed creaks under his weight, and the sheets rustle as he gets in. Something heavy hits the headboard, but not long after, he settles.

You sneak a peek through half-open eyes. The man is handsome. Sharp, but gentle features, a calm face, but he's lying on his back, stiff as if he's unused to the luxuries of a bed. His arms are on top of the blanket, and in your sleepiness you wonder why he's keeping his gloves on when he's sleeping.

"Good night," you offer gently, before sighing and pulling the blanket over your ears. The warmth and muted sounds give you a sense of safety, though it is minimal.

"Good night," he replies. "And thank you."

You wake up earlier than usual. The red numbers on the alarm clock blinks 06.38. Something feels off in the room, and for a fraction on a second you feel panic rise in your chest, but then you remember the night's events. The panic fades into a vague discomfort, and you grab your glasses. The man, his name is Bucky, hadn't he said so, is still sleeping, his gloved hand under the pillow and one foot dangling over the edge of the bed. It's kinda adorable.

As quietly as you can, you get out of bed and tip-toe to the bathroom, collecting your clothes on the way. You quickly change and put on contacts, leaving the glasses by the sink, not really daring to take a shower with the stranger in the room next to you. Instead, you splash water in your face and drag a brush through your hair, and with a short glance in the mirror, you deem yourself presentable.

Careful to bring your wallet and your key card, you exit the room and walk briskly to the elevator. The trip down to the lobby only take half a minute, but it feels like an eternity, and once you step out of the door, you're met with a buzz of voices from the lobby. Oh, yeah, the festival.

Luckily there's not much of a queue. Most people are on their way out, or to breakfast. The staff are too happy and smiling for it to be this early, and they're chatting and laughing with the guests, pointing their way to the restaurant or showing places of interest on the map on the counter.

"Good morning, what can I do for you?" one of the receptionists chirp.

You wince internally and focus on bringing a neutral expression to your face. It's not easy, as you'd rather be back in bed. "Yes, uh, I don't know if the night employee let you know, but there was a mix-up with my room last night."

The receptionist frowns, then smiles apologetically. "Ah, yes. There's a note here. Room 508, right?"

You nod. "Yeah."

He calls over his colleague, and motions for you to wait a moment. They talk silently together, sometimes gesturing to the screen, and then he starts typing and scrolling. "Looks like," he says, interrupting himself. "Yeah. Oh god. Lisa, will you look at this?"

His colleague looks at the screen over his shoulder. "Oh, jeez. Really? She's so gonna get fired, for sure," she mutters, then look up at you. "Yeah, so there's definitely been a mix-up. It looks like housekeeping accidentally marked Mr. Barnes' room as occupied when they had cleaned it. It shouldn't be possible, but to me it looks like… a glitch in the computer system –" She lets out a guttural groan, most likely thinking about the amount of work she now faces.

The one behind the screen clears his throat and gives you what is probably supposed to be a disarming smile, then continues to type. "So, I've updated the database with Mr. Barnes' new room, and yours of course. Would you accept a refund of the night, and a meal in the restaurant, free of charge, of course?"

You nod again, unable to find the words to express how not okay this whole thing has been. "If you offer the same to Mr. Barnes," you say, not sure where that comes from, though when you think about it, he's probably had just as rough a night as you.

"Of course. Here's his new key. Would you mind bringing it to him?" The receptionist's voice trembles ever so slightly, but he keeps the smile plastered on.

"Yeah. I can do that. Thank you for figuring out what happened." You inhale deeply, and rub the back of your neck. Your shoulders are stiff and the beginning of a headache murmurs along your temples.

Now that everything is resolved, you feel weirdly chunky. You drag your feet, your head feels like it's filled with cotton, but there's a lightness to your chest that you hadn't expected.

Back in the room, Bucky is still sleeping, and you decide to let him sleep as long as he needs, feeling almost protective over the man that sleeps so peacefully in the bed that should have been empty. Anyway, you're up now, there's no need to stay in the room. Just then, your stomach growls. Breakfast, then. And after that… Well, you'll see. You hastily scribble an explanation on a piece of paper, leaving it on his bag along with the new key card, then you hang a do not disturb on the door before you hurry down to the restaurant.

When you get back, stomach full and head light, the room is empty. His bag is gone and the only sign someone's been in there is a bed with rumpled sheets and the slightly unfamiliar, sleepy scent. You sit down on your own bed, surprised that you're not sure how you feel about being alone again. It's probably the shock still lingering in your system, you think, and shake the feeling off before picking up your art supplies and heading out into the city to work.

That afternoon, when you return to your room to change and relax before you start sorting through the day's drawings, there's a vase with hydrangeas on the small desk, along with a handwritten note that says thank you for letting me stay. The ball of blue and purple flowers makes you smile. Bucky obviously is a decent man, and you find yourself wishing you could get to know him, regretting not even peeking at the room number on the key.

It doesn't take long going through the drawings – you've been too distracted, really, to get any good ones done, and the project isn't due for another two weeks, so you don't have the pressure on you to finish it now, so you decide to take the hotel's offer and have dinner in the restaurant. It's a nice place, and you try to tidy up a bit, refreshing your make-up and putting on a clean top that feels nice against your skin.

The waiters all but trip over each other trying to please you, and you figure there's a nice note going with your name. You've always felt a bit uncomfortable eating by yourself in a fancy restaurant, but this time you're determined to just enjoy it, but you've brought a book just in case. And you're partly hidden behind a palm tree, so no staring from other guests, hopefully.

You're halfway through the meal when you feel your face tingling, as if someone's watching you. Stopping mid-chew, you look up. There's no one there. You swallow and put your fork down before glancing over your shoulder. Bucky is seated three tables behind you, but when you look at him, he looks away. Your heart speeds up a bit – christ! You'd forgotten how pretty he was.

He looks up again, and you smile before returning to your meal. At least you can let him know there's no hard feelings. Maybe, if you see him again, you'll pick up the courage to talk to him too.

The food is delicious, and the dessert is simply sublime. How the chef has managed to make the chocolate mousse so creamy and light is beyond your comprehension. Cooking has never been a strength, though you have a few signature dishes, but you know how to appreciate it. The red wine is perfectly paired, and when you're full and satisfied, you're almost ready to go talk to Bucky. But he's not there when you turn. Your heart drops for a moment, but then you remind yourself that he's a stranger, and probably has his own life. All you can do to quench the disappointment, is a short detour through the bar, where you pick up a nice gin fizz, before you head back to your room and call it a night.

The room feels too empty now. The bed is just as soft as it were before, the covers slide over your skin like water, but something is missing. You can't sleep. The room is too silent. The air is too still. You toss and turn and can't seem to find a comfortable position. In the end you roll over on your side, facing the empty bed. Hugging the pillow, you sigh and pull your knees up to your chest. It's too cold. The blanket isn't thick enough to give enough comfort tonight.

Suddenly there's a soft knock on the door. Your heart beats hard in your chest as you cross the floor to look through the peephole. The hallway is empty.

There's another knock, and you jump, bumping your head against the door. It's coming from the other one. The twin door. Slowly, you remove the safety chain and unlock it, opening it just an inch or so.

"Sorry," the person on the other side says.

For a moment you forget how to breathe. The person on the other side is Bucky, smiling sheepishy, and looking like a fucking model in his pyjamas.

"Hello," you answer, resisting the urge to smooth down your t-shirt.

"I just, I just wanted to apologise," he stutters, scrunching his eyebrow together. "For, for last night. I didn't mean to… I mean, I didn't mean to scare you, and the lady in the reception jumped to conclusions before I could explain, and…"

You blink and exhale slowly. "Not your fault," you mutter, too drunk on his presence to articulate properly.

"I know, but still. I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven."

"Good. Okay." His voice drags a bit, and it looks like he's turning away. You're just about to close the door when he turns back. "Listen… Uh, it's… Can I ask you a favour?"

Not ready for the conversation to be over yet, you nod. "Of course. What do you need?"

He grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck and hems and ums for a while. "This is gonna sound… You can say no, of course, but…"

"What is it?" The buzzing has returned to your ears, and you have to focus to hear what he's saying.

Bucky mutters under his breath, it looks like a screw it. "Last night was the best night's sleep I've had in, well years. I was wondering, maybe, if… if I could sleep in your room again."

You're a bit taken back by that. "What?" Your voice is squeaky.

"Yeah, no, of course, I understand." He smiles and inhales deeply. "Good night, Y/N."

It takes a second for your brain to unscramble. "Wait. Yes, I don't mind. It's nice with some company," you wheeze, holding the door open, though a small voice in the back of your head tells you that this is crazy. Not crazier than last night, you interrupt yourself, and open the door fully.

There's uncertainty in his steps as he enters your room, invited this time, unsure if he's heard correctly, but your smile makes him warm inside and he quickly crawls under the covers.

You leave the door ajar, and with a giddy smile and a racing heart you return to your own bed, climbing in with more grace than you thought you possessed. This is nice. The room is settled, it feels natural. You exhale and turn over on your side, facing Bucky. He's facing you too, and there's a sleepy smile in his eyes. As you place your glasses on the nightstand, he closes his eyes.

"Thank you," he breathes.

"Sleep tight, Bucky," you answer, but he's already drifted off, soft snores filling the room. You feel oddly at peace.

Part 2

Talking Books With @the-night-sky-is-beautiful!

[What is this and how can I participate?]

Meet my fellow European, everyone!

Today we discuss compulsive readings, book advice, and reading internationally.

Important note: I haven’t changed or edited any of the answers. I’ve only formatted the book titles so they were clearer, but nothing else. Because I’m incapable of shutting up, my comments are between brackets and in italics, so you can distinguish them clearly.

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[Image description: a square titled “Know the blogger”. Name & pronouns: Luise, she/her; country: Estonia; three adjectives to describe her: intelligent, kind & chill /end]

1. What do you think about planned/compulsive readings in schools?

well I quite like them. sure, the choices aren't always the ones I'd make and a lot of my friends usually find the books boring, but I most often find something good about the books. in our school we read about 6-8 books per school year and we can usually choose 3 or 4 of them ourselves. the mandatory books vary between Estonian classics or new (mostly young adult/teen) books. we also read 2 books in English (it's not our first language, Estonian is). I liked all of the books we read last year. I think it's great that it makes kids read more, but I also understand that some don't like reading at all. we should have more audiobooks in Estonian, then the kids who learn best from listening could have a more comfortable way of 'reading' too. one negative thing tho is that I often don't have the time to read other books that I'd like to read. I'm not the fastest reader but I enjoy it a lot. my personal reading list usually gets slowed down during the school year, but this year I've set myself a goal to better myself and read more.

[You can read new young adult books for school????? I have never ever ever met someone who had this. Am I too old? When I was in high school we only read classics! Spanish classics, at that.

However, I think it’s a wonderful idea!!!! Teens can’t always relate to classic books because the writing is difficult to understand, but by making them read contemporary books I’m sure people enjoy it a lot more.]

2. Last book you read in 24 hours?

Oh dear I’m not sure I remember... I don’t think I really even have done that with actual books (not children’s ones yknow)  I usually don’t have that much tims/attention and usually I just like a longer reading period more cuz then I can enjoy the book. 

3. Do you prefer 1st, 2nd or 3rd person POV?

I think 3rd person POV is the best in like novels and stuff and I like it the most. 1st and 2nd work in fanfiction tho haha

4. If you could get a literary tattoo right now, what would it be?

I think I'd get a small picture of Little My from Moomintroll

5. Is there any book advice that has stuck with you over a long time?

well I think the best thing is to enjoy the book and try to find a reason to read it even if it seems boring. I'd recommend finishing what you once start reading even if that is almost a year later or something. I have ended up liking a book even if I didn't really like reading it after all.

Free space!

also one thing I recommend to people who usually only read their own country's book: read from different places. a lot of amazing books are translated, not all great books are written in English. find hidden gems that have been translated to English (or your any other language) from small languages (like Estonian, not much of our literature goes international). I feel like as a person from a quite small country I'm very used to read internationally famous books translated and also some not so famous books too. I'm not too sure if people from the US for example even read books that aren't by an English native author (except some world classics). so yeah READ INTERNATIONALLY

[READ INTERNATIONALLY indeed!!!!! Here is my obligatory post about why translations are important]

You can follow her at @the-night-sky-is-beautiful​.

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Thank you, Luise! This was lovely.

Nex interview: Saturday, 23th of January

Part Seven: Demonstrations (Series 18, Part 7 of 9)

Series Eighteen: The Conference, Day One (9 Parts) Part Seven: Demonstrations (Series 18, Part 7 of 9) My masterlist is at the end of my bio.

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three) Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OC Rinda Parks Word Count: 1,208 Rating: M for Language Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh. Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3 for always being my sounding board! Thank you @cora-nova @silviasutton1989 @bobasheebaby​ @riseandshinelittleblossom​ for being my thirsty Bastien friends and for still being a part of the journey! Series Summary: This focuses on day one of the conference and Rinda’s interactions as a professional, friend, and girlfriend.

Chapter Summary: We learn a little more about Rinda’s grandpa and events from her life in Wisconsin. This series takes place in the beginning/middle of November, before the French Yellow Vests demonstrations that started November 17, 2018. My thoughts and prayers to everyone who is affected by these events.

Demonstrations

“So Tria, you told me that you only know conversational French and that you learned it from Grandma Lorinda.”

Rinda nodded. “True story. My grandpa was born in France but came to America when he was a child, and his parents encouraged him to assimilate as quickly as possible. He wanted to know more about his homeland and culture, but his parents were adamant that he Americanized as soon as possible. They came when the depression hit France, around 1931, before the U.S. clamped down on its immigration quotas. They wanted to leave a lot of bad memories from their war behind and just have a better life, achieve the American Dream. “Anywho . . . he died when I was pretty young, so Grandma Lorinda was only able to pass along the basics. And even then, she spoke French with a very heavy German accent and it was very dated, from the 1940s. Those are some of the reasons I don’t consider my French to be very good—and why Nadia has so many great stories about my gaffs.”

Nadia gave her friend a warm smile. “Actually, Rinda’s French isn’t as bad as she says it is and she picked up a lot from our trips. It’s just that our trips to France were cross-categorical. It would be a literature class through the English department, an immersion experience through the foreign language department, and a chance to research a historical location for the history class. We would have students read boring academic articles in French, and that’s where Rinda struggled.” Nadia shrugged. “We all struggle with that boring shit, even though part of being an academic is to pretend to love—and understand—that crap.”

“So where would you go, and Nadia, do you still do the tour with students?”

Nadia smiled at Drake. “Château des Milandes. It’s in France’s Aquitaine region, near the Dordogne River.” Nadia laughed. “And before you even ask, it’s about a six-, maybe seven-hour drive from Paris. At one point the château was owned by Josephine Baker, who was a prominent entertainer during the Harlem Renaissance.” Nadia nodded toward Rinda. “That’s Rinda’s main area of study, although she also helped me teach some of the French classics.”  

Rinda nudged Bastien and whispered in his ear. “She did a famous banana dance. True story!” Then she winked, knowing how much he hated bananas.

Nadia arched her brows but turned back to Drake. “She used the château during World War II to hide Jewish refugees and stash weapons for the French Resistance. That’s where the history department focused, and Rinda helped with that too.” Rinda quickly interrupted before Nadia could say anything else. “Yup. I’m a history dork and my grandpa was born in that area. I seriously geeked out in the historical records building whenever we went.”

Drake laughed. “So what did you do, Nadia?”

Nadia waved her hand in the air and assumed an air of ennui.

“I got drunk on wine, ate good food, and spoke French. That was my cultural contribution.” She smirked. “But all of that is over. Too many budget cuts, so I moved back to France. My wife is an American and was reluctant to leave, but it was the best choice we ever made.” She looked at Rinda. “I know things weren’t easy when you left, and I missed you, but you left at the right time. From a professional standpoint, there’s nothing left for you there and everything for you here.” She reached across the table to squeeze Rinda’s hand. “I’m so happy for you.”

“And I’m happy for you and Kathleen.”

The ladies smiled before Nadia turned back to Drake. “Your question about if we do the trip anymore. Since I’m not at the university I won’t do the trip anymore, but I don’t even know if they can do the trip for very much longer because of budget cuts and limited course offerings. And especially this year.”

Rinda nodded. “Jacques called me a few days ago to check if people from the university were still making the trip. A lot will happen between now and January, but he was worried about us. It sounds like there are constant demonstrations in Marseille and although we should be safe by the château he didn’t recommend going into Paris with students. Even during the week.”

Rinda felt the slight change of Bastien’s body posture when she said that, so she continued the conversation. “Nadia, what have you heard?”

Nadia smiled. “Well, you know me and Kathleen. We do plan on joining a gilets jaunes demonstration next Saturday. I want to make a difference without violence and I want to be a part of such a historical movement. I haven’t done anything like that since Act 10.” She sighed. “I’m opposed to Macron, but I’m not an extremist. I want to be supportive, but I’m sure it will go on longer and be more violent than we are prepared to deal with.”

Act 10. One of Scott Walker’s first acts as governor of Wisconsin, the start of the teacher demonization and the beginning of the end of the state’s education system as Rinda knew it. No more collective bargaining for teachers, so thousands of teachers went to the state capitol to protest. Rinda went for one day, on a weekend, to be a part of the experience. She didn’t want to leave her classroom, and even though it was exhilarating to be a part of something so big and so historical, she was afraid the entire time. Many people brought their children so they could experience the history. Perhaps if Henry were older she would have brought him, but it only took one person to destroy a peaceful demonstration. It was always in the back of her mind, and it terrified her.

Jameson went too, for several days. Extra security was needed to protect the protesters, so local departments across the state sent officers to help. Jameson walked the halls while protesters slept, making sure they were safe and their personal belongings were secure. It only took one person to start a chain reaction that would turn a demonstration into an insurrection. There was one day when Jameson had to stand next to piles of protesters’ personal belongings “to guard them.” But Jameson saw the bomb sniffing dogs carefully examine every pile. It only took sick fuck, with one explosive device . . .

It was a lot of overtime pay and they squirreled it away, knowing Rinda’s job security was in question for as long as Walker remained governor. But Rinda was relieved when the demonstrations were over, even though nothing changed and Act 10 still happened. Jameson was home safe with her and Henry.

In Wisconsin they were lucky. But in France? “Nadia, please be safe. You and Kathleen.” She shrugged, her way of trying to physically shake a bad feeling. “When it’s finally over we all need to make a trip to Château des Milandes. Laura too. And this time just wine and good food. No students. I might even limit my geek out in the historical records.”

Bastien smiled as he leaned down to kiss Rinda. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Introduction Reading III: The New Materiality of Design Ayano Honda, October 7th, 2019

For the very first time, I looked back at how I had formed the relationship between myself and the material world. As surrounded by full of material entities, my behavioral patterns are very dependent on how tools/machines/devices expect me to act, totally out of my consciousness. The material world is thoroughly organized and standardized, as a result of the continuous effort in the human history to “eliminate unnecessary expenditures of energy” and to “maximize efficiency”, as mentioned in the essay Workers of the World, Confirm! by Nader Vossoughian. 

Vossoughian discusses how the units of weights and measures regarded as the world standard today - such as meter, gram, Fahrenheit, A4 sheet paper - were internationally invented with the aim of bringing distant workers together and therefore advancing technology and economics more. Making a standard everybody’s obligatory standard is not an easy job since “no world format can function without a world that accepts it”. The author notes how a massive power asserts its authority in order to make the world obey the standard; the author takes an example of Nazis Germany’s operation that prohibited the citizens to use anything that were not applied to an A4 format with increasing “mandate for orderliness and efficiency was intensified”. The author's tone of voice is so pessimistic that he argues us being a “single world brain” and losing “business love, hatred, and all purely personal, irrational, and emotional elements which escape calculation.” 

What is problematic here?Have we lost something in exchange for the convenience “world standards” offer us? Well, for me, my second language English is a sort of the A4 format. Maybe I am sacrificing my compromise; I use the foreign words as a universal format that I assume is corresponding to what I want to mean. Sometimes I cannot express what I want. Even when I find the words, they might never be exactly same as the expressions in my mother tongue, however, I put expectation that it would be close… in a way, maybe I am living in a bit of a metaphorical world. I use an A4 format sheet because I expect that it would be scanned and copied without an unnecessary margin or would fit in a document folder from Flying Tiger. For me, using authorized standards does not make me sad. In spite of that, during the process of adjusting myself to the standard, I am inevitably dropping something I don’t even know, at the same time I am surely benefitting from. 

The intense observation on a door by Bruno Latour was also about the human’s attempt to create a universal format - the convinience brought by technological advancement - that sets humans free from hazard and labour. He looks at machines as the replacement of humans that could control undisciplined  human behaviours. However, even the nonhuman substitutes are supposed to be convenient and helpful, machines still have new defects and inconveniences that requite more advancements. In my opinion, this may suggest that nothing can discipline humans and eliminate human random behaviours in a true sense, even though man-maid authority such as a seatbelt and an automated door tells us how to act. Needing a format while escaping form the format… this paradox seems to be representing the nature of human.

Lastly, OOO - object-oriented ontology - suggests grasping the world in a way that everything exists remaining equal status without any hierarchy. Valuable/trashy, material/concept, fiction/nonfiction... we automatically calculate and label all things around us, however, they are probably what we create in our mind, as a standard on a quite personal level. Or aren't they...?

Orangeries and Conservatories

Most humans aren't aware that there may be a distinction between orangeries and conservatories, questioning that each phrases talk to a normally glazed building in the beginning discovered on stately homes and used to preserve flora through the wintry weather and now discovered   Pallet Furniture on many homes and used as a further room and a highly price-effective home extension. If something it is broadly believed that orangeries are a greater traditional model of a conservatory however in reality there may be a clean difference between what constitutes an orangery and what is defined as a conservatory and there are extraordinary policies that cover their construction.

Failure to understand the distinction ought to result in the construction of a constructing that fails to comply with applicable policies, which at exceptional causes complications whilst selling a property and at worst ought to result in orders for its demolition. To complicate subjects pallet furniture ideas  in addition there at the moment are hybrid alternatives to be had which can be in reality conservatories however with more than one the capabilities normally associated with an orangery.

We should first outline what constitutes a conservatory. For years building policies in England and Wales stated that a conservatory is a building that has now not less than 75% of its roof glazed with a translucent cloth, such as glass or polycarbonate sheeting. Whilst an replace issued in October 2010 through the Department for Communities and Local Government stated that the translucent substances percent become no longer relevant, my handling over 20 special neighborhood authority constructing control departments on account that that date has observed that they are, with out exception, all nevertheless following that tenet. The relevance of this definition is that furnished the conservatory has a ground area of less than 30 square metres and it's miles separated from the house by way of outside satisfactory doors it's miles exempt from most constructing regulations. Those that still observe are   diy pallet furniture  the ones overlaying protection elements together with safety glazing and electrical set up, however basically the general exemption means that constructing manage expenses do no longer need to be paid. Typically this protects £600-£seven hundred at the cost of the set up.

From the attitude of the builder the distinction between a conservatory and an orangery is that with a conservatory the burden bearing wall, the only that supports the roof, is the outside wall. With a conservatory roof being rather light-weight the roof can be supported at the aspect frames, couplers and corner posts and there is no want for lintels above the frames. Orangeries are extraordinary, and much like in the regular house construction the burden bearing wall is the internal wall and so with the additional implemented load there's a want for lintels above the side frames. This goes part of the way toward explaining the additional charges worried in an orangery.

An orangery functions a tumbler atrium style roof inset in to a flat roof phase. This flat roof section covers greater than 25% of the roof vicinity and is of route now not translucent, that is why a typical orangery isn't always exempt from building rules. By the time the vital building policies costs were paid, lintels mounted above the facet frames and the flat roof section has been built it is straightforward to see why orangeries are usually notably extra expensive than conservatories.

This additional cost for an orangery explains the recent release of hybrid orangery merchandise, which include the Loggia from Ultraframe, those might be defined as orangery fashion conservatories or a present day orangery. Essentially they may be conservatories, however with a plastered pelmet on the inside at the eaves degree, growing an orangery fashion experience and improved external cornice at the eaves level, partly pallet patio furniture  to beautify the external appearance however also to hide the rear elevation of the plastered internal pelmet. Whilst those hybrid products may also have more than one the elements of an orangery because the glass roof extends the full length of the roof and there is no flat roof phase they're still defined as a conservatory and so enjoy the building regulations exemptions.

Whether you pick an orangery, a conservatory or a aggregate of the 2 it is essential which you apprehend the distinctions and ensure that your venture fully complies with relevant guidelines. You should never enter in to a task without first checking along with your local authority whether or not you require constructing regulation approval.

Vivaldi Conservatories, the leaders among orangeries and conservatories installers. Successfully run by way of SalesMaker - An expert sales and advertising and marketing organisation.

Between Hope and The Dream In the Land Between

There is a place we all hate to find ourselves. In the land between. Between one top situation and the subsequent true state of affairs. Between a great period of life and the subsequent precise duration of lifestyles. We're currently in that vicinity, and it's hauntingly acquainted. Still, Personal Training Wynwood we are God's human beings; we study what we are able to while we are here, and we do not give up.

The land between appropriate locations is littered with bitter, humiliating, and despairing enjoy. This is land between hope and the dream, in no way pretty either, terrain tantalisingly alien to each.

The land among is where we discover ways to stay inside the day even as conserving onto the imaginative and prescient hoped for, though now not yet visible.

In the land between we examine now not to Best Personal Training Wynwood awareness on being inside the land between.

It doesn't suggest that being inside the land among is something we have to avoid. We can't keep away from it, so why strive? Though the land between is a barren region, it piques boom possibilities, so we sit down in the ugliness of those emotions, collect aware reminiscence of them, and, with Jesus there, we project out of that desert, into the present moment, believing God has a plan to get us to our dream. We get prepared, and we live prepared.

The land among is a topography of criticism and exasperation, but it is also a vista replete with the availability of guidance for the common-or-garden of heart.

Jesus teaches us to accept as true with while every scaffold of security is ripped from our hold close.

And then, as we eventually envisage Wynwood Personal Training  the dream emerge into reality, we find our newfound consider is fundamental device for what God has been making ready earlier for us to do.

Lesson Planning

A lesson plan is a instructor's special notes on how she intends to conduct a particular magnificence or lesson for each day. It is a critical issue of a coaching process. Some colleges have particular codecs, which the trainer has to comply with, at the same time as some leave it absolutely in the instructor's palms.

The want for a lesson plan is more in colleges than schools or universities. This is due to the fact coaching kids requires Online Tesol Certification extra planning than coaching adults. However, they are not obligatory in all faculties.

Components

A typical lesson plan has the subsequent additives:

Title of the lesson Duration Materials required Objectives Warming up technique Instructions for the complete lesson Instructions for ending the lesson Summarization Evaluation Homework or initiatives or assignments Time for college kids' doubts and questions This plan describes in detail the targets of every lesson and coaching for sporting it out. It lists the specified aids and strategies for teaching. Activities are described in element here in addition to evaluation procedures. A proper lesson plan links each lesson with the previous one and ensures a clean continuity for the scholars. Key factors are summarized on the quit of each class and assignments are surpassed out. All revision tasks also are located here.

Benefits

It not only enables the trainer to behavior a class efficiently and correctly but additionally shall we her examine how each class went. Teachers notice down the excessive and coffee factors of every lesson and this facilitates them to enhance destiny training. Moreover, once a lesson plan has been made for an entire 12 months, it could be reused with minor modifications. This saves the academics a good buy of time and effort, which they could commit to other coaching tasks.

Lesson Planning in TESOL

TESOL stands for Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages. It is a course offered by the American TESOL Institute (ATI). The TESOL path covers each the TEFL route (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) and the TESL (Teaching English as a Second Language) direction.

This planning is an imperative a part of the TESOL course. There are 9 Phases or parts in the TESOL direction, where Phase five is 'Lesson Planning'. This Phase is in addition divided in to three components - Guidelines, Format and Samples. Phase 5 teaches trainee instructors the whole lot approximately lesson planning. This Phase describes what it's miles, its significance and the way to create properly lesson plans.

After completing the TESOL course, a person becomes capable of planning training in an effective and efficient way, which, in flip, helps him to teach successfully. Thus, the TEFL route enables one to grow to be a gifted instructor.

The TEFL path from ATI is notably valued by numerous the world over reputed instructional institutes. Thus, A Tesol Certification from ATI now not most effective makes aspiring teachers eligible to educate throughout the globe but also increases their possibilities of having a good English coaching task anywhere inside the world.

A Compilation Of The Best Beauty Tips

Do you feel insecure about your appearance? Do you wish you could change the way you look? No matter what you look like, there are plenty of things you can do to make yourself more beautiful. long hairstyles for men  This article will provide you with some beauty tips that can make anyone look and feel better.

Steam your face. You can do this by placing your face over a hot bowl of water with a towel over your head. This will open up your pores and draw out impurities and bacteria. You should clean your face, then rinse it with cold water so you close your pores back up.

Wear gloves when you are applying tanning lotions and keep a towel near you. This will help you if you make a mess and to keep your palms from turning orange or tan. You should also make sure to pull your hair back so your tan is evenly applied.

Spray damp hair with "hot spray" prior to blow drying. Such products help hair dry faster and guard against split ends. They are commonly available at pharmacies or department stores. "Hot sprays" help moisturize hair, and even make it smell good!

To keep feet looking beautiful, especially during the warmer, dryer summer months, try applying Vaseline to them every day. It will keep them smooth and soft. Then go get yourself a pedicure and a pair of brand new sassy sandals, and you'll have the best looking feet of the season.

Use a misting spray to set makeup. After you are finished fully making up your face, lightly mist yourself with a sprayer. This will set your makeup, keeping it in place longer before requiring you to touch it up. This is perfect for long nights out or events such as weddings.

To conceal imperfections, use some pink lipstick. Don't actually put lipstick on your flaw, but by wearing this lipstick that goes with everything, it will draw attention to your lips. With a combination of concealer and great looking lips, your blemishes will be hardly noticeable.

Pat moisturizer into your skin instead of rubbing it. Most people rub their moisturizer into their skin. This can actually disperse the moisturizer to different parts of your skin or even remove most of it entirely. Try patting it over your skin instead. Your skin will absorb it more evenly.

To improve your lip color application, always apply lip balm first. The lip balm will leave your lips soft and moisturized, and will allow your lip color to go on smoothly. Try using a basic, untinted lip balm so that you don't effect the color of the lipstick or lip gloss you're using.

For soft feet, apply lotion or Vaseline and wrap in cling wrap before going to bed. You should then put socks on your feet. You should do this at least once a week for the softest feet. This will prepare even the driest feet for summer and wearing sandals.

Women get older, but their look often doesn't keep up. As long as you are happy, that is alright. However, if you're trying to find work or need to find out how to look your best, you may need to ask someone who has knowledge in these things.

Keep a tube of red lipstick around. Red lipstick looks great on a wide range of skin tones and face types. It can really accent your face, and draw attention to your lips. Beware if you have a sore, or a reason you do not want people to look.

Beauty isn't just about genetics. It's also about effort. If you put a little extra time into looking your best, you'll be sure to see results. Do your best to apply the advice in this article to your life. It won't be long before you're feeling more confident and more attractive.

Improving Your Look With Wonderful Fashion Tips

Fashion is more important than many people think. What people wear has a big impact on what others think of you. Short hairstyles  That's why you have to make sure what you wear is attractive and flattering to you. Here are some ways to make sure you leave a positive impression on everyone with your style.

Dress in a way that accurately reflects your age. If you are a young professional woman, do not go to work dressed like someone in their teens. On the other hand, if you are a teenager, do not dress in a style that an older woman would feel comfortable in.

If you have to wear stockings, make sure that you wear some that fit you very well and are not too large or too small. Wearing the wrong size can make you very uncomfortable and it does not look good for you if you have to adjust them in public areas.

Look inside fashion magazines to get an idea of what you should be wearing for this season. You don't have to get clothes that directly match what the latest fashion is. However, you can form a style that is very similar so people may know you are up to date with the latest fashion.

Lip gloss is a girl's best friend! There is nothing worse than dry, chapped, uncomfortable-feeling lips. That's where a pretty gloss comes in! Whether you like the super-glossy look or something a little more subdued, lip gloss is a great way to keep your lips looking and feeling their best throughout the day.

A good fashion tip is to select your clothing for the day based on color. You don't want to step outside with your shirt and shorts clashing because they're complimentary colors. Experiment with different color combinations and see which colors you like and which color combinations you don't like so much.

How to apply your makeup depends on where you are going. For example, if you are going for an interview, keep your makeup looking natural and highlight your best feature. For instance, if you have beautiful eyes, wear a soft color that enhances the color of your eyes. If your best feature is your cheekbones, add a little color to the apple of your cheeks.

Make sure that you use a shampoo with a conditioner built in if you have unmanageable hair. This will put a protective layer over the cuticle of your hair, keeping it from taking in too much moisture. Furthermore, it is important not to use products that state they "volumize."

If you are in a battle with frizz, you should avoid rubbing your hair dry when you exit the shower. This will break hair and cause more episodes of frizzing. The best thing to do is wring it out in a towel. After you have done that, unwrap your hair and comb it.

Crocheted clothing is back in style once again. The most popular pieces this season happen to be crocheted vests. These comfy vests come in a multitude of colors, patterns, and thicknesses to add a cozy and homemade look to any outfit. Try wearing them over your plain shirts or dresses.

Have yourself professionally fitted for a bra. An ill-fitting brassiere is not only unflattering, but it affects how your clothing fits. Once you know your true size, buy a few bras in different styles and cuts. A plunge or demi-cup bra, a strapless bra, and a convertible bra give you versatile options.

When purchasing jeans, go for timeless looks. For example, classic straight leg or boot cut jeans never go out of style. Opt for either of these styles in either a dark denim or slightly faded to remain in style throughout the years. By opting for these styles, you will always be in style no matter the current fashion.

You can't go wrong with a pair of shades. If you have had a rough, sleepless night, or you just don't feel like putting on makeup, shades can be your best friend. By wearing them, you can hide your puffy eyes, and they always add some style for any event.

If you want to look better in any combination of your wardrobe, exercise often. A physique that stands tall with confidence makes any outfit look better. You do not have to have chiseled abs. Even a regular walking regimen of light intervals can make your spine stand up enough to make a difference.

For a fun and simple daytime look, wear your hair in a casual up-do. Use an accessory that coordinates with your outfit to hold most of your hair in place. Allow some gentle pieces to fall out and frame your face. You will feel cooler, and look casually appealing to everyone!

Make a splash when you go out by taking the tips in this article and using them to update your wardrobe. Look fashionable and look great everywhere you go. Make people remember you by using the information in this article, and you'll be unforgettable and make a strong statement without saying a word.

Improving Your Wardrobe While On A Budget

If you are not used to dressing fashionably, you might find it challenging. It is difficult to figure where to start and hard to figure out what looks right on you. There are many things you need to consider, and a lot of information you need to know. Below are some great tips and tricks to get you started on looking great.

You should always own a black pair of pants in a smooth fabric. You can wear those for a casual occasion if you pair it with a casual top. You can wear the same pair of pants for a more formal occasion if your pair it with a more satin top with sparkly jewelry.

The best fashion tip you can get is to be yourself when it comes to what to wear. People have different opinions about what is fashionable, and you may aspire to be something you're not. The truth is, no matter what your style, you are always in fashion when you remain true to yourself.

You should always own a white blouse in your basic wardrobe. You can wear practically any color bottom to match. Pair it with slacks for a casual look for work. Wear a full skirt for times when you are going out for a nice dinner. Wear jeans with it for an active look.

A great looking purse can complement your outfit, but make sure it goes with whatever other bag you are carrying. For example, when you have a laptop bag, the two pieces should match. Do not carry to matching bags, instead use coordinating colors or fabrics.

It is not very easy to wear plaid, particularly when you are looking to adopt a look that is softer than you normally have. If you must wear plaid, make sure that you pair it with something that is feminine like skinny jeans or a bag that has ruffles on it.

Wear clothes that flatter your body type. Just because something is in style does not mean that you should wear it. Every style was created with a certain body type in mind. For example, skinny jeans were not made to make people look skinny; they were made for people that already are thin.

Coloring your hair at summertime is a good way to add some fashion to your ensemble. But make sure you keep your hair in great health, to avoid color fading. Conditioning is an essential part of hair treatment or it will end up damaged.

Buy outfits that promote an hour-glass figure. No matter what the decade, that feminine outline is classic and always fashionable. This is why actresses like Marilyn Monroe are still considered beautiful even with the new model trend toward long and lanky women. Curves are always in as it implies femininity and fertility.

If you are a mother, fashion is probably the last thing on your mind, But know that it is possible to look good and practical at the same time. Whether taking the kids to the park, sporting events or any other event, spruce up your look with a nice T-Shirt, knee-length skirt and a pair of flat sandals!

Wearing bangs is an easy way to cover up a fairly large forehead, but it does not look good when you have one that is much too big for your face. The best way to minimize a large forehead is to wear an asymmetrical bang that is not too full.

Visit consignment stores for great value on formal wear. Women usually only wear formal gowns once or twice for those special occasions before they do not want to wear it anymore. You can find gowns that are almost brand new at a fraction of the price of a new gown.

The bra you wear can have a major effect on your look. A stretched out bra that rides up your back is going to do nothing for your chest. On the other hand, push up bras can make your breasts look fake. Try to stick with a bra that has undwire and a little padding.

Always break in a new pair of shoes before a special occasion or a long awaited vacation trip. There is nothing worse than finding that a new pair of shoes pinches or rubs when you are in the middle of a wedding reception or walking on a guided tour of a fabulous new city.

If you want to look better in any combination of your wardrobe, exercise often. A physique that stands tall with confidence makes any outfit look better. You do not have to have chiseled abs. Even a regular walking regimen of light intervals can make your spine stand up enough to make a difference.

If you don't have the first clue how to look better, it can make your life difficult. However, you don't have to struggle too hard. Just remember to use what's listed above to help you look your best. When you make the most of these suggestions, you will see an improvement to your attitude.

Great Tips To Help You Look Fashionable

Fashion trends change all the time; how will you ever stay current? The answer is you're not! Remember, fashion is what you make it. Mehandi Designs  This article will show you the ropes.

Don't be afraid to top off your look with an awesome hat. In days gone by, it was commonplace for women and men to wear hats on a daily basis. What was once the height of fashion has, unfortunately, fallen to the wayside in modern times. Be adventurous, and finish off your look with an ultra-cool fedora or a pretty sun hat.

If you like a shirt or skirt think about getting it in more than one color. Because clothes come in so many varying cuts and styles, you're likely find it difficult to find clothes that fit well for your body type. When you do just get more than one so that you can feel great more often.

Never buy a dress, skirt, shoes or blouse just because the sale price is too good to pass up. Remember, no dress or other clothing item out there is ever worth purchasing unless it fits your fashion sense perfectly and accentuates your body. It will simply gather dust on a hanger and end up wasting your money.

If you are used to dressing down but you would like to spruce up your style, try buying some sparkly accessories. These will make your outfit look brighter and you will not have to change your entire style. You can make a plain outfit fit for any occasion by changing the style of accessories.

Do not use sponges to apply your liquid and cream based foundations and blushes. You will lose product in the sponge every time you do. Additionally, the sponge becomes a breeding ground for germs. Instead, use clean fingertips for application, switching fingers or cleaning them between different products or colors.

Hats are a great accessory to match any kind of outfit. For men, there are the typical fisherman hats and baseball caps, but for women, the possibilities run much deeper. For instance, you can wear a cute sun hat, floppy hat or beach hat with any casual dress you own.

A good fashion tip is to start experimenting with your style if you've become very bored with your wardrobe. You can do this by simply trying out a new type of clothing that you've never worn before such as a scarf or certain kind of dress. This will definitely freshen up your wardrobe.

Common wisdom is to avoid horizontal stripes if you happen to be on the heavy side. Horizontal stripes stretch out the appearance of your body's width, which will cause you to appear even bigger. Look for patterns with vertical lines so your height is emphasized instead of your width.

Throw away that sweater with the hole in it or those jeans that are barely staying together at the crotch. They may feel like old friends, but if you're spotted in them, you're going to be viewed as the neighborhood bag lady. It's easy to forget that your shirt is stained if you suddenly have to leave the house. Buy and wear clothing that you won't mind being seen in.

Be confident. It doesn't matter how you dress if you don't feel that you look good. Work on your self-esteem. Don't just follow trends. Buy clothing that you feel looks flattering. Trust your own opinion before listening to anyone else. If you feel good about yourself, your confidence should shine through.

You are going to want to increase your wardrobe for every occasion possible. This means you are going to want to get workout clothes, formal attire, business casual attire, and many other types of clothing so that you can be ready for any type of occasion that arises for you in the future.

Keep some basic items, like scarves, camisoles and cardigans in many colors in your wardrobe. You can use these to layer and make many different styles from the same articles of clothes. This is a great way to provide your self with many different fashion options for less money.

Try keeping your outfits simple. Using a minimalist approach when it comes to your ensembles can actually have a big impact on your appearance. Try keeping your clothing choices subdued and your accessories to a minimum. When you're not focusing on busy prints and patterns, bold colors, or tons of accessories, it makes for a clean and attractive look.

When you look in your closet and can't find anything to wear, it's time to take stock and clear out the old to make way for the new. Donate or sell anything that you haven't worn in a year or more. Also get rid of items that no longer flatter your figure.

Even though others may teach you a little about fashion, you have to find your own style. Being fashionable means letting your personality stand out. Avoid simply imitating others. Use the tips you found here to upgrade your personal fashion.

Taming the Mandalorian

Authors note: Okay so, first post. Big fanfiction fan, started out on Wattpad when I was 13, so this is an upgrade.

Summary: You are traveling with the Mandalorian as a Force sensitive babysitter for Grogu. The Mandalorian is very closed off in the beggining, with a few rare moments of affection. You have a talent for making even the most dangrous of beasts relax under your touch. Will you be able to tame the Mandalorian beast the same way?

Warnings: An obligatory English isn't my first language, being chased by a wild animal, biting, mentions of hunting, no mention of gender so I guess it's x gn!reader;

Word count: 4k

Traveling with the Mandalorian wasn't easy. If it was, everyone would do it. Ever since the Mandalorian took you with him, it's been.... Interesting, to say the least. You are technically here because you're with the force and you need to help Grogu. On the other hand.... You think Mando likes the fact that you clean and organize the crest, take care of him when he's hurt and make sure he eats well. He would never admit it though. Mando has been alone for many years, and his soldier mentality and stoic personality have made him used to the practical and almost un-empathetic life. That was... Until you came along.

You and Mando are in a forest, on a planet in the Outer Rim. You are looking for food. It was supposed to be short mission... Mando gets the bounty and you go home, but it turned into a giant night long stake out in the forest. You managed to find some edible berries and mushrooms, hoping that that will give you enough energy to stay up for the night. You don't usually come on missions, but this time Mando needed back-up, and whilst you aren't a warrior or bounty hunter, you could still use a blaster well enough to protect yourself. So, with Grogu on the ship and you and Mando stuck in a forest, the adventures began.

"It's getting dark... We won't have energy tomorrow if just eat berries and mushrooms..." You tell Mando as you walk through the deep forest.

“You say this like it’s my responsibility that we have food.” Mando turns his back to you, looking towards the ridge above the forest before speaking. “We could hunt, we could forage, or we could starve. It’s not my choice…”

"I already found the berries and mushrooms! I can live off that.... It's you who insisted that's not enough" You say, pointing out that fact that the food you found wasn't enough for him.

“How do you think this works?” Mando turns in your direction, his arms crossed on his chest. The forest sits silent around you, not even insects or small rodents scurrying about.

The fire behind you continues to crackle. “I insist that berries, while helpful, are not enough for a long period of time. We can eat all the berries we want but at some point we’ll need protein.”

"Well, you find protein then." You start defensively "I found food my food!"

Mando lets out a heavy sigh and mumbles “Fine.” Mando turns back towards the ridge above the forest, looking for a sign of game nearby. He kneels down to inspect the tracks in the dirt.

“They’re large, definitely not the footprints of a Rodian or a Noghri but they’re also smaller than a Trandoshan or a Wookiee. Ronto, probably”. Mando gets back to his feet, brushing the  dirt off his knee. “Follow me, I found some tracks leading down the hill.” He takes off through the forest, you close on his heels as you both move towards the game. He slows to a stop, crouching behind a small bush as a Ronto comes into view. The Ronto eats peacefully, unaware of your proximity.

"What's that?" You ask, not recognizing the species.

“A Ronto.” Mando answered. The creature has a long neck that extends high above the bush Mando and you hide behind. Its small ears are folded back against its head. The Ronto pauses as it chews on a root, and Mando raises his blaster, lining up his shot. You feel a sting in your gut. You never actually saw an animal get shot an hunted... It was almost a pity to shoot this poor Ronto, peacefully eating in its forest. You couldn’t let Mando kill it. Would you starve? Maybe. But... You couldn’t stand to watch it die. "No! Don't shoot it!"

“Why not?” He asks, turning his head towards you, eyes still focused on the beast ahead “I have to eat!”

"Don't kill the poor animal for your own needs! Especially not in its own house!" You know that what your saying is strange, but a part of you just can't watch Mando kill an innocent animal.

Mando sighs, looking at you while the Ronto continues to chew it’s root, unaware of the impending doom that awaits it. “Would you rather we starve to death here in the middle of nowhere?”

"Yes.."You say as you walk up to the Ronto. The Ronto looks at you, its eyes following the strange being that’s intruding on its territory to eat. It drops the root, its ears perking up as a warning. Mando turns, looking at you. “Please… come back.” You pet the Ronto, looking straight at Mando. If you could see Mandos face, you guarantee that you would be able to see his eyes roll. The Ronto lets out a low rumble, its tail wagging as it sniffs at the strange sensation of touch before resting its head on your legs.

“This is a horrible idea…” Mando says with a sigh. To him, this is ridiculous.. Why aren't you letting him kill an animal for food? Mando rolls his eyes, looking down at the creature as it continues to wag its tail. “You’re ridiculous.” The Ronto lets out a low grumbly sound, looking up at you with large, unblinking eyes. You pet the Ronto for a while whilst Din is looking at you annoyed. The Ronto lays down on its belly, rolling over on its side and exposing its large, fluffy stomach. It lets out a low rumble, letting you know it wants its stomach rubbed.

You rub his stomach. This animal is starting to grow on you... He's kind of cute... "And to think you wanted to kill this cute little thing...."

“Cute?” Mando looks at you and the beast before you. The Ronto closes its eyes, clearly enjoying the sensation from the petting.“I don’t see anything cute here, just food.” Mando laughs as

the Ronto nuzzles its head deeper into your hands, its large nostrils snuffling at the air. “How can you find a huge, smelly creature like this cute?” The Ronto lets out a loud grumble,

its ears perking up as it pushes its head against your thigh. “It’s not cute....” Din says, watching as the Ronto continues to push its large head deeper into your hands. “It’s not a pet, it’s food.”

The Ronto stands up and happily runs into the forest, as if looking for something

“What the-“ Mando takes a step towards the Ronto and watches as it chases off through the trees. “Get back here! You’re still my food!”

"No!"You say as you make Din's blaster fly into my hand. Mando groans as you use the force to take his blaster from him. “You can’t be serious right now!” he says, watching as the Ronto continues to chase after some imagined destination. "How can you just.... kill that?"

“It’s just a Ronto.” Mando turns and watches as the hairy creature continues to chase after its imaginary goal. It’s not the cutest thing he’s seen, that honor belongs to Grogu, but it’s also not the worst thing he’s ever seen. “Rontos are food, plain and simple.”

You hand the blaster back to Mando. In that moment, the Ronto runs back, a nest of sorts in its mouth. The Ronto puts the nest with eggs in front of us and then lies on its back again, as if to want more pets. You look at the large eggs. They're almost the size of your hea... "Are these your babies?" You ask the Ronto as you pet it. "Do they lay eggs?" you ask Mando.

“Rontos typically give birth to live young. These are probably un-fertalized eggs of some other animal. Rontos eat eggs.” He looks at the nest, the white and brown eggs sitting like treasure. "Did you bring us food?" You ask the Ronto as you pet it more

"Here, eat these for protein" you tell Mando handing him the unfertilized eggs. Mando takes the eggs and looks at them in his hand. He looks at you, eyes wide of the prospect of eating eggs brought to him by a ronto he wanted to hunt.

...

The Ronto falls asleep next to the fire a few meters away from you. The three large eggs boiling in a large bucket. You smirk at Mando. Mando doesn’t say anything, still trying to grasp the fact that he was given eggs and asked to make something of them. He looks at you then the Ronto, then back at you before sitting down a few feet away from the small fire. “These things should cook rather quickly.”

"See? Karma is real"

“What does karma have to do with you giving me the Ronto’s eggs to prepare?”

"If you shoot at the Ronto maybe it would have ran away, or maybe it was sick and then inedible. But, I befriended the Ronto and I got guaranteed food"

Mnado watches the Ronto sleep next to the fire, its eyes closed.“Maybe you were right about not killing it.” The fire crackles, the water in the bucket beginning to boil, the unfertilized eggs beginning to cook.

"I'll name him Bert"

“Name… the Ronto… Bert?” Mando reaches down into the bucket, pulling out two of the eggs before placing them on plates. “That’s the name you chose?”

"What's wrong with it?" You say defending your name choice.

“Whatever call it whatever you want since we’re not going to see it anyway.” Mando takes another bite out of the egg, his eyes still on the sleeping Ronto. You notice that he has yet to touch his second egg. Mando  puts his plate onto a rock nearby, the two of you sitting around the fire as you stare at the eggs and the small nest, the Ronto still fast asleep next to the fire. “He’s still sleeping?” Mando asks, looking over at you.

"Yeah. He's cute when he sleeps."

“He’s cute?” Mando looks over at the nest, as if he’s never once thought of the animal as cute, even in its sleeping form. “Never once would I have guessed you’d call a Ronto cute.”

"I think all Animals are cute"

“So… you think the womprats are cute?”

"I can't know if I've never seen them"

“I’m telling you, they aren’t cute.” Mando pauses, looking over at you to see your reaction.

"What do you think is cute?"

Mando thinks for a moment “Grogu…” He looks over at you, waiting for a response.

"Of course he is.... He's the cutest... Our little baby..." You say. You remeber the first time you met the little green creature... He really is abnouxiously cute...

“He is the cutest. He’s also the one that steals your food, throws tantrums, plays with dangerous objects, and nearly burns down the Crest multiple times. But yes, he’s the cutest little green being in this galaxy.” Mando says. His response catches you off guard. Mando never openly talked about his love for his adopted green son. Well, Mando never talked openly about anything.. "You aren't as heartless as people think you are" you tell him with a chuckle.

“People think I’m heartless?” Mando turns to look at you, his expression softening slightly as the realization dawns on him. “I thought people thought I was just a mean Mandalorian.”

"I think to them that's a synonym"

“I suppose it is,” he says, thinking for a moment. “I have heart, you know.”

"Oh I know" you say. You remember the small moments of affection he shows... The way he lets Grogu play with the ball in the cockpit, the way he actually laughs at Grogu when he does something funny... He even showed his affectionate side to you, praising your work on cleaning the ship and the food you try to cook him. And the faint skin-to-skin touches when you were patching up his wound... the way her tanked you afterwards... So soft, so... gentle. Nothing like what he is usually…

“You do?” Mando looks over at you, a glimmer of curiosity in his voice as he waits for your response.

"The way you take care of Grogu.... You love him more than you admit it" You don't mention the moments between you two.. It's best not to, you think.

“I… admit, I do love him. More than I’ve ever admitted before.”

"I'd probably try to pet Rancors too" You say into the air as you look at Bert the Ronto sleeping. The wild animal you tamed with a few pets and kindness...

“And what do you think would happen if you tried to pet a Rancor?” Mando stares at you, waiting for your answer. “It’s the size of a large ship. I don’t think it would be interested in cuddles.” Mando looks over at you, his expression turning towards one of concern. “I hope you wouldn’t actually try to pet a rancor, would you? It is a dangerous predator after all.”

"Maybe it's the most dangerous looking things that are the most kind hearted" You say. You weren't only referring to the Rancor....

“There is no amount of kindness in a Rancor. Trust me, I’ve had to deal with them plenty.” Mando looks around the small clearing, still waiting for the Ronto to wake up. But he also looks more curious now, as if he’s starting to question your idea that animals are nice.

...

A few weeks later you two landed on Tatooine. You visited Peli first. As you and Mando- well, you and Din... The Mandalorian has recently told you his real name... As you and Din stand there waiting for Peli, we see a womp rat in her trash. "That's a womprat" Din tells me. Din stares at the womprat, as if waiting for you to say something about it, or do something about it. “Yeah, that’s a womprat alright. It’s in the name.” He pauses for a moment as he tries to understand your intentions. “Are you going to pet it?”

That thing was ugly. It was hairy in all the wrong ways; it looked like something from your worst nightmares. But you were too proud to go back on your promise that you would try to pet a womprat. "Yes! It's not as ugly as you described it!" You say you approach the ugly beast. You slowly approach the womprat and pet it slowly. At least the feeling of petting it isn't too bad.

You hear Din sigh

“If it bites your fingers, please don’t complain to me.” Din looks away, as if he already knows that the womprat will bite you, and he knows the pain and consequences that will come from it. The womprat still isn’t bothered by your presence, as you move even closer to pet it.

*Nom*

You hear a bite, and a small squeak coming from the rat. Your finger is in the womprats’s mouth, and although it only seems to be playing, its sharp teeth are still biting down on your finger. Din looks over at you, and although his expression is still one of concern, you notice that he was right. The womprat looks up at you and squeaks, still holding your finger in its mouth with a bit of force. You pet the womprat with your non bitten hand. Now, you could leave the creature and admit Din was right. But you're not going to do that. You were not going to give him the satisfaction of being right. "He's just playing!" You say.

“I did warn you!” Din looks over at you, his expression changing toward one of mild amusement. “That looks like it hurts though, it was a little bite. What are you going to do now?”

"I don't care!" You proudly say as you pull your finger away. There is only a bit of blood This seems to make the womprat like you as he turns on his back and lets you pet it.

Din watches you pet the womprat, his expression still changing from amusement to confusion as the rat seems to be… enjoying it. “Is it… purring?” The rat squeaks again, this time it sounds like he’s… enjoying being pet. “Huh, I guess those teeth aren’t just meant for biting…” Din watches you pet the womprat, his mouth turning into a smile. “Seems like you’re right, it’s actually quite friendly.”

“You going to bring him along with us then?” Din asked slightly concerned by what you will answer.

"No. I know you're not an... Animal lover" You answer. You could see Dins body language relax.

“You know me pretty well then… I’m pretty used to being with people who love animals, but have never met someone who loves every animal.” He turns back to you. “You’re really committed to your idea that all animals are friendly, aren’t you?”

"All animals are friendly, until proven otherwise!"

...

Later that day, we went to this guy. He was supposed to bring Din to a fellow bounty hunter on Tatooine. The guy had a Rancor, that got loose. Din was right. It was a giant beast, it looked like a giant scaly, hairless lizard thing. Not very cute, definetly. Din was more cautious this time. He kept you behind him, you can't guarantee safety with a Rancor. Din stands still, his eyes locked onto the Rancor in front of him. His hands hover slightly close to his blasters in case the creature gets aggressive. He doesn’t say a word, but he stares at you out of the corner of his eye, wondering what you’ll do given that it is both dangerous and also an animal. The Rancor started running towards you... Din pulls your arm and you start running. Mid run we separated, and when Din turned around, he didn't see you. But he saw the Rancor standing still.

Of course his mind went to the worst. Din’s heart sunk when he saw the Rancor charging right towards you. The creature was massive. He immediately pulled you to safety, and when he saw you get separated after the creature stopped, he started to run back in the opposite direction, looking for you. “Where are you?! Are you alright?!?” As he turned around, he noticed the Rancor, almost in a passive state… Could it actually be friendly?

"HEY DIN!"You yell with a smile from the top of the Rancor. You're riding a Rancor. You aren’t sure how it happened. One moment you were running from an angry Rancor, the next you’re on top of a calm Rancor. Din stares at the scene, almost expecting to wake up from a dream. He runs over to you in a state of both confusion and surprise, turning towards you. “You…?” Din can't even form words... This is the last thing he expected...

"You wanna ride it too?" You say as you pull the Rancor down so Din can get on it. Din stares at you, unsure whether you’re seriously offering or just joking around. He looks over at the Rancor, which seems completely unbothered by his presence. “You’re joking, right?” Din stares at you, not knowing how to respond. He looks over at the Rancor again, and after a moment, he decides to take you up on your offer. “Ok, sure.”

He slowly climbs onto the rancor, his voice still filled with skepticism and confusion. Din sits behind you and wraps his arms around you for support. You're glad he's sitting behind you, because you blush from the sudden contact you two have. You still aren't used to this... affection from Din.

“Is this safe?” Din looks up at you, his expression changing towards one of more curiosity as he sees how easily you’ve tamed the Rancor. Din also clings to you, not wanting to fall off of the Rancor. He stares at you in both confusion and wonder, as he asks… “You’re actually taking us on this creature to Mos Pelgo?"

"You and the Rancor have a lot in common" You say after a while. You can tell your comment made Din confused.

“Me and this… thing? How exactly do I and the Rancor have anything in common?” Din starts to laugh, unable to understand your reasoning.

"You both look tough, and you both like to touch me" You say looking at how tightly Din is holding onto you, the same way the Rancor relaxed after you touched him.

Din stares at you for a moment as he starts to realize what you’re insinuating, and then he starts to laugh. ”Is this what I’ve looked like to other people all these years?” Din asked  “That’s not true…” But his voice is slightly half-hearted, and you can tell that’s he’s slowly realizing that maybe he is a bit anti-social and difficult to deal with. He tightens his grip  on you, almost unintentionally, and he seems to realize it now. “Oh… ok… yeah fine. I am somewhat antisocial, I guess.” He lets out a long sigh.

You move your hand away and pet the Rancor instead. Din stares at your hand and the Rancor for a moment, as if deep in thought. “…wait… don’t tell me the Rancor likes being pet too!” He slowly raises himself up on his elbow and looks at the Rancor, with a look of both confusion and surprise in his eyes. “Huh? How many animals do you think are friendly? Is everything friendly?”

"Of course. I can tame anything...."

Din chuckles and shakes his head. “Right… you can tame anything huh?”

"I already tamed the untamable best...." You say.

“The Sandcrawler?” Din laughs even harder. “Is this some kind of joke? Or… are you actually serious?” Din stares at you, waiting to see how you’ll respond to this.

"No.... A Mandalorian"

Din goes silent at your words. Are you joking? Are you insulting him? What does that mean? Does it mean what he think it means? Do you... “Oh… you’re serious. You’ve tamed a Mandalorian.

Just how did you manage to do that?” Din says, trying to be cautious with his words. He doesn’t understand fully what you mean. Din still seems to be laughing, but he’s also clearly getting more and more curious about your answers.

"A Mandalorian is holding a me tightly. He is enjoying the food I cook him, the jokes I make and even the way I patched him up when he was hurt. I'd say I tamed the Mandalorian beast pretty well" You say cautiously. You have to stop your voice from trembling. Are you confessing to Din that you enjoy his rare affection? Is he understanding what you're saying, or is he seeing this as an insult? Is this going to make a difference? Is the rare affection going to stop? You don't want it to stop. You want him to continue laughing at your jokes, and the secret, gentle touches that almost feel wrong, but feel so right?

Din stares at you, and his expression changes towards one of amusement again. “So you’re saying I’ve been tamed by you?” He stares at you for a moment, as if trying to come to terms with that idea.

"Yes. You are the greatest of the beasts I've tamed." You say cautiously.

Din is silent for a moment, his face turning towards a blush again. He laughs again a bit nervously, and you see him try to tighten his grasp on you. He relaxes behind you, holding you closer and tighter on the Rancor. You hear him sigh, but not in an angry or sad way, in a way like he's almost relived...

“I’m tamed” Din’s face is now bright red, and you can tell now that you got to him. “You happy now?”

You relax into his touch now. He isn't mad, he isn't upset. He enjoys your company, your comments, your touches... The two of you sit there, enjoying the ride on the Rancor. You sit there in comfortable silence, relaxing into each others touch. You've tamed the Mandalorian. You made him show a side he doesn’t show to anyone else. Could that mean this is a start of something?

Part Two: True Companion (Series 16, Part 2 of 6)

Series Sixteen: Bastien and Rinda’s Date Night Fluff (6 Parts) Part Two: True Companion (Series 16, Part 2 of 6) My masterlist is at the end of my bio. Please check it out or message me if you have questions or would like to be tagged in anything!

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three) Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OC Rinda Parks Word Count: 2,135 Rating: M for Language TRIGGERS: Dealing with the emotions that come as part of the healing process after the death of a spouse. Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh. Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3 for always being my sounding board! Thank you @cora-nova @silviasutton1989 @bobasheebaby @riseandshinelittleblossom-deact @riseandshinelittleblossom for being my thirsty Bastien friends and for still being a part of the journey! Series Summary: This series is pure, no shame, fluff. I’m posting it Thanksgiving weekend and I have the holiday feels. 😊 Bastien is absolutely perfect—no apologies for how unrealistically perfect he is—and plans a date night for Rinda.

Chapter Summary: Rinda is surprised to hear the song “True Companion” by Marc Cohn when she’s on a date with Bastien. It brings up memories, but also gives her the closure with Jameson that she was still hoping to find.

True Companion

The general assumption is that every girl dreams of her wedding day. Rinda never expected a fancy wedding, but she did have a secret dream of getting married in an English garden with climbing, rambling roses everywhere. Like in the book The Secret Garden. Her other dream, which was more pragmatic, was the song she wanted for her first dance with her husband. Ever since she was in high school she loved the song “True Companion” by Marc Cohn, and she imagined what it would be like to slow dance, gazing into her husband’s eyes. Especially the second verse.

So don't you dare and try to walk away I've got my heart set on our wedding day I've got this vision of a girl in white Made my decision that it's you alright When I take your hand I'll watch my heart set sail I'll take my trembling fingers And I'll lift up your veil Then I'll take you home

That’s where her husband would spin her.

And with wild abandon That’s the part where he would capture her in his arms again, and she would fall back into him, laughing, happy, so in love.

Make love to you just like a true companion That’s when he’d give her a deep, loving kiss in front of friends and family that would make her blush and leave her breathless.

You are my true companion.

She had it all worked out in her head. Jameson was her True Companion, and they were supposed to dance to that song at their wedding, but somehow it never happened. They had a shoestring wedding budget. Friends who promised to help with things that evening were getting drunk in a back room causing more work than they were worth. The “will work for food and beer” DJ was supposed to have a partner, his girlfriend, but they were “on a break” so he spent most of the evening flirting with Rinda’s cousin and getting drunk. He forgot several songs that meant something to Rinda, including her first dance with Jameson as man and wife. When she tried to re-coordinate it with the DJ, she didn’t know where Jameson was. Rinda was wading through guests who were giving their congratulations, trying to say goodnight to her as they left, thanking her for such a lovely evening. She found Jameson in the parking lot talking to people, and she remembered being so upset, trying to yank him away from his friends so they could have their dance. But by then the DJ was playing another song while he slobbered sweet promises into his cousin’s ear, her cousin desperately trying to get away, but her own boyfriend was in a corner getting drunk. It was the stereotypical Wisconsin wedding. You had a meal that gave guests a base for a good night of drinking. Then you drank and danced—maybe throw in the Chicken Dance and a few polkas. Nothing fancy. But by the end of the day you were married, so nothing else mattered. Rinda wasn’t expecting anything fancy. And she was married, so there was nothing to complain about. But she was expecting to dance her favorite song with Jameson. Then at the end of the night, she couldn’t find him anywhere. That’s when Rinda realized their entire wedding party, including the designated driver, had already left without them. Rinda had enough. She slipped out of the wedding hall and started walking home without telling anyone. She had her stubborn pride and she could get herself home, even if she was buzzed, barefoot, and sobbing in a wedding dress. A police officer saw her walking and stopped to help her. One of Jameson’s co-workers. She was so embarrassed and she begged him not to tell Jameson. It was just a long night, she didn’t even have fun at her own wedding, and she was starving because somehow, in the confusion of the night, she was yanked from her meal and never got to finish it. She had to stay in the back seat because the computer took up the front passenger-side seat. So the low point of Rinda’s wedding day was riding in the back of a police car, going through the McDonald’s drive through to get a McChicken value meal with a Coke. She needed him to pay because she didn’t have any money. She didn’t even have her house keys or phone. Even if she got home, she would have been stuck waiting on the porch with no way to contact anyone. The officer pulled into a parking spot and let Rinda out of the car, and they sat on the curb in the parking lot. He let her cry into her McChicken as she admitted she knew she was being so immature. She knew she had a good man and they’d have a great marriage. But the day ended so horribly awful. The officer let her ramble, but he also asked her questions about the day. Well, before the dance it had been fun. How was the actual wedding? The ceremony was beautiful. Watching Jameson’s face as I walked down the aisle was more emotional than I could have realized. Were there some friends and family she hadn’t seen in awhile? How was that? Yes, and it was so amazing, seeing so many friends and family show up for our day, supporting us, showing us love. And really, everyone else did have a good time. So everyone was getting drunk? Yes. You know this is Wisconsin, right? Yes. You said you can’t find Jameson. Do you think he just ran off and left you? No. He saw Rinda squirm uncomfortably, knowing Jameson was probably wondering the same thing right now, except he would be right. She did run off and leave him. Then the officer reminded Rinda that the wedding was just one day. It was what happened every day after that, that made the marriage. He drove her back to the wedding hall and Jameson was anxiously looking for her. He saw she left everything behind and he had no way of contacting her. He was frantic with worry. Somehow the officer managed to make it look like he was pulling off a prank with Rinda, pretending to haul her off to jail for bad behavior. He kept his promise and never told Jameson the truth—that he was actually returning Jameson’s runaway bride. The officer even put Rinda in handcuffs, and everyone who was still there laughed because Jameson had his own handcuff key on his key ring to free her. Maybe. If she behaved. Everyone thought it was so funny that a police officer came, and it was a story that was retold throughout the years. And every time it was told, Rinda would share a secret smile with the officer who bought her a McChicken and brought her back to her senses—and her own wedding reception. When Rinda stepped back into the wedding dance hall that evening she saw her aunts and uncles tearing down the decorations and cleaning everything up. Rinda and Jameson wanted to stay and help, but her family shooed them out with cheeky grins and winks. And of course someone would be able to give them a ride home. Now get home and start making babies. Rinda had started weeping. She was humbled by the generosity of her family, and she couldn’t believe she started walking home from her own wedding. What kind of spoiled bitch was she? Some of Rinda’s uncles were shaking Jameson’s hand and they were laughing, reminding him of what they said. Rinda asked what that was about, but Jameson wasn’t able to tell her until years later.

When the years have done irreparable harm I can see us walking slowly arm in arm Just like that couple on the corner do, 'cause Girl I will always be in love with you When I look in your eyes I'll still see that spark Until the shadows fall Until the room grows dark At the end of the night, on their wedding day, Jameson was talking to Rinda’s favorite uncle, drunkenly blubbering about his worries. A few of her uncles quickly took Jameson into one of the back rooms so he wouldn’t be seen. Then he poured his heart out and they drank with him and reassured him. Of course Rinda loved him and they’d have a wonderful life. Yes, he was good enough for her and he’d be an amazing husband. And yes, they would always do what they could for them. Yes, of course they would always be there for Rinda. Then her uncles realized what Jameson was too afraid to say. Yes, they would promise to take care of Rinda and their children, no matter what. And no, don’t even talk like that. They would have a long and happy life together. They would grow old together and play with their grandchildren. Now they needed to get Jameson back out there. Rinda was probably worried about where he was. He didn’t want her to think he just left her to fend for herself, right?

Then when I leave this Earth I'll be with the angels standin' I'll be out there waiting for my true companion Just for my true companion True companion Rinda was thinking about an item to check off her wedding dream list. Jameson was thinking about the number of police officers who were killed in the line of duty that year. Rinda was so worried about not dancing to that song. Jameson was so worried that they’d never have a chance to live a full lifetime together and fulfill the final verse of that song. And that was why Rinda was now superstitious of that song. There was a reason they never danced to it at their wedding. It just wasn’t meant to be because the universe knew Jameson would die less than eleven years later. There was no verse three for them and even though she still loved that song, she was also afraid of it. And now she was hearing that song again, played by street musicians. She was in a foreign country on a beautiful, starry evening, almost two years since Jameson’s death. It was a string of coincidences, but Rinda knew everything happens for a reason and it will be okay, even if it doesn’t feel like it ever will be again. She needed to. That belief was one of the things that got her through that first year and a half after his death. She wasn’t expecting to hear that song. It truly shook her, and she needed time to process those emotions and memories that she had kept tucked away since her wedding night. But now she needed to be done. It was a lifetime of memories with Jameson, albeit short, and she needed to get back to the present where Bastien was patiently waiting for her with that understanding look in his eyes. But there was something else. The thing that had been loose inside of Rinda found its new place. It was Jameson’s memory and she finally knew, with absolute certainty, that it was okay to move on. Jameson was giving her his blessing. And now, that song was just another cliché love song. It was nothing to be afraid of, nothing to regret. Rinda was finally able to look into Bastien’s eyes. “Bastien, I used to love this song. It’s about a man finding his True Companion, and the verses go from a man searching for her and finding her, then marrying her, and then growing old with her. I always thought it was so romantic, and I wanted to dance to it with Jameson at our wedding but it was a crazy night and it never happened. That always bothered me, because I really wanted that part to be perfect. You know, like a best man giving a good speech.” Her eyes had a mischievous spark as she reminded Bastien of how much Katie Rys hated the speech he didn’t give at her and Leo’s wedding. But now she was giving her habitual shrug, trying to physically shake off that memory. “I felt like it wasn’t meant to be, that we never had that final verse of growing old together. But that’s okay. It’s surreal that I’m in Cordonia, with you, and this song is being played right now. But . . . Bastien. I know for sure Jameson is okay with me putting away his picture. With me not being there to visit his grave on his birthday or our anniversary. It’s . . . okay that I’ve moved on, and he’s happy for us.” Rinda nodded to herself a few times, reassuring herself, before finally looking into Bastien’s eyes.

Part Four And It’s Different with Every Shore (Series Eleven, Part 4 of 16)

Series Eleven: It Takes Its Shape from de Shore It Meets (Sixteen Parts) Part Four And It’s Different with Every Shore (Series Eleven, Part 4 of 16)

Masterlist

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three)

Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks Word Count: Rating: M for Language, Dealing with the Grief of a Spouse Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh.

Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3 for always being my sounding board! Thank you @liam-rhys and @silviasutton1989  for still being a part of the journey!

Triggers: There are going to be some dark themes in this series that deal with the consequences of what happens when parents don’t put their children first. I promise I won’t get graphic, and I’ll tag each section accordingly. This will tie in with future events and another aspect of Bastien and Rinda’s personalities—as individuals and as a couple.

Series Summary: It’s the week of October 14th, the sixth week of the school year. Henry and Rinda are staying in Cordonia, which means that Rinda can now begin to move forward, and backwards, with professional and personal aspects of her life.

One inspiration while I wrote this was a quotation from Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God: “Love is lak de sea. It’s uh movin’ thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from de shore it meets, and it’s different with every shore.”

The other was these lyrics from the song “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Misérables: “But the tigers come at night / With their voices soft as thunder / As they tear your hope apart / As they turn your dream to shame.”

Chapter Summary: Bastien visits Rinda and Henry that night, and he has surprises for them--and something surprises him.

And It’s Different with Every Shore “Love is lak de sea. It’s uh movin’ thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from de shore it meets, and it’s different with every shore.” Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

Wednesday Night of Week Six When Henry talked to Bastien Monday night and told him the news that they were staying in Cordonia, Bastien was thrilled. And although Henry was excited to see Bastien again, Rinda reminded Henry that it was a busy week at school with the King and Queen visiting. Let’s all agree that we’re going to get through that first, and then we’ll figure out the rest. So when Bastien messaged Rinda Wednesday night to ask if he could visit, even though it was last minute, Rinda said yes. Absolutely, please yes. Henry and Rinda ran outside to greet Bastien when he pulled up, and Rinda stayed back while Henry ran into Bastien’s arms to hug him. And she melted into him as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek and asking “How’s my Tria?” She wrapped her arms tighter around him. “Perfect, now that you’re here.” Bastien needed Henry’s help bringing in a few things to celebrate that they were staying in Cordonia until summer. He brought dinner, and there were chocolate chip cookies for Henry and spumoni ice cream for Rinda. But they both had to share with him. Then for his Tria he had a bouquet with roses, but not cliché long-stem red roses. They were spray roses, like the old-fashioned climbing roses you see rambling around in a garden. Bastien knew those were her one of her favorites. Daisies were her other favorite. But tonight he wanted roses for his Tria. And although Rinda didn’t know it, Bastien had asked the royal florist to put together something like an English garden that had rambling roses. Something that was the opposite of cliché one dozen long-stem roses. And when he saw Rinda’s face light up with joy when she saw it, when she gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek, and when Rinda carefully examined the bouquet, getting excited as she listed the names of at least six flowers she loved that were in the bouquet, names that Bastien had never even heard of before, he knew he needed to give the florist an extra thank you for creating the perfect floral arrangement for his Tria. Then for Henry he had . . . Bastien handed Henry a wrapped gift, and Henry’s eyes were that bright cobalt blue with excitement. He thanked Mr. Lykel and quickly ripped off the paper, then jumped up and down with excitement. It was the Rick and Morty Clue game. Mr. Lykel already proved he was the Monopoly mastermind, but Clue? With Bastien’s experience interrogating people and solving mysteries as part of the Royal Guard? Henry didn’t stand a chance. Henry hugged Bastien again, and Rinda suggested that he open the game and figure out the instructions while she and Mr. Lykel got dinner ready. And IF there was time after dinner they could play a game, so he could set the board up too. But no cheating!

. . . . .

They went into the kitchen to get dinner ready, and Bastien had a question. Drake mentioned there were some problems at the school. “Tria, are you and Henry okay? Drake wouldn’t give me any details. He was actually mad at himself for saying anything because he knew you were going to talk to me this weekend. He didn’t want to interfere, but I can tell that it’s something serious.” Rinda sighed. “I asked Drake not to say anything until this weekend because we all need to focus on the security for the King and Queen’s visit this Friday. There are some things happening with one family, but Drake and the rest of us have it handled. And yes, Henry is having problems with another kid at school. I know he’ll want to talk about that tonight, please. But everything else? I promise that we’ll talk about it after the visit. I just need all of us to focus on that first, okay? Bastien took her hands in his, his thumbs brushing her knuckles. And then brushing her ring finger, his eyes never leaving hers. “Tria?” She wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. Rinda gave Bastien a shy smile. “Yeah, I’m trying to take my ring off at home, but I still wear it during the day.” She paused, unsure of how to continue, and Bastien gently released her hands and took a small step back to give her some space as she struggled with her thoughts. “Bastien, I still need to wear my wedding ring at work. I’m not ready to deal with people asking me why I’m not wearing it, and I’m just scared. It’s been a security blanket, and I just . . . I’m sorry. Please, I need more time before I can completely take it off . . . or do anything more.” Rinda’s breaths were getting shallow and Bastien stepped closer to her. “Tria, I’m just going to hold your hands to help you breathe. Sweetheart, breathe in. Now breathe out.” He was gently rubbing up and down Rinda’s arm, helping her fight off the panic attack. “Tria, I never want you to feel uncomfortable with me. I promise, it’s okay sweetheart. You can wear your ring as long as you need to.” Rinda slowly raised her head to look at him, and he held her gaze. Those grey eyes that had so much depth to them when it was just the two of them. So much love. “Tria, I care about you and Henry so much. You’re absolutely perfect to me. You’re absolutely perfect for me.” “Tiger? I don’t know how long I’ll need, but you have a say in this now and I want you to always be honest with how you’re feeling about this. But, if I’m taking too long it has to be a conversation. If it comes out in an argument that will break me.” Bastien was still holding Rinda’s hands, and he reached behind himself, moving Rinda’s arms so they were around his waist. She smiled when he did that and she let go of his hands so she could hold him close while his hands moved to caress her face. “Tria, I know that you hate how your parents always yell at each other. And that you and Jameson would never fight in front of Henry. Sweetheart, I promise I won’t yell it during an argument and I promise when we do fight that we won’t do it in front of Henry.” Rinda smiled and squeezed him tightly for a moment. Thank you. “Tiger? Henry has Jameson’s ring. We’re keeping it in a safety deposit box for him back home. But I never knew what to do with mine when I was ready to take it off. But I’m thinking I might give it to Cassie. That feels right to me.”   “I think that’s a beautiful idea, Tria.” Bastien kissed her forehead and leaned his forehead against hers. “Thank you for telling me. And please, I do want you to tell me what’s happening at school so I can help. If it’s something with Henry, I need him to know that I’m there for him too.”

Part Six: Her Tiger (Series Eleven, Part 6 of 16)

Series Eleven: It’s uh Movin’ Thing, but Still and All (Sixteen Parts) Part Six: Her Tiger (Series Eleven, Part 6 of 16)

Masterlist

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three)

Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks Word Count: 1,115 Rating: R for Strong Language, References to Children Working through Grief with Bullying, Hints of Child Abuse or Neglect, Child Protective Services Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh.

TRIGGERS: Reference to possible abuse/neglect of a child and Child Protective Services

Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3​ for always being my sounding board! Thank you @liam-rhys​ and @silviasutton1989 for still being a part of the journey!

Triggers: There are going to be some dark themes in this series that deal with the consequences of what happens when parents don’t put their children first. I promise I won’t get graphic, and I’ll tag each section accordingly. This will tie in with future events and another aspect of Bastien and Rinda’s personalities—as individuals and as a couple.

Series Summary: It’s the week of October 14th, the sixth week of the school year. Henry and Rinda are staying in Cordonia, which means that Rinda can now begin to move forward, and backwards, with professional and personal aspects of her life.

One inspiration while I wrote this was a quotation from Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God: “Love is lak de sea. It’s uh movin’ thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from de shore it meets, and it’s different with every shore.”

The other was these lyrics from the song “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Misérables: “But the tigers come at night / With their voices soft as thunder / As they tear your hope apart / As they turn your dream to shame.”

Chapter Summary: Bastien and Rinda recap their day—and establish some ground rules for sharing ice cream.

Her Tiger

“Tria, the things Henry was showing me that Stephan is doing . . .” “I know, Bastien. It’s bad. We’re all working with Child Protective Services, but it’s a nightmare. Meanwhile we’re documenting everything and praying they’re safe until we see them the next morning. How’s Drake holding up, though? It’s only his second week and he’s great, but it’s still hard for anyone to see it—especially the first time. I feel like he’s been thrown into the deep end, only seeing the ugly before he gets to enjoy any of the fun. I think helping coach football and being part of this week’s dance jam will help, but . . .” “Don’t worry about Drake. I promise, he’s fine. I saw that you—the security team—have a meeting with Liam and Riley next week. Drake told me that you asked him to set that up, and he was happy to do that. It’s going to be fine Tria, but those kids can’t wait until this weekend. Let me talk to Liam and fix things with CPS now.” He saw Rinda was about to protest. “Tria, don’t fight me on this. I promise I have time to mention this to Liam, and it won’t interfere with any preparations for Friday. Tria? I’m going to tickle you to make you look at me.” Rinda laughed and obediently showed Bastien her eyes, and he stared into them, waiting until he saw that they weren’t aquamarine anymore. “Thank you, Tria.” He gently kissed her nose. “You know it’s not fair that my eyes are such a strong tell?” Bastien chuckled. “It’s very fair. If you aren’t going to tell me what you’re thinking, it’s an easy way for me to at least see how you’re feeling.” He grinned. “Besides. You’ve been a very naughty Tria who withheld information from her Tiger, so he had no way of knowing how to help her.” Rinda laughed. He was such a goof when he referred to himself as “her Tiger” or “your Tiger,” but she also loved it. She loved that Bastien was her Tiger, and she was his Tria. And although Bastien couldn’t stay late, they still had time to share spumoni ice cream and talk about their day. Yes, her Tiger would eat right out of the carton with her, but they each had to have their own spoon. Rinda laughed. Of course, silly Tiger! You don’t share spoons, you muppet gobshite. You each take your own spoon and fight each other for the good parts. Just then Bastien scooped out some of the pink section of the spumoni, revealing a large chunk of cherry. “Aha!” Rinda actually muscled Bastien’s hand out of the way as her spoon dove in for the cherry bit. “Tria! You did not just push your Tiger’s hand out of the way so you could grab the good part, did you?” Rinda unabashedly ate the cherry bit. “Yup. All is far in love and war when it comes to ice cream, Tiger.” Bastien suddenly stood up, still holding the carton. “Bastien? Tiger? Wait. Please. I’m sorry. I’ll be a better food sharer. Your Tria is very contrite right now. I promise. Just don’t ask to look at my eyes to prove it.” Bastien went to the kitchen, but he came back with a bowl and put a very small spoonful each of chocolate, pistachio, and cherry ice cream in the bowl. He saw Rinda move in closer, and he slapped her hands away. Then he carefully examined the ice cream and made a production out of picking a pistachio nut out of the bowl and returning it to the container. He finally handed the bowl to Tria. “Here, sweetheart.” Then Bastien twisted away from Rinda and continued eating ice cream out of the container. Rinda was laughing too hard to even finish the ice cream in her bowl, although she did tell Bastien that he was the süßester und düsterster Tiger--sweetest and silliest Tiger. And she loved how he could always make her laugh. . . . . .

When they were done fighting over ice cream, Bastien asked Rinda about the tour of the university and what she thought about everything. And how did their discussion go with implementing some of the safety training in university classes? Bastien smiled when he saw how animated Rinda got. The University was absolutely amazing. So many opportunities and the collaboration that was already taking place. And it was so exciting to be in a college classroom again, and she thought that the initial discussions went well, but she, Collin, and Deirdre knew they really had to work to ensure instructors maintained control for this to work. And most importantly, she felt so horrible that she had to ignore her Tiger throughout the day, but was it okay? Bastien kissed her forehead and cheeks again and again, telling her how much it meant to him when she mentioned Rossini. How he was able to watch her teach, and it was so impressive. How he was busy with security at the duchy now, but everything was going well—although he was still furious that Riley insisted on keeping Gladys on at the duchy. Even though she lost her head position, it was still a security nightmare, especially considering how well Gladys knew the duchy. Ugh. Don’t even get him started. But most importantly, he wanted to tell his Tria again and again how glad he was that she and Henry were staying in Cordonia. But there was one other thing. And it was a big deal, so he didn’t want to mention earlier because he didn’t want to ruin their night. Vivian Trakas invited herself to the teacher appreciation dinner Friday night. Bastien drew back, afraid of how Rinda would react. But Rinda just gave a half-hearted laugh. “I already knew Tiger, but thank you. I purposely made other plans that night so I’d have an excuse not to attend. I know that’s disrespectful to King Liam and Queen Riley, but when the day is over and everyone has exited the school safely, no threats or attacks, I really just want to get away from all of it. And in all honesty, I probably would throat punch Vivian if I saw her in a social setting. Henry was right. She really is a right wagon.”

Wagon? Bastien made a mental note to Urban Dictionary, although he knew it was going to be challenging now that Rinda was starting to throw in some Irish insults. He’d check English and Irish meanings, just in case. There was no way he was going to interrupt to ask her.

Part Five:  But the Tigers Come at Night (Series Eleven, Part 5 of 16)

Series Eleven: It’s uh Movin’ Thing, but Still and All (Sixteen Parts) Part Five:  But the Tigers Come at Night (Series Eleven, Part 5 of 16)

Masterlist

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three)

Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks Word Count: 1,678 Rating: M for Strong Language, Start of a Panic Attack/Anxiety, Children Working through Grief with Screaming and Bullying Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh.

Thank you @asherella-is-a-dork-3​ for always being my sounding board! Thank you @liam-rhys​ and @silviasutton1989 for still being a part of the journey!

Triggers: There are going to be some dark themes in this series that deal with the consequences of what happens when parents don’t put their children first. I promise I won’t get graphic, and I’ll tag each section accordingly. This will tie in with future events and another aspect of Bastien and Rinda’s personalities—as individuals and as a couple.

Series Summary: It’s the week of October 14th, the sixth week of the school year. Henry and Rinda are staying in Cordonia, which means that Rinda can now begin to move forward, and backwards, with professional and personal aspects of her life.

One inspiration while I wrote this was a quotation from Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God: “Love is lak de sea. It’s uh movin’ thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from de shore it meets, and it’s different with every shore.”

The other was these lyrics from the song “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Misérables: “But the tigers come at night / With their voices soft as thunder / As they tear your hope apart / As they turn your dream to shame.”

Chapter Summary: Bastien visits Rinda and Henry that night, and Henry struggles with some anger issues. Bastien helps Henry work through some of it and Rinda is panicked by how much she cares for Bastien.

But the Tigers Come at Night “But the tigers come at night / With their voices soft as thunder / As they tear your hope apart / As they turn your dream to shame.” “I Dreamed a Dream” from Les Misérables

During dinner Rinda reassured Henry that he could be honest with Mr. Lykel, just like he could be honest with her. It was just the three of them, and they all solemnly agreed that what they talked about during dinner stayed there. It was good to vent, and no one else had to know—especially since Henry wanted to talk about another kid, and mom could get in trouble if people at school knew what they said. But Henry also looked at Bastien. “Mom says I have to be nice to Stephan Traskas because he’s going through a lot because of his parents’ divorce. So I know what I’m saying is mean, but right now is it okay if I say mean things without you getting mad?” Bastien solemnly nodded and reassured Henry that sometimes he needed to do that, too. It was hard to be polite and professional all day long, so sometimes when he got home it was nice to talk to someone else and say what he was really thinking. But when Henry started, Bastien had to work extra hard to maintain a neutral reaction. He knew Rinda was okay with Henry using swear words when it was just the two of them, and he knew Henry kept his emotions bottled up until he exploded, just like Rinda. Henry was still seeing a therapist to help him with dad’s death and help him develop strategies to deal with his anger issues. But Bastien had no clue how angry Henry could truly get, or how creative he could be when he strung together profanities that he most likely didn’t even understand—even though most of them were incredibly brilliant just because they were so idiotic and nonsensical. And now that Rinda was hanging out with Collin again, Rinda was back in the habit of using Irish profanities—words that Henry quickly assimilated. So Bastien was unsure of how to react when Henry informed him that Stephan Trakas was “a muppet gobshite who needed to just fuck himself into a closet with a shit-faced wombat so Henry could lock the door on that gobdaw eejit gowl and throw away the key.” He’d throw that key so far “that even his wagon of a mom wouldn’t be able to find it.” (Rinda clapped her hand over her mouth at that one, but Bastien couldn’t tell if it was from pure horror or laughter.)

Where the fuck does Henry even come up with this? Rick and Morty is tame compared to this shit spewing out of his mouth!   Bastien followed Rinda’s lead, just letting him shout. Sometimes just screaming random words. And when Henry would stop for validation, Rinda would give it and encourage him to keep going. Bastien knew Rinda was good about helping Henry see when he was in the wrong, or when he needed to take responsibility for his actions, or when he needed to be nice to someone even when he didn’t want to. So Bastien assumed Rinda would start that part of the conversation after the tirade. And she did.   “So Bug, anything else?” “Stephan’s a dick.” “Okay. Fair enough. Anything else?” Silence. “Okay, you did some great shouting and you had some pretty crazy swear words going on there. Remember, we can’t say that shit in public, okay?” Henry nodded. “But now that you’re feeling a little better, I need you to please tell me and Bastien again what Stephan did.” Bastien gave Rinda a grateful smile. He had no clue what Stephan even did to piss off Henry. He had a feeling Rinda wasn’t exactly sure either, although it sounded like Stephan was acting out. Again. Stephan was a bully to Alex Dimitrious at the beginning of the school year, but Alex really started coming into his own after Bastien let Alex help him with a perimeter sweep of the school. Although Rinda didn’t know it, Bastien also took extra time to talk with Alex and show him basic moves to defend himself—but only for self defense. Never to attack anyone. As Alex gained more confidence he became friends with more people, including Henry and Phillip. They often played together after school while they waited for Mrs. Dimitrious to pick up Alex and his older sister, and for Rinda to finish up and take Henry and Phillip home on the nights she didn’t stay late. Stephan had been leaving Alex alone, but now he was being a bully again. He was being mean to his sisters, and to other people at school. And when Henry, Phillip, and Alex told him to stop, he didn’t. He kept being a dick, and they didn’t know how to make him stop. They tried walking away. They got an adult. But nothing made a difference. It was fucking stupid and useless. Henry gave his mom a pissed-off glare. “Mom, I know you said the adults have it covered and you can’t talk about it, but its been a week and nothing changed.” Bastien stepped in before Rinda had a chance to defend herself. “Henry, if your mom says she has it covered, she does. And if she says she can’t talk about it, she can’t. You know that. So tell me more about what Stephan is doing and what you’ve been doing to stand up to him. Let’s figure out what you, Phillip, and Alex can do without getting into trouble, okay?” Bastien listened carefully while Henry explained some of the things Stephan was doing. “Rinda, can I take Henry outside and show him a few things?” Rinda nodded. “Of course. Tell you what. I’ll clean up and take care of dishes. Sound good?” As Rinda did dishes she occasionally looked out the window to watch Henry and Bastien. Henry already knew some pressure points and basic self defense moves from Jameson, but Rinda could see that Henry was explaining the specific things Stephan was doing, and Bastien was walking Henry through the specific moves Henry could use to defend himself or other people. Rinda caught herself flicking her bare ring finger with her left thumb. She wasn’t completely sure if it was because she was flooded with a memory of Jameson and Henry together, or if she was flooded with emotion to see Bastien with Henry. She took a deep breath to steady herself before turning back to the dishes. Bastien said he never wanted her to feel pressured, so no use going into a panic attack about it. Right? Right? God, Jameson. I’m so sorry. I’ve been moving too fast, haven’t I? I should have just put my ring on when Bastien said he was coming over. What the fuck was I even thinking?

“I Dreamed a Dream.” But the tigers come at night. With their voices soft as thunder . . . NO. Not Bastien. Not her Tiger. He was patient, and he was good. To her and to Henry.

Rinda looked at the chocolate chip cookies sitting on the counter. And she thought about the spumoni ice cream in the freezer—he remembered it was her favorite. And when she went into the living room she saw the Clue game Henry set up, and the beautiful vase of flowers that she was going to put in her bedroom, next to her bed, when she went to sleep later. Those flowers were perfect—the kind of flowers you’d find in an English garden.

Fuck.

Every single thing Bastien brought that night was so perfect. It was all of their favorite things. And yet, it was the first time he ever bought Henry an actual present, and Rinda had so much respect for that. Bastien knew better than to try to buy Henry’s affection or spoil him. Bastien knew that he and Henry could only get to know each other better if they spent time together. And they did that. Yes, Bastien did make sure that Henry’s trip to Cordonia was safe—and memorable—with an escort by some of the Royal Guards. But he did it to keep Henry safe and keep her from worrying so much. Yes, there were times he brought pizza or other “restaurant food” for dinner when it was a crazy night and Rinda didn’t have time to cook. But she would have ordered pizza on a night like that anyways, right? And he brought chocolate chip cookies for Henry the night he babysat, but according to Henry, that was just a Mr. Lykel thing. He did that for Drake and Savannah too. And Bastien introduced Henry to Drake, and let them stay at the palace, and took them fishing, and . . .

Rinda sat down and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as she massaged the inside of her left hand with her right thumb. This was NOT something to get into a panic attack about. A good man who cared about her and her son, who was patient.

And when Bastien and Henry finally came inside, they saw Rinda calmly sitting on the couch reading a book. “So guys, how did it go?”

. . . . .

It was too late to play Clue, but Bastien said that just meant they’d have to play the next time they came over. Henry asked if they could keep the game set up, and Rinda said probably not because the Manikas toddlers would knock it over that weekend. But Henry could set it back up next week if he wanted to, and then it would be ready to go for the next time. And Bastien got an extra long hug from Henry when it was time for bed. “Mr. Lykel?”

“Yes, Henry?”

“Thank you for everything tonight and for helping me with Stephan stuff. I really like it when we spend time together. And I’m glad we’re staying in Cordonia. You are too, right?”

“Yes, Henry. I’m very glad you and your mom are staying in Cordonia. And I love spending time with you, too.” Then Bastien kissed Henry’s forehead and tousled his hair before moving aside so Rinda could “Bis Morgen” her Doodle Bug.

“J’envoie Valser” (1 of 10)

Book: The Royal Romance (after book three) Pairing: You’ll Easily Figure It Out x OC Rinda Parks Word Count: 1,233

Rating: M for Slight Naughty Language (Future Chapters Will Be Worse—I Love the F-Bomb)

Triggers: None Here, BUT FUTURE CHAPTERS WILL BE MARKED FOR TRIGGERS

Author’s Note: Thank you to all the amazing artists whose work got me through a *really* long semester and TRR break. This is my little thank you to all of you. Chapters are named after songs I was listening to at the time because I’m real original like that. This one is “J’envoie Valser” by Zazie. Disclaimer: please pretend the song is *a lot* older than it really is.

*Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this.

Summary: We’re going to jump in toward the end and then go back to the beginning to see what leads up to this. I suck at establishing characters and whatnot, so my only ace in the hole with this one is for readers to (very quickly) figure out which TRR character I’m using. 

“J’envoie Valser”

She heard the soft strains of music coming from behind his closed office door and paused, trying to catch the melody. A sudden wave of nostalgia broke over her as she remembered her grandmother singing it to her grandfather. How her grandma’s hand lovingly stroked his cheek as she gazed into his eyes.  Rinda softly knocked on the door and the music stopped, replaced with some scuffling noises. She waited quietly, unsure if she should quickly slip away before he acknowledged her presence. Then she heard his deep voice: “Come in.” Rinda shook her head. Why did she even stop? He must be buried in work if he’s staying this late, and she was just going to make it worse. 

Taking a deep breath, she walked in and saw him calmly sitting behind his desk, grey eyes questioning her. “Mrs. Parks, you’re still here? It’s rather late.”

She grinned at the formality. It was sometimes hard for staff to switch back to using their first names after a long day at work. “I could say the same of you.” They both gave a small smile at her quip. Rinda hesitated before asking if she could sit down and talk with him for a few minutes. He nodded, motioning to the chair next to her, while he stayed seated behind his desk. “Do you know Alexander Dimitriou?,” she asked. “The young boy who was waiting for his mother this afternoon?” “Yes. His mom needs to work extra hours at her job for awhile, and I think it will be a challenge for her to pick up Alex right after school. I told her that I . . . Well, I actually asked her if Alex could stay after school with me this week because I need help organizing some books in the library.” He gave her a soft smile, knowing that she was trying to help Alex’s mother and make Alex feel better about being left at school for so long. “Thank you for letting me know. Was there anything else?” Rinda sighed. “I think a lot of the kids are still afraid of you. Well, not YOU, but that there is a security officer in the school.” She saw his eyes darken. Shit. Was he upset that she made it sound like he was a rent-a-cop or some jackoff mall security that hassled kids? Or was he upset that his presence, meant to make the children feel safe, actually had the opposite effect? Rinda began to back pedal. “I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t do justice to what you actually do to keep the kids safe and what you risk . . .” She stopped, took another deep breath, and tried again. “Anyway, I was thinking the children could take turns doing a ‘perimeter sweep’ with you after school once in awhile.” He chuckled. “And you think Alex might be a good candidate to help me next week?” Rinda’s face lit up as she flashed a sly grin. “Well, now that you mention it . . .” “Okay, let me figure out a few things and I’ll let you know on Monday. Does that work?” “That’s perfect! If you can pull this off I know it will mean a lot to Alex and his mom. I think it will impress the other kids when they see Alex helping you protect the school, and it will help everyone get used having you as their security superhero who looks out for them.” He looked down, smiling to himself, when he heard her stand up and clear her throat. “Thank you—I really appreciate your help with this.” He stood up and started to walk around his desk to see her out when suddenly Rinda turned around, forcing him to stop short. “I was wondering . . .” “Yes?” “That song that you were listening to . . .” His face flushed. He didn’t realize he was playing it so loudly, but she continued. “What are the words? I mean, in English. What is it about?” He stared awkwardly and Rinda hastily began to apologize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. It’s just that I haven’t heard that song in years. My grandma used to sing it to my grandpa in French, and I never understood what she was singing. My grandpa died when I was very young, and I had forgotten those memories until I heard you playing it.” He smiled, suddenly bashful. “’J'envoie Valser’ A woman is saying that jewelry is just rocks, just stones, and it their love and him holding her all night that is the true treasure.” A small sigh escaped Rinda’s lips. “That’s . . . beautiful.” He stopped for a moment, unsure of whether he should continue or not. Rinda saw his uncertainty, so she slowly stepped back and sat back down in the chair. She crossed her hands and lowered her eyes, trying to give him the space he needed. He stayed standing and carefully measured each word as he spoke. “It reminds me of someone I admired and cared for very deeply. She loved this song and used to sing it to her husband.” He stopped speaking and walked back around his desk, but he didn’t sit down. Rinda tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow, not daring to look him in the eyes. She knew he stepped behind his desk because he felt vulnerable and she didn’t want to invade his privacy any further. She waited a few moments, unsure if he would sit back down in his chair. If he did, that would be her cue to leave. Until then, she wasn’t sure if she should stay or quietly let herself out. He leaned against the window, forehead pressed against the glass as he stared outside. “She loved to read.” Rinda looked up, surprised to hear him speak again. “She would take her son to the library every week. He absolutely adored her. They would pick out books together, and then they would sit on the library steps and she would read him a book before they went home.” Still looking outside, his back to her, he continued. “I saw you outside after school today, sitting on the steps and reading with Alex.” Rinda leaned forward in her chair, her eyes questioning, locking with his when he turned to look at her. “Seeing you reading to Alex, knowing that he was worried because his mom wasn’t there yet and you were trying to comfort him . . . it reminded me of her.” He sunk into his chair and leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him on the desk, still looking at Rinda. She reached over and rested her hands on his. “I think she would be happy to know that you are helping Alex, and all these children, by keeping them safe.” He looked down as she squeezed his hands gently, the back of her wedding band grazing his fingers as she stood up to leave. When Rinda got to the door she turned around and called his name, forcing him to look back up at her. “Mr. Lykel? Bastien. I know you weren’t planning on staying for so long, but I’m glad you’re the one who is here to protect us.” Rinda gave one last smile before slipping into the hallway, gently closing the door behind her.

“Landslide” (4 of 10)

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three)

Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks

Word Count: 1,673

Rating: M for References to School Shootings, Panic Attacks, and Language

Triggers: References to School Shootings, Violent Deaths, ALICE Training and School Lockdown Drills, Panic Attacks

Author’s Note: Thank you to all the amazing artists whose work got me through a *really* long semester and TRR break. This is my little thank you to all of you. This series is partly to deal with my terror of what could happen to my family because of our careers and the never-ending school violence in the United States. Chapters are named after songs I was listening to at the time because I’m real original like that. This one is “Landslide,” sung by Stevie Nicks. 

*Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this.

Summary: Everyone deals with the aftermath of Rinda’s panic attack and her ugly crying. Bastien takes off some clothes, but it’s just a blue ball for the readers. Sorry! Bastien finally gets to read Rinda’s file.

*The “Keep Reading” link should be here!

After Rinda’s outburst and the violence of the video, the teachers stared awkwardly, unsure of how to help. Bastien turned from Rinda and barked at Mr. Kakos to dismiss everyone. Kakos stayed frozen and eventually everyone silently filed out of the gym, leaving Rinda sobbing on the ground while Laura and Bastien still held her. Eventually Rinda’s sobs were replaced by hiccups, and Bastien whispered that he would get her some water and a towel. He returned and handed Rinda the water, but she mumbled that she needed to wipe her face first. She kept her face down while she wiped her nose with the towel. “I’m sorry” she gasped between loud, racking hiccups. Bastien unscrewed the cap and handed Rinda the water bottle again. She took a few sips between hiccups and they slowed down. Then she took a larger drink and took a few deep breaths.

“Thank you . . . I’m so sorry . . . I’m an ugly crier and I’ve got booger bubbles coming out of my nose. Seriously, I’m so gross right now.”

Laura took the towel from Rinda’s hands, folded it over to a clean side, and slowly began to wipe her face. “It’s not so bad,” she lied.

Rinda gave a shaky laugh and gave her friend a hug. She looked up at Bastien, about to thank him, when she gasped in shock. “Mr. Lykel . . . I’m so sorry! Your suit . . . please. I’ll get it dry cleaned. We can find something else for you to wear . . .”

“Mrs. Parks, it’s fine. I have another set of clothes in my office. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you two alone while I change.” He gave Rinda’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and turned away.

“Oh God, Laura! I snarfed all over him. Did you see how soaked his suit was? The poor guy is a walking hazmat from my snot.”

Laura laughed. She shared Rinda’s need to use humor to lighten difficult situations. “Well, I did have fantasies about getting his shirt off. You were quite the wingman today.”

. . . . .

Bastien walked back to his temporary office and locked the door. One by one he took off the layers of his clothes, a methodic ritual that normally helped him transition from his professional to personal life. First, he removed his suitcoat. Normally he would put it on a hanger, even if it needed to be dry cleaned. Today, however, he folded it neatly and placed it in a plastic bag. Next he removed his side arm and placed it on the desk, within reach until he was changed and would wear it again. Slowly, meticulously, he removed his vest, then unclasped his tie pin and set that on the desk. He loosened his tie, completely unknotting it and pulling on one side of the fabric as it slid through his shirt collar. Bastien moved on to his shirt, slowly unworking each button as he thought about the day’s events.

When he was finished he threw everything else into the plastic bag that he would simply hand to his dry cleaner. Rinda really did mess up his clothes, but that was the furthest thing from his mind.

Once Bastien was changed and his sidearm reholstered, he sat down and opened Rinda’s file. Fuck. He still couldn’t believe he missed this information on her husband or that he didn’t properly put away the thumb drive and file when Kakos entered the room. He also wondered why Kakos somehow thought the training video was on the thumb drive, separate from all of the other training materials. Unless he saw the note and purposely did it? Bastien knew he was petty, but could he be that cruel?

It was a perfect storm of mismanagement, and Bastien knew it was entirely his own fault for not handling things himself. He felt himself slipping, ever since the terrorists were apprehended and he wasn’t running on adrenaline and urgency anymore. Now that he actually had time to stop for a moment and think about his situation, to be honest about his injury . . . No. Bastien pushed that thought back. Again.

Normally Bastien was all business as he read a person’s file. Normally, he read the file before he met the person. But after spending the past few days with Rinda and holding her this afternoon while she cried, Bastien knew he couldn’t be impartial. The basics—Rinda grew up in Wisconsin, in the United States, and went to college in a city called Milwaukee. She had an undergraduate degree in secondary education, English, and history. She taught high school before going on to grad school, and the certification to teach elementary-aged children came later in life. She was 42 and had almost 20 years of teaching experience at the elementary, high school, and university levels. Only one year of high school teaching, though. Bastien grinned. He could imagine why a teacher wouldn’t last long teaching high school students, but he wondered why she chose to teach elementary school children later in life.

He moved from her professional information to start reading her personal data.

Then Bastien caught his breath and set the file down. He leaned his head into his hands and took deep breaths, trying to steady himself.

Rinda and Jameson had a ten-year-old son named Henry. Henry would have been eight or nine when his father died, even younger than Drake was when his father Jackson died.

. . . . .

Bastien leaned back in his chair, memories of Jackson’s death pounding over him. Jackson Walker was Bastien’s mentor, and since Bastien didn’t have any family nearby when he joined the Royal Guard, Jackson often invited him to dinner with his family.

Bastien became close with the family, often babysitting the two children—Drake and Savannah—when their parents had to work late or needed a date night. When Jackson died Bastien did his best to be there for Drake and Savannah, but it was a difficult situation for everyone involved.

Suddenly Bastien stood up and grabbed his suitcoat. He need to get the fuck out of there and find somewhere to get a drink. He locked the office door and walked down the hallway but stopped when he heard someone playing the piano in the music room. 

. . . . .

Rinda was sitting alone, softy singing.

Well, I've been afraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I'm getting older, too . . .

Bastien stood outside the door listening. Rinda’s voice was raw with emotion and the lyrics shook him.

After she finished Rinda sat quietly for a moment, her back still to Bastien. He was about to turn away when Rinda quietly said “Did you get a chance to change, Mr. Lykel?”

Bastien stood still as Rinda turned around with a shy smile. “My secret Spidey sense. And I have eyes in the back of my head, too. It’s a teacher thing.”

Bastien walked into the room before pausing uncertainly. Rinda sensed his discomfort. “Did you need to speak to me about anything with the training? I’ve pulled myself together, so I’m okay to go through things right now, if you’d like. Or tomorrow when it’s convenient. I know you’ve got a lot to do.”

“It can wait until tomorrow. I just heard the music and wanted to see who was still here. I thought you’d be with Ms. Halkais, so I was surprised to see you here by yourself.”

Rinda nodded. “Laura did offer to let me stay with her. She’s amazing. I just needed some time by myself and I promised to message her if I changed my mind.”

Bastien nodded. “Are you going to be okay? I don’t want to leave you like this.”

Rinda gave a deep sigh. “Are we talking about my reaction to the video, or the fact that life with Mr. Kakos will be unbearable once you leave?” Bastien looked down at Rinda, staring intently into her eyes.

When Bastien didn’t respond Rinda broke eye contact, shrugging her shoulders before continuing. “Actually, part of the reason I was here by myself was because I was thinking about whether I’d stay or not.” Bastien sat down in a chair next to her, Rinda still seated on the piano bench.  “Don’t get me wrong, I plan on fulfilling my duties until a replacement is found. But after my reaction this afternoon it’s pretty obvious I’m a weak link, and Kakos and I don’t work very well together.” Bastien nodded his head in affirmation. “This school safety initiative is huge, Mr. Lykel. It’s bigger than the bullshit between me and Kakos, and I will gladly step down if that’s what’s necessary. It’s better if I resign now, before things really get underway with school. Besides, I’m not even close to finishing unpacking, and my son isn’t scheduled to arrive until next week so it’s not like I’d be uprooting him again so quickly. I can still help from the U.S. if necessary, if anyone even wants my input anymore. But yeah. That’s what I’ve been thinking.”

“Mrs. Parks . . .” Bastien stopped for a moment before continuing, the words suddenly spilling out of his mouth before he even had a chance to think about what he was going to say. “It’s been a hell of a day and I was going to get a drink. Want to join me?”

Rinda gave a weak grin. “That would be amazing, but only if you’ll let me buy. I really do owe you one because of your suit. By the way, just how disgusting were your clothes? You can be honest.”

Bastien’s face revealed no emotion as he stood up, ignoring her question.

“Ouch. That’s pretty bad, Mr. Lykel.”