littlemissbumblebee

[littlemissbumblebee]

Apologies for the delay but

OC VIBE GAME: Phoebe "Bee" Silver; the healer, the dreamer, the lover, with a heart full of kindness and a warm fire in her soul. A soft, gentle light in a very dark place.

Rules: post your OC and then 4 (or more) random pictures with no explanation to convey your characters vibe.

Tagged by @reesevernerlovebot, @renru and @honeylemonbutte

[littlemissbumblebee]

sometimes u just have to catch feelings for your best friend and hide it for years... it builds character

[littlemissbumblebee]

Lie down, eyes closed. There are no straps in this torture chair, the bindings are all made of fear.

You told them you're disabled. They didn't listen. "We'll just numb you up, and do the procedure"

You're too scared to argue.

Bright lights. Open wide. A few slight pinches, then they begin to pull.

Pull. Twist. The tool slips, "Sorry, don't move." You'll hear that a lot.

Pulling isn't enough. They need to cut.

How deep are they cutting? You don't know, if you open your eyes, you'll see their faces, covered in masks and staring at you as the overhead light burns your retinas.

"We need to cut the bone"

It's not even said to you. Not explained, not asked. They can't have cut down to bone, can they? Wouldn't you have known? You must have misheard.

The scream of the drill proves otherwise. It's impossible to mishear the sound of spinning machinery carving into your own skull. But you don't move, you can't. Clutch your plushie tighter, keep your tears silent. You wouldn't want them *mad* at you. Who know what they'd do then? Don't you *need* this?

The faint smell and taste of milk. A new fun fact you sorely wish you'd never learned. Don't breathe through your mouth, you'll choke on your own bone.

*Creeeak.... CRACK! CRUNCH!*

You flinch, and the creature chewing through your skull with metal jaws reprimands you. "Don't move," it says, "stay still." And you do as you're told. You lay still, paralysed with terror as you feel your own skull crunching and cracking and straining beneath the tools.

Then they pull again. Don't move. Keep your head still as you feel your jaw straining against the strength of the thing that's spent the last 2 hours mangling the inside of your mouth.

"Almost there, you're doing well"

You've heard those words at least once every 10 minutes since this started. You're starting to wonder if there even *is* an end to this, or if you died on your way in and ended up in a hell loop.

"I think we might have punctured. Blow your nose."

Punctured what? You try to do as you're told but you barely have any breath at all. Still, it satisfies the creature. You hear steps walking away.

You dare a glance, a peek, and instantly regret it. An inexperienced student with shaky hands thread's a mattress needle with gut thread. This is who the thing that destroyed your bones entrusts with covering up its handiwork.

You take a shaky breath in, and find air flowing from a new hole in your jaw that was never there before. You still can't speak, can't move. You lay still for an hour as the shaky handed student constantly snaps the thread and pokes parts of your mouth she shouldn't.

...then finally it's over. You're alone. The creature says its time to leave. Pain relief? That's only for people that matter. Don't forget to say thank you.

You gasp awake. Your pillow is wet with tears, the faint taste and smell of milk is in the air. You check the time. It's only been an hour and a half since you last woke up. This is going to be a long night.

Lie down, eyes closed....

[littlemissbumblebee]

Dancing around my room

Eyes bright, heart full

I haven't smiled this much in years

Happy giggles, gentle sighs

Music in my veins

Sweet notes, tender feelings

Maybe I'm a princess worth sweeping off her feet after all....

[littlemissbumblebee]

Magikarp, use Splash!

[littlemissbumblebee]

Aaaaand times up!!

So! Which one was the lie?

I was surprised to see not *one* person got it right!!! The correct answer (which I voted for early so I could watch the poll results) was number 3!

Phoebe doesn't wish on stars. She certainly does believe in true love, but she doesn't believe in wishing on stars, birthday candles, dandelion fluff or butterflies! The only kind of 'wishing' she does is closer to... hoping, or internally wishing things were different. A passive feeling, not a deliberate action.

Odd right? The fairytale girl doesn't believe in wishing? What gives?

Well, she *used* to wish on stars and the like when she was a kid, before she left Fernweh, but once she moved and got put into he foster System, she learned very quickly that wishing doesn't work. That whole first year she wished for a home. She wished her grandfather would love her again. She wished she could have her old life back. She wished for a *lot* of things, and none of them happened. What *did* happen, is Becca found her. And together they managed through highschool, university and beyond. Phoebe believes in a lot of things; true love, soulmates, redemption, hope, unconditional love, the power of friendship and kindness... but wishing is just... not something she can bring herself to do anymore. If you want your life to be better, the way to do it is by forming close bonds and helping people, not closing your eyes and whispering a prayer to the universe.

I hope you all enjoyed guessing though!! I intentionally made this one difficult, given how well most of my mutuals know Phoebe :3

@alexeizzo @renru @beatrizamante @honeylemonbutte

[littlemissbumblebee]

@renru @honeylemonbutte @alexeizzo @beatrizamante

RULES: post a 24-hour poll containing two truths and one lie about your oc. have your followers try to guess which is the lie. tagged by @sunshineandviolets (thank you! I spent too much time thinking of what truths/lie I should write)

tagging: @renru (do you want to do this for soh zarina? 👀, @alexeizzo and anyone else who wants to do this

@littlemissbumblebee

[littlemissbumblebee]

I have made

*so many picrews* with this.

Thank you to Ren for giving me the means to make picrews of Phoebe and Becca having the *cutest* heckin moment.

(Also I may or may not have a whole backlog of a *BUNCH* of other MCs making Phoebe blush but that's neither here nor there...)

Big shame we cannot do true platinum blonde hair & the ivy leagues style in this picrew, but we've got some ReeZ content nonetheless. Maybe Zarina messed with his hair behind the scenes. <3

[littlemissbumblebee]

THE FERNWEH SAGA by @lacunafiction.

BEHIND THE MASK:  The serpentine fangs get sharpened under moon's glow. Read people like you read books, become each mirror reflection required to regain control. Become whoever you need to be for abandonment showed no one cared about [you]... or did they? Did you lose yourself? Did you lose against this world? After all, [they] did not forget. 

Outside of Fernweh, there is a larger world. A world where countless eyes are on you, especially when you perform on a stage. Despite bearing the name of a 'falcon', Zarina Hawke has been compared to a snake more often than not, a serpent under the full moon. (Is this why the Ouroboros smiles at you, child? Cruel, oh such a cruel lunatic you are.)

A child of bright amber gaze and sunflower smile has been drowned in the cruelty and cynicism of the world outside, abandonment stripped her off childhood innocence and loneliness gave birth to survivalism.

Weakness cannot be shown. Vulnerability will ruin you. Mistakes are not permitted.  

Her uncle and aunt remind her of her place, her cousin screams in envy. The world is not kind to those who are not successful. Abandon your kindness, conceal your warmth and freeze it; she'd only embrace those who matter. 

She has to become stronger. She has to obtain power and influence no matter what. She won't be abandoned and tossed away, not anymore.

So no can hurt her, so she can protect what's important to her. 

A child's innocence is broken by insults, a child's hope is tarnished by undelivered letters, a child's dream is crushed under expectations and need to become better, stronger, and smarter.

She will become the serpent, the wise and the cruel to all those who dare to control her. Her mother called her a genius, didn't she? So she'll use everything she has to climb the stairs of fame and power to reign supreme; she'll ruin her past self to build her ego anew. Let her aunt and uncle owe her, let her cousin choke on his insults, and... she'll do anything so those who matter won't be taken away from her. 

[littlemissbumblebee]

In The Morning, I Await Your Return.

Name: In The Morning, I Await Your Return. (AO3 Link) Fandom: The Fernweh Saga (created by lovely @lacunafiction) Characters: Reese Verner, Zarina Hawke (The Returning Visitor) Dynamic: Lovers. Synopsis: A comfortable, peaceful morning at the Verner mansion... Certainly, it's a new one. How can you call Verner mansion comfortable and peaceful? When there is someone who eagerly awaits your return.

There is something about lying on silk sheets in the Verner mansion. The riches and fame that brought authority with power remind Zarina of her own life back in the city outside of Fernweh. Perhaps, right now, it’s a different type of appreciation that doesn’t include the aesthetics of the room and has everything to do with the owner of the said room. 

Not bothering much to cover herself with the bedsheet, she asks, "Are you sure you want me to stay here instead of going with you?" 

She watches the heir dress up in front of a mirror, wearing her baby blue nightgown, a short dress with a skirt that hikes up her thighs when she moves a bit, but all is hidden under the bedsheet. The silverette lies on her side, propping herself up on her elbow, with her hand supporting her head. Her amber gaze watches, studies, memorizes.

Hawke cannot help but admire what is happening in front of her. Eyes narrowing in appreciation, taking in the sight with a smitten smile while thinking of everything that happened earlier this morning. Verner knows how to dress to impress, even if she’s used to his suits. It doesn’t mean she is ever tired of seeing them. Such a sharp look always causes her to smile in appreciation, allured by the looks Reese serves without trying too hard. He confidently embraces any outfit, and she finds his self-assurance both attractive and appealing. 

It’s hard for her to take her eyes off him, as adults all the more. 

While she asks the inquiry out loud, Reese checks himself out in the mirror and also glances at her reflection. He always looks at his once childhood rival like she’s art, appreciative and softening when the note of care comes out from her. (She cares, he knows; she cares when others may not.) Light blue eyes don’t change their familiar calculative and thoughtful shine, as he must be thinking about the plans for this morning. 

“I am certain,” he replies smoothly, fixing his tie before turning to face her. Hawke has to hide away the way she’s been admiring his preparations for today. The sleek style continues to allure her, wanting to mess the pristine look but knowing better than to do it. He has work to do and she won’t be the one to mess it up; its obvious punctuality is essential for him, especially today. “You should remain here for as long as you want. If I do not return at the promised time, you are free to do everything you wish to.” 

It was obvious he didn’t want to leave the bed with her still present. Yesterday’s time spent together begged for a slow morning, but being a Verner doesn’t come with much freedom in a busy schedule. Thankfully, today’s meeting was only in the morning and Reese found himself hating the idea of dragging his beloved out after a busy week. 

Zarina continues to study him, amber eyes taking in each and every bit of him. The ivy league hairstyle, the black suit, the cufflinks she gifted him on their last date, and the way he is looking at her. There is always an emotion in those eyes whenever he does look at her ranging from softened tenderness to swirling passion. 

Right now, the silverette is more than happy to notice his amused smirk being on full display. At that, she raises an eyebrow, mirroring the amusement in his smile with her own. Is there something wrong, she asks silently with a tilt of her head. 

“Hawke.”

“Yes, Verner?” 

The question and response are immediate. His tone is laced with prideful indulgence when he watches her, and she wants nothing more than to drag him back in bed, exchange another flurry of kisses and heated touches. Yesterday was cut short and she behaved well when they were taking a shower together, too. She should be praised for her control! Both of them, really. 

“If you continue to give me such a passionate look, I am afraid I will be late to the meeting.”

“It would be your fault, wouldn't it? You have to go,” with her free hand, Zarina pats the empty spot next to her, spreading her fingers to show how much is missing. “And know that your lover is here, all alone, waiting for you to come back and give her attention. I'm helping you do your job faster. You are quite welcome, love.” 

The smugness only multiplies at her dramatic delivery. A subtle whine added for a stronger effect of how he can expect her to wait in his bed, in his room, in his mansion. Mrs. Verner isn’t around either, so why does it matter? It’s not like she’ll steal anything, even if Lois Verner may warn her against it. The only thing she’s stealing from this household is not a ‘thing’ but a ‘someone’ and that someone is obviously fighting his own patience and her charms. 

A proud Verner won’t be defeated so easily and a proud Hawke knows it well, letting him have it for the day. With a sigh, she plops down with much elegance solely because she glanced at the clock. 

“Go on, you’re going to be late,” she shoos him with a wave of her hand, eliciting another soft laugh from the heir. Without wasting more time, he approaches their shared bed and looks at Zarina with a softened adoration that only she is capable of receiving. It makes her melt right away, a smile turning gentle at the showcase of such warmth. “What is it, Reese?”

“No kiss for good luck, Hawke?” He inquires, cheekily. There is playfulness dancing in his expression now, causing the silverette to fake a roll of her eyes before begrudgingly lifting herself up to meet him halfway to grant her a soft kiss. “Another one?” He whispers against her lips and she graciously offers another. 

It always makes her heart skip a beat with how he always seems to chase her lips when they separate. She can feel the mattress dip where he uses his hand to support himself as he bent down to kiss her a third time. 

It’s never enough. 

“You’re going to be late,” she warns him. “And you’re testing my patience.” 

“I am aware you have plenty of the latter at your disposal.”

Now, she huffs, lightly pushing him away and flopping down on the bed and hugging his pillow instead of her own. 

“See you soon, Reese.”

“Do not miss me too much, Hawke.” 

Zarina only scoffs dramatically, but sends him a smile and an air kiss before watching him leave. Reese spares her one last glance when he stands in front of the door before leaving. The lingering gaze warms her cold, icy heart so easily. Mrs. Dorran was correct in calling him passion incarnate, fire heart ablaze. It’s why they work so well with each other, don’t they? They balance each other out. 

Hawke waits for a bit when the door closes before sighing into the pillow, smile dropping and the silence embracing her presence. The lack of Verner’s presence by her side brings up the melancholy and the apathy all over again, loneliness seeping into her bones. It feels pathetic to miss him when he just left, but Zarina finds close bonds to be especially important after losing so much (the way out, the fire, the tragedy within a forest). As lips pressed together, the silverette hugs the pillow closer to herself, nuzzling into it and closing her eyes while thinking. It still smells like his shampoo. This is ridiculous; Verner just left. He just left. It hasn’t been more than ten minutes, if not five. 

A sharp exhale follows as she rolls on the bed, not letting go of the pillow, to lay on the other side. The room remains pleasantly cool for her. It felt nice after yesterday’s exchange, embraces exchanged and marks left here and there. She inquired Reese if his back hurt, tracing the angry red marks with care and willing to assist with recovery by applying any ointment that might fasten the recovery. The cocky blonde would, on the contrary, proudly and smugly ask if he were truly that hard on her yesterday. 

Obviously… He’s been hit with a pillow twice this morning. 

“He’s too good to me,” Zarina mumbles, knowing full well her ego still soars every time he calls her, kisses her, holds her, and keeps up with her. Her heart always skips a beat when Verner now crosses her mind, causing the aloof persona to slip solely to give free rein to her inner warmth that’s been  “Really good.”

Her smile softens when she remembers all the instances of where Verner heir has shown what makes him perfect inside her head. Each action that made her know there is warmth in his approach to her; he stepped closer despite the years in separation. A rival knows her best, she’s sure of it, but also because it seems their experience has been similar. Socialites. The peaks of social interaction manipulators, controlling the conversation and walking forward with confidence or else you’ll be eaten by the wolves which waited for one mistake. 

Hawke closes her eyes again; the clock is still showing 7:30 AM. He left so early, but it’s fine. Reese said he’ll be back by 10:00 AM or so, she’ll close her eyes for five minutes and then get up to prepare for the day. It’s not going to be too long until he returns… 

…

…

…

It’s 9:45 AM. 

Hurrying back to the Verner mansion hasn’t been the priority before. It’s been cold and empty, uninviting and unwelcoming. There has been only [Redacted] waiting, strolling around the marble floors as if he owned the place since the beginning. A little fluffy rascal. 

Reese finds himself pleased at the prospect of returning to the mansion today, knowing full well that this time the mansion won’t be a lonely and hollow husk of a home that once occupied more than him and his mother. There was a presence left from earlier this morning, a beloved presence of a golden falcon. 

And yet… 

“Where is she?” Verner heir raises an eyebrow in an inquiry when he doesn’t hear the familiar sounds coming from the kitchen. 

Zarina insisted on making homemade meals when she was over, stating it’s essential to enjoy something a loved one makes. At his request to assist her, she denied him most graciously… with a spatula lifted up and a stern look that asked him to sit back and be pretty. The memory makes him feel warmer. Despite the aloof and cold external persona, Hawke has been quite gentle and sweet to him on more than one occasion. He guessed his charms did the trick. 

(She chose him. He caught her gaze. He won her smile.)

It becomes a game of hide-and-seek as Reese tries to check all the rooms where he’s found the silverette before but right now, he cannot find her. She couldn’t have left without a car, he just arrived. It’s still early morning. Not in the gardens, not in the kitchen, not in the main living room, not in the library, not in… 

“It cannot be,” he huffs with amusement, cracking up at the idea that appeared in his head. Immediately, the blonde heir’s footsteps echo in the empty hallway on the way to his own room he left this morning. If his guess is true, he’ll have a good laugh. 

There is no way Hawke would oversleep. 

Except, she does. 

Snuggled in the bedsheets and still hugging his pillow, an expression of peace and tranquility on her pretty face. Verner has to lean against the doorway, arms loosely crossed over his chest as a fond look crosses his handsome features. Blue eyes soften in their look but there is a crinkle of amused mischief in them, his smile becomes more playful as he approaches his, no, their bed. He now can also see [Redacted] lounging on the place where his pillow has been previously, now an empty spot for the furry companion to take. At his entrance, cat’s eyes greet him but he shows no wish to move. 

“Best friends already, I see,” he utters, holding back a laugh. His steps are slow, quiet, soft to not awaken the sleeping beauty. There is a second of wonder if she’ll be groggy upon waking up, oversleeping isn’t her favorite thing to do. And yet he finds her current peace to be touching, heart-warming even. 

Sleep comes with hardship to either of them; Fernweh ensures they are reminded of harsh traumas and past experiences frequently. 

“You made me search up the whole mansion, Hawke,” he whispers, sitting down on the mattress near her. With a small smile, the heir reaches out his hand to brush off locks of silver off her cheek. The woman’s eyelashes tremble, even such a simple touch stirs her awake. Reese decides it’d be better if she wakes up, he misses her. Plus, headaches from oversleeping can be quite unfavorable. “Hawke?” 

“Mhmm,” there is only a subtle unhappy sound, nose scrunching in mild unhappiness before he taps her cheek, enjoying this single instance of an endearing sight. When her eyes open, her next questions sound muffled and her voice is hoarse. The lower note to her tonality gives him a new appreciation for her deep tone. “What? Reese?”

“The one and only,” he proclaims with a proud smirk, a teasing gleam in his eyes continuing to mix with adoration over this wonderful sight. Maybe he should’ve taken a photo. Should he ask the Visitor about his camera and if there are any he’ll recommend? No matter, not now. “Are you awake now?”

“Did you… forget something?” 

Oh. Oh, this is too good. 

“I can assure you that there is nothing that has been forgotten.”

“Then,” she narrows her eyes, sleep still clouding her amber gaze. “Did you cancel? Why are you here so early?”

Her confused expression is a rarity he savors wholly, taking in with good-natured humor and memorizing for the future. It’ll be an adorable way to tease her here and there. But he is happy she’s gotten a better sleep, such peace and in his bed? It can only mean she’s comfortable and feels safe in his company, in his room, in his house. Zarina isn’t someone who seems to have known safety enough (and neither did he, or is it ‘warmth’ he’s been missing?).

“The meeting has concluded favorably and I just returned. Now imagine my surprise when I could not find you in your usual hiding spots,” he lets his fingers trace her jaw and lower to her chin. “It is already quarter to ten, Hawke.” His smile widens into an entertained grin. 

Comically, her eyes widen as she stares at him. 

“It’s what?” 

“It is almost ten in the morning.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.” 

There is a pause. 

“Did you sleep well?” Verner asks, retreating his hand from her cheek to offer it with his palm up for her to take. She does, immediately holding his hand in hers in a gentle grasp. “You rarely fall back asleep after you wake up,”  it’s spoken from experience.

Zarina smiles at his question, a soft one that speaks of full relaxation. Sleep still has yet to fully let go, a lethargic state of oversleeping causing her to muse before answering his question. Reese holds her hand a bit tighter, but nothing too harsh or restricting. Any time she wishes to bring her hand back to herself, he’ll let go (alas, not happy to do so). 

“I rarely do, don’t I?” Her rhetorical question doesn’t need an answer, so she continues, eyes glancing at their joined hands, giving a squeeze back as a way to wordlessly communicate. “But I did. Today was a good night.” 

“It certainly was,” he gives her a knowing look, cockiness oozing from those words. Hawke laughs at that, now more awake than before and she gives him a mischievous smirk. “I am correct, you know that.”

“Yes, you are,” she rolls her eyes at him without losing the smile, “But I mean that I slept soundly. No nightmares, no bad dreams, no dreams at all actually. Well, aside one.”

His interest is piqued immediately, expression giving it away as he doesn’t bother hiding the curiosity if she’s willing to share the dream. Noticing his look, the silverette’s smile softens into something warmer, something that only belongs to him. Now this is curious, the dream must be a good one if she reacts like this and if she’s looking at him? 

“Did you dream of me?” He asks, more confident in his question than ever. She makes it obvious and he is now more interested than ever. 

“I did,” she admits, feeding his ego with easy admittance. “I dreamt of the first week when I was back. I don’t remember it all, but it made me appreciate what you do all over again.” 

“You are good at keeping my interest piqued, Hawke,” he chuckles. 

“I made you say ‘please’ twice in the forest,” she recalls, looking away from him. 

Reese narrows his eyes. The memory of the forest traveled isn’t his favorite; he grimaces slightly, remembering the worry he felt when she almost slipped off that darn bridge. He almost had a heart attack., he swears.

“You always keep walking next to me, not in front of me,” her continuation makes him look back at her, surprised. “You always checked on me, stood close when events were rising in tension. You observed me closely for any signs of discomfort…”

She remembers. She notices. She treasures.

Now he wonders if he’s had her looking for longer than expected. It gives a new wave of affection within, her noticing those moments shows that she’s looking at him and is taking in the actions. All of his moves are calculated. He is a Verner, he has to ensure everything he does carries a specific message. A touch, a look, a sentence. She’s been receiving it all the time since her return. 

How flattering; his work pays off. No, not work, his wishes. His wordless messages. 

“I knew you would be able to discern exactly what I have been so carefully trying to convey,” Reese says, both flattered and pleasantly surprised she decided to speak on those. Happiness settles in, each action of theirs gives different messages. “I must admit, I did not expect you to remember everything. You must be always watching me, Hawke. How deeply ingrained am I in your mind?” 

“Deep enough to always be present when my eyes close,” she answers flirtatiously, almost purring out those words. Reese’s pride swells, his smile speaks enough of how he’s ready to boast. “All of those moments build a bigger picture, Reese. I saw your sincerity through those actions. Such respect you show me… Your ex-childhood rival-now-lover.”

“Now some of those actions have become second nature. It is what you do well, Hawke; you have an incredible effect on me,” he admits, showing a more loving smile to her that only belongs to her. “What else has that dream reminded you of?” He is curious, he wants to know more. It will help him understand her better, and know how he is seen by her.  

“You wanted to be friends, didn’t you?” Zarina smiles at him, pleased with herself at the spoken question and at the expression he’s giving her. “When we were young. It’s quite obvious now.”

Blue eyes flash with a fleeting emotion, too fast to read and quickly repressed. Caught red handed? He is hiding the answer. 

“Is it now? Why would it be?” 

“Itinerary.” 

“It was essential for our playdate to be perfect.” 

“The school dance.” 

“Who else would prove to you there was no one better than I?” 

“Choosing me as a rival.”

“There was no one else who could give me a valuable experience of equality in academics and extracurriculars at the same time.”

Despite not catching him answering the question with yes or no, Zarina remains satisfied with their banter. 

“Are you satisfied with these answers, Hawke?” He bends down to kiss her, but instead is met with her finger pressed against his lips. What is this? He frowns in confusion slightly, giving her a questioning look. If she doesn’t take this index finger off, he will bite; she’s aware. 

“I’m not kissing you until I brush my teeth again,” she says, tapping his lips before letting go of his hand and showing she wants to get up. “This morning’s routine we’ve done together now needs to be repeated since I overslept.” 

A grumble of disappointment is tamed when her laughter echoes in the room.  

“Let’s go take a shower,” she proposes, immediately getting his interested look. “Together, yes.”

“A compromise,” he says out loud thoughtfully before giving her a knowing smirk. “Sounds delightful. I accept.”

She huffs a laugh now, pushing the blanket off her to get off the bed. “Of course, you do. We need to eat breakfast, so we need to finish fast.”

They exchange looks. 

“Don’t start.”

“It is not me who started the race, Hawke. You have done so wonderfully already.”

She rolls her eyes at him, “Undress, Verner.”

“Someone is quite bossy in the morning.” 

“Someone is about to get locked out of the shower.”

He laughs again, getting up to undo his tie and begin to undress as she gets up to head towards the bathroom. “I am utterly terrified,” he jests, soft sarcasm sounding all too smug. He can't take his gaze away from the way she walks, a sway of her hips and a glance over her shoulder that eggs him on to hurry him. He does. He has another prize to claim.

[littlemissbumblebee]

THE FERNWEH SAGA by @lacunafiction: RETURNING VISITOR - ELENA FIALA. 

Full Name: Elena "Lena/Charmer" Fiala Grandpa's Name: Avgust Fiala D.O.B.: Nov 28, Sagittarius Personality: sincere // reckless // friendly // optimistic // merciful. Traits: heart // resistance // skeptic // cooperative. Past affinity: writing  Primary ability: empathetic impressions Past susceptibility: healthy Previous occupation: photographer and graphic design, also does freelance writing here and there. RO: James Corvin (JR is a secondary canon route). Favorite flowers: Forget-Me-Nots (and carnations).

As brainworms continue to overtake my mind, a new MC for TFS is born because I've caused much pain and angst to J Corvin with my other two MCs (Zarina & Clara who I won't really go into for now). So as an apology to J Corvin, I am bringing our Detective the silliest of sillies to weight out that stoic personality. This MC follows the rule of: Smart in theory, dumb in practice. Please be aware she's a silly one for a reason.

Several things to note:

Academically very smart (4.0 GPA girl), but does a lot of stupid things that cause people to consider her not that smart and then get shocked when she writes exceptional essays and is very good in math or connecting the dots when it comes to mystery shows/detective shows.

Charming without meaning: She accidentally flirts with people without meaning, but when she genuinely wants to flirt - she messes up. Smooth when she doesn't mean it and stumbles when she does mean it.

Believes in supernatural partially in a sense of: I don't want to offend the ghost family, ok, I think Ouija board is messed up. Thinks it'd be cool if supernatural existed for real until meeting the spriggan to which she went 'OH FUCK NO, I WAS JOKING ABOUT WANTING TO HUG A MOTHMAN'.

Can say the stupidest thing to make others laugh because it makes her happy: seeing her favorite people laugh and smile.

She needs a kid leash to hold her back from her excitement. Girl not only has overflowing energy but also ADHD. It's incredible.

Thinks all of her friend are handsome/hot/beautiful and has a mostly friendly internally crisis over that.

Now to relationships!

GRANDFATHER (AVGUST FIALA): Elena loved her grandfather and truly believed that she was sent away because her grandfather thought it was the best course of action. She didn't hate her grandfather and didn't internalize the the abandonment. Her grandfather inspired her love for photography and art, which continues to serve as her coping and her genuine sense of happiness. However, shockingly enough, she thinks that he actually had issues with his head when initially finding his journal. She believes that grief drove him to start writing those things or maybe he was not mentally stable which is why he sent her away: so he won't hurt her. However, after the spriggan, she becomes a very quick believer.

BECKETT WARRICK: Bestie. Beckett is fully aware of how energetic Elena is, which helps them balance each other out as the optimist and pessimistically oriented realist. They both get along very well and met as teens when taking photos of the golden hour. They share passion in photography and started to hang out together and even went to the same college together! Lena treasures Bee's friendship and considers him her best friend, which is a mutual feeling. They mostly act like silly siblings, harboring no romantic feelings for each other. Beckett is known to remind Elena to take it easy and to take a break when she gets overly enthusiastic about things. He knows she's not too naive, but he is also aware that she is a person who wants to help people and be a positive influence on those around her. However, he is always there to remind her that not all people deserve the treatment as to help protect her from getting hurt.

RUBY VERNER: As a hyper energetic kid, Elena was more than happy to hang out with Ruby and take part in challenges with her. Be it running around, writing, music, anything, really. Because of how Verner heir acted, Fiala always thought that Ruby wanted to be friends but said that rivals is cooler. She always considered the blonde a friend, but never said it out loud since Ruby was insistent on calling them rivals. Upon her return to Fernweh, Elena lost her speech because suddenly the funny rival she had in childhood became a goddess of beauty and she was speechless when meeting her initially. She is happy to see her and even happier to build up their friendship even better. On JR route, she grows to really like Ruby and finds herself attracted to her, causing to often blushing and occasion slip ups of comedic attempts at flirting with the elegant Verner heir.

SOFIA DORRAN: Elena always found Sofia to be exceptionally cool. She was quiet, reserved but kind and really damn cool. She was a bit intimidated by her at first, but wanted to be friends with her because she always read cool things and Mrs Dorran was a delight to spend time with. As neighbors, Fiala always tried to get out to hang out with Sofia, but the discussions were usually filled with Elena being the long rambling talker and Sofia laughing softly at the hilarity of stories the blonde would tell. Upon her return to Fernweh, Elena would have a similar reaction to Sofia as she did to Ruby: at a loss because Sofia not only was super tall, but also became super pretty! However, with excitement to reunite with her childhood neighbor, Fiala would wish to reunite and talk about all the things that happened between her leave and what's been going on. She appreciated Sofia's assistance to her Grandfather, and thanked her personally when they were alone because she was worried her grandfather was wholly alone.

JAMES CORVIN: James Corvin was her most special friends and someone she clearly missed after leaving Fernweh. She thought of returning as soon as she would be able to establish herself and save up enough money to travel there in a better circumstance, but she missed him deeply and dearly. He was her childhood best friend, but he was also so much more: he was her first true crush and he was her first kiss. As kids, they were inseparable and always hung out together.

Thanks to Jay, Elena has a lot of reminders of him by adopting favorite flowers of Forget-Me-Nots and even having different types of accessories that have those flowers in them. Upon her return to Fernweh, Elena was at a loss of words upon seeing James change so much from how he was a kid. The poor woman could only think about how suddenly her childhood friend became a man and he was also super tall, which caused her heart to skip a beat like in romance shows and she felt silly upon experiencing such strong emotions.

However, Elena grows more and more concerned about James as the time in Fernweh goes on because she notices on his overworking, on his late night patrols, and the exhausted state alongside his stoic behaviors. Thanks to those worries, Elena tries to make James smile through jokes or trying to do silly things, reminding him of the good things and sharing the good things with him from trying to make him things while she's in Fernweh. It's her newfound mission to try and know the adult James but also to make sure that he doesn't feel guilty over not being able to save her grandfather or other people. She wants to be his support and tries to help him emotionally and mentally, hoping to alleviate some strain... but sadly she is also quite reckless, which gives the detective a bit of grey hair with how easy-going and laid-back she is.

MAL: She thinks the waiter a strange man. How does he know her favorite things? Is she just that predictable? Either way, she thinks that his kind gestures in giving her a free drink and also helping her out there and there are all good. They seem to have an amicable relationship, but she is mostly interested in a friendship, wondering if he's lonely or not.

[littlemissbumblebee]

Reblog to get the creature to come to you. Like to give them a little gift of some sort.

[littlemissbumblebee]

Also on this trend!

Mama Silver on the left, Bubba Silver on the right :3

like mother like daughter. // picrew.

for the fernweh saga specifically. the mother hawke on the left & the daughter hawke on the right.

inspired by @alexeizzo & @littlemissbumblebee !

[littlemissbumblebee]

Ah fuck she's been spotted 🤣🤣🤣 "what do you MEAN she was flirting???"

[littlemissbumblebee]

@reesevernerlovebot you and Alex.

shoutout to my brother for setting me up for this

[littlemissbumblebee]

I'm doing it again.

Falling for people I can't have.

Watching powerless as my heart starts to open

Knowing that all it'll be rewarded with is ache.

And yet the damn thing won't stop beating.

I envy people that can only love one at a time.

It's a superpower I wish I had.

Then maybe the ghosts that hold pieces of my heart couldn't cling so tightly.

Instead, I lay awake, in love with phantoms and the untouchable

While my heart aches with every soft gasp that echoes through the house.

Maybe I'm just selfish... that's probably it.

A greedy heart, eager to give itself to every friend I make.

I wonder if our happily ever after tastes sweeter without me in it?

Without the baggage. The broken wings. The desperation. The longing.

What's wrong with me?

Always in love with the unattainable. The unbelievable. The unreachable.

Why do I *crave* to feel wanted, to be told I'm on their minds?

Why do I love so fiercely and so freely?

Why can't I stop?

I feel heavy.

Smothered in open air.

Drowning on dry land.

[littlemissbumblebee]

Kiss Me Breathless.

Name: Kiss Me Breathless. (AO3 Link) Fandom: The Fernweh Saga (created by lovely @lacunafiction ) Characters: Beckett Warrick, Zarina Hawke (The Returning Visitor) Dynamic: Lovers. Warning: Mature/Explicit. What To Expect: Heavy Makeout, Messy Kisses, Dry Humping, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension. Synopsis: Beckett Warrick is the strongest soldier in this goddamn town of Fernweh.

Beckett Warrick is the strongest soldier in this goddamn town of Fernweh. 

Or so Zarina wants to say as she’s been attempting several rounds of subtle flirtations to see if she could get the mood going and if she could hint to her beloved orange-hoodie wearing sunshine that she would like to enjoy something more… intimate. 

It’s almost comedic how she’s been so gently and carefully kissed on the cheek, nose, forehead, even inner wrist but had gotten nowhere closer to creating a more romantically intimate atmosphere. She should be fantastic at it, setting up the mood and seducing others has never been an issue. But Beckett isn’t ‘everyone’ and he certainly isn’t someone she wants to just ‘fool around’ with. 

What makes it even funnier is that she is quite aware how Warrick behaves, noting his careful behaviors and shyer approaches. As if he’s afraid to offend or push too hard. She doesn’t want to pressure him either. What she did think was that maybe doing something more romantic would be fun or maybe she wanted to learn what he liked to dislike. After all, their time spent together has been good. It’s been very good, but she noticed the reach outs and the step backs. She noticed the wish to do something more and then retracting, Beckett’s smile was gentle and sweet as always. 

“We haven’t even made out much…” Zarina mumbles as she sorts the snack bowl, her fluffy slippers remain a reminder that she’s got to return to the couch in a moment. 

Hawke knows quite well that it was enjoyable for both sides. It makes her think of those times when they would kiss and it would linger, but it would be short-lived as there would be a moment of retraction solely because he didn’t want to push for more, as if he didn’t deserve far more. It’s her mission to prove him wrong. 

If there is a word to describe the photographer it would be: an angel. Or so she’d call him inside her mind, knowing full well he is as human as she is with virtues and vices. In the moment of frustrated irritation, however, the angelic patience and careful touches were igniting more of her inner demon than anything else. 

The questions surrounding her own beauty make it to her head: 

Am I not hot enough? Am I being too subtle? 

The questions continue, causing Hawke to stand in the kitchen and preparing some snacks for them to enjoy during a movie night. He didn’t say anything about her tank top and shorts, he didn’t say anything about her hairstyle either. But she did notice him looking! She did! The issue was not that she thought he didn’t understand what she was trying to do, but that he was too sweet and nice to make her uncomfortable. Beckett has always been like that: attentive, hyper aware, and always observant. And she loved him for everything he was, is, and will be. 

Zarina takes a moment to look down at herself, lower lip pushed a bit forward in a pout as she specifically tried to make herself look cozy but still just disheveled enough to give glimpses at her bra and the short were just a bit shorter than usual because maybe she wanted Bee to look and enjoy the view. She loves to look at herself in the mirror too: this body is something she worked for! But it’s different, Beckett is different. 

“Rina?” Beckett’s voice brings Hawke out of her scheming over how to create a more romantic situation without making it the same as those who didn’t matter (because Warrick always mattered). “Are you okay?” 

Oh no, he’s already in the kitchen and looks worried. Her heart can’t take it, it’s not his fault she’s having a lowkey crisis over how to seduce him without being too forceful. 

“Sorry, was I long?” She straightens up, stepping away from where she was making the platter of snacks. Her attention remains fully on Warrick, which helps her see how he looks away for a moment before giving her a familiar soft yet concerned smile. He’s worried, it’s so easy to see. 

When he extends her hand to her, she takes it. They’ve done this before, even before they became ‘us’. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” he gently prods, placing his other hand on top of hers he’s holding. It’s warm; his hands are so warm and she looks down at their hold before looking up at him. The hazel eyes are full of love and adoration, it makes her press her lips together before sighing. 

“Am I…” Zarina starts, but stops. If she does ask these questions, she’d like to do it sitting down in case a reaction would be more than she expects. “Let me grab the snacks and I’ll tell you.”

“Sure. Need help?”

“Yes, could you please grab some water bottles?” 

“Of course. Anything else?” 

“No, that’s good. If you want juice, go ahead and get it out of the fridge.”

“Water’s good. We can probably make some decaf tea in case you’re cold.”

Oh, I wouldn’t be cold if I could make out with you, Hawke thinks to herself and suddenly smiles at the response her mind decided to give her. Truly, one of a kind! Wait, no, she needs to concentrate on what’s going on right now. 

As they bring everything and place it on the small table near the couch, Beckett doesn’t hesitate to sit down next to her and turn himself to face Hawke. She takes his hand into hers and he shows how attentive he is by tilting his head to the side. Zarina finds herself smitten over this showcase of care, wishing she could kiss the slight furrow of his eyebrows to make him stop frowning so much with worry.

“So, what’s going on? Do you… want to talk about it?”

“You’re always so observant,” Zarina chuckles, but it’s light and warm. His frown lessens, seeing as there is nothing too bad or too tense. “This is going to sound… Funny.”

“If it bothers you, I wouldn’t call it funny,” he immediately responds and Zarina has to bite the tip of her tongue not to laugh. Oh no, she finds herself to be utterly ridiculous for this. The way his hold tightens a bit, a showcase of care and genuine worry. He’s attentive, eyes searching for any signs of wrong and tiredness. It’s warm, so delightfully warm to be close to him. 

“No, no, it’s nothing bad. How do I say this?” Hawke shakes her head, an amused, small smile gracing her lips. 

There is a moment of silence before she continues: 

“Am I not giving the right signals?” 

His dumbfounded reaction is all she needs to move on with the conversation. 

“What?” 

“Is this outfit,” she gestures at herself with her free hand, the other still holding onto Beckett’s. “Not making you, I don’t know, horny even a little bit?” 

There is another moment of silence; it becomes comedic at this point. Warrick’s blinking and Hawke’s rising shame over her comedic worries only weigh down until she hears a loud sigh of relief coming from her beloved. Now, it’s her turn to owlishly blink at Beckett before she sees his smile at her with that shy and sweet curl. Her heart skips a beat. 

“I was worried there was something else…” His tone shows such genuine and adoring warmth, it almost feels as Warrick’s love for her couldn’t be clearer seen but somehow that softened look does the job too well. The small tilt of his head, the way his thumb caresses over the skin of her palm, the way that worry melted into pure affection.  

“It is a concern. Am I not hot enough?” 

“No! You are, I mean, you’re very hot and pretty and,” he suddenly stammers, trying to find as many adjectives befitting his once best friend no girlfriend yet the blush that appears on his cheeks is enough to give her a sensation of genuine relief. She’s not losing her touch in reading him. “You’re the best, you always are. I think you’re always pretty and hot, too, is that okay to say? I don’t want to…”

“Bee,” she gently stops him, reaching to cup his cheek and to turn his face to her. Her gaze of amber softens, showing nothing but genuine adoration and love. “It’s alright. It makes me happy. Can I tell you one thing too?” 

“Of course,” he responds, reassuring as always despite seemingly melting into her touch. “Anything.”

“I don’t want to push you,” she begins, “I don’t want to accidentally make you uncomfortable. You are… you are always so good to me. And you know me, I can be a lot.” 

If a look could melt, Hawke was afraid she’d be a puddle already. Despite how she knew Beckett dislikes the conflict or anything that would make him step out of his comfort zone when it comes to speaking of his opinion, he would never hesitate to speak his mind. Especially with her. It was what they discussed with each other: being honest, always. The basis of their bond is trust and loyalty, everyone could see it. 

“Rina,” he gently stops her before she continues, wanting to let her know what he feels. Even if blood rushes to his face and he feels his heart beat too fast, making him worry if his hands will get sweaty from the rush of emotions. Warrick rubs the back of his neck, his smile is sheepish but loving as he continues. “You never push me. I-if anything, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You, me, us, it’s…” He breathes out, but notes on how attentively the gaze of amber watches him. It gives Beckett enough of a push to continue with his train of thought. “It’s wonderful, really. I still have a hard time believing it’s… real. Us, I mean.” 

The sincerity is evident in his words, but it’s exactly that sincerity that makes Hawke move forward. Without letting him say another word, go into a nervous ramble because he just wants to be better and be good for her, Zarina cuts the distance between the two of them to kiss him. The way his hazel eyes widen, the way his hold on her hand tightens, and the way he responds to the kiss are all there is for her and forever will be. But it’s short, shorter than both of them wanted it to be; it’s quite obvious by the way Beckett almost chases her lips and the way she looks at him. 

The way the short silent lingers between them, they’re not too far away from each other. There is a subtle tension that grows with each second. Zarina smiles sweetly and Warrick reflects that with his own shy smile. 

“Then we better make sure that you believe this is real, hm?” Her whisper is a laced with subtle mirth yet there is too much adoration to notice it, Beckett only opens his eyes wider from surprise when he watches her move closer to him, placing a kiss to his cheek before freeing her hand from his hold and gently push him to sit on the couch. 

“Rina? What are yo---” He is silenced by her index finger pressed against his lips as she places her other hand on his shoulder, climbing on his lap to straddle him, hovering at first. The blush that appears on his cheeks deepens as he looks at her, wide-eyed and so in love, yet there is shyness and untapped excitement that causes him to move under her a bit. His gaze asks her if this is alright and she just nods at him, settling down on his lap. 

Warrick swallows when he feels the weight on his lap, hands on both sides of him squeeze into fists as he finds his own heart jump at the sensation. Oh, this is real-real. Zarina is on his lap, he becomes all too hyper aware of the situation they’re in, the atmosphere, the feeling in the air. He did smell her perfume before, but for some reason it’s far stronger now: the gentle sweetness. As warm as she is despite her usually running cold (he knows, his hoodies are her warmers). 

Hazel eyes look around, nervous to look at her as if it’s taboo to lay his eyes on the one he loved for so long. He only catches her soft yet amused smile, the tilts of her head, the exposed neck. Damn, he can feel any shift, any movement. Does she hear his heartbeat? It feels like his heart is beating so fast. 

His best friend, his girlfriend now. She is sitting on his lap. Pretty, gorgeous, wearing her favorite shorts and a tank top that squeezes her figure in just the right places, the fabric across her chest stretching whenever she takes a deeper breath, her exposed thighs causing him to feel like his heart is beating in his ears now. He once dreamed about this, something similar, and that shame over imagining his best friend then made him unable to look at her in the morning for half an hour, shifting from embarrassment. 

And right now? This is reality. This is the present. 

Zarina loves him and he loves her. The feelings harbored over the years spilling into something more, something more intoxicating and he is almost scared this is a dream but the way those amber eyes look at him and the way she leads his hands to rest on her waist makes him let out a soft, dreamy sigh. 

He almost bunches the fabric of her tank top while trying to calm down his rapidly increasing heartbeat. Something to hold onto, he’s afraid he’s going to lose it and pass out from how hot his face feels. And Zarina seems to find it adorable, hands remaining on top of his, caressing the knuckles, easing his tension and letting him get used to this. 

Hawke must be feeling the same judging by her look, eyes glimmering from delight as she caresses his cheek, pressing a kiss to his forehead first. It’s soft; no one but him knows this gentle softness, no one knows this intense care, no one knows the loving smiles she can give. Zarina doesn’t show them to anyone but him, indulging in his company as he basks in her presence. They both saw each other as being too good for each other, a discussion they’ve had before with reassurance being offered from both sides. 

I love you. 

I love you too. 

“I love you,” Zarina says, a whisper so tender he might tear up at the reassurance she brings to him no matter what they do. But he doesn’t understand, not yet, how much the same reassurance he brings to her when he says her name, holds her hand, asks her how she feels. He is yet to learn the vastness of his influence on her, the guiding light to sanity. 

“I love you too,” he breathes out in the same tender yet hushed tone, finding this closeness to be melting his nerves away. There is a subtle eagerness lighting up in his eyes as he glances down at her lips and Hawke smiles again (he loves her smile, he wants to keep making her smile) before the distance between them is erased again, lips locked. 

Zarina wraps her arms around his neck as his hands reach higher to hug her closer to him. The closeness between their bodies non-existent at this point, the kiss is far more passionate than the previous softness. Hawke’s cherry chapstick feels nice to the taste, but what makes the mind melt away is the intensity that is born from the tension built up.

Beckett’s hands trace up and down her back as her hand reaches up to have her fingers entangle themselves in his hair, a gentle pull causing him to open his mouth mid-kiss and having the silverette take that as an advantage to deepen to kiss. 

A subtle moan escapes him, muffled by the closeness and lack of distance. Zarina closes her eyes, giving her all into the kiss. Only when there is not enough air in their lungs do they distance, heavy breathing being the only sound in their living room. Beckett fills like his head is full of mist, body heating up yet he notices the longing for another kiss while Hawke tries to get herself reigned back, the wish to be closer to him makes her consider letting go of control and give in to the desire. 

“Rina…” 

Amber eyes widen in surprise at the hoarse sound of his voice, the way Beckett seems like he pleads for another kiss and who she is to tell him no? Especially when she wants the same. And so, she lessens the hold on her own control, choosing to listen to her heart and her body, listening to the instinct that understood this far better than logic would. 

Another kiss follows, desire dancing between them, making the air around feel warmer, hotter even. It gets hard to breathe, the sensors are overwhelmed with the feeling of each other so close. The scent of his soap mixing with the smell of her perfume, it’s all mixing into something perfect as Beckett’s hand accidentally lifts the fabric of her tank top, exposing skin and having his fingertips caress it. Suddenly, his body goes rigid and Hawke immediately interrupts the kiss. “Are you okay?” She is immediately alert.

“Y-yeah,” he responds, giving her a shy smile. “I-Is it… alright if I… touch you?” 

Hawke almost takes off her tank top right then and there solely to have him touch her wherever he wanted, but she decides against it. For now. For these seconds. Instead, she must lead him, just enough until he’s more comfortable. 

“You mean under my tank top?” Silverette clarifies, to which Warrick nods. “You can. Want me to take it off?” 

He almost stutters, fingers grasping her waist a bit stronger from surprise at the inquiry and from how his brain gave him an immediate answer. Is it really alright, his nervousness asked. How lucky it was that Hawke was a perfect translator to Beckett Warrick’s body language. 

“Y-you don’t have to, I mean, I would like that, but only… Only if you’re okay with it,” the more he speaks, the quieter he gets but how lucky it is that Zarina is this close, so even his mumble would be heard loud and clear. His heart jumps in his chest again at the sight of her softening expression as she kisses his cheek again, letting go of his neck and Sitting up straight. 

“With how you’re holding me, I guess you want to help me, Bee?” Her gentle amusement is laced with a teasing yet loving undertone and Warrick doesn’t get what she means until he looks at his hands on her waist, bunching the fabric of her tank top under his fingertips. Immediately, he lets go, bringing his hands closer to himself as if he was caught red-handed trying to steal something sacred. 

“I-I’m sorry, did it hurt?” 

Oh no, he’s so cute… Zarina almost bites her lip to stop herself from smiling, but instead she reaches to grasp his hands and intertwine their fingers, a way to let him know it’s alright. 

“Beckett,” she calls his name in a patient tone, making sure to bring his attention to her. It works like a charm, his eyes meeting hers. “I want you to touch me… so much more. Everywhere. And I mean it, I want you to touch me everywhere you want.” 

It’s hard to look away when she looks at him like this, so earnest in her desire yet there is an underlying passion that makes her amber eyes shine brighter. Or is it the illusion of this moment? None of them care, not when this moment is so different compared to their previous kisses, make outs even. It usually ended before the question of hands going under each other’s skin. 

She’s been so careful with him, Beckett noticed. Knowing her eagerness and her history, he knows she’s doing it all to make him comfortable. 

Can you be even more perfect? This is the question that lingers in his mind when he looks at his best friend, now girlfriend. The spark. The spark he hasn’t felt before with others is finally there and he wants to make sure she also knows that he isn’t fragile. He wants this as much as she does, but he understands her. He understands why she’s being so careful. 

“I want… you to touch me too,” he says, communicating his wish with her verbally.

This is new. This is a change. This is them together, as a couple. They both are trying to understand these changes and adjust to them, learning where each preference and boundary lies. They’ve been best friends for too long, they’ve harbored these feelings for too long, they’ve wanted this for too long. 

So there is no need to rush, to jump, but there is a need to speak, to look into each other’s eyes and speak their mind. 

Zarina opens her mouth to say something before closing it, instead her gaze returns to its adoring shade and Beckett continues to think just how gorgeous she looks when she smiles. This honesty burns his cheeks and makes him feel shy but he wants to let her know. The blush on his cheeks is not because of his hesitation, but because of his own eagerness. He wants to let her know he feels the same, he knows he has to say it. 

Because Zarina Hawke always looked out for what made him comfortable. She always noticed just like he did. She always did what made him comfortable, ensuring his comfort and safety. And he, too, always wanted to give her the same support and comfort. Thus, he speaks his mind, no matter how tongue tied he may become from the overwhelming feeling and the hyper awareness of their closeness. 

“Tell me if you want to stop, alright?” 

“Of course, don’t worry, Rina.”

As they smile at each other, lovestruck from each other’s openness and communication, they kiss again. But this time, Warrick’s hand slides under the fabric of her tank top, tracing the skin beneath and feeling the way Hawke shifts on his lap, moving closer. Zarina’s chest presses against his, the softness yet firmness isn’t lost on either of them. The kiss turns open mouthed, messier the more they get into it. They stop once, twice to catch their breaths yet return to each other with new passion, new vigor. 

Zarina’s own moan is muffled by their kiss when she feels the warmth of Beckett’s hands on her back and also on her exposed thigh. Beckett finds himself loving that sound, mind only thinking of the woman he loves. He’s drowning in this sweetness, in her. It’s the same with Hawke as she lightly bites Beckett’s lower lip to make him gasp, her fingers find the wavy curls of his hair, playing with them by gently pulling or tugging. They try out several angles for kisses, tilting heads to find an even better way to kiss, to drown in each other. 

It’s when Hawke shifts in his lap when they both have to break the kiss to let out a similarly sweet sound. The way her body moved on its own in the midst of the makeout, grinding against him, causing Warrick’s own hips to buckle. The intensity gave path to a far deeper desire, a far more primal, causing bodies to act before logic. Instead of another kiss, Beckett wraps his hands around her body to hide his face in the crook of her neck. His face is hot, burning from the sensations that he hasn’t felt in such intensity before. 

Zarina, too, almost moved away from him solely because she didn’t want to move anything forward until the hazel-eyed photographer was comfortable with it. And yet, when he keeps her close, Hawke hugs him back, they are pressed so close, it’s making her head spin… along with how often they’ve kissed, she lost count. Her mind is filled with euphoric melodies, her body longs for more friction. 

“B-Beckett? A-Are you alright?” Her breathless voice is hoarse as his is, a new melody that he finds attractive beyond, even better than what he once imagined. 

“Y-yeah,” he responds, “it’s just… It feels nice.”

“Too nice?” She finds it in herself to chuckle to which Beckett lets his lips press against her neck, closing his eyes. 

“Mhmm,” he agrees non-verbally, letting out a sound, afraid that his voice will betray him. 

“I-it feels nice for me too,” she confesses, patting his head, hoping to help him either calm down or ease into this new sensation. “D-do you want me to move again?”

“Please,” it almost comes out as a plea, but he doesn’t let go. 

Her upper body remains pressed against him. Can they feel each other’s heartbeat like this? Hawke finds herself swallowing dryly, her mind feeling like a mush combined of her love for Beckett, excitement over the development, and a yearning desire for more. They both breathe heavily, their pulse running faster than ever from the excitement. 

“Mhmm, okay,” her whisper is hushed as she wraps her arms around him, feeling his hold weaken just enough to let her move easier. 

The way Warrick keeps kissing her neck only makes it harder to stop, so she doesn’t. As if testing, she moves her hips against him, feeling the growing bulge in his pants. It makes her happy, it makes her far happier than she wants to say out loud. He wants her as much as she wants him, his body yearns for her too. The soft spoken curse words on another langue reaches her ear and Zarina presses her hips harder against him, eliciting a mixture between a groan and a moan. He sounds so beautiful, she wants to hear so much more but her own voice comes out in the same way.

The mixture of a gasp and a moan as they both move, trying to reach for more friction between each other. It feels good, it feels so good while being so close. It feels just absurd enough that they don’t move to the bedroom at this point, but they are lost in each other. Beckett’s hand rests on the small of her back while Zarina’s is back to his hair, they are so impossibly close to each other. The only thing separating them are their clothes, and even they make them feel stuffy at this point. 

The air is filled with soft sounds of moans and gasps.

“B-Beckett,” she utters his name, breathless from how turned on she feels from this dry humping. It feels so good, so fucking good but she’s afraid she may not be able to stop if they continue. Warrick breathes as heavily as she does, finding himself twitching under her touch when the pressure against his groin is harsher with growing desperation and need. 

Can they … Can they take this farther? 

“Rina, I…” He begins, unable to think of a coherent way to express his feelings. And just when he wants to say something more… 

RING! 

The couple tenses from shock at the sudden ringing. It’s the doorbell from downstairs. The moment snaps just like that, causing them to look at each other in confusion and there is an annoyed groan that escapes Hawke. 

“What the fuck?” 

RIIIIING! 

“D-did you expect anyone?” Beckett asks, letting go of Zarina. He can’t deny how miffed he is about this. Especially when Hawke denies any possibility with a shake of her head. 

“No,” she frowns, eyebrows furrowed as she looks back at Warrick and away. 

It was just getting good! They were both at the peak of their want, ready to do something more but now this moment was thoroughly broken apart. Beckett touches Zarina’s arm, worried expression crossing over his face despite the heat that still didn’t leave his body and his face. 

This is creepy. Whoever just rang the doorbell must either think they’re so fucking funny or it was a malfunction, but… 

RIIIIIIIING! 

“I’m going to check,” Zarina huffs as she gets up, whining softly when she loses the warmth of Beckett’s body next to her. He does the same, already missing her presence but also getting ready to get up before she gestures for him to stay. “Sorry, Beckett, but you can’t go meet anyone at the door in the state you are in.” 

She gives him a once over, glancing down for a second before looking up. 

“W-wha, I, you shouldn’t go alone!” For a moment, Warrick curses male anatomy and the obvious hard on he’s having right now after this makeout. But his worry outweighs the subtle embarrassment before Hawke walks over to see if she can see who was ringing the doorbell from where they were. 

As she peaks over, she notices a car standing outside. A familiar car. A very fucking familiar car. 

“Those fucking gremlins,” she suddenly seethes, surprising Beckett when she storms past him, grabbing her robe on her way down. “I’ll murder them.”

“Zarina?!” 

“Stay there! I need to give those dipshits a piece of my fucking mind.” 

Seconds later, Beckett can hear loud screams of both young boys and Hawke cursing the living hell out of them. Seems like the culprits were some high school kids who were too fucking dumb to do anything but try to ring doorbells so close to night. 

Warrick sighs, frustrated and annoyed at the ruined moment, hiding his face in his hands. It was going so well, so damn well as he imagined and hoped to make it better for her. The expression on Zarina’s face, her voice, her body moving against his. What would’ve happened if the ring didn’t happen? 

Would they…? 

Fuck, he’s getting angry thinking about the interrupted moment now. As he looks down at himself, Beckett groans. 

Time to take a shower and take care of this himself. He can’t ask for anything more, especially with the moment ruined. He already hears Zarina loudly cursing the kids out, scolding them for acting like utter dipshits. 

Next time, they both think, next time for sure.