#also can we just appreciate that every bear is a slightly different shade if you look at all the pink ones or all the blue ones etc

[heckyeahponyscans]

Just saw this image on a Taobao listing. Looks like the Chinese Care Bears keychain set is about to expand significantly! (Twenty of these bears were already available and there are twenty new ones in the pic.)

[pars-ley]

Try again

Pairing: Hoseok x Female reader

Summary: When your job lands you at one of the most famous Fashion shows in Paris, the last thing you expect is to run into an ex - the current most sought after model in the industry.

Genre: Exes to lovers / Smut / Fluff

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Warnings: Model Hoseok / Dior Hoseok / Unprotected sex (you know the dealio, wrap it when you tap it) / Ever so slight exhibitionism / Nipple play /

Word Count: 2.3k

Beta: @birbdae​ thank you for looking over it twice because I’m so extra (sorry) and thank you for all your help.

Notes: This is for my secret santa project with @thebtswritersclub​ for @yutasgalaxy​ really hope you enjoy! And I also used my square “Jung Hoseok” from my summer bingo card for the @bangtanwritingbingo​ event.

Taglist: @mwitsmejk​ @vantxx95​

The lights go dim and excitement blossoms like spring in your stomach as your eyes remain trained on the runway. Phone at the ready to take notes for this month's fashion article you are in charge of. 

The first model comes out and cameras flash wildly, illuminating the outfit. You scribble away rapidly recounting everything to write up later.

Dior's highly anticipated fashion show, one you had been eagerly counting down the days till. Flying out to Paris was the perfect opportunity for you to mark one destination off your travel list and you have not been disappointed at all. From the architecture to the food, you are undeniably impressed and living one of your ultimate dreams.

It's time for the most awaited outfit yet, everyone was on the edge of their seat poised. You look over at your photographer, he's in position and eager, looking ready to spring.

The lighting and music changes and out walks the model all in black. That's all the detail you notice as your heart stutters and stomach flips as your eyes shift rapidly to his face. 

Jung Hoseok. How did you not know he would be here? 

The cameras flash even more wildly, every photographer wanting to get the best pic of the most sought after model on this runway. Your hand however hovers over your phone, unable to scribble away like you were previously, too distracted by his general presence.

Swallowing the panic you feel rising into your throat you glance at your photographer, his eyes are already on you, pity creasing his brow but a message in his eyes that says "Focus on your job and get it together."

You take a deep breath and compose yourself, making notes on the outfit and nothing more. As soon as your eyes hit the harness stretched across his broad chest however, your legs squeeze together tightly, as not only do previous nights of passion flicker behind your eyelids but the temptation for one last night with him is almost too great to bear.

As you watch him strut down the runway, face impassive and professional, your heart pulls in a thousand directions. Memories of the few years spent together cloud your mind, taking you to another lifetime when he was yours and you were his - before fame, before everything.

You pinch the bridge of your nose hard, willing yourself to focus as you type wildly away on your phone, trying to stay focused.

The show ends a short while after your blast from the past's appearance and all you can think of is getting as far away from him as fast as you can. Before all your hard work of burying your feelings in an attempt to get over him is ruined by your self restraint.

As you head for the exit, a hand lightly grabs your arm. Turning you see a pretty young woman, a badge around her neck and a kind smile on her face, handing you an envelope.

"It's from Hoseok. He asked if I could make sure you get it." She said next to your ear so you could hear over the chatter of the other attendees.

You nod and mechanically take it. She's off through the crowd before you even get a chance to say thank you.

You head to the exit in a daze, clutching the envelope like it holds the answers to life's questions. As soon as you're out in the cool evening air you take yourself off around the corner of the building away from the scattering crowds. Your fingers fumble as you frantically rip at the envelope and open the piece of paper inside, instantly recognising his elegant hand.

Many love letters he would write to you with poetic words scrawled across the page, each sentence a meaningful lyric coming alive as your eyes danced across them with a barrier of tears waiting to fall. Those words tucked away in a box hidden deep in your wardrobe for those moments you wish to relive how he once felt about you.

You read and re-read the note, double checking the words are correct.

"I saw you as you came in, I always had the ability to find you in a crowded room and apparently that hasn't changed. 

I can't believe you're here. Please. Please, meet me at Guy Savoy at 7 o'clock tonight. I would love to see you and speak to you properly. I will book a table under my name. I really hope you show, you have no idea how much I've missed you."

That last line did things to your insides you weren't expecting. Your chest felt full and ready to burst open, love bleeding out of a fresh cut. Maybe you should just go back to your hotel and order room service, or go out for dinner with your photographer seeing as you were both here alone.

But you knew, even as you thought it, you knew you couldn't. You knew you had no intention of doing either. 

Folding up the note and shoving it in your pocket and went in search of your colleague to tell him you wouldn't be travelling back to the hotel with him. He wished you luck, even if there was a hint of apprehension in his tone, you ignored it and took a cab to the restaurant.

Sitting there waiting, your nerves were at their peak. You had chewed the skin along your fingernails until they were sore and you had now resorted to folding your napkin to make different origami shapes. Just as you didn't think your heart could take anymore, you picked up your bag but as you were about to stand and run away, you saw him. Walking towards you, shades on and the most familiar beaming grin that had always made your stomach flip. You couldn't help the pull of your lips, mirroring the same smile he wore.

He breezed up to you and wrapped you in his muscular arms, like a whirlwind his scent intoxicated you and jumbled your mind even further.

"You are a serious sight for sore eyes." he whispers in your ear before pulling away and pushing in your chair as you sit down in a daze.

"You're around gorgeous models all day, I doubt that." you reply, attempting to hide your blush.

He removes his shades and places them on the table, before pushing his fingers roughly through his hair. "Believe me, it’s not as glamorous as people think.”

There’s an awkward silence that falls on your table, with sly, shy glances from you both. 

“How’s it been? Your career I mean.” you blurt out, desperately trying to ease some tension.

He leans back in his chair and shrugs. “I can’t complain, at all. It’s going better than I could have dreamed.”

You nod, taking in how nonchalant he’s being. “I have to admit, I’ve been keeping track.”

“Of me?” he asks, shocked.

“Your career.”

“Really? I’m flattered.” his lips stretch into a toothy grin as a faint scarlet hue spreads across his cheeks.

“You should be very proud of yourself. You’ve accomplished so much, there’s no limit on how far you can go.” you find yourself saying all of this without meaning to.

He covers his face with his hands. “Ok, I appreciate this, really, coming from you this means so much, but I am more interested to hear about you.” he leans forward and places a hand on top of yours, the action causing your heart to soar. “What’s been happening with you? Are you still in the apartment?”

You nod as you take a sip of the champagne the waiter is pouring. “Yep, can’t bear to leave it, I love it there so much, a lot of memories too.” you add sneakily trying to gage his reaction.

His eyes soften. “Yes, we made a lot there.” his fingers entwine in yours, a movement far too comfortable for how long it’s been. "I miss it," he looks into your eyes so fiercely you're slightly taken aback. "I miss us."

Your heart inflates excitedly in your chest as butterflies swarm inside your stomach. But is this a good idea to rekindle an old flame, maybe there was a reason it was extinguished in the first place.

He senses your hesitation. "Are you with anyone?"

You shake your head. "No, I've dated but nothing serious. What about you?"

He laughs a bitter sound. "Same. I've not found anyone that could match up to you."

You hesitate again. "Hoseok…"

"Listen," he puts a hand up quietening you. "I know it was mostly me who instigated us breaking up in the first place but that is my biggest regret. I never should have let you go." he bites back the emotion in his words and swallows.

"But if you hadn't you wouldn't be where you are today." you add, squeezing his hand still clutching yours.

He makes a disgusted noise at the back of his throat. "I left my dream girl to follow my dreams and let me tell you, it wasn't worth it. If someone asked me to choose, it would be you. every. single. time."

He grabs your chair and slides it along closer to him. He reaches out to cup your face. "Please, let me come back." 

His plea does not fall on deaf ears. Your heart knows the decision it's made but you can't form the words to speak. Your libido overtakes the moment and you grab him by the collar of his shirt and crush your lips against his. The taste of him is so familiar and yet new at the same time. Sweet like butter as your mouths melt together as one. His arm around your waist almost pulling you off your chair makes you break away and giggle. The heat in his eyes is almost overwhelming, all your thoughts are no longer in your head but in your groin. He looks so good staring at you like that, like you are the reason for living, how could you not give into him?

"Come back to my hotel?" you whisper urgently.

He nods, throws some cash down for your ordered drinks, takes your hand and pulls you out through the restaurant. You jog along to keep up with his long legged stride. He flags down a cab and you're into it and moving off swiftly while his hands find you again. They roam your body, finding their way under your shirt and to your nipples. He rolls them gently between his fingers as his lips attach themselves to your neck.

His hand glides slowly along your thigh, up your skirt and just when he's about to reach the most desired area the cab stops abruptly, letting you know you've arrived. You groan with frustration but jump out, pulling him into your hotel and leading him up to the room. Your heart pounding so loud in your ears you can't think of anything, nothing but the taste of his lips or the feel of his skin under your fingertips and god, did you want to feel more. 

As soon as your door is unlocked you're on each other. Clothes can't come off fast enough and as they leave a messy path like a trail of breadcrumbs leading towards the bed. 

"God, I have missed you." he says as he glances down at your body before pulling you flush against him.

There's no time for sly touches or exploring, you're both too desperate to feel each other.

Your bare, naked flesh moulds easily together as he enters you, both of your moans echo out across the room. The feeling euphoric as it's what you know and yet what you are no longer used to. He moves inside you with a persistent, desperate rhythm as his hips wind in the most perfect way, hitting that sensitive spot every time and making your toes curl in consequence.

He looks down at you, a soft, determined gaze and says breathlessly, "I love you."

His words are your undoing, as you remember the sweet nothings he used to whisper to you while you were making love before. You unravel around him, blinded by pleasure as your back arches underneath him. He's quick to follow you as you feel his warm seed spilling inside you and you watch his face twist in pleasure, his eyes never leaving yours. The moment, so intense, almost too intense you had to look away.

Both of you breathless and riding on your high, lay back on the bed staring up at the ceiling. A thousand thoughts race through your mind as you panic that you've just made a huge mistake. What if his words weren't genuine? What if he leaves...again? What will you do then? You'll have to start over, all your hard work of pushing him aside.

Almost as if he can sense your rising doubt, his fingers entwine with yours, as he turns onto his side to face you, gently twirling a strand of your hair between his digits.

He watches you closely as if searching your thoughts, your eyes so open and vulnerable - letting him right in, wanting him to silence your fears.

He strokes your face and kisses you so softly your lips melt right into him. You want this. You want him. 

"Hey, I'm serious," he leans back, eyes burning into yours. "I want to come home to you. I want our life back, I want you, always."

Your panicking heart is soothed by his words and you relax and lean into his touch, your limbs softening against him.

"Please, can I have another chance?" he asks, so vulnerable and sincere any doubts are washed away in an instant.

"Let's give it a try." you reply.

He almost blinds you with his sunshine smile as he pulls you against him, his lips dancing happily with yours. And you lose yourself in him completely. You are his, utterly and completely. 

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Umbrae Secrets [繁荫秘语] Date Translation (END 2 + 3 + 4: Call Out)

“This is such a remote area. Were I to do anything, it would be nothing more than a piece of cake.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 6✩ Inspiration has 8 Endings!! *Reblogs and likes appreciated! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution *T/N: This card takes me out so quick I needed time to recover. Hunter and prey... MC triggered the Hunter... 

After pondering for a while, I finally decided to…

✥ Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

⊹ Ask Evan for his opinion ⊹

MC: Any bright ideas, Evan?

Evan: I'm thinking that maybe we can find a place to set up camp early…

Evan: Because you seem very eager to camp out.

MC: You got me. Let's go with that then!

❖☆———————————★❖

Evan was very experienced when it came to selecting a suitable campsite.

Eventually, we managed to find a fitting flat and cosy patch of grass that was both leeward and shaded, with a source of water nearby.

By the time we finished setting up the tent, the sky had already gradually darkened. The temperature of the forest quietly dropped as the occluding darkness surrounded us. But I had Evan with me, so there was no need to fear.

We lit the camp stove and roasted some food. The flickering firelight became the most dazzling thing in the forest, casting dancing shadows and lights all around. There was a certain romance to it.

For a moment, all I could hear was the crackling of fire and the soft chips and buzz of the insects nearby. It felt as if even time had come to a standstill.

❖☆———————————★❖

I inadvertently raised my head. The night sky above was adorned with stars, like fine scattered gemstones sewn onto an expanse of black velvet. Each and every one of them was equally lustrous, converging into a glimmering band of light and extending into the distance.

I watched the sky in a trance while lying on the grass. Evan sat quietly beside me

After a while, I tugged on his sleeve.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Look, the light of the stars only becomes much more apparent once all the lights have been extinguished.

MC: The grass smells good too, so why don’t you try lying down too?

He looked down at me with a smile and contemplated the idea. He finally agreed after a moment of hesitation.

Evan: Alright.

❖☆———————————★❖

He moved closer and laid down beside me. Now, another rhythm sounded in my ears: his gentle and steady breathing.

Evan: It is very beautiful.

MC: I feel like it's been a long time since I last saw a starry sky like this.

MC: No wonder those philosophers always liked looking up at the stars when they think. Now I understand why they would.

MC: The sight of an area this vast can make people forget all trivialities and let their thoughts wander further to the past and even the future.

Evan: So where has your mind flown off to now?

MC: Me? I’m thinking that since the forest is so beautiful, maybe I’ll go live in the forest next time, aha.

Then, a curious thought popped into my head.

MC: Right, Evan. Have you ever thought about where you’d like to live after having fulfilled all your goals?

❖☆———————————★❖

I waited for a long time, but Evan never replied.

Did he fall asleep?

I decided to gently call out to him…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E2: If you fail to call him ⊹

I’d called out to him multiple times in a row before he finally turned his head, looking slightly out of it.

Evan: Are you calling me? Sorry, I spaced out.

MC: Oh, no worries.

Evan smiled at me but didn’t say anything more.

Some people are made of mysteries. Perhaps this was simply a question he didn’t wish to answer now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E3: If you call him EVAN (陆沉) ⊹

Evan instantly snapped back to attention upon hearing me call out to him. He smiled apologetically.

Evan: Sorry. Your question's a little hard to answer. I lost track of myself thinking it through.

MC: Huh? Have you never imagined such things?

Evan: Hmm. That might be because the matters I always have on hand are more important, so I tend to focus all my attention on them.

MC: Right… I've been there and done that too.

MC: Back when I was schooling, I often found studying to be very dry and stressful.

MC: But, whenever I found myself unable to bear it anymore, I would fantasize about Summer Vacation and draw new motivation from it.

MC: Whenever I felt down or life got hard, I’d always dream about how much better life would be after I achieved my goals.

MC: Maybe you could think about it this way too?

Evan: After fulfilling my goal?

Evan: After that… I think nothing matters after that anymore.

His last sentence was so soft that it sounded as if he was mumbling to himself, and I wasn’t too sure if I’d actually heard him.

I turned to him in question, but he never answered, keeping so silent that it was almost as if he was one with the very ground.

I was starting to feel a little inexplicably worried when he then opened his mouth, as if the prior silence had never existed.

Evan: How about you tell me about it first? What’s your ideal life like? Maybe it’ll nudge me in the right direction.

MC: Hmm… Sometimes, I like lively Cities.

MC: But other times, I like someplace quiet; somewhere with mountains and water… I think that’s a pretty good place to live too...

MC: But there's no wifi there and I can’t eat my favourite ice cream… It’s a real pickle.

Evan: Perhaps what you like is change itself.

MC: Yeah… But some things will never change!

MC: Like, how I don't want to be too far from everyone.

MC: Without the people to share interesting things and breathtaking sceneries with, it'll certainly take the fun out of things.

His low chuckle sounded near my ear, close at hand.

Evan: I now know where I'd like to live next time.

MC: Where?

Evan: Somewhere not too far away from you. Would you welcome that?

MC: Of course I do. But, aren't you already here by me?

He turned his head over, watching me with a serious look as the light flickered at the bottom of his eyes.

My arm moved, inadvertently brushing against his cool skin, but also not shying away from it. He flipped his palm and encased my fingers within them.

Evan: You are correct.

Evan: To me, right now, life is perfectly fine as it is.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

⊹ E4: If you call him HUBBY (老公) ⊹

Evan shot me a slightly surprised look. Suddenly, the realization of what I'd just done washed over me.

Then, he shifted closer to me; so close that I didn't even dare turn my head.

Evan: Are you trying to hint at something by suddenly addressing me in this manner?

Evan: This is such a remote area. Were I to do anything, it would be nothing more than a piece of cake.

I inwardly froze. Evan was different from usual today… His warm breath brushed past my ear, inciting a continuous yet faint ticklish sensation.

MC: Hahaha… You wouldn't...

Evan: And why are you so sure that I wouldn't?

MC: You're always mindful and courteous. You aren't… that sort of person.

Evan: "That sort of person"? What sort of person?

He lifted his head in interest, looking down at me in a condescending manner. I was so embarrassed that I couldn't even get a sentence out right as the temperature of my cheeks rapidly shot up.

MC: That… That sort… Evan, stop making fun of me like that…

He narrowed his eyes into a smile, suddenly flipping himself over and balancing himself above me!

Rationally speaking, I knew deep down just what sort of person he was, but my body still ran on instinct: It sensed danger.

His broad form, usually reassuring, looked immeasurably intimidating from this angle. I couldn't help but bite my lip as my heart sped off the charts.

MC: Evan, what are you… doing…?

Evan: I'm thinking about your question.

Evan: You asked me what sort of place I'd like to live at, correct?

MC: Then… what does this have anything to do with that?

Evan: I feel like your eyes might hold the answer I seek.

MC: That's a lie and you know it…

My voice grew softer and softer because Evan was slowly lowering himself down.

Watching those dark red eyes of his that hid a glimpse of a smirk in its depths gradually draw closer, I panicked, stiffening up as my mind went completely blank...

I frantically swiped his glasses from the bridge of his nose, turning over to keep them away from him.

MC: Any more, and no glasses for you!

Evan paused, a little stunned at the sudden loss of his glasses. He then moved away with a smile, lying back down on the grass.

Evan: Did I scare you? I apologize. I just wanted to poke fun at you.

Evan: Sometimes you’ll bite off more than you can handle when you think someone too simple.

I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief before angrily puffing out my cheek.

MC: Okay, okay, you’re not simple! Even more so to keep your glasses away from you!

Evan: Then I’d better stick close to you and let you lead me around. Will that be alright?

Evan: Hm? (Y/n).

I turned my back on him and felt him gently place a hand on my shoulder. The heat swiftly passed through the thin fabric of my clothes, making me unwittingly shudder at the warmth.

I could even feel his eyes digging into me. The area where he burned holes into me with his eyes was hot, the grass underneath me was no different, and neither were the glasses I held in my hands.

I couldn’t form the words to answer him; all I could do was to hope that he couldn’t hear how fast my heart was racing.

❖☆———————————★❖

The next day, early morning. I woke up to the melodious singing of birds.

Evan was already awake, neatly dressed and sitting on the folded chair at the entrance, sipping on a cup of coffee.

Evan: Good morning. Sleep well last night?

MC: Brilliantly! I was so tired from walking so long yesterday that I fell asleep the moment my head met the pillow.

MC: Oh, right. It’ll take quite a long time to go back where we came, so let’s eat something, pack up, and leave as soon as possible!

Evan set his cup of coffee down,

Evan: Aren’t you forgetting something?

MC: Huh?

Evan: I recall you wanting to see bamboo piths, but we have yet to see any.

I froze, awkwardly laughing it off

That had originally been an excuse to get him outside and I’d totally forgotten about it.

MC: Hehe. I’m not that adamant about seeing bamboo piths.

MC: I only said that back then as an excuse to get you out so that you can relax.

MC: I heard that you had things rather rough before that so I was a little worried about you.

He looked slightly surprised. Then, he lowered his eyes, a warm smile catching onto the sides of his mouth.

Evan: So it was because of me.

Evan: Thank you for accompanying me here. I’m certainly much more relaxed now.

MC: But considering how you were previously… Are you really okay?

Evan: Yes. It’s probably not as bad as you’re thinking. I was just thinking about some old people and old things and felt a little glum about it.

Evan: I never thought that I’d end up alarming others.

MC: Why am I “others” now?

MC: Don’t bottle your troubles up to solve them yourself. You need to remember to share them with people close to you as well!

Evan: Okay. I will keep that in mind.

I still didn’t know what he was troubled by, but I suppose this was still within my expectations.

From my impression of him, he has always been strong. It was almost as if he was shouldering a mission that no one knew about, walking down a similarly obscured path.

After finishing breakfast, we packed and prepared to leave the forest.

We idly chatted with each other along the way until suddenly, Evan stopped short while we were passing through an area.

Following his gaze, I saw a unique-looking umbrella-shaped thing growing within the shrubbery’s shade.

Evan: See? We still managed to chance upon it.

MC: Wow, are all of these bamboo piths?

We walked over together, squatting beside the small white fungi.

It had a small black cap and had grown out a long white mesh skirt.

This was the first time I ever saw a bamboo pith growing in the soil. I widened my eyes in surprise, unwilling to blink as I drank in the sight. After observing it for a while, I finally raised a finger, reaching out to touch its “skirt”.

MC: It’s so wet and soft-looking! It’s adorable! Have you seen it before, Evan?

MC: I can’t believe you managed to recognize it at a glance!

Evan: Yes. It was back during the first time I’d been driven into the forest as a child.

Evan: I witnessed the law of the jungle and escaped from the jaws of death of a snake. I felt like the forest was a place filled with danger and wanted nothing but to leave the place the faster, the better.

Evan: Then, just as I was hungry and exhausted, I saw a bamboo pith.

Evan: At that time, I didn’t know what it was and if it was actually poisonous.

Evan: Deep in the throes of despair, I thought “why not just take it, eat it, and see what my fate turns out to be”?

MC: Evan…

Evan: But guess what I saw while I was hesitating?

Evan: I saw it growing its fungus skirt. All it took was a little effort on its part, and its little skirt grew longer and longer.

Evan: I stared at it blankly, in a daze. I didn’t even notice that my legs had gone numb from how long I’d stared at it.

He retracted himself from his memory palace, turning around to face me with a smile.

Evan: It was as simple as a little young lady, capable of encouraging me with its adorability and enchantments.

Evan: It made me understand that forest, in all its gloom and doom, still has its own little interesting spots.

Evan: And that one is only capable of seeing it by living on, don’t you think?

His expression was quiet, but within those calm eyes of his, I could see that little boy who’d struggled his hardest to remain strong. I felt my heart constrict slightly at that and moved to hold his hand tightly in my own.

MC: Evan, that’s all in the past. You’re no longer that helpless little boy.

Evan: No, I’m fine.

Evan: I might have forgotten even this if we hadn’t seen the bamboo piths today.

Evan: It feels a little unbelievable when I think back on it now. It was a memory plagued by darkness, yet it still held its own beautiful moments.

I felt a pang of sorrow creep into my heart. Words of comfort were right at the tip of my tongue, yet I felt like they’d be completely helpless.

This man before me, strong as a warrior; someone who’d been forced to face life-or-death decisions from a very young age… Maybe he wasn’t as complicated as I initially thought he was.

There are many reasons why one would choose death, but to choose life? The reason was simple; just a little spark was required, and Evan was no exception.

MC: I forgot who said it, but someone once said that the meaning of existence that people spend their entire lives seeking out is actually hidden in the simple things.

MC: Evan, won’t you say that you might end up thinking similarly as well one day?

MC: You might not be able to find it immediately, but that’s fine. I will accompany you in your search for it, no matter how long it takes.

Evan fixed me with a profound look before stretching out his hand and reverently crossing it over my own.

Evan: Alright. Together we shall be.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 4 + 6 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 7 + 8 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ☆Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Prologue)

[bowieandqueen11]

Walls / Dan Torrance Imagine

Request: So, I absolutely love your Dan Torrance imagines! I also love Doctor Sleep as well! Could I request an imagine where the reader (her name is Rebecca, by the way!) and Dan are married. Dan is worried that his beloved will be harmed by the ghosts of Dan's past and he will protect her at all costs. Dan also survives the whole ordeal! Make it as long as you can and feel free to change anything if you need to! 💙 

This is for my wonderful friend @thebeckyjolene, I really hope you’re doing well today darling!

I tried to do a bit of a different writing style with this one, so if you enjoyed, comments are always appreciated! :)

Dan Torrance didn’t remember these walls.

The building, perhaps. The lights, the furniture, the shadows that flickered in the corner of his eyes as he turned and twisted round the wall’s corners: yes. The walls themselves, though, seem distorted. Changed. Taunting. 

Or perhaps, he realised, it was all a matter of perspective. All a matter of eyes. He wasn’t sure whose eyes he was looking through right at the moment: he was just a little, insignificant squeak in the back of his head. How ironic, he thought. How ironic that all these years I’ve locked them up, safe and tight in these boxes, and yet now I’m the one trapped inside my mind instead. With each passing face, the walls that wound towards Room 237 seemed to shift, the decorations sometimes vibrant, outmoded, the next second the wallpaper crumbling and peeling and decaying, splattered with blood. 

He knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. Each stamp of his boots along the tile seemed to drag him just that little bit further into the belly of the beast - each pound echoing across the ground suckering him just that little bit more, until he began wondering where his shoes ended and the floors of the Overlook began. 

The floor. The floor. That he remembered. That grotesque, repugnant shade of orange that cornered in the red hexagons. How long he had spent away from the company of his parents, staring at that floor and wishing he could just go home. The days when his feet would barely touch it, and he would fly, knowing in his heart that he was trying to escape something. The ghosts, or his father, he wasn’t still entirely sure. Perhaps, in the end, there was no difference really. He swallowed thickly, passing the elevator that gleamed white in comparison, still as fresh looking as the day he had arrived here. Despite his face, he still couldn’t bring himself to look at it properly, trying to hold his shudder as he drew himself back from the hotel and bumped his knee against one of the cushioned seats he had seen in his nightmares every night since he was five years old.

He never thought he would hear your feet run across these same floors, speeding along the path his tricycle used to take down the looping corridors, both filled with the same unknown, foreboding dread that they weren’t going to like the shadows that appeared behind them as they turned the corner. They weren’t going to like the consequences of opening doors, of wakening ghosts that were only too riled up to be disturbed. Yet neither of you could help it, the hotel knew only too well how to draw its victims in. He managed to strangle out a sob at the thought, his gut wrenching cries the only thing to be heard in the hallway as his hand pulled and grasped at his jacket, trying to pull himself back. His wife, the light of his life, the only thing in this world he couldn’t bear, wouldn’t allow to have torn away from him again. The Overlook only laughed at his threats, his grievances, whispering in his ear that it was his turn to be the caretaker now.

She must take her medicine, after all. Just like the rest. Rebecca must take her medicine.

And so the door to Room 237 swung shut for the second time that day. In rhythm with the hinges, the beat of an axe hammered against its wood as it closed.

‘Rebecca...Rebecca you need to run. I can’t- I can’t hold them off for much longer. I can’t... I can’t hurt you... I can’t do it.’

The sight of you standing on that mouldy purple carpet was enough to bring tears springing to Danny’s eyes. With the last mount of energy, and desperation he could muster, he forced every cell in his body to stop moving. Slowly, yet surely, his knees still bent and he took a further step towards you, axe now dragging familiarly along the ground. 

‘I won’t leave you to the same fate as your father, Danny. This isn’t you, this isn’t us.’

Your husband, his face paling with each step towards you, sneers, lips unnaturally curling up at the corners. He readies to swing his axe, thumbs tight against the wood, but his hands slightly falter just as it reaches his shoulder.

‘What would you know about us?’

You reach up towards him - your Danny, your husband. You could see him struggling, little beads of perspiration on his forehead, and eyes scrunching closed in absolute agony. Your fingers land on his cheek, and you can feel the muscle ripple under your touch, but in all the exertion you don’t miss the slight tilt of his head towards your touch. 

‘I know you’re a false face, and that you don’t understand who you’re pretending to be. I know my husband, and he’s strong, and he’s brilliant, and he’s so unbelievably kind. He could never hurt me-’. you reach over his shoulder to tug on his left hand, not letting go until your hand brushed over his wedding ring. His ring finger shook against yours, face seeming to blur and melt against and within itself like new snow. Yet, his hold on his axe began to slip, until it finally fell onto the floor. ‘More than that, he’s smarter than you will ever be.’

‘What- what do you mean?’

‘You, false face, had better start running. It’s only a matter of time before the belly of this place eats you up as well.’

Something akin to familiarity begins to brighten his eyes, and your sense of hope flickers again in your stomach as you feel his fingers twitch against yours. Suddenly, he seems to shake himself awake, gasping as if awakening from a horrible dream. He nearly falls away from you, but your thumb digs into his skin until he collapses back down onto your shoulders. You can feel him shiver as he holds you, but you don’t let go. You knew the strength it had taken him to chase away his ghosts, to keep you safe from everything within himself, and the only way you could think to return the favour was by letting him clutch onto your jacket until his breathing had settled.

‘There you are’, you whisper into the shell of his ear. ‘There you are.’

‘I’m sorry Rebecca’, he gasps out, pulling away until you can see how quickly his eyes are blinking to draw away the tears. He half-laughs, half-sighs as his weary fingers cup your cheeks, rubbing little circles into your skin. ‘It was the only way I knew I could keep them from getting to you. I was... I was just afraid. I was so afraid they would get you too.’

You inhaled sharply, tugging slowly on his fingers as if asking him silently to follow you. To trust you. And he did, with all his heart, he did. He would wander these walls for the rest of his life if you had asked him too.

Instead, you try to smile up at him, but it ends up looking like a pained grimace more than anything. ‘It’s alright, it’s alright, but we need to go now Danny. We need to run.’

He felt a pang in his heart, knowing that nothing in this black hole of a place would ever let him leave. Not really. It had consumed his father, it had consumed him, and he would be damned if he was going to let it take his wife without him giving a proper fight. Without him giving every last piece of himself he had to give, until he knew you had escaped.  

‘But the boiler-’

‘It’s already taken care of. You mumble so much in your sleep about this place, I think I could switch them on with my eyes closed’, you chuckle.

‘Come on, it’s time we finally leave these walls to smoulder.’

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @saraben00 @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane

~^~

Saturday, 19:08

Song: Mark Diamond - Monster

Lucas checks the messages again as he walks, just to make sure he didn’t imagine anything. But it’s all there. Jens inviting him to go trick or treating with him and his little sister, with the condition that he has to wear his costume once more, complete with a winky face.

So, naturally, Lucas is skating to Jens’s house in his full princely form.

He’d thought it was a weird offer, at first, though he has come to understand that it’s more of a request. Robbe usually goes with him, Jens says, but he wants to spend the night with Sander and Jens refuses to complain about that, this time. Lucas is honestly honored to even be his second choice, especially when it seems to be a tradition.

Plus, he’d never pass up an opportunity to see Jens.

He’s given up denying it to himself. It seems to have gotten easier, now that it feels slightly out in the open. Noor had placed it under the light and made it impossible to ignore. He’d thought it would terrify him more, but he still only feels relieved.

He is also very confused, and a little anxious, because he definitely can’t be imagining what happened after. He didn’t imagine Jens staring at him at the party, and he didn’t imagine how they’d almost kissed.

He refuses to believe he misinterpreted it. Jens is the one who started to lean in first. Jens was going to kiss him. Jens had wanted to kiss him.

At least, this is what Lucas desperately wants to believe.

The hope has been blossoming there since they’d met, the irritational little sprout of hope, telling him that this time he may be in with a real chance. Telling him that the signs he’s been seeing are real, that every time Jens’s gaze or touch lingers, that every time he smiles extra wide or laughs extra loud, it’s not just Lucas’s head playing tricks. It’s real. It means something. He’s not imagining it. His own interest might not be for nothing. His feelings don’t have to be ignored. He’s not setting himself up to be torn down.

He also thinks he’s stuck up in the clouds and treading a very thin, dangerous line.

As he makes it back to Jens’s street for the second time in twenty-four hours, he reminds himself that now isn’t the time to think about it.

Jens is already stood outside, back in his skeleton costume and gesturing dramatically through the door at someone Lucas can’t see. Lucas slows to a stop a few houses down, planting his foot on the pavement and kicking up his board. The sound is enough to alert Jens to his presence, and the line of his shoulders softens as he turns to look at Lucas. Lucas smiles and offers him a wave as a little girl trudges out to meet Jens.

Lucas takes a few slow steps closer and hears Jens say, “Lucas is here, Lies, can’t keep him waiting.” He ushers the girl—his sister, clearly—out to the gate, and she follows without much protest.

Lucas’s smile grows as he watches them, almost missing the other person peeking their head out the door. “Don’t I get to meet him?”

Jens looks back and Lucas follows his gaze to see an older girl at the door, possibly older than them. He lifts his hand in another wave as she grins excitedly at him and Jens makes a sound of protest. “Nope, already late.”

Lucas snorts as they reach him. “Late for what?”

“Well, do you want to introduce yourself?” Jens raises a brow. He’s plain-faced today, foregoing the makeup he’d worn the previous night. Meaning, if Lucas touched him, he’d be met with nothing but smooth skin, soft and golden under his fingertips, warming the closer Lucas allowed himself to get.

He shakes the thought away and with it denies Jens’s offer. He looks instead at the younger girl already staring up at him, dressed as a little fairy, complete with a small set of wings sprouting from her back. She bears little resemblance to her brother, eyes and hair both a few shades lighter, but there’s something in the curve of her smile and her curious expression that makes their relation unmistakable. He asks Jens, “Are you at least going to introduce us?”

Jens sighs, as if it’s a much bigger task than a few words. “Lucas, this is Lotte. Lotte, this is your second babysitter for the night.”

Lucas rolls his eyes and then smiles at Lotte, oddly nervous as she gazes up at him.

“Jens, he’s a prince, that’s way cooler than you.”

Lucas laughs as Jens grows instantly offended, flicking her head lightly. She shies away and glares up at him. Lucas decides they’ll probably get along quite well.

“Yeah, Jens, I’m way cooler than you,” he teases, gratified at the face Jens pulls at him in response.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s super uncool to be trick-or-treating with your big brother, but who is the one who brought you the pretty prince, huh?”

Lucas blushes at the words and has to pretend he isn’t as Lotte examines him once more before shrugging in acceptance. “I don’t think princes skate though,” she wrinkles her nose.

“Cool princes do,” Jens mutters, but he takes the board from Lucas’s hands. “I’ll leave it just inside the gate so you can get it when we get back.”

Lucas watches him jog the few steps back to his house and tuck the skateboard against the front wall. In the minute he’s gone, Lucas does his best to ignore the still-stuttering beat of his heart and Lotte’s probing gaze. Maybe he should have given himself more time, before seeing Jens again, he thinks. Maybe then he would’ve had himself under better control. His blood wouldn’t be rushing so quickly to his cheeks, his head wouldn’t be spinning so much, his hands would stop shaking.

More likely, it’s his permanent condition around Jens now, and he’s fooling himself if he thinks otherwise.

Jens makes it back to them and sets a hand on Lotte’s shoulder to begin guiding her down the street, and within minutes her paper pumpkin basket is filling up with various treats. There are a few other kids running out, mostly all a little holder and in groups of at least three, but Lotte seems unbothered, skipping around on her own. Jens and Lucas follow along side by side, making up mini ghost stories inspired by the various decorations adorning the houses.

“How come you have nothing outside your house?”

Jens shrugs as Lotte runs up and eagerly rings another doorbell. “We wouldn’t have had any at all if Lies hadn’t come home. My parents don’t really think about these things.”

Lucas nods. “I didn’t think mine did, either. I’m surprised my dad put in the effort, but I think that’s what he was hoping.”

He has noticed that Jens has never asked him about his father, or his lack of any mention of his mother. He appreciates it more than he could say, this silent understanding Jens allows him. Even though he wants to tell Jens. Out of everyone, he would want to tell Jens.

He just isn’t sure he’s ready to go there. They haven’t reached that level of personal. Not quite yet.

It doesn’t stop Lucas from wanting to kiss him, though.

“Are you a fan of Halloween then?”

Lucas looks over at him with narrowed eyes. “Yeah? Aren’t you?”

Jens shrugs, smiling, and gestures to Lotte as she comes back to their side. “This is my Halloween. Are you a fan?”

“I would have preferred it if we at least got some treats ourselves,” Lucas admits.

“You can have some of mine.” Lotte suddenly looks up to him, eyes wide, the picture of innocence, and his heart melts slightly.

He shakes his head softly at her. “That’s okay, Lotte. You deserve them all. You look way cooler than me and him combined.”

It’s enough to make her beam, and she latches onto his hand to begin dragging him to the next house with her. “You should just come up with me. I know the lady who lives here. She’s nice.”

“Hey,” Jens calls from a few steps behind them. Lotte doesn’t pay him any attention. “Don’t I get offered some treats?”

“You get to hang out with your friend,” Lotte says simply.

Lucas is a little pleased when Jens doesn’t argue further. He gives Lotte’s hand a tug. “Why aren’t you trick-or-treating with your friends?”

She pouts at the street in front of her, swinging Lucas’s hand. “Mama says I’m too young and they live in a different place. But she said maybe next year.”

“Double digits,” Jens agrees, “then we’ll see.”

Lucas doesn’t go up to the next house with her, even when she turns her pout on him. But when she comes back, she does grab his hand again, only this time to place her tiny handful of sweets in it. He grins down at her, thanking her quietly, and then she’s back to beaming and skipping up to the next house.

Lucas looks at Jens and finds him gazing back softly, eyes bright and lips just slightly curved upwards. He’s still one of the prettiest people Lucas has ever seen, even in the dull glow of the darkening sky and the scattered streetlights. Lucas’s heart still takes a few beats out of rhythm.

Jens snaps his gaze away as he follows after his sister, but he walks closer to Lucas now, leaving their hands bumping every few steps. He only abandons Lucas’s side for a moment to chase after Lotte, ignoring her complaints as he crouches down to adjust one of her wings where it has folded back. He smooths down a few strands of her hair while he’s there and she finally offers him a smile, tugging at his hand now to get them moving again and still checking to make sure Lucas follows.

It’s odd for Lucas to realise there’s nowhere he’d rather be.

[lilliagradiewrites]

not like that // jj maybank (one shot)

A/N: New one shot friends!! I have been working on this for over a week and I’m so happy with how it’s turned out. It’s the longest piece I’ve ever written. I’m really proud of this, so I hope you guys like that. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated!! Also, every reblog helps. Love you guys!!

Summary: JJ Maybank has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. And, unfortunately for you, you’ve been in love with him for as long as you remember. You’ve done great at hiding your feelings, but what happens when on a drunken night, everything is revealed?

Word Count: 9.5k

Warnings: nothing worse than what's in the show!!

Contents: ANGST, lots of angst, and a bit of fluff at times :)

Let’s do it!!

--------

Another night, another heartbreak.

You knew it would happen; it always does. It’s practically expected at this point.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

It was a friday night, and all the pogues were at the boneyard. This wasn’t unusual; it was actually quite common. You had volunteered to be the designated driver. It was meant to be JJ’s turn, but you knew he’d had issues with his dad earlier in the day and needed to get fucked up. So, you told the group that you ‘didn’t feel like drinking’ and told JJ to have his fun.

The rest of the group suspected nothing, but JJ knew your purpose for volunteering. When the group had begun loading into the van, he’d grabbed your arm and pulled you aside.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. I’m fine. I won’t drink.”

“It’s okay, J. You’ve had a rough day. You need some fun tonight. I’m happy to stay sober if it means you’ll have fun and take your mind off things.”

JJ smiled slightly. “Thank you. But I don’t wanna ruin your fun. You’ve been looking forward to this all week, Y/N.”

You touched his arm lightly as a way to reassure him. “I promise you it’s okay, JJ. I’m fine with it. You need this more than I do. If it was an issue for me, I wouldn’t have volunteered.”

JJ hesitated for another moment, but eventually agreed. He thanked you again and walked with you to get in the van.

Now, you sat alone on the crowded beach, the one beer you’d been nursing all night in your hands. You’d been with your friends all night, but once they’d gotten a decent amount of alcohol in their systems, they abandoned you. Kie dragged Pope off to dance; John B left muttering something about Sarah Cameron. JJ, who felt bad for you staying sober even in his drunk state, has stayed with you a little longer. When the two of you were alone, he’d been extremely touchy. One hand on your thigh as he talked to you, shoving you playfully when you cracked a joke at him. The contact was little, but it made your stomach flutter.

JJ was your best friend, no doubt. You’d known each other since you moved to the cut in sixth grade. He had invited you to sit with him and John B at lunch, and the three of you became fast friends. You loved John B and cared about him very much, but you had a special connection with JJ. You felt a sense of comfort around him that you felt with no one else. He understood your humour, appreciated your music taste, and was the greatest listener. You went to him with all of your problems, and JJ did the same. The two of you had such a close bond, you don’t what you’d do without him.

That is exactly why you’d pushed away your feelings when they first began creeping up on you. You pushed down the butterflies, willed your cheeks to stop turning red when he looked at you. Did everything you could to stop the infatuation from growing larger. All your efforts were for nothing, though, when you realized your love from the blonde was only growing stronger the more you pushed it away. After that, you finally came to terms with your crush, but decided to keep it to yourself. If you told him, it could make things awkward, and you’d lose him altogether. You’d rather suffer in silence than lose the person you cared about most on this planet.

This crush is what caused your cheeks to ignite in redness every time you felt JJ’s hand brush against your skin. You became more and more flustered as he subtly flirted with you in every way, praying that you it was too dark for him to notice the deep red shade your face had become. He said something extremely flirty, and began leaning into you.

Your brain exploded with a million thoughts and emotions.

He’s gonna kiss me!

Holy shit what do I do?

Does he actually like me back?

What if it’s just because he’s drunk?

What happens if he doesn’t remember this in the morning?

Despite the storm that was raging in your head, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in towards him. Your lips were inches apart, and your dreams were moments from coming true.

Until JJ, in his drunken state, spilled his drink all down the side of his leg. He pulled back, cursing. The boy informed you he was going to refill his drink and find something to wipe his leg off with, and he was gone.

You sat there and watched him walk away, taking your hopes of something ever happening between the two of you with him.

You’d waited for him to come back for about half an hour before going to look for him. He’d told you he’d come back once he was done, and JJ always kept his promises to you. So, when he didn’t return quickly, you were worried.

As soon as you saw him, however, you were regretting getting up off your seat. About twenty feet from the keg was JJ, talking to some pretty redhead about something you couldn’t hear. The girl, who was clearly just as wasted as your friend, was hanging on his arm, listening intently to every word he said. Her face showed interest in the conversation, but her blue eyes were filled with lust. You could tell that all she wanted was to get JJ alone.

And, judging by the way he was moving her hair from face, JJ had the same thoughts as the girl.

Not being able to watch anymore, you’d turned and walked quickly away. You found a tree, a decent way away from the party, and sat on the sand, leaning your back against the wood. It wasn’t until you were in this position that you let the tears fall from your eyes.

How could you have been so stupid? How could JJ ever want you like that? You were his best friend, practically his sister. He was only flirting because he was drunk.

Truly not in the mood to drink anymore, you throw your red solo cup across the sand. You know that Kie would kill you if she found out you’d left plastic on the beach, but you couldn’t care less. As the cup landed on it’s side, the beer spilled out onto the sand. You thought the cup looked almost as empty as you felt. You reached for your phone, thinking you could scroll through tiktok as a way to keep your mind off things and pass time, but stopped yourself. Your wallpaper was a photo of you and JJ, and you couldn’t bear to look at his face right now.

So, you opted to just observe the party instead. You could still see your friends, but they were all in different positions now. Kiara and Pope had met a touron couple and were having a conversation with them. John B and Sarah now sat in the exact seats you and JJ had previously occupied. JJ and the redhead were dancing. Her hands were on his shoulders; his on her waist. They moved to the beat of the music, getting slowly closer and closer to each other. When the song ended, JJ pulled the girl in and leaned down so his mouth was at her ear. The boy whispered something, and you watched as the girl bit her lip and nodded.

You didn’t hear what he said, but you didn’t need to. The girl grabbed JJ by his arm and led him away until they were out of sight. A few moments later, you hear a ding from your back pocket.

You reluctantly pull your phone out, and sigh when you read the message notification from JJ.

BSF!: dont worry about me, going home with a friend. Be at the chateau in the morning. See u.

A teardrop fell on your phone screen as you read the message. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been crying. Deciding that you couldn’t bear to stay any longer, you stood, took a deep breath, and walked to where Kie and Pope stood.

You talked as soon as you got to them, not caring if you interrupted their conversation.

“Hey, guys, can we go? I don’t want to cut anyone’s night short but I’m not feeling very well.”

Kie was very understanding. The girl was so caring, even when wasted. “Yeah, of course. Come on, Pope.” The two said goodbye to their newfound friends, then followed you away. When you told John B you were leaving, Sarah offered to drive him home later so he wouldn’t have to leave. He asked if that was okay with you, and of course you agreed. Just because your night was shitty doesn’t mean everyone else’s has to be.

You turned to Pope and Kie, realizing it wasn’t fair to ask them to leave if they were having fun. “I can come back later and pick you guys up if you want to stay. I don’t mind.”

Kie was quick to protest, until their two new friends came up and offered to take them home later. The girl hadn’t been drinking. Kie asked if you were okay to be alone, still worried.

Once you’d assured her that you were, she gave you a hug, telling you to drive safe and text her when you got back to the chateau. You agreed, said goodbye to Pope and the nice couple, and were on your way.

You drove home in complete silence. Normally, you’d be blasting music, but you knew you couldn’t bring yourself to sing along. When you arrived back at the chateau, you shot a quick text to kie before going to the guest bedroom and collapsing on the bed. The tears came almost immediately.

The rest of your night consisted of your favorite sad playlist and a lot of crying. You usually shared the guest bed with JJ, as he was your best friend, and his pillow still smelled like him. You lay there, facing his side of the bed, breathing his scent in deeply and pretending he was there with you.

Eventually, sleep found you and carried you away to a rest filled with dreams about the boy you loved.

When you woke up the next morning, the sun was shining brightly through the curtainless window in the small guest bedroom where you slept. Instinctively, you turned to your right, where a certain blonde usually lays each morning. When you looked, you found nothing but cold, empty sheets, and it all came flooding back to you. You groaned, throwing the bedding off of yourself and standing. If you stayed in the bed any longer thinking about last night, you knew you’d cry again. You hated crying in the morning; it made your face all red and you’d have a headache for the rest of the day.

With a sigh, you lifted your phone from the small bedside table where you’d left it the night before. The time on the screen read 8:37 AM. Knowing that none of your friends would be up at this hour, you walked out of the room and towards the bathroom. All you needed was a shower, you decided, and then you’d feel better.

When the shower was turned on, you stood in front of the dirty bathroom mirror as you waited for the water to warm up. Your appearance was horrible; last night’s makeup was smeared across your face, streaks of black mascara running down your face from your tears. Your hair was tangled from the night's fitful sleep. Insecurity flooded into you at the sight.

I bet JJ’s redhead girl wakes up all pretty in the morning. He’ll see her when he wakes up and he’ll smile because she’s so beautiful.

You tried your best to push these thoughts from your mind, tearing your eyes from your own reflection and getting into the warm water.

In the shower, you tried your best to not think about your best friend,  but when you went to grab your shampoo, you spotted the body wash JJ uses. The one that he always smells like when the two of you settle into bed at night. Tears began blurring your vision at the sight, but you blinked them back and finished your shower as quickly as possible.

A few hours later, everyone had woken up. Kie was first, then Pope, and finally John B. You gave everyone advil for their hangovers and made breakfast. They talked about the night as they ate, and you listened to their stories, trying your best not to think about how horrible you’d felt when they were all having fun. After breakfast, they all showered and dressed. It was nearly noon at this point, and there was still no sign of JJ.

You and the pogues sat on the back porch enjoying the beautiful early summer weather. A conversation was going, but you couldn’t keep your mind on it. It kept wandering to the blonde boy you loved so much, and how worried you were for him. He was usually back from his hookups by this hour.

As if your thoughts had summoned it, you heard tires on the gravel driveway out front, and the slam of a door. JJ walked into the chateau, spotted his friends on the back porch, and walked out to meet them, sitting beside you on the couch.

“Hey, J. How was your night?” John B said with a chuckle.

JJ, though looking tired, had a wide smile on his face. “Great, man. Truly awesome.”

“You’re back later than normal. I was worried about you.” You say quietly. How happy he looked made you uneasy, and there was something about him that was different. He was never this smiley after his usual hookups; he mostly just looked exhausted.

But now, sitting beside you on the beat up outdoor couch, the boy was grinning from ear to ear.

His smile faltered when he heard the concern in your voice. “Oh, sorry.” He says. “I, uh… took her to breakfast.”

Shock radiated from the other pogues.

“You took her to breakfast? You never do that. You usually just leave.” Pope says in disbelief.

JJ chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Yeah, I know. This girl is, uh… I don't know… different. She’s really cool, and sweet, and funny. Not to mention she’s bad as fuck. I like her a lot. I kinda wanna get to know her better.”

Kie beamed. Pope and John B raised their eyebrows. Your stomach dropped to your feet.

“Jj, that’s so great! I’m glad you met her” Kie says with a smile. You force one and nod along, not wanting anybody to know how much his words hurt you. You blinked back the tears that began stinging your eyes, hoping no one noticed how they glossed over.

“Yeah.” JJ beamed. “I am, too.”

In an attempt to keep yourself from crying, you quickly change the subject. “That’s great, J. Now, since we’re all here, are we going out on the marsh? It’s so pretty today, I’d hate to waste the nice weather.”

The pogues all nodded in agreement. Thoughts of JJ’s potential new girl were forgotten as excitement for the day ahead of them grew.

“Yeah, sounds good.” John B says. “I’ve been meaning to go fishing anyway. Everyone else down?”

“Of course! I’ve got work at six-thirty though. Can we be back by then?”

“Yeah, of course we can. We can come back around five, so Kie has time to shower and get ready. If we leave at noon, then that’s what, five hours out there? It’ll work out perfectly.” You say, and the rest of the group nods. “Okay, everyone get their stuff and put on your swimsuits. Be ready by twelve.” At this, everyone begins moving to their respective areas to begin getting ready. You and JJ, as usual, head to the guest room, where all your belongings are.

Once you arrive, you both grab your swimsuits and turn around, a routine for you. When you first began sharing the room, you both decided taking turns in the room and the bathroom was too much work, and you both would just not look when the other was changing clothes. You were grateful for this at the current moment, as tears began welling up in your eyes the moment you turned around.

“So, you really like this girl, huh?” You can’t help yourself from asking.  You know what the answer will be, and you know it will hurt you. But, you ask anyways, a sliver of hope in your mind telling you he’ll say no.

“Yeah, honestly. She’s so cool. She laughed at my jokes, and she hung onto every word I said when we talked. She’s a great listener. She’s so amazing, Y/N. I know I’ve only known her for a day, but I feel like I’ve known her forever. I’m probably gonna text her later and see if she wants to go out tonight or tomorrow.”

Your heart dropped even further down at his words, but you tried your best to hide it. “Oh, really? That’s great. I thought you weren’t the relationship kind of guy?”

“I’m not. It’s just… she’s different. I saw her half an hour ago and I already miss being around her. There’s something about her that’s just so nice… what does Kie call it?... right, her energy. Her energy is just so good. Like I want to be around her all the time. I know I’ve barely met her, but I’m just so comfortable around her. I don’t know… she just feels right.”

“That’s,uh… that’s wonderful JJ. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I’m happy, too.”

You felt like you were going to puke. You took deep breaths while you buttoned up your denim shorts in order to keep you breakfast down. After throwing a cropped tank over your bikini top, you asked JJ if he was decent before turning around. After hearing his ‘yes’, you looked around to him and mustered up the best smile you had. “Uhh, J?”

“Yes?”

“What’s her name? The girl?”

“It’s Faith.”

“Faith who?”

“Faith Barker. You probably don’t know her, she just moved here.”

“Oh, cool.”

And with that, he left. You followed JJ out to the backyard, where the rest of your friends were already getting onto the boat.

You put on your brave face, and prepared yourself to face a day with JJ.

“Are you kidding, Pope? There’s absolutely no way you’re serious.”

“If you truly think about it, you could-”

“No. Stop talking. You are way too smart to believe this shit.”

You and Pope were currently discussing an outrageous conspiracy theory, a heated conversation that no one else seemed to understand. You, like Pope, were quite smart; conversations like this one often blossomed when you and Pope began talking. The rest of the pogues usually watched in amusement, making quiet bets on who would swing first.

“Wait, Y/N, listen! The government hides shit from us all the time. This could be one of those things, easily. We don’t know ninety-eight percent of what goes on behind the scenes.”

“So what you’re telling me right now is that you wholeheartedly believe that Donald Trump used government laser weapons stationed in space to start the California wildfires?”

“No, Y/N, I’m telling you that I wholeheartedly believe that the government is capable of anything, and that nothing is off limits when it comes to the higher-ups in said government.”

“Well, then, you should’ve just said that. The other one made you sound fucking crazy.”

The pogues laughed at your final proclamation, and JJ used the pause in the argument to speak.

“Now that Y/N and Pope are finished with their geek party, is everyone ready to swim?” The group all agreed, (you and Pope glaring daggers at him for the ‘geek party’ comment) and began stripping down to their swimsuits.

You stood quickly, pulling your tank top off your body, happy to be relieved of the fabric. As the North Carolina sun grew hotter, you grew sweatier, the thin material sticking vexatiously to your skin. Once your top was off and in a pile on the boat’s floor, your shorts quickly joined it. You straightened yourself up, looking around at your friends. John B was finishing up anchoring the small vessel. Kie and Pope were standing at the edge of the boat, and on a count of three, they leaped into the water together. Your best friend was staring at you.

You did a double take when you noticed JJ’s eyes examining your body. His blue irises traveled shamelessly up and down your figure, taking in every inch of your body in the swimsuit you’d chosen. Feeling that you needed some confidence, you’d chosen a suit that made you feel amazing: a sexy triangle style bikini. The white fabric was vibrant against your already tanned skin, the style flattering your shape in all the right places.

JJ, obviously, appreciated the swimsuit just as much as you did. You could practically feel his eyes boring into your skin as he continued to stare at you.

Feeling confident, you snapped your fingers at him, causing his eyes to meet yours.

“Eyes are up here, Maybank.” You teased with a wink, before stepping to the edge of the boat and executing a clean dive into the water.

The cool water enveloped you, a wonderful contrast to your hot skin. Below the surface, you were calm, and you allowed yourself to relax momentarily as you swam.

JJ, on the other hand, was far from relaxed. Watching you undress, your teasing words, that wink, and your dive left him unbelievably flustered. “Holy shit.” He mumbled, unable to form any more words.

“What the fuck was that, man?” John B, who had seen the whole encounter, questioned with a smirk.

JJ ran his hand through his messy hair, and blew out a breath. “I don’t man, but I liked it. A lot.”

John B smirked. “Yeah, me too.”

JJ shot the boy a glare, and he raised his hands in surrender with a light chuckle.

“Sorry, J, didn’t realize she was yours.”

JJ furrowed his brows. “She- she’s not mine, I- uh…”

John B chuckled again, coming forward and clapping a hand down on his friends shoulder. “Are you sure about that man?”

JJ watched, mouth agape, as John B gave him a smile before setting down his beer and jumping into the water.

Not knowing what to say, JJ took a moment to process what his friend had implied. You and him weren’t… a thing. You were just friends, best friends, and nothing more. Sure, he had thought about you a few times, maybe had a dream or two about you…

But even if he did feel that way towards you, of course you wouldn’t feel the same way. You viewed him as a brother, he thought, not a boyfriend. The two of you dating was probably a thought that was so outrageous, it never even crossed your mind.

As JJ watched you in the water, swimming and laughing, his mind continued to wander. Would it be so bad if the two of you dated? You did everything together anyways; you even slept in the same bed. Truthfully, a relationship would only add affection, and things he only allowed himself to think about late at night when he was sure you were asleep. You fought like a married couple, you buy things for each other that make you think of the other person. When you get your period, he comes over to your house with chocolates and ice cream and you watch movies together all day. If you think about it, you were basically together. And, he’d noticed you being extra flirty lately, and there was a strange look in your eye when he began talking about Faith…

No. JJ scolded himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He did not need to be thinking about this. The two of you were just friends, and that’s how it should stay. The rule still stands, right? No pogue on pogue macking. And besides, he had Faith; a wonderful girl he actually really liked.

Even if the two of you dating was a good idea (which it wasn’t), you would never want to. You loved and cared about him, of course… just not like that.

JJ decided to shove the idea of a relationship with you out of his mind the best he could and enjoy his day. He ran to the edge of the boat, jumping with his legs pressed tightly to his chest, shouting “Cannonball!”

As JJ’s body hit the water, a large wave exploded around him, splashing the pogues.

Kiara squealed. “JJ, you dick! You got water in my eye!” You laughed at the whole encounter, swimming over to Kiara.

“Come on, there’s a sandbar over there. We can fix your eye.” You offer with a giggle, pointing to your left where you knew the sandbar was. Kie nodded, her hand still rubbing at her left eye.

“If I go blind, JJ, you’re paying for my optometrist bills.” Kie says, feigning anger as the two of you swim to the sandbar.

“Sorry, Kie, no can do. I’m broke, and I have no idea what that word means.”

You chuckle lightly, helping to pull Kie to a standing position with you. “It’s an eye doctor, dumbass.” You tell JJ, moving Kiara’s hand from her eye. “Try to open it, Kie.” You say softly, leaning in to examine it.

Kiara makes an attempt, but the salt stings her eye as soon as oxygen hits it. “Shit!” She exclaims, hands going back to her eye in instinct. “I’m trying, Y/N, but it burns like a bitch.”

JJ, who was holding onto the side of the HMS Pogue while treading water, observed you and your friend on the sandbar. You were always so caring, he noticed, whether it was a friend getting saltwater in their eye or a deep cut on their leg from a sharp rock. JJ could recall countless times where, after a particularly nasty bout with his father, you’d sat him on your shared bed in the chateau, gently cleaning his wounds and assuring him that everything would be alright. He loved you for this; he’d never met anyone so loving and helpful.

“Okay, Kie, we’re probably just gonna have to rinse the saltwater out. I brought some water bottles, I’ll go get one for you.”

You moved off the sandbar and back into the deep water, headed for the boat. You, being the mom of the group, always remembered the little things. Kie always remembered a case of beer; JJ went nowhere without a freshly rolled blunt on him. You, however, were always the one to pack the important things: snacks, sunscreen, and water bottles.

As you approached the boat, JJ smiled at you.

“Look at you, playing nurse again.” He teases, splashing you lightly.

“I wouldn’t have to if you gave a little more a warning before splashing everybody, dickhead.” You joke back. JJ laughed, but didn’t move from his spot. He was blocking the boat’s stairs, and you couldn’t get on if he didn’t move over.

“Move, JJ, I’ve got to get water for Kie.” You said, motioning to the side. Just to mess with you, JJ stayed in place, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

“Why should I?” He smirks, knowing just how to get a rise out of you.

“Because I’m trying to help Kie because of something you did.”

“Not good enough.” He knows he’s pissing you off now.

“JJ, move.” You demand. He’s the reason Kie’s eye is all messed up in the first place; he has no right to stop you from helping her.

“Only if you decide to ask nicely.” He says with another smug smirk.

You roll your eyes. You were fed up with his games, and your legs were beginning to grow tired from treading water all this time.

“JJ, will you PLEASE get the fuck out of my way so I can get water for Kie?” You say, frustration apparent in your voice.

“That still wasn’t very nice-”

“JJ!” You growl warningly.

“You didn’t let me finish!” He exclaims. “But, you said the magic word, so I guess I can let you through.”

He finally moves to the side, allowing you to climb the stairs and board the boat. You went straight to the cooler in which you knew you’d put the water bottles. You swung the lid open, grabbed one, dropped it shut, then dived into the water. You knew the bottle was sealed tight; it was unopened. No saltwater could get inside, so you simply swam back to Kie holding the bottle in your hand.

You climbed back onto the sand bar and headed straight for Kiara.

“Here, I got a water bottle. It’s been in the cooler for a while so it may be a little cold on your eye.” You informed her, showing her the water bottle in your hand.

“Oh, thank you!” She exclaimed. “What took so long?”

“JJ was fucking around with me.” You exclaimed. “I swear, he can be the most annoying person on earth sometimes.” You moved towards your friend, unscrewing the water bottle and tilting her head back. You began lightly pouring the water over her eye, rinsing it of any salt that remained inside it.

“So you’re in love with him, why?” Kie questioned.

You immediately pause, halting all movement at her words

Did she just say what you think she said?

“Umm, what?” Is your reply as you continue rinsing out her eye.

“Come on, Y/N, you heard what I said. You’re in love with JJ.”

Play dumb, you decide. Maybe if you act like you don’t know what she’s talking about then she’ll think it’s not true.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Kie.” You say with a forced laugh.

“I think I’m good.” She says removing the water bottle from her face. She straightens up and blinks a few times before turning towards you. “Seriously, Y/N. You’re not that slick, and I’m not that dumb.”

Not knowing what to say, you just say nothing.

“We’re your best friends, Y/N, we probably know you better than you know yourself. You have feelings for JJ. I saw how much it hurt you when he was talking about that girl this morning. I saw how flirty the two of you were earlier today before you got in the water. Honestly, Y/N, I don’t know what you think you were hiding.”

You drop her gaze, looking anywhere but into her eyes. Of course you loved him, but what were you meant to say?

“I don’t know, Kie. I think I might have feelings for him. But, even if I did, he’s not into me like that. And if I told him how I feel, it’d just ruin our friendship. He’s my best friend. I can’t lose him.”

“How can you be sure he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Because of Faith.”

“Because of who?”

You sigh, knowing you’ll have to explain. “That’s the girl he was talking about last night. The one he said he really liked. If you are truly in love with someone, you don’t have feelings for someone else. I haven’t like anyone for months because all I could focus on was JJ. I can’t even fathom going home with someone after a party because I’d think of him every second I’m with the person. Do you get what I’m saying? When you’re really that into someone, no one else exists.”

After a short moment, Kie slowly nods.

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. But how do you know he wasn��t lying about that Faith girl? Just… I don’t know… saying those things to see how you’d react?”

You shook your head. “No. I know JJ better than I know myself. He wasn’t lying, I could see it in his face. In his eyes. He actually likes that girl. And it, uh… it hurts. A lot.”

Tears began welling up in your eyes, and Kiara pulled you into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’ve finally come clean about this, I can’t process how hard it must’ve been for you to have no one to talk to.”

You nodded, and pulled away.

“Okay.” Kie began, grabbing your hands. “Here’s what’s gonna happen:First, we’re gonna swim and have some fun today. Second, we’re gonna go home so you can shower and feel all good and clean. Third, after I get off work today I’m coming to stay here and we are gonna get you wasted. I’ll even kick JJ out of the guest room so we can stay up late talking about him. Sound good?”

You quickly nodded. “Yes, Kie, thank you. That sounds amazing.”

Kie smiled warmly at your words. “No need to thank me, babes. That’s what friends are for, right? Now come on, let’s go have some fun.”

And have fun you did. You and the pogues had the best time that day; you swam, had chicken fights, had splash battles, a dive competition off the side of the boat. The day was as close to being perfect as it possibly could be. After a while, the five of you settled back into the boat, eating the snacks you packed. Once five rolled around, John B put the pogue in drive and you all headed back to the Chateau, already exhausted from the day's endeavors. As you pulled up to the dock, you leaped off the boat, shouting over your shoulder that you called first shower. Kie bade her goodbyes to the group before heading to her house to get ready for work.

You and JJ, as usual, made a beeline for the guest bedroom. Once the door closed, JJ immediately rounded on you.

“What were you talking about with Kie when you were helping her with her eye?” He questioned.

“Nothing, really. Why?” You quickly reply. Why was he so concerned? Did he hear anything?

“No specific reason, I just thought I heard my name.”

Your heart dropped to your feet.

“Oh, uh… Kie asked what took me so long when I went to get to the water bottle and I told her it was because you were messing with me.” Not a total lie.

“Really? That’s it? I could’ve sworn I heard my name, like, five times.”

As you finished gathering your clothes to change into after your shower, you turned and faced your friend. “Yep, that’s all. Your name was only mentioned once. I’ve gotta go shower now.”

You tried your best to hurry out the door, but JJ stopped you by grabbing your arm.

“Is there, uh… is there something you need to tell me, Y/N?” He asked quietly. As you gazed into his eyes, you saw a swirling storm of emotions. Fear, nervousness, and is that… hope?

“Umm, no, not that I can think of right now.” You push out quickly, knowing that if you thought about your answer any longer you’d start to look suspicious.

JJ hesitated for a moment, studying your eyes as if all his answers could be found there. When he realized his searching would come to no avail, he released your arm and looked away, nodding. “Okay, I just… yeah. Um, enjoy your shower.”

You furrowed your brows, confused by his strange behavior. “Thanks?” You said with a light laugh. You turn to leave, but a lightbulb forms over your head before you walk out of the room. “Oh, J, there is something I wanted to tell you.”

The blonde boy stood up from his spot on the bed, what seemed like hope spreading on his face.

“Yeah?”

“Kie’s spending the night tonight, but we want to share this room so we’re kicking you out.”

JJ’s face fell. “What? Why isn’t she sleeping on the pull out with Pope like usual?”

“Uhh… girl talk.” Your answer makes him both frustrated and slightly nervous.

“Girl talk? About what?”

You face dropped into a sassy expression, attitude forming within you.

“Are you a girl?” You question, cocking your head to the side slightly.

“Obviously not.”

“Well, then, guess you won’t be knowing what girl talk is about. It’s kinda for girls, hence the name.”

JJ rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Fine. Go take your shower before I steal the bathroom from you.”

You run quickly out of the room and into the bathroom, knowing that JJ would keep that promise if given the chance.

It’s now close to eleven forty-five, crickets chirping loudly outside of the Chateau. You, John B, Pope, and JJ are currently settled onto the couch, watching some cheesy sitcom that’s new on netflix. It wasn’t very good, and definitely wasn’t that funny, but it was a form of entertainment as you waited for Kie to arrive. Kie made you promise that you wouldn’t let the boys break out the alcohol before she showed up, and you always kept your promises. The boys protested greatly, but followed your instructions nonetheless.

This is why everyone cheered loudly when Kiara finally walked through the the front door of the house carrying two bags; one with her clothes, the other with two bottles of alcohol.

“It’s party time, bitches!” Kie exclaimed, and everyone ran up to see her. JJ reached for one of the bottles in her tote bag, but she slapped his hand away quickly. “No. Y/N gets first dibs on everything. She’s getting off her ass tonight.”

JJ looked at you, concern swimming in his eyes. You knew he knew you well; you usually only got hammered when there was something you needed to distract yourself from. There was something to distract yourself from, of course, but he couldn’t know what. So, you simply shot him a small smile as an answer to his look. He nodded, taking your smile as an ‘I’m getting shitfaced for the hell of it’ expression.

“Thanks, Kie!” You exclaimed, grabbing both bottles out of her bag. “You can drop your bags in the guest room, I already told JJ he’s been booted for the night.” Kie smiled, while Pope’s face fell.

“What? You’re sleeping in Y/N’s room? I thought you were staying with me!”

Kiara dropped her bags in the room before walking over to Pope, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

“Sorry, bebs. Y/N needs a girl talk tonight. I promise I’ll spend extra time with you tomorrow, okay?”

Pope nodded reluctantly at this, and the party began.

You set the bottles on the counter, where John B opened one for you. “No way, Kie! Vanilla vodka? I can’t believe you got my favorite!”

Kie smiled. “Yes ma’am! You know I got you always.”

You beamed back at the girl, insanely grateful to call her your friend. Kiara always knew how to make you feel better.

“You’re the best, Kie!”

A few hours and many drinks later, you couldn’t walk in a straight line to save your life. Kie fed you drink after drink, and John B blasted music through his speaker. You were having the time of your life, seemingly forgetting about JJ (despite the fact that he was right there with you the entire time.)

Now, it was getting late, and you were getting tired. Near the end of your drinking was when the tears usually come, and John B accidentally let the beginning of ‘Heather’ by Conan Gray play. You turned to Kie, motioning her towards you.

“Can we go to bed?” You slur. “It’s girl talk time.”

Kie nods understandingly, linking her arm in yours and announcing to the rest of the group that the two of you were headed to bed.

As soon as the door closed behind you, tears welled up in your eyes. Kie immediately walked to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

When her arms were around you, you couldn’t hold your tears back any longer. Sobs began to overtake your body, tears spilling onto Kiara’s shoulder.

“It’s so hard, Kie.” You choke out, practically unable to form real words.

Kiara, being the amazing friend she is, just held you, rubbing your back.

“I know, love, I know.” She soothed softly.

You pulled away from the embrace, trying your best to wipe your tears from your face.

“I-I just feel so stupid.” You choke.

“Please don’t feel that way, Y/N.” Kie says. “It’s not your fault, you can’t help the way you feel.”

You sniffed, choking on sobs once again. “I know it’s not my fault, but it still hurts. I mean, look at me, I’m wasted out of my mind crying over him. He’s probably out there drinking and laughing and having fun with his friends. He doesn't care.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t care, Y/N, he doesn’t know. He’s just… I don’t know, oblivious.”

You sniffled again, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to have a sense of security. “You’re probably right. He wouldn’t talk about Faith to me, or openly talk about all of his hookups around me if he knew. He’s too good of a person.”

“I don’t know if this will make you feel any better, Y/N, but… I think he may feel the same way. Like, the way he treats you, how he speaks to you, how flirty he is with you-”

“He’s flirty with everyone Kie. You, me… damn it, he even flirts with Pope.”

“I know, I know, but it just feels different with you somehow.”

“But it’s not different. You know how I know? Faith. Like I said earlier, on the sandbar. When you truly love someone, no one else even comes into the picture. I think he is oblivious, Kie… he just doesn’t see me the way I see him.”

Little did you know, JJ was far from oblivious. While John B and Pope were continuing their night, JJ followed you and Kie to the bedroom, listening carefully outside the door. His mouth was agape as he heard the words leave your mouth. He felt guilty for listening in; he knew eavesdropping wasn’t okay. But, when he saw the look in your eyes as you and Kie walked out, he couldn’t help himself. He had to make sure you were okay.

He didn’t know what he was expecting to hear, but this sure wasn’t it. You were… in love with him? He couldn’t process it. All this time, he thought you saw him as just a brother. Now, standing alone outside the door of the bedroom you usually shared, he realized he couldn’t be more wrong. Every time he caught you looking at him, every wink, every flirtatious comment; it was all real to you.

And here he was, talking to you about Faith, not knowing how much that would hurt you. He really made it seem like he was in love with the girl… but he knew he wasn’t. How could he be? Standing there, at that moment, he realized… you were right.

When you truly love someone, no one else comes into the picture.

JJ moved quietly away from his spot by the door, still completely dumbfounded by his discovery.

You loved him.

And… he loved you.

He immediately walked back to the living room. John B and Pope were still having the time of their lives. They hadn’t even noticed his absence. The music was still blasting; John B stood on the couch, Pope on the coffee table. They had taken random objects from around the house (John B with a yardstick, Pope with a pool noodle) and were swordfighting. Their laughs echoed throughout the shack, combining with the loud music to create a lighthearted chorus.

They paused immediately, however, when they saw the look on JJ’s face as he returned to the room.

“You good, man?” john B questions, brows furrowed

“It looks like you shit your pants. What happened?” Pope adds on.

JJ doesn’t even know where to begin. He’s hardly processed the information himself. Slowly, he clears his throat, and tries his best to inform his friends about the situation at hand.

“I… uh… you know how Kie and Y/N left to go have ‘girl talk?’ Well, I listened at the door, and-”

“Woah.” Pope interrupts. He was far more sober than the others, having only had two drinks. But since alcohol isn’t normally his thing, his tolerance was extremely low, meaning he was still quite tipsy.

“The fuck is wrong with you, man? You never listen in on girl talk. Ever. That’s, like, a rule or something.”

“Y/N looked upset! I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“Well, was she? What’s wrong with her?” John B was beginning to grow bored of the conversation in his drunk state.

“Well, she and Kie were talking and… um… she was upset.” JJ didn’t know the best way to proceed, so he just blurted it out. “Y/N was crying, and she was talking about being in love with someone and them not liking her back, and then Kie said they did like her back, and then I realized they were talking about me.”

The boys were silent for a moment. Suddenly, Pope and John B looked at each other, and bursted into grins.

“Yes! Finally!” Pope exclaims.

“I couldn’t wait until you found out. It was starting to become painful.”

JJ was baffled once again. “You guys knew?”

“She didn’t tell either of us, and neither did Kie. But, uhh… it’s really fucking obvious, dude.”

“If it’s so obvious, then why didn’t I know until now?”

“Because you’re oblivious, J! She could kiss you and you would think she only saw you as a friend.” John B says, clapping his hand down on JJ’s shoulder.

“She’s my best friend. She’s always acted like a best friend to me, right? We slept in the same bed and shit because we’re so close.” JJ’s statement seemed to be trying to convince himself more than his friends.

“You call that little incident on the boat earlier something best friends do? Come on, man, she was practically begging to be with you. The only way it could have been more obvious is if she pounced on you and started making out with you.”

“I-I thought that was a joke.”

“Didn’t seem like one.”

JJ’s brain felt ready to explode.

“So, when are you asking her out?” Pope questions with a smile.

“Ask her out?”

“Just admit it, man, we know you love her too.”

“I don’t know…”

“You’re in denial!” John B exclaims. “JJ, I’ve known you since third grade. I know you better than I know myself. I see how you look at her. It’s goo goo eyes every time she walks in a room. And you just- I don’t know- melt around her. No one can get you to open up like she can. No one can comfort you like she can. She’s your person, J.”

JJ doesn’t know what to say for what seems like the millionth time last night. He feels like he wants to cry, throw up, smile, and die all at the same time. “I- What about Faith?”

“Fuck Faith!” Pope says earnestly. “I’m sure she’s cool and all but come on. This is Y/N we’re talking about. She’s stunning, and smart, and funny. She’s literally you, just a lot hotter and with a bit more common sense.”

“I’m starting to think you have a crush on her.” JJ chuckles.

Pope just rolls his eyes. “You know what I’m trying to say. She’s perfect for you, man. And she already means a lot to you. You’re in love with her, I know you are.”

JJ sighs, covering his face. “Yeah, I think I am. I feel like I’ve known it for a while but I’ve just pushed it away I guess. She’s Y/N, my best fucking friend. I didn’t wanna mess things up between us, you know? What we have is so good…”

“Well, now you know you won’t mess anything up. So go get her, dumbass.” John B says, pushing JJ in the direction of the guest room.

“What, you mean now? Absolutely not. She’s probably asleep. And then she’ll know I was eavesdropping on their conversation. Not happening tonight, that’s for sure.”

“If you wait, you’ll chicken out.” Pope says. “Just do it. Rip off the band aid, my friend.”

“No.” JJ shakes his head, giving his final word. Not tonight. I’ll-I’ll do it tomorrow, okay?”

John B just shakes his head, patting his friend on the pat. “Whatever you say, man. I’m going to bed.”

“Same.” Pope adds. The boys say goodnight, and head off to their sleeping places. John B must have disconnected his phone from the speaker, as the music shuts off abruptly. JJ just sighs.

He moves to the couch, where he’s sleeping for tonight, pondering how much he’d give to be sleeping in his usual spot tonight. He cherishes his nights with you; they’re so comforting and nice. You are always such an amazing listener, and you always know the right things to say. You truly are the perfect girl.

He feels that you’re so close, yet so far away. He longs to walk in that room and kiss you right now. He knows it’s a terrible idea, but he wants to so badly. So long he’s dreamed of how your  lips would feel against his… and now he knows you might’ve been having similar dreams the entire time. He still can’t wrap his mind around it.

Being in love with your best friend is some cruel kind of psychological torture, JJ decides. The constant tugging at your heart when she mentions another guys’ name. The playful flirting that you wish was serious. All he ever wants is to hold you tight and never let go, but he never thought you wanted that. Now he knows you did, but it still feels so complicated.

Why is love so goddamn difficult?

JJ’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a creaking door and shuffling footsteps. He peeks up quickly to find you, still decently tipsy, walking out of your bedroom. He watches silently as you walk to the back door and go straight out of it.

The world seems to be spinning as you walk. Your head is beginning to pound from all your crying. After a few more minutes of talking, Kie had fallen asleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the dark room.

You had laid there, breathing heavily, going over every moment with JJ in your head. Your time as friends played like a movie in your mind, showing scene after scene of laughs, tears, smiles, and a whole lot of heartbreak. You wondered how you had gotten stuck so damn far into the friendzone.

Deciding you needed some fresh air, you pulled yourself from the bed and stumbled outside, heading down to the end of the dock.

You sat there on the edge, legs dangling off the side, toes brushing the surface of the water. You were still quite tipsy, and you knew it.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t burst into tears when you noticed JJ Maybank coming to sit beside you.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment. He didn’t know what to say to you; you had nothing to say to him. You gazed out over the water, and wondered if you could dive into the water and swim to the other side of the earth at this exact moment.

Thoughts of your escape plan were broken by a familiar voice you loved so much it hurt.

“Y/N?” The word was soft, almost nervous. The sound of it made you concerned. JJ never talks like this.

Instead of replying with some sassy answer as you normally would when drunk, you gave a simple “Yes?”

You heard JJ take a deep breath from beside before speaking again. “I, uh… I heard what you and Kie were talking about in the room. What you said.”

“You were eavesdropping on us? That’s kinda fucked up, J.”

“I-I didn’t mean to!” He defends himself quickly. “I was, uh, walking by and I heard you crying. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Okay.” You sigh. You had an idea of what was coming next. He’d give you some sympathetic ‘I’m sorry, I love you, just not like that’ and then things would never be the same afterwards. The last thing you wanted to happen would come true.

You’d lose him.

JJ didn’t seem to want to initiate the next part of the conversation, so you took matters into your own hands. “So you know? How I feel?”

JJ bites his lip, apprehensive. “Yeah. I-I do.”

You just nod; what else can you do? You feel the familiar lump form in your throat. Your head drops, tears pouring from your eyes almost immediately. You can’t believe you were going to lose him.

“Y/N-” JJ begins, but you are quick to cut him off.  

“No, J. I don’t need your sympathy. ‘You love me, just not like that.’ Don’t worry, I already know. Can we just move on?”

“But, Y/N-”

“No, JJ!” All the emotions you’ve hidden from him for so long were bursting out of you. You couldn’t tell whether it was from the alcohol or your vulnerable state, but the words came spilling out of you.

“I can’t. I-I can’t hear you say it. I’ve been dealing with this shit for so long. I’ve always known you don’t love me like that, and that’s okay. B-But I just can’t handle hearing you say it. So just… I don’t know… say you’re sorry and go back inside. I know things will never be the same between us after this, so I’ll move my things out of the guest room. It was your room first, I’ll sleep on the outdoor couch. I just- I just hate things had to end this way. I-I love you, J, and I always will, and it sucks that you don’t-”

Your words are cut off by JJ grabbing your face and crashing his lips onto yours. The sheer power of the kiss knocks you backwards, laying on your back with the blonde boy you love so much hovering over you. Kissing you.

JJ Maybank, finally kissing you.

At this moment, you silently condemn yourself for laughing at the dramatic first kisses between characters in movies. Fireworks always light up in the background, and it feels like they’ve been waiting for this moment their whole lives. You’ve always thought the whole thing was cheesy and overexaggerated, but now, experiencing it, you knew you were wrong.

Kissing JJ for the first time felt like everything you’ve ever needed. Like there was a missing piece in your life up until this point, and it’s finally been filled.

In your entire lifetime, nothing has ever felt so right.

After a moment, JJ pulls away, looking at you with a look in his eyes that he’s never seen before.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

And then he’s kissing you again, and the sparks fly for the second time that night. You knew, and he knew, that you were kissing your soulmate.

You stayed like that for a while, holding each other, finally expressing the love you’d both been hiding for so long. Once you were done, you laid on the dock, wrapped in each other's arms, watching the stars.

JJ noticed your breathing getting heavier, and soon you were asleep. He looked at you for a moment. Even sleeping, you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

The boy picked you up and carried you back to the porch, where he lays down with you on the couch.

He wraps his arms around you, never wanting to let go.

“Hey, J?” You mumble, barely awake.

“Yes, baby?” He replies softly, making your heart flutter at the nickname.

“I love you so much.”

JJ smiles. “I love you too, Y/N.”

You fall asleep to the sound of the words you for so long wanted to hear, wrapped in the arms of the beautiful boy you finally get to call yours.

[whyaretheyfictionalcharacters]

Kinktober - Day 5

Ok so, second Sterek instalment. Good stuff.

Originally posted on AO3.

xoxo Lexi

“I don't think anyone is really taking this seriously”, Stiles comments, stepping over a tree trunk with the same grace Derek has just showed. Exactly the same. He flays around his arms a tid bit but apart from that? They could be mistaken for the same person.

Derek twists around and goes to help him. “Are you?”.

“Well, considering who thought about this you're damn right I am”.

The treasure hunt was Lydia's idea, a way to build in-pack relationships and create a more stable net of connections among them. If Stiles thinks her intention was to simply prove again to everyone else who's the smartest in the pack—he's certainly not going to tell anyone, he's not suicidal. And that's exactly the same reason he's taking this (honestly a bit ridiculous) relationship building exercise seriously. Or as seriously as he can take it, anyway.

“Lydia scares you?”.

“Of course she does! Doesn't she scare you?”.

“Oh, I'm terrified of her”, Derek answers with a frown. “And she's tiny”.

Stiles laughs, dried leaves crunching underneath his sneakers. “Don't let her hear you”.

“She's not a werewolf”. A small shrug. “Jackson is the only one around and he's at least a mile away”.

As they walk in silence, the only noise around them being their footsteps thudding on the ground, Stiles finally finds some appreciation for the quietness of the preserve. Being here with Derek, letting their shoulders and fingers brush against each other after the messy few weeks they've had with threats in the supernatural world feels comfortable and surreal. And probably it's his leftover-teenage hormones speaking but he can't wait for this treasure hunt to end so Derek and he can run off to his room and blow off some steam. Or blow off something else. That does sound like a plan.

His dad would not come back until later that night, probably after dinner, and that'd give them – Stiles calculates quickly in his mind – five hours to get funky, to jelly roll. Scrog a bit and schtupp together. To take old one eye to the optometrist. To play hide the salami. To dip Derek's cookie in Stiles glass of milk. Numerous times, if the werewolf's refractory period gives any clue. They could start small; make out on Stiles bed and test the sturdiness of the frame – which they've already done, by the way and sneaking out a broken bed slat out of the Sheriff's home is not as easy as it might sound. Which doesn't sound easy. At all. So one can only imagine the uncomfortable conversation he's had to have with Mrs Wunderby from across the road – and then get rid of their clothes because Stiles is a selfless person and Derek's body is something that needs to be cherished and admired. Keeping it clothed would be like...like clipping wings off of a mighty eagle. Or shut down the Smithsonian. It'd have that much of a cultural backfire. It'd be immoral.

So Stiles would take Derek's clothes off and admire that chest of his, all wide and muscly and warm and furry in a sexy way. He'd dip his hand down to follow the line of hairs to his navel, go over it and open his jeans because if unclothing Derek's chest is a cultural aid for the entire state of California, than the sight of his cock is a spiritual experience.

Derek Hale is big. Not impossibly big – Stiles is sure he doesn't live in one of those ridiculous stories people read with enhanced and horse-sized dicks – but nevertheless he's...gifted. Must have something to do with those werewolf genes of his and if that's the case, dear Mother Nature, wolves are a gift to them all. What turns on Stiles though it's not just the size of his shaft – still has a pretty high place in the list of 'Reasons why Derek Hale is a gift from the gods and Stiles is grateful he's his boyfriend' – it's the utter difference there is between the two of them. And that's not a euphemism about his own cock, Stiles is pretty content with his genitals, no complaints there. No, that's not it at all.

Stiles still remember when he recognised what the issue was and he probably has to thank Erica for that.

“You're such a twink, Stiles”, she had said once during their weekly coffee meetings and Stiles has seen enough gay porn after his surprising epiphany in high school to know what a 'twink' is. He's not oblivious, or his name would've been Scott McCall.

He had tried to deny that in front of his salted caramel frappuccino but as usual Erica had her own arguments. “You are, Stiles. You and Derek are literally the epitome of a bear-twink relationship”.

And God, was she right.

The werewolf might be only slightly taller than him but his presence is mightier, his shoulders wider and his arms definitely bigger. Stiles always feels dwarfed every time he's in close proximity with Derek and he does not complaint about that. Not. One. Bit. Dude can pick him up without breaking a sweat and fuck him against the wall as if he weighted less than a baked potato with bacon sprinkles on top. Jeez, those are good times. Hot times. As in Death Valley hot.

“Stiles”.

Surely they can do something like that today. There are so many options to spend five hours sexing up a werewolf Stiles gets a bit dizzy sometimes: this is literally his teenage dream, with no skinny jeans on and a comfy mattress instead of bedsheets forts in a motel room. Take that Katy Perry.

“Stiles”.

“What? Whassup?”, he asks turning to look at Derek.

Who is currently staring angrily at him. He seems pretty pissed actually, if Stiles has to tell the truth. Unfortunately he thought he had left all those annoyed stares and growled words in the past so this is turning out to be a shocking turn of events. In a not-so-sexy way.

“Uhm...Der? Everything okay?”.

Green eyes seems to struggle to not turn bright blue, flashing dangerously between the two shades. “Where's your head at?”.

Okay, this does seem like a trick question. Lydia taught me about this sort of things. “On my...shoulders?”.

Derek does not seem impressed. “You smell—you're stinking up the place”.

“Oh. Sorry”, he mutters self-consciously.

He thought Derek liked his smell. Sometimes he also finds him with his face deep into his own pillow when he comes back from the bathroom after Derek spends the night; or he would dip his nose along Stiles' neck while they're watching a film on the were's laptop in his apartment. When they're in public and Stiles thinks about sexy-times-ensuring things Derek always can smell him and he gets this intense expression that almost resembles his old…

Oh. Oh.

“Oh”.

“Yeah”, Derek agrees tightly as he steps forward. “Oh”.

“I think—I think my head is not taking this, uh. This treasure hunt as seriously as before, big guy”.

One step forward. “Really now?”.

“Mmh-mm”. Stiles steps back. “I mean. Can you blame me?”.

“I don't know. We were just talking about Jackson”. Another step.

Urgh. “Let's not mention him, deal?”. Last step backwards and Stiles' back hits the thick trunk of a tree. “I really don't wanna think about him and sex together. That's just plain wrong”.

He can see a gleam of amusement and coyness as Derek stops in front of him, face just inches away from Stiles'. “Oh, is that what you were thinking about? Sex?”.

“Uh, duh. I was thinking about, you know, when this stupid treasure hunt is other and we can go back to mine and the fact that my dad is going to be out for at least five hours – I know, I counted them – and we could, you know. Get some stankie on hang down—”.

“God, Stiles”. Derek's face scrunches up horrified. “No”.

“No? You don't like that? Okay, how about I ride your flagpole?”.

“Stiles”.

“Storm the cotton gin”.

“Stiles”.

“Hit a home run”.

“Stiles”.

“Sorry!”, he says with a small smile at Derek's exasperation. “Thought you'd appreciate the baseball reference. But another thing I was thinking was—”.

Derek glares at him. “I swear to God, Stiles. If you say one more—”.

“—you said Jackson is at least a mile away and we're all alone now”. Stiles looks down bashfully and hooks his finger in Derek's waistband. “And who knows when this awful thing is going to end. Might not have time when we get home”. Looking up from under his eyelashes he smirk a bit. “We could save time and...do this. Now. Here”.

 He sees a shiver running up Derek's arms just before they're placed on the tree caging his head. “You want to do it here?”.

“Yes”, he whispers.

“Now?”.

“Yeah”. A breath and a whimper.

He has enough time to think about the possibilities when a mouth descends on him and sharp, human teeth bite his lower lip, pulling reverently before nipping it. Stiles gasps when Derek's body presses up against his through the many, too many layers of clothes they're currently wearing. Derek takes that opportunity to slip his tongue between the other's lips, teasing the wet muscle and probing the mouth with deep, hungry movements.

“Lydia's—shit. Lydia's going to be so angry”, Stiles weakly comments before moaning as Derek's hips press against his, trapping him between his warm, strong body and the cold trunk behind him.

“Do you care?”.

“Fuck no”.

He snakes his hands underneath Derek's t-shirt, revelling in the heat of his olive skin, the softness of his hairs and the hardness of his muscles. One of the wolf's thighs gets between his own, providing some blessed friction for Stiles' awakening cock. He rubs himself against Derek, feeling the need to open his legs for him and the sensation of emptiness is starting to get too uncomfortable to be ignored as they're kissing. He's never been an exhibitionist (he thinks, though he's discovering all kinds of kinks in his relationship with Derek) but the idea of having the wolf inside him, right here and now in the middle of the preserve with the afternoon light out still, the terrifying possibility of the pack finding them out—it seems to be exciting in all the wrong ways.

“Derek”, he sighs, lips sensitive from beard burn. “I need—God—I need you to—to fuck me. Like. Yesterday”.

Derek's mouth descends on his neck and at the deep inhale of his arousal Stiles shivers, feeling like the teenager he used to be five years ago. “We don't have anything”.

AH! With a dramatic flourish – probably more ridiculous than dramatic. If only that Sourwolf would stop doing what he was doing with his mouth on his ne—oh. Oh, that's nice – Stiles takes out his phone from his back pocket and slips off the case. “Speak for yourself”. The small packet of KY seems to shine in their eyes, a little lost treasure, their own small miracle. “I think I have a rubber in my wallet as well”.

“Have you always had lube inside your phone case?”, Derek asks with a shocked expression. “And do we need a condom?”.

“Don't want to leak all over my underwear. Especially not around a pack of werewolves, thank you very much”. Stiles takes out a wrapper from his wallet and hands it to Derek before he resumes touching underneath the other's shirt. “And the answer is yes. From the moment we've started dating”.

They kiss, lips open and sharing breath. “Nice to know”.

“We need to—god—”. An aimed thrust sends shivers up his legs. “Derek—we need to move”.

He gets one of his hands down, slipping in the tight fit of Derek's jeans and the hard, big cock he touches through his underwear makes him moan and spread his legs as he leans back to push his hips outward. Stiles has touched it an endless number of times yet every time seems like a new experience, a new discovery.

At Stiles' touch Derek exhales, relieved and aroused. Those lean, slender fingers massage his cock with experienced motions and the grip they use after teasing it into full firmness is heaven for Derek's spurred mind. It doesn't matter if they're in the middle of the woods with a pack of werewolves only a mile away and probably listening in, the Beta can't help but await impatiently to be inside Stiles body and thrust into that heated tightness in abandonment. Maybe there's a part of him – the wild wolf that seems to constantly seek out freedom and nature – that is turned on exactly by that fact; the possibility of being found out while collecting his prize and marking his territory, his mate in the open.

The moment their jeans are undone and their erections brush against each other, Derek grabs Stiles slim hips and turns him quickly but not violently, his cheek now resting on the roughness of the bark and ass pushed back to rub on the wolf's cock. There's only their erratic panting for what feels like ages as Derek rips the lube open and then, “God, Der—Fuck me already”.

“I'm not gonna hurt you, Stiles. Especially not out here”.

“Then shove your fingers in me!”, he cries out turning at an odd angle to plead the wolf with his eyes. “Please, I need you inside. Right now. Please”.

Derek wants that. Oh, he so wants that. And from around that pale, sinewy body he can see Stiles' red dick skim slightly against the trunk of the tree. It can't be comfortable nor pleasurable and even though Stiles seems to have other things in his mind, Derek pulls his hips back a bit more to put more space between the delicate part and the pine husk. He doesn't spend much time warming up the lube and the moment his forefinger touches the puckered hole in front of him he sees Stiles jerk up before quickly settling down again. He prepared him as swiftly and efficiently as standing in the preserve half-naked would allow, Stiles moans and whimpers accompanying each thrust of his fingers.

“Please. Please, just fuck me. Just fuck me, Der”.

Through his lust-fogged mind Stiles hears Derek opening the condom wrapper and sigh deeply as he rolls it on. He wants to reach behind him and touch his shaft, feel the girth of it and its size. Wrap his fingers around it and when noticing he can't fit it all in one hand envelope it with his other one as well. He wants to feel its thickness opening him up, make him almost worry he's gonna split in two.

The first few inches are painful, they always are: Derek might not be overworldly big but he's certainly packing down there and every time he slips inside Stiles needs to relax, bear down and bite his lip until the head is in. It's what happens now, particularly because it's not the most convenient place to have sex despite the packet of lube and the arousal he gets from being so exposed to the elements. After the head is in though...that's when Stiles can remind himself why he craved it so much in the first place. Derek is inside him balls deep and at Stiles' nod he starts to move, thrust in and out. In and out. It's slow at first, careful but they do need to be quick in this situation. The aim is a bit off, the head of the hard cock pounding him simply caresses his prostate in the most heavenly torture sending abortive shivers up from his toes, shocking through his hips and reaching the tip of his own erection like an electric shock. Each thrust, each withdrawal forces moan after moan from his mouth, noises he can't control. Mumbling reaches his ears and with a small sense of amazement he notices it's him.

It's not the best sex they've had but Jesus if it's not the hottest. Derek's hand gripping his hips in a tight hold, his puckered hole contracting around the fat shaft sliding inside and out of him in pure abandonment. Derek slides closer, t-shirt covered chest shaping around Stiles' back, and the slight change of angle causes the wolf to groan in the brunet's ear. It's a sound so primal, so inborn in Derek that Stiles needs to close his eyes not to come right in that moment.

He's so close, though. So close. After getting used to Derek being inside of him without a barrier the rubber desensitises the feeling of being fucked a bit but it's not totally unpleasant; it's smoother and easier. Stiles doesn't know if it's the build-up, the idea of being out here in the forest in broad daylight or Derek's fat, big cock beating into him but he's about to come. He spreads the legs as wide as he can manage with the jeans around his knees and he almost brings his hands back to grab his cheeks and expose himself even further. He doesn't. He needs an anchor and right now the roughness of the bark on his fingertips, under his nails is the thing that keeps him grounded.

“Oh, my God. Der—Derek. Oh, God. Fuck me. Please, fuck me”.

“I am. Shit. You're gripping me so tight”.

“What if—oh, fuck. What if they see us? What if they find us?”.

Stiles senses Derek breath itch next to his ear. “Let them. You're mine. Let them see”.

Oh. My. God. Possessiveness is certainly a kink he didn't know he had. “Say that again”.

“You're mine. Let them see, I don't care. I want them to see. I want them to see you're mine”.

Oh God. Oh God, oh Godohgodohgod.

The orgasm hits him like a blinding light. His back snaps and he arches with the force of it, his cock pulsating and trembling as his cum sprays white on the dark bark. It's seemingly artistic in an erotic way. His insides constrict around Derek and through the condom he can feel his rod vibrate as his thrust become irregular. Slower. Deeper. He misses the sensation of Derek's come hitting his walls but he guesses they still have five hours if they leave now.

“Derek—shit”, Stiles pants out after they both regain their breaths, cheek still against the tree and hips still held by Derek.

“Yeah”.

“Who would've thought? Public sex is hot”.

“What the fuck guys?!”.

They both jump at the disgusted shout from behind them, Isaac currently standing there dumbstruck, hand on his eyes. “I'm gonna need bleach”.

Yeah. Maybe not as hot around a pack of werewolves.

[98prilla]

Seeking Oblivion

Next

Previous

AO3

...

It was… unnerving, Janus had to admit, walking through such a dead, quiet imagination. Virgil had taken the lead, eyes scanning the forest, head slightly cocked as he listened for anything approaching.

 Idly, he let his hand trail through the mist, watching it part around his fingers. It didn’t even feel like anything. Nothing did. He was used to the imagination having substance, depth, birds singing, wind blowing, the thousand little details that made it all feel real.

 Even the vines, huge as they were, didn’t seem fully really… real. There was no sound, not even their own footsteps made noise against the ground, no smell, from the earth or the vines or mist, and nothing different to see for miles. The land itself didn’t even have any character to it, it was all one endless flat plain of vines the size of redwoods and the smoky fog that obscured the ground. At least that made it easy terrain to traverse. They were making better time than anyone had anticipated, though now that they were getting deeper, it was getting harder to keep their bearings.

 He let his pace slow just a tad, falling back to walk step in step with Logan. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, and Janus didn’t want to interrupt him. So he simply waited, walking silently until Logan seemed to come back to the present, acknowledging his presence with a small nod.

 “Janus. Is there something you needed?” Logan’s voice was even and calm, and it was an absolute lie. And that was partially Janus’ own fault.

 “No. But I have something long owed you, if you’ll have it. An apology.” He replied softly enough the others wouldn’t hear, but Logan could. This wasn’t their business, but he owed Logan this.

 “For what, exactly?” Logan, not pausing in his stride, though some barely repressed emotion flashed across his face.

“A multitude of things. The most recent of which is pulling you out and replacing you yesterday.” He noticed Logan rub his neck where his cane had hooked him, wincing as he saw a flash of a bruise peeking out from under his collar. “I did not mean to hurt you, physically or otherwise, and I know I did both.” Logan looked hard at him for a moment before sighing, clasping his hands behind his back.

 “What did you hope to accomplish, in impersonating me at that juncture?”

 “I hoped they would listen, that Thomas, at least, would listen, before things went any farther. And they would have never listened to me, as I am, not then.” Logan let out a small, bitter laugh.

 “Clearly you weren’t paying attention to events before you pulled me out. Patton skipped me. I did not agree with his views, so he decided no one needed to hear them. I already minimized my presence as small as it could be without being completely gone, and even that was not enough.” He was shocked at the amount of hurt Logan was displaying now. He’d known the logical side was not alright for quite a bit, but he hadn’t realized how deeply hurt he was.

 “and I’m sorry for that as well, because I am guilty of silencing you when your opinions did not align with mine. I excluded you from the trial because I knew you would be able to much better defend Thomas, yes, but also because I was trying to show Patton, specifically, that his moral code was flawed. Regardless, that doesn’t excuse my actions, or my part in keeping you from being heard. You should be listened to, Logan. You have so much of such import to say.” They walked on in silence for a moment, Logan’s brain clearly turning over everything he’d said.

 “I understand why you took the course of action you pursued. I also understand the frustration of not being listened to or ignored when you have the solution everyone is seeking, if only they’d take you seriously enough to listen. I appreciate the apology, Janus. You… are the only one who has apologized for anything, in regards to my treatment. I… don’t fully forgive you, yet, but… but I think I will, given time.” He nodded, tugging at his gloves, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 “Of course. I look forwards to earning your forgiveness, Logan. And, for the record, I have always found your lectures interesting.” Logan’s eyes were on him again, scrutinizing him. “Also, I know when you lie, about emotions, and the having of them, specifically. If you ever do want to discuss them, not a word of it will leave the threshold of my room.” He responded seriously, making sure Logan could see he means it. “you’re the one who said repression doesn’t work, Logan.” He threw in for good measure, and finally Logan sighed, adjusting his glasses.

 “That was prudent of me, wasn’t it?” He laughed at the wry dryness of Logan’s voice, not missing the small upturn of Logan’s lips as well. “Perhaps, once this is resolved, I will take you up on that offer to… ‘spill the tea’, as it were.”  

 And that’s where Roman would have laughed. Janus could feel the absence of his booming voice, his bright laugh, in every echo of silence that passed by. He let out a long breath, trying to see anything ahead, but finding nothing new as he continued to follow Virgil’s lead, thankful for his impeccable inner compass as he kept companionable pace with Logan.

 …

 “We should stop.” Everyone looked up from their tired trudging at Virgil’s own tired voice. It was the first thing he’d said since they started walking, who knew how long ago. There didn’t seem to be any sun or day/night cycle, everything was the endless, growing gray.

 “I concur. We need a break to rest. We should try and sleep for a few hours, at least.” Logan added, wincing slightly as he sat, feet sore from more walking than he was used to. “I would advise everyone avoid the thorns. You can experiment later, Remus, when we aren’t already on a quest to rescue a creativity.” Logan added, side eyeing Remus, who was about to lick one of the thorns. Remus huffed but plopped down to the ground, spread out like a starfish as he swung his arms and legs back and forth across the ground.

 “Um… whatcha doin, kiddo?” Patton asked, looking down at Remus, who stopped his furious movement for a moment.

 “Making mist devils.” He replied, sitting up. For a moment, a perfect outline of Remus stayed imprinted in the mist on the ground, before it coalesced once again. Patton’s eyes widened and he giggled.

 “That’s pretty neat! Mind if I join?” Remus’s eyes widened and he smiled, small and hesitant, a real smile, as he nodded. Logan sighed, watching the two of them flail on the ground, devolving into giggles as they tried to make different shapes with their wild movements. It wasn’t rest, but they were relieving tension, and at least they seemed to be getting along.

 Virgil had slumped to the ground as well, knees hugged to his chest, head resting atop them. That pose always meant he was worried. So did the eye shadow he wore, already a shade darker than when they had entered.

 “What if we can’t fix whatever is wrong with Roman?” Virgil blurted suddenly, the thought clearly having been revolving through his head all day.

 Janus sat down beside him, resting a hand on his knee, feeling him just barely shaking.

 “we will.”

 “How can you be so sure? We don’t even know what he’s done to himself! I mean, look at this place! And Remus said he didn’t feel anything, nothing, from Roman! What… what if we’re too late?” He asked, quieter, voice shaking, and Logan moved to sit on Virgil's other side.

 “We have overcome all of Thomas's previous dilemmas, yes?” Virgil nodded. “And, though difficult, we have each worked through our own personal dilemmas together, correct?” once again, Virgil nodded. “and we are all still growing and changing and coming to terms with ourselves and with each other. But we have always gotten through it all by working together. It stands to reason this will be no different.” Logan finished, watching Virgil carefully, feeling a spike of pride as he saw him using the 4,7,8 technique.

 “I know. I… I’m just… I can’t stop thinking, y'know?” Virgil said, running a hand through his hair. “I'm just worried. He went through a lot, yesterday, and I know how that can mess with your head.” He mumbled, not protesting as Janus wrapped an arm around his shoulders, letting his head rest on Janus's chest as his other arms wrapped around him, reminding him of the weight and pressure of his weighted blanket. It felt like home and he nearly cried, burrowing further against him, exhaustion from the trek and the day before and all the stress in general cresting over him now that he felt safe.

 “get some rest, love. You could use it.” Janus murmured, and Virgil could feel a hand massaging his scalp. He nearly purred at the gentle touch, letting his thoughts go as he slipped into sleep.

…

“you’re rather good at that.” Logan commented, rolling his eyes as he looked over to see Remus and Patton had fallen asleep playing with the mist, and were now snuggled on top of each other, both snoring slightly. Janus followed his gaze and chuckled.

 “I had plenty of practice. His Dark Days were something to behold.”

 “Dark days? As in when he lived you as a ‘dark side' as Roman called you all?” Janus shook his head.

 “Not quite. When… when he first formed, he was afraid, so afraid, of everything. He couldn’t stop the panic attacks, he was paranoid that everything and everyone was out to get him. Being in his room for barely a minute was unbearable. It took a long time to build trust with him, longer before he would let me help him. He slowly got better at managing, at recognizing the worst of the irrational thoughts, at not isolating himself quite so much. It was hard, the hardest was getting him to believe he deserved anyone’s kindness, getting him to fight for himself.” He shivered slightly, remembering the creeping fear of Virgil's room, the voices whispering, distant screams, eyes watching him from the corners of the room, shadows moving in the edge of his vision. Virgil’s own growling, echoing voice, tempest tongue tempering every word he said with that dark reverb that somehow only grew louder until it drove you insane.

 “I’m proud of him. I’m proud of you, Janus.” His eyes widened as his gaze shot to Logan. “You’ve come very far as well. I know none of that was easy. Trusting us, wasn’t easy.” Unconsciously, Janus rubbed at his wrist, the ghost of bare skin making him sigh.

 “I suppose not. But it was necessary. If I wanted your trust, I had to give some of my own. It… is terrifying. With the little I’ve given, how easy it would be to break me down. I know that you won’t, but it still doesn’t change the power you all hold over me now.”

 “We haven’t done a very good job of showing you the benefits of trust. Recently, only the downsides have been demonstrated. None of us have been at our best for some time now.” Logan answered, sighing. Janus smiled tiredly, shifting away his extra arms, idly stroking down Virgil’s back as the side’s eyes twitched in his sleep.  

 “We should try and get some sleep. Remus is a font of energy, he’ll be up in a few hours badgering the rest of us until we get moving again.” Janus commented, Logan frowning.

 “unless Roman’s state starts influencing Remus as well. I know they are linked, but I am unsure of the depth of their bond.”

 “I hadn’t thought of that. It’s… unpredictable, how it affects him, sometimes. I’ll keep a closer eye on him just in case, I know his tells better than anyone else.” Logan nodded, smiling a bit fondly as he looked at the pile of Remus and Patton.

 “hopefully we’ll have Roman back with us soon enough we won’t have to worry about it.” Logan answered, settling on his side on the ground, watching Janus do likewise, noticing his slight shiver now that he was closer.

 Without thinking much of it, Logan moved closer, curling around Janus, who had laid down facing away from him, Virgil curled against his chest, still.

 “Is this alright? I noticed you were cold, and with our combined body heat, you should be able to reach a more optimal temperature.” He asked, ready to withdraw, but Janus shook his head after a moment.

  “It’s alright. This… is nice. It is warmer.” Janus replied after a moment of thought, and Logan shifted closer, resting his head in the crook of Janus’s neck, closing his eyes and falling asleep instantly, missing Janus' own small, happy sigh.

[starbuck]

All of Armitage’s Looks: Rated

Well, this was inevitable, wasn’t it? Being someone who very readily admits to having Armitage’s entire wardrobe memorized (and who will not apologize for how weird that is), I feel that I’m the perfect person to make this post, although perhaps not the most objective...

So, without further ado, allow me to present to you: every single one of Armitage’s Looks in chronological order: Rated.

#1 - Enjoying The Birthday -- 11/10

Unlike most named characters, Armitage does not appear until episode 4 but oh what an entrance it is... Look at that smile!!!! Actually, take an extra good look because you’ll never see it again. 

Outfit-wise, this is just his normal steward uniform but I like those boots. Probably not unique to him but they’re very nice and remind me of a pair I own. 

Bonus points for being the second person on the tackle-pile, following Tozer. 

(You could accuse me of rating too high right off the bat, but look at his smiling face again and tell me I’m wrong.)

#2 - “Mr. Armitage, what do you report?” -- 8/10

And thus we are introduced to Armitage by name. Appropriately, he is partaking in his most consistent character-defining activity: protecting Tozer from harm (which, in this case, is the Not-Bear which has just come out of nowhere and ripped part of Heather’s skull off).

I’m gonna be honest: I don’t like how this style of coat looks when it’s fully buttoned-up. I think it’s awkward and boxy (see Gibson’s coat in the mutiny-planning scene at the beginning of ep 7 for a better idea of what I mean) and this is before Armitage figured out the belt trick that corrects the problem so I’m deducting points for the coat.

Luckily for him though, his hat is of my favorite variety in the show so I’m delighted to see it despite it just being his uniform. Also loving our first look at his blue sweater (peeking out beyond his coat-sleeves) and his gray gloves.

Further points added for this being the first of many scenes where he carries a gun, endlessly confusing the fandom at large about what the hell his job is. 

#3 - tfw You’re Responsible For This -- 5/10

So I’m just gonna come right out and say that this is one of my favorite images of him in the entire show but, just as Look #1 was rated higher due to the context of the scene despite the outfit itself being average, this one’s rating, in turn, must suffer. 

Things I love about this: the hat (obviously), the fact that the coat looks worlds better just because it’s slightly unbuttoned, the delicate dusting of snow, the way his face looks at this angle.

Things I don’t love about this: literally Everything Else.

Aiding in the racist kidnapping of an innocent woman and then not owning up to it twenty minutes after your introduction is not a good look, no matter how emotionally conflicted about it you are.

#4 - Who the Fuck is This Guy? -- 6/10

October 20th, 2019 was not the day that my obsession with Armitage began, but it was the day that I took a screenshot of this exact moment because I had no idea who this man was or why we were getting a close-up of him. It would take me two more months to figure his identity out.

But, to the point, not much to say here since it’s just his normal uniform again except that this is our first proper look at his hair which I absolutely adore. Also loving the little anchor buttons on his jacket - very cute!

Once again, points deducted for the unfortunate context.

#5 - Slops! -- 7/10

This look is noteworthy for a few reasons. First of all, we see his tan slops for the first time! Slops just sort of look horrible by default unfortunately but I’m enjoying the hat + slops combo here... it works for him. Secondly, Armitage disappears for the entirety of episode 5 so this is the first time we’ve seen the man since the lashing scene. I guess it was so traumatic to witness that he had to take a break. 

He has a gun again though, so things can’t be all bad.

#6 - Big Carnivale Hours -- 8/10

I have given up on trying to figure out what the hell is going on with the marines and their costume theme. Are they knights.... with crowns? That’s all I’ve been able to figure. Who’s idea was this? (Despite having no evidence, I blame Pilkington.) So what does that make Armitage? Is he a squire? Or a knight that just doesn’t have a crown like the others because they ran out of them? Whatever the case, he’s clearly a part of their theme despite not being a marine himself which I think is adorable regardless.

Speaking of adorable, let’s just forget everything that happens for the rest of this episode and appreciate how he’s hanging out with Tozer and Heather. Isn’t that nice? God I’m distressed.

Taking a look at the costume itself, you’ll see that it’s essentially a cut-up burlap sack and a sheet over his regular uniform but realism is not the goal here and the DIY vibe is actually quite nice imo.

#7 - Enter: The Belt -- 10/10

The belt has arrived on the scene! Note its success in not only making the coat itself more appealing but making the coat + slops combo work against all odds.

We really get it all here: belt, (unbuttoned) coat, hat, welsh wig, gloves, and slops! What more could I possibly ask for in an outfit? It’s both stylish and practical.

And plus, I like his attitude in this scene - optimistic-leaning realism about the dangers ahead. I can get behind that.

Overall, no complaints from me - this is a perfect look.

#8 - tfw You Allowed This -- 7/10

This is a Significant Look mostly because we see his hair again, for the first time since episode 4! It’s a bit longer and more unkempt but still maintains a pleasing shape overall. Honestly, I think it looks good this way and its a pity we didn’t get to see it more in the transition stages (assuming it was steadily growing out since ep 4 like most people’s). Additionally, there’s a bit of stubble going on here which I respect.

Rated lower than it might be simply because, as has been established, slops on their own are just kinda ugly. I don’t have a lot to work with here outfit-wise. His face is lovely but this screenshot is a sepia-toned nightmare.

A bonus point for his desperate “please explain this clearly illegal thing we’re doing in a way that makes sense to Little” glance at Tozer, who is already on it.

#9 - Agony -- 8/10

It took me awhile, even after becoming aware of who Armitage was, to appreciate how truly miserable he looks in this scene. And I mean, why wouldn’t he be miserable? Tozer, a man who Armitage risked his own life to drag to safety at Carnivale, is about to be executed for something that’s arguably just as much Armitage’s fault and there’s not a thing he can do about it.

So... that’s depressing.

But, looking at the outfit itself, we see that it’s pretty similar to some past Looks. In fact, it’s identical to what he was wearing when the Tuunbaq attacked Heather with the exception of the belt which is, of course, a new addition since then! And look at the difference a belt can make... You almost don’t notice that the coat is buttoned up all the way.

#10 - The Same Outfit But Now He’s Saving Tozer So Its Cooler -- 9/10

Y’all ever think about the fact that, when things went to shit, Armitage’s first instinct was to grab a gun, find Tozer, and rescue him? I mean you probably don’t but I do. Constantly. 

Obviously I love this part and the outfit is still solid (note how well the belt shows off his figure!) but it loses out on being a perfect 10/10 because he must have dropped his hat while picking up the gun so we never see it again. A necessary sacrifice but one that I mourn nonetheless. 

RIP Armitage’s cool hat, ??-1848.

#11 - The Blue Sweater -- 8/10

It’s warming up so that means we finally get a look at the lovely layers that have been hiding under Armitage’s coat. It’s important to me to bring special attention to the sweater because, although (as I’ve mentioned) he has it on all the way back in ep 4, this is one of only two scenes in the entire show where we get a proper look at it. 

Further, not only is he wearing the blue sweater, but he also has a blue vest on over it! Now, I’ll admit, these aren’t exactly complimentary shades of blue but it still works for me. 

Note also that the belt he had around his coat has been repurposed to aid in holding up his slops-pants over his normal pants (which are held up by the suspenders). Does this man’s resourcefulness ever cease?

As much as I’d love to give a higher rating for the blue sweater, I can’t ignore the new beard which is... it isn’t... it’s Not Great. I don’t have as much animosity towards it as I used to but I can’t pretend that I love it.

#12 - Let Us Fly These Deadly Waters! -- 9/10

I’m not sure why but I’ve always found this outfit very appealing. The tan slops-pants go nicely with the white shirt and blue vest. It’s a solid look - I’d wear this irl honestly. 

And bonus points for his trying to convince Tozer to leave Hickey, even though he was ultimately unsuccessful. 

(P.S. - yes, the title for this one is a Moby-Dick reference... Did you really think I would make it through this entire post without one?) 

...and now, last but not least, I present to you my absolute favorite Armitage Look™... all the other times I said some other outfit was my favorite, I was lying because what I am about to show you is truly the cream of the crop. Without further ado:

#13 - Kidnapping is Bad So At Least Look Good Doing It -- 12/10

Are y’all seeing this? Are you SEEING this????? It is episode fucking 10!! Everyone is dying!!! And yet here’s Armitage waltzing up in his best outfit of the entire show. What the fuck!!!!!!! 

Do I even need to explain why this is exceptional? Just look at it! Look at how the vest is buttoned up and tucked into his slops-pants! Look at the suspenders over top which match the slops-pants in color! Look at the gun and keyring that look like they were made to accessorize this outfit specifically! Heck, even his hair and beard look much better from this angle.

Now, I’m not trying to discount the fact that Armitage was absolutely miserable throughout this entire episode, and understandably so, but, even with that in mind, I can’t bring myself to rate this look any lower. It’s just That Perfect.

If one must inevitably die horribly in the arctic, this is an excellent outfit to die in.

__ 

Well, that’s that! Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this! I’m glad that my ridiculous opinions about Armitage’s wardrobe finally came in handy for something other than my own amusement. 

[moonchildsaurora]

The Hercules of a Weapons Master/Mechanic

»»—— Crew Member #8 of Space Pirates ATEEZ ——««

all aboard The Perihelion, welcome to the co-pilot’s log system! here you’ll be able to access the crew’s profiles should you wish to read about their journeys: (no nsfw content)

[CAPTAIN] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

“so you want me…to break them? As in literally or figuratively?”  

is the baby of the crew but actually the eldest in his own family

epitome of ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’. With a well-grounded and balanced mindset along with a great sense of independence and self-discipline

is a native Draerair born and raised on Corebos, a relatively peaceful planet where several clans co-exist across the different regions specialising in agricultural and metal work

[database file: Draerairs are shape-shifters by ancestral blood, however not every individual are born with the ability to shift into their bestial forms (though they retain some of their inhumane strength and traits). Each clan’s lineage has a specific beast they’re associated with. Individuals with the ability to shift can do so at will, be it partially or fully]

Jongho and his family are descendants of the Silverclaw clan, their associated beast is that of a bear. He’s the only one currently in his family that was born with the shifters ability, his grandmother was the previous individual with the ability

in his human form his hair is dark like the coals in his father’s workshop, honey tanned skin from hours of work under the sun and a gentle shade of hazel for eyes        

when partially shifted he gains a good 2 and half feet in height as bones and muscle mass expands, nails are elongated into claws, canines sharpened and eyes become more of an amber gold colour. Faint markings appear around his eyes as well as down his arms. Fur of black-brown shade emerge the closer he shifts into his beastial form

his strength is renowned throughout his clan, at the tender age of 5 he shocked the souls out of his parents after they found that he’s managed to bend the metal bars of his youngling playpen simply to get out so he could go on a mini adventure to find an afternoon snack

“oh sweet Zeus, we’ve lost the baby!”

they found out very quickly that he particularly liked snacking on fruits especially apples and sometimes would have to hide extras from him, otherwise they’d have none left

Jongho had always looked up to his father and his speciality with weapons forging. During his youngling years he’d be allowed to sit at a safe distance and observe, wide eyes with wonder when he looked at his father welding ambthanite metal together or carving a blade from crystalline emeyl

it was no surprise that Jongho followed in his footsteps and begun his apprenticeship by his 12th summer, his immense strength was a sure advantage when it came to being efficient and how easily some techniques were mastered 

“who needs a machine when you can just bend it with your bare hands?”

his younger siblings adored watching their older brother (it felt like déjà vu) build anything as small as a hunter’s dagger to fixing up parts of visiting ships. It’s also an extra treat for them whenever Jongho would crush fruity snacks single-handedly, because he loves hearing their joyous laughter and applause

The Perihelion had actually made a supply stop within the region that Jongho resided in to trade for food and energy cells. Under the recommendation from some of the market farmers, the crew were led to the Chois’ smithing workshop to fix up minor damages on the ship’s hull and to assess if any defence upgrades were available to be installed on such short notice  

“…I can’t tell if that’s Hercules or a beast hammering away in there”

the expressions on half the crew’s faces were priceless once they met Jongho, right after they saw him heave a 7 tonne slab of frerhil iron [database file: a common metal for heavy duty spears used by barbarians & warmasters] on to the bench without batting an eyelid

“you sure are one strong baby!”

“MINGI SHUT YO-“

“oh don’t worry, I get that. A lot”

and if it wasn’t for the overly toothy smile that Jongho sent their way that made the crew slightly nervous, it would’ve been the way his muscles flexed tauntingly as he gripped Mingi’s hand in a handshake during introductions Seonghwa nearly sweated out his worries just wearily watching that exchange

“I think what our lovely tech engineer meant was that you have a bab-ahh youthful face, yeah, youthful appearance! Not that you’re a baby at age”

“of course, I just passed my 15th summer not too long ago actually. So what can I do for you lot today?”

Hongjoong didn’t even try to hide how impressed he already was, he hadn’t come across too many shifters before and knew very little of their nature and abilities so this was great insight for him. He couldn’t care less with Wooyoung snickering in the background when his chest puffed out proudly after Jongho complimented his ship

Jongho was genuinely amazed that The Perihelion had managed to hold out until now (after hearing brief stories as to how the damages were acquired), without even having a ship’s mechanic for regular maintenance. His awe elevated when Hongjoong told him that he, a self-taught, was the one who worked and spruced the ship up from its near-scrap stage

Jongho’s father made similar comments when he came round to check up on his son and the workshop, even helping a bit with fitting in newer protective panels around the engines and windows. It wasn’t anything fancy, but Jongho did promise should the crew make another stop by in the future he’d have some better upgrades for them

it wouldn’t be till nearly 4 years later where their paths would cross once again in the city of Acreon. Jongho having made the decision to leave his home planet to start living life a little more, though he’d still pick up smithing-mechanic work along the way of his travels. Probably not the most ideal way to reunite with the crew, especially amidst a bar brawl of all things    

having not fought in his entire life (unless you count sand wrestling during his youngling days), Jongho was running entirely on pure adrenaline when he recognised Hongjoong and swiftly grabbed him out of the way – seconds before a stool came smashing down

“what th-OH hey! It’s you!”

the crew witnessed Jongho partially shift that time, almost bowling the entire crowd over with his solid mass to get Wooyoung and San out of the fray. Throwing them over his shoulders and bolting with the rest out the back door of the bar (Wooyoung’s shrieking could be heard down the street)

“thank you for that, really, we owe you one”

“do your evenings out usually end up like this? Never would’ve pinned you lot as the type to throw punches at a bar”

“listen here, that slimy loathsome spawn of a troll deserved it for inappropriate treatment of the dancer”

well at least Jongho couldn’t fault them for having good morals and standing up for it, though he wouldn’t be able to live it down come the following day when news spread throughout the city of ‘a beast from the nether realms’ being involved in the incident at The Illusion he dreaded getting an earful from his parents should his family ever catch wind of the news

Hongjoong invited him to tag along with the crew for the rest of their time in Acreon (highkey hoping this time Jongho would stick around more permanently), which allowed him time to evaluate the state of The Perihelion since it’s been a long while

Jongho officially became a member of the crew after he convinced Hongjoong to head over to Vostrilles, a place he knew had supplies of the latest ship weaponry and mechanical resources, and stuck by long enough to help with the upgrades that the crew pretty much adopted him into their wholesome chaotic family

he grew to thoroughly enjoy their company and now have the luxury of being doted on by his older sibling figures (he’d still deck anyone who dares call him a baby with the exception of mumma Seonghwa)

“watch your language! There are children on board”

the crew realised just how much they needed a proper weapon smith/mechanic on board after a few close-calls with a rival crews – Jongho’s newly installed point-defence canons had given the ship an advantage on its durability and defensive structure that it could withstand enemy attacks enough to make an escape

no one would openly admit that they cannot stay angry at Jongho for longer than 2 minutes, even when he was being in an argumentative mood

not to mention that everyone is extremely protective of their baby bro  

ends up being closest to Mingi, Wooyoung and Yeosang, the latter having a calming presence when he needs some downtime and he appreciates the other chaotic duo when they join in singing random duets with him (a habit he does whenever he’s in his workshop)

recently Jongho found some quality metal paint, he pitched the idea of giving The Perihelion a proper makeover – Hongjoong and others could customise the colour palette they’d like and finally give the ship the glo-up she deserves (no one noticed Yeosang’s little character doodles he so sneakily painted at random spots/corners of the ship hehet)              

(moodboard made with love, by @s1ardusk​ ♡)

[seriouslyhooked]

When We Collide (Part 4)

Emma Swan has always known one thing: trust no one but yourself. Unfortunately she forgot her one rule and now she’s paying for it. One bad decision led her to the monstrous ‘Crocodile’ a mobster in New York who goes by the name Gold. Hope seems lost until she meets another person in this underworld, Killian Jones. Despite the place they find each other, a true love blossoms, and they manage to get away. But what will happen when Emma discovers who Killian really is? Will love prevail? Um, yeah, I’m writing this, so duh – it’s all love all the time. Fic features motorcycles, hot guys in leather cuts, and a bit of action/drama. Will end happily, and despite the first chapter, will be light on angst. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3. Available on FanFiction Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for waiting during my little hiatus from writing this fic. I have been absolutely swamped with the end of program madness, but I am hoping I have now turned a corner and that I can do some writing more regularly. I miss getting to write these fluffy fics when the real world calls, but I am happy to report my muse got chatty again, and with a brief window of time I managed to write this next chapter of ‘When We Collide.’ We find Emma and Killian still en route to their new life, and there’s not a ton of action (which is coming later on), but some conversations need to be had for sure. Not to fear, nothing too too angsty in this chapter, and hopefully the surrounding cuteness is appreciated by all. Thanks so much for reading and hope you all enjoy!

No one ever felt so good in the middle-of-nowhere Nebraska.

Not to say that people didn’t have happy lives in this state, or that there weren’t parts of this place that held beauty and meaning and excitement, but it was a commonly known fact when taking a cross country trek that Nebraska was a seemingly endless, barren span of driving. There were no trees, no hills, no real sights to see. It was just two lanes of highway going one way and two lanes of road on the other side. Occasionally there were billboards, and those made for a laugh. Some were more expected, reading ‘Gas Ahead!’ or ‘Next Exit 82 Miles,’ but others were a wild contradiction. Everything out here was either about Jesus or sex shops and that was not an exaggeration. Nearly every billboard they passed warned about the dangers of the devil or openly bragged about having the best stash of adult toys in the Midwest. It was absolute craziness, and in the meantime, there was just nothing out here at all. Just scraggly, heat ridden crops, miles of empty fields, and a horizon that stretched on for what felt like forever.

Yet while many people may not like the nothingness, Killian and Emma were of a very different mind. Sure, it had been a long few days of riding, but for Killian that meant having Emma curled up against him for hours on end. It felt damn good to have her holding him tight as they headed down the highway, and when they stopped to stretch their legs or use the facilities, they’d fallen into a pattern of shifting over the reins. In the downtime and when they wanted to get off the main road, Killian was showing Emma more about his bike, letting her get a feel for the machine and showing her how to captain it herself.

It was questionable how legal this was, of course. Emma had no license, but some of these states further out west didn’t pay any mind to that. Besides, there were no lawmen out anywhere. In their five hours of driving today they’d passed nothing and nobody but 18 wheelers making the trip from one coast to another. As such, Killian didn’t have much fear in letting Emma really ride, and it had only taken about an hour to learn the truth: his Swan was a natural and also a speed demon.

“I can’t get over how awesome this is,” Emma said, pulling off her helmet and shaking out her hair in a way designed to distract and entice any man. Even with a backdrop of nothingness, on a deserted road off highway where he’d let her spread her wings, Emma was stunning. Tie that in with the red leather jacket she’d been wearing all trip, her dark wash jeans, and the boots he knew she needed for the road, and he was done for.

They were only an hour or so from their next stop, a quaint, but fully fortified home in the city (a generous word given how small the place was) of North Platt, but Killian was in no rush. How could he be when Emma’s eyes were radiating the excitement of the moment, and her hair, despite just being in her helmet seemed windswept and wild. She was bloody gorgeous in all ways, but in the throws of something that thrilled her, she was entirely too much for his heart to handle.

Unable to stop himself, he pulled her flush against him for a searing kiss and he loved the way she leaned into it and seemed just as ravenous as he was. Instantly the rush of excitement Emma was feeling on the bike was channeled into their embrace, and Killian groaned at the contact. Her hips arched against him as her hands pulled him close. She nipped and licked and tasted him with the same feverish need that he had for her and it hiked his desperation to hold her close and sate the rising need between them. She was driving him mad, tempting him in ways nothing ever had before. He had half a mind to fuck her out here on the bike. The thought of it pulled a growl low from his chest, but the voice in the back of his head told him no. This wasn’t right. Not out here. Deserted as it was, cars were still passing and someone could see, and he’d never risk that with someone so precious as Emma. Instead he had to calm down and pull away, and when they drew back, her face was kissed with pink, not just from the ride, but from his attentions. The lust between them clung as hard to her as it did to him. Her green eyes were dark now, her breathing labored, and she wet her lips absentmindedly, causing a tug in his gut that wanted him to say fuck the rest of the world and take her here.

“I’m definitely adding a bike to my list of things to get,” she said breathily, her mouth curving up into a knowing grin. She was fully aware of how worked up he was now, and she shifted ever so slightly against him, rubbing up against his hard length barely contained by these damn tight pants. “I need more of that in my life.”

“Consider it done, love,” he said, his voice so gruff it was unrecognizable. “When we finally get home, you choose the make and it’s yours.”

“You don’t have to do that, Killian,” Emma said, suddenly more serious, like it had never dawned on her that he would gift her such a thing. “A bike is a big deal, and I’m perfectly capable of buying my own. I’ll just find a job and save for a while. I’ve done it before.”

“Aye, love, there’s no doubt you have and that you can. You can do anything you set your brilliant mind to,” he agreed, taking the hand that was placed against his heart and kissing it tenderly. He watched her swallow harshly but her eyes never left his face as she took him in with full consideration. “If it means a lot to you that you do it on your own, so be it. I will never stand in the way of what you wish. I only meant that you’re not on your own any more Emma, and I need – no, damn it, I want - to take care of you, as much as you’ll let me.”

A soft and understanding smile tugged at Emma’s lips once more that warmed into a true smirk as she quietly thought to herself. He bit his tongue, barely refraining from asking what exactly she was thinking, but he didn’t want to overpower her. He may have the urge to share absolutely everything with Emma, and to care for her, provide for her, and protect her all the days of his life, but he would not crowd her. He couldn’t bear to pressure her or make her feel suffocated. This wasn’t about taking control from her for his own gain, it was just… well he couldn’t really explain. He was just so damn protective and so desirous to make sure she had everything she wanted and more. And it only felt fair to that part of himself, for she was truly the master of their fates, holding his heart and hopes in her delicate hands.

“Someday I’m going to really push you,” she said and his brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m going to push you past the perfect gentleman you always tend to be.”

“I’m just trying to be what you deserve, love,” he said, his voice betraying his concern at her characterization. Did she think he was faking with her? He wasn’t, he was just trying not to fuck everything up before it could really take flight.

“I know,” she agreed, running her fingers along his brow and pushing back the hair that was growing longer each day and starting to fall across his face. The lightness of her touch made sparks fly under his skin. The fondness in her voice swept away his fears, and left only her truth in its wake. “And I love that, I really do. It means the world to me how much you care. But I’m dying to see what happens when you just let go. When you follow your instincts, those baser ones, the ones that run just a shade or two darker than this.”

Her words were an invitation that a part of him craved. She was right after all, he did want more. He wanted to claim her and be so intertwined that he didn’t know where he ended and she began. He hated any kind of boundary between them, craved every moment that he held her close, and he wanted to give her everything she could ever want. In is ideal world, Emma did only what she loved and what she wanted, and as flashes of what that might look like came to mind he felt a yearning for more. Marriage, babies, a family. A whole long and lovely life where he was her man and she was his everything.

“We’ll get there,” she said, pulling him back from his thoughts and kissing him gently again. “Every day we get closer, you know?”

He could only nod and assure her that he knew exactly what she meant. As they came back on the bike with him once again driving, he allowed those thoughts to linger. Things were so good between them right now, so much more than he’d ever imagined. Every day they had only further cemented the bond between them, and the journey out here had been amazing even if they were on the run.

Well, technically they weren’t really ‘running’, for there was no one with the ability to chase them. Killian had been assured that the Crocodile and his strongest fixers were all in custody, and he’d told Emma as much a few days prior. Some of that information had been disclosed by untraceable messages from Will, but there were also numerous stories in the press. Even in the far reaches of Nebraska nothingness, the Crocodile’s capture had made the papers. He was one of the most wanted man in the country and right now he was in jail, rotting in a cell, despite his army of crooked cops purchased to keep him free. He was no doubt furious at this unexpected downfall, but none the wiser of their actions. Everyone not arrested in the organization had since dispersed, all of the higher ups in Gold’s command and business had gone to ground and Will promised that their case was solid and now even stronger in the face of Gold’s takedown. The bust was clean and they had at least a little while where the monster would be held captive without even a chance of bond or bail or trial.

Only with that confidence that no one suspected what he’d done and that Gold was very much occupied could Killian breathe easy, and even then it was only because of Emma. She always brought him strength, even when she didn’t realize all the parts at play. That peace was one of the most beautiful gifts she gave him, and it carried through not just the rest of their ride, but also through their arrival at the safe house, their making some dinner, and then falling into bed together. Hours passed, and in all that time Killian felt nothing short of elation. He was complete, with this beautiful woman here in his arms, and he couldn’t imagine how he’d ever gotten this lucky. Loving her and having her love in return was the honor of his life, no question about it.

There was only one thing that Killian felt weighing on him right now, and it was one last truth he had to tell before they got back home. He wouldn’t call this revelation a secret per se, because it wasn’t, not really. It was more an oversight in his disclosures to Emma. The truth about where they were going and the life that awaited them had not been fully explained, and though he’d been putting off that conversation for a few days, he finally felt like it might be time to go there. As if she could tell he had something on his mind, Emma glanced over her bare shoulder to him and smiled, looking like a goddess fallen to this world just for him. He worried about dulling that smile, but in his heart he knew she’d accept this. He just had to man up and tell her already.

“Take a walk with me, love,” he pleaded and she blinked up at him from where she lay in this bed, her jade eyes cloudy with lust and confusion. She no doubt believed they were in for the night, and he had too when he drew her in here to ravish her fully, but he had a sudden urge for a change of scene. What he wanted to tell her demanded something different, and he had an idea of how to cushion this could-be blow.

“Now?” she asked.

“Aye, Swan,” he chuckled. “I’ve something to tell you.”

“Say no more,” Emma said, pushing up and jumping out of bed. His body tightened at the sight of her creamy skin and her beautiful body, but he couldn’t get sidetracked. There was time for that later, for now he too had to throw something on and head out to this moment he’d been avoiding for some time.  

A few minutes later they were out in the grounds of the property, further away from the house they were staying in, and nowhere near any kind of neighbors. Frogs croaked out their evening tune as the gentle hum of insects sounded out in the night. A subtle breeze washed over the overgrown grasses out front, but here, behind the home was a well worn patch of land that was soft and stable. They naturally found a place to sit, and lay out, neither of them afraid to be directly on the ground. Out here, under the big black sky dotted with stars so very far away, it felt the opposite of New York, and, Killian supposed, it was as good a place as any to tell Emma the whole truth.  

“Whatever it is, it’ll be okay, Killian,” Emma said, squeezing his hand. “You can tell me anything.”

“I know, love. I know. It’s just… hard to know where to begin exactly.”

“Well, who is it about?”

“My brothers,” Killian said and Emma nodded in recollection.

“Liam… who we’re heading to now. Wait, you said brothers? Like more than one?”

Killian nodded. “Aye, I’ve more than one. Liam is my only biological brother, my only living kin. But the others, well there were eight at last count. Could be more by now.”

“Eight?” she squeaked, followed closely by the question, “And wait, there could be more? What does that even mean?”

“They’re my club brothers, Emma.”

“Club brothers,” she replied, still not following. “What club?”

“Emma, I…” he trailed off but then just put it out there, though perhaps not in the clearest way. “I’m a patched in member of the Land Pirates, Big Sur.”

“I’m sorry,” Emma said, truly apologetic for her continued lack of understanding. “I’m not getting this. Should I know these… Land Pirates?”

“It’s an MC. A motorcycle club.” Finally some sort of recognition crossed her features, and just as he’d worried there was concern written all over her face.

“Please tell me motorcycle ‘club’ is different from motorcycle ‘gang,’” Emma begged after a few moments of taking in his words. “I meant what I said, Killian, I’m with you all the way, but if we’re just going from one gang to another I -,”

“It’s definitely different,” he assured her, pulling her into his arms. “My brothers aren’t involved in anything illegal. At least not professionally. I can’t speak to the past or what happens when things get dodgy, but that’s hardly the norm. The club owns a number of businesses in our small town and the ones around them. It was different when my Dad was leading, but Liam changed all that.”

Killian proceeded to fill Emma in on the whole truth, about how he’d been born into his father’s world but how his mother took him and Liam away when they were small. They moved back to her country for a while, for it took an ocean apart for Meera Jones to feel free of her husband. Much of his life across the pond was something that Emma knew about. In their times together preciously, he’d shared countless memories of his life with his Mum with her. What Emma didn’t realize was that their mother’s death, which came when he was ten, pushed him and Liam back to his father once more. There were no other relatives to take them, and so they’d been shipped back to America and were raised in the club, seeing a far less ethical life than the one Liam was now trying to make.

In its heyday, or as Killian considered it the darkest times, the Land Pirates ran anything and everything to make a buck. Guns, drugs, women. It was just as bad as Gold’s work but without the same rate of success or the appearance of grandeur. His father was an adrenaline junky, addicted to danger, money, women and booze. All of it was constantly present, and only when Liam and Killian enlisted did either of them get free of it. The military became a lifeline for them both, to leave that life behind. War was preferable to the moral corruption that resided in the MC.

“It sounds truly horrible,” Emma affirmed when he’d told her this, and he knew she understood the gravity of his statement. He’d also confessed how his time in the service had been brutal, so to say he preferred that to life before painted a bleak picture to be sure. “But I don’t understand. If that was what this club stood for, if it was as bad as it sounds, then why would you, uh what was the term, patch in?”

“Aye,” he said, impressed that she recalled that small phrase in the midst of much larger revelations. “My father died some years back, and the club pretty much crumbled in his absence. We were glad for that, at least I was. The Jones men had done enough damage. The world was better off without our whole bloody mess. But my father’s demise didn’t come without consequences. The club’s absence left a hole for others to try and come in. Other crews saw the money to be made in our part of the world and they pounced on the chance, and these men were just as malicious as Brennan but with even better follow through. Before long, the rest of the town was being taken over. People with no ties to the club were put in danger and told they needed to submit or give up the homes they’d known. Liam saw that and couldn’t stand for it. So he made a choice. He took over as Pres and rebuilt from the ashes.”

“I can’t imagine that was easy.”

It wasn’t. The fighting had been rough, and Killian and Liam, as well as the other men Liam had recruited had not been on the right side of the law even if they were preserving true justice. He wouldn’t burden Emma with the details unless she asked, but she seemed to take his agreement as enough, pivoting to another thought instead of lingering in the past.

“You make it all sound so…” He held his breath, afraid of what she would say. “Honorable.”

“My brother would be proud to hear you say that, love. He’s a man driven by honor at all times and in all ways. He would never feel peace unless we did something to mend the scars of Brennan’s time here.”

“It must have been hard to live in the shadow of your father’s misdeeds,” Emma said, running her hands along his arm. “For both of you.”

“Aye,” he agreed, not bothering to deny that. “But of the two of us Liam has always been the better man.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Emma said vehemently.

“You should,” Killian said, not trying to be down on himself, but stating a fact he’d truly believed his whole life.

“I won’t,” she countered and in spite of himself Killian laughed, pressing a kiss to her temple as he kept a hold on her. They lay together breathing each other in for some time, before Emma posed a question they’d always danced around but never explicitly broached. “So if the club is better now, why did you leave them? Why not stay with your family and help them make good?”

“You mean why in the world was I wrapped up with Gold in New York?” She nodded. “It’s simple really. Liam’s route to peace was in facing the demons of our father, but I was much more tied to scars of a different kind. You see, Gold stole from me well before I made it to New York. He killed the only woman I ever loved.” Emma looked up at him, shocked and saddened for his pain as he clarified. “My mother.”

“Oh Killian,” she said hugging him close, and though he expected her to ask for all the details of his mother’s death, she didn’t. She just held him, running her hands along his body with affection and support.

It brought tears to his eyes, to have a woman who accepted him this way. Who had heard so much, but was still beside him. Her patience was a sign of her strength and her trust, and whether she knew it or not she was healing him and his scars more than anything else ever could. He knew he’d come to tell her the whole story of his Mum someday, and soon, but the fact that he didn’t have to do so right now meant the world. Disclosing the sins of his father was enough for one night. The terrible tale of losing his mother could wait.

He couldn’t be exactly sure how long they remained out there, taking in the deep night sky as they quietly remained together. All Killian knew was that Emma stayed pressed against him, holding tight and centering him with the sound of her soft breathing and the steady beat of her heart. It beat out in time with his, a gentle rhythm despite the pain of both their pasts. How he had ever lived without this he did not know, but he knew he’d never see another day without her. Because no matter what came next, he was hell bent on staying with his Swan, building their life together and making new memories that healed any and all darkness from the past.

Post-Note: So there we have it. Just another little glimpse into this journey out west. I am enjoying these kind of glimpses into Emma and Killian, and next chapter will bring a final trip moment that will mean a lot for our story. After that we get to see Emma meet Killian’s brothers and that should be fun too. Anyway, thanks to all of you for reading and I would love to hear what you think! Sending you all my best and hope you have a great rest of your weekend!

[dreamonhunters]

please don’t drop me home (because i haven’t got one anymore)

no trigger warnings!

it’s honestly just some soft mavin for the @rtwritingcommunity secret sunshine 2020 ! this was a gift for the lovely @griffinoliverwrites ♡

read it here on ao3!

His eyes open.

Bright sky above him, cornflower blue instead of crimson. There’s a few puffy clouds. No threat of rain, fortunately. A light breeze cools his face. Even after all these years, he’ll never quite adjust to waking up without a thin sheen of sweat covering his entire body. How he managed for so many years is a mystery.

Michael stretches, yawns, listens to the way his jaw clicks. For a moment, he’s content to just sit there. Listen to the birds in the trees. There’s a river nearby - he could’ve sworn he passed it last night, now that he thinks about it - and in the back of his mind he makes a mental note. Head in that direction. His water supply iswas running low.

That train of thought brings him back to reality. There’s still some bread in his bag, left over from the last village he camped at. He’ll eat that as he walks. Won’t be long before he finds something he can kill or another settlement.

And so he gets to his feet. No point in wasting daylight, and Michael hates to stay in one place for too long. Takes a moment to stretch out his cramped limbs, of course. Shoulders the battered leather satchel he’d thrown together and fiddles with the straps. Does this every morning, almost ritual like.

In his right hand, he carries a sword. Distinctive. It’s stolen, but he doesn’t bother himself with fine details like that. Bright blue blade, glittering and dancing in the morning sunlight. The weight is familiar, comforting.

Fortunately, it’s still cool. Dew-spun grass beneath his feet as he walks, a gentle birdsong serenading him. Immediately, he makes a move toward water. Where there’s water, there’s life, or something like that. And life means food.

Michael only stops once, to gather more water. One day too long in the desert can really fuck you up. He learnt that the hard way.

For the most part, he just walks. Hopes to find the edge of this forest before sundown, because he’s getting just a little tired of nothing but trees stretching on for miles. Easy food, sure, but it’s a little tiring on the eyes. Besides, if he can find a nice cave, that’s a useful base for at least a few days. Means he won’t have to carry his shit around for a while.

The day passes uneventfully. For once, Michael’s peaceful. Serene, almost. He makes better progress when he’s in a good mood. Doesn’t drag his feet so much. The sun keeps him warm as he travels. Brings out the little sun freckles high on his cheekbones and smattered across his nose. It’s been a few days since he last saw another human, and he’s more than happy to keep it that way for a little longer. The occasional animal is more than enough company for him.

The sun is low on the horizon before he reaches a clearing. A few horses graze peacefully at a distance, and just behind him appears to be some form of settlement. Stonework, definitely, and smoke curling up from what looks like a chimney. Michael’s heart leaps. That’s a few days of rest.

Well, a few days of rest if he can strike up a bargain with one of the villagers. That’s a lot easier said than done.

He’ll get there before sundown, and hopefully someone will be kind enough to take him in. May not have the charming aspect down just yet, but he can threaten his way into someone’s household for a night or two.

As he approaches, Michael straps his sword to his back. Doesn’t need to get off on the wrong foot by making himself look threatening.

Even at this hour, there’s a few people milling around. A young man leads his horse through the village, horseshoes softly clinking against the cobbles. There’s a small group of women chattering by a well, and a pair of children play close by. Already, Michael can sense that he won’t have to work too hard for a soft place to rest his head.

“You look lost,” a voice chimes behind him, in an accent he doesn’t quite recognise. Whirls around to face a taller boy, deep scowl already marring his features. Gives him a quick once-over. Probably about his age. Tousled hair, sandy blond in colour. Clad in various shades of green, soft fabrics making up comfortable garments. He’s lean, but Michael knows better than to underestimate people. The smile on his face is bright and friendly, considering Michael is a complete stranger.

“I’m not,” Michael answers. Maybe a tad too quickly. Because technically he isn’t, but he’s not exactly familiar, either.

“Nice to meet you,” the boy continues, seemingly undeterred. “I’m Gavin. Are you new here?”

Michael shrugs. “Just passing through.”

“Where are you staying?” Gavin presses. Usually Michael wouldn’t appreciate being pushed for so much information, but this boy seems...genuine.

He hesitates for a moment. Lying probably won’t do him any favours here. “I’m not.”

There’s confusion in those bright green eyes. Tilts his head to one side, as if looking at Michael from a slightly different angle will make the pieces fall into place. “Why are you here?”

“Passing through,” Michael repeats, somehow managing to keep a veneer of politeness to his voice. “Just planning to spend the night.

“You can stay with me then,” Gavin declares, and he’s just a little too excitable for Michael’s tastes already. They’ll be lucky if the house is still standing tomorrow.

Still, it’s an offer, and Gavin hasn’t even asked for anything in return yet. He’d be foolish to turn it down.

After a moment’s hesitation, he responds. “Thanks,” Michael murmurs, managing a tight-lipped smile. Not ungrateful, just...wary. Gavin isn’t a threat, not quite, judging from his lanky body and trusting smile. He’s just a little too enthusiastic.

Gavin doesn’t wait to see if Michael has anything else to say. Turns on his heel, glancing over his shoulder briefly to call to him. “This way, love!”

If Gavin notices his reluctance, he stays quiet about it. He’s chattering away aimlessly before Michael’s even started moving. Not that he knows what about. Just follows a close distance behind, trying to get his bearings with the area just in case he needs to make a run for it.

“...so I’ve been here most of my life, really, and the people are lovely. You’ll like it here,” he rambles, and Michael finally catches onto his stream of conversation. “I can introduce you to my neighbours tomorrow, and-”

“What did you not get about ‘passing through’?” Michael cuts in, eyes narrowed. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Gavin stops almost immediately, pouting. “But you can’t just leave, Micoo-”

“Michael.”

“That’s what I said,” he whines petulantly. “Anyway, you can’t just leave. Where are you even going?”

“Have you seriously never met a traveller before?”

“Well, yeah, of course I have. I’ve lived here all my life, give or take, and we get a lot of-”

“Cut to the chase.”

“I’ve met lots of travellers before.”

“So then why can’t I leave?” Michael repeats, exasperation slowly creeping into his voice.

“Because…” Gavin trails off, searching for the rest of the sentence. “Because I think you’d be missing out.”

“This village isn’t exactly big, Gavin,” he points out.

“No, but the people are nice, and we have plenty of food, and I should tell you this area is really safe compared to most of the forest, and-”

Michael cuts him off again. “You talk way too much.”

“Do I?”

He seems genuinely surprised. Michael almost feels bad for this poor, oblivious boy. Painfully unaware of himself. But, and he has to remind himself of this, it’s also his ticket to a comfortable bed. A free one, at that. Can’t insult the lad too much.

“Yeah. Whatever,” he resigns, shaking his head. His intonation is a little too flat for a question, and it’s more of a statement when he speaks again. “Where’s your house.”

“Just round this corner, love,” Gavin pipes up, completely unphased by Michael’s brief irritation. Or maybe he’s just too dense to notice. Michael can’t rule that one out just yet.

He keeps his mouth shut as Gavin lets him in, casting an appreciative eye over his temporary lodging. It’s sweet. Homely. Has that rustic charm stonework buildings tend to. A few torches light up the interior, casting a warm glow over the room. The wooden floor is clearly worn from years of use, but it’s partially covered by thick rugs in hues of forest green and deep emerald. There’s a flower pot in the window. A few chests line the far wall, small labels detailing the contents of each one, and a furnace burns low at the end of the row.

A large table dominates the room, far bigger than anyone who lives alone would ever need, and instantly Michael can tell Gavin hasn’t been alone this whole time. There’s more than he’s letting on.

“Dinner’s ready,” Gavin laughs, shutting the door behind them with a soft click. “Hope you’re not too fussy.”

He’s not. Michael will eat whatever he’s fortunate enough to come across.

The boy doesn’t wait for a response, already moving across the room to finish preparing his meal.

“Make yourself at home, love,” Gavin calls over his shoulder. Easier said than done, honestly, when you’re standing in a stranger’s home and don’t really know what to do with yourself. “I’ve got enough for two.”

In the end, Michael perches on one of the chairs positioned around that centerpiece table. Places his satchel down on the floor beside him, sword resting against the wall. Tries to keep his attention off Gavin for the most part. The flower pot in his window suddenly becomes extremely interesting.

“How long have you been travelling?” Gavin asks, jolting Michael out of his reverie. A wooden plate is placed in front of him. He can smell chicken, and once Gavin is close enough he can see some vegetables on the plate. Doesn’t look badly cooked, either.

“Couple years,” he replies.

Gavin doesn’t seem satisfied. “Why did you leave your home? Did you not like it?”

That’s an easy answer. His home isn’t easy to like. Fire and brimstone gets boring after seventeen years, truly, and there’s something desperately refreshing about feeling a cool breeze on your face in the morning. Even rain is thoroughly appreciated, despite how much it slows down his travels.

“I’m from the Nether,” Michael answers simply, because just those words should offer all the explanation he needs.

“Oh.”

They eat in silence for a few moments. Michael sure as hell isn’t starting a conversation, and Gavin seems to be mulling over his last response.

“What’s it like?” Gavin asks, finally breaking the silence.

“You’ve never been?”

Gavin shakes his head. “Heard stories.”

“They’re probably true,” Michael sighs, although the tension in his shoulders dissipates a little. “We don’t have water, everything’s on fire, the population is tiny.”

“How do you...survive?”

“I mean, you gotta wear face masks an’ shit. Can’t breathe properly down there.”

Gavin nods, seemingly enthralled. “So you came up here instead?”

Michael nods. “I was, like, seventeen? Only just. Got sick of always bein’ too hot and having nothing to look at.”

“But why don’t you stay anywhere? Isn’t it hard?”

If it weren’t for the air of near reverent tone of Gavin’s voice, Michael would be suspicious. He’s asking a whole lot of questions. But it’s his voice, the look in his big green eyes, that air of childlike curiosity he carries. Either he’s a damn good actor, or he’s hanging onto Michael’s every word. It’s endearing.

“Everything’s the same down there. There’s way more to see here.”

“Doesn’t it get tiring?”

Maybe a little, is what he’d like to say. Michael likes to keep moving, longs to explore every last part of the world he’s adopted, and yet something in him cries out for stability. For a home - a real one, not a temporary house he passes through or a cave on the side of a mountain. Something like this, like Gavin’s home, in a little settlement on the edge of a desert. Maybe in a forest. He likes it warm, not blisteringly hot.

“Not really,” Michael lies, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Get to see some cool shit.”

“You’re so cool.”

He laughs, or at least attempts to. It’s more of a bark in the end, but his intention is clear. “Nothing’s stopping you from doing it.”

“I couldn’t,” Gavin protests. “That’s not my thing.”

“Don’t know until you try.”

Michael pushes his plate away from him, lifting his gaze to meet Gavin’s. “Thanks.”

He beams, gathering up Michael’s plate and placing it atop his own. “Glad you enjoyed. I’ve got a spare bed if you want it.”

“Yeah. Uh, thanks,” Michael repeats, because it’s been a long time since somebody offered him this kind of hospitality without some form of payment. “Do you, like, want something from me?”

Gavin frowns, eyebrows pulling together in a frown. “What’s that mean?”

“Like, payment?” he clarifies.

“What? No! Of course not,” Gavin gasps, shaking his head. “Why would I ask you to pay me? I would do this for anyone.”

Somehow, it’s not difficult for Michael to believe.

“Just...checkin’. Most people do,” he reassures, gathering up his belongings. “Nothing personal.”

Gavin seems to relax a little, nodding slowly. “You can stay here as long as you want, love. I don’t want anything in return.”

It’s more than just a little endearing. As Gavin leads him up the small stone staircase to his bedroom, Michael can’t help but be a little touched by the boy's generosity. He’s not heartless.

The upstairs is similarly outfitted in shades of green, with torches casting that same homely glow over the room. There’s a larger bed, intricate carvings covering the wooden bedposts, and a smaller one on the opposite end of the room.

“I hope this is good,” Gavin smiles, inclining his head towards the other bed.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s...yeah, it’s great,” Michael murmurs, taking a tentative step toward the other bed. Overwhelmed by Gavin’s kindness, really. He couldn’t remember anyone else who’d treated him so well. “Seriously, thanks.”

Gavin waves his hand dismissively. “Stop! I don’t just let every cute stranger into my house. You seem nice and I want to help you. So you don’t need to thank me.”

In any other situation, Michael would roll his eyes, but he can’t quite bring himself to do so. “Sure, cool.”

He tosses the satchel down beside his bed, easily within reach if he needs to make a quick getaway. Gavin may seem trustworthy, but Michael’s been crossed one too many times to fall for the nice guy front. The sword leans against the bedpost.

Gavin is silent for a while, and yet the silence between two near-strangers isn’t as awkward as one would first presume. There’s something strangely comfortable about it, actually, and Michael isn’t sure what to make of that. Chooses to push it to the back of his mind instead. That’s something to think about once he’s far, far away.

“G’night, love,” Gavin calls across the room. He’s changed into different clothes, although they’re still the same hues of emerald and tan. It’s not worth asking what his favourite colour might be.

“Night,” Michael responds. Pulls his shirt over his head, but that’s the only clothing he’ll shed. Gavin extinguishes the last of the torches, and they’re plunged into darkness.

He watches the moon through the skylight. The soft sounds of Gavin shifting stop it from becoming too silent, and Michael lets his heart rate slow. Couldn’t remember when it had gotten so quick, honestly.

Maybe he’ll stay here a little longer than he initially planned. The bed is warm and comfortable, fresh sheets holding that clean scent. He isn’t hungry or cold or miserable. For once, he’s completely at ease.

He can change his plans. Gavin said he’s welcome to stay, and Michael doesn’t think a few extra days would be considered overstaying his welcome.

(And so what if a few days turns into a few months, and a few years down the line he’s still here? And maybe there’s a sandy-haired boy laid beside him, familiar-looking, and the sword doesn’t rest against his bedpost at night. It’s unlikely, but certainly not impossible.)

[boywizardscanbecute]

A Lovely Surprise

I COME BEARING GIFTS MY BEAUTIFUL FOLLOWERS 

It wasn’t requested but here’s a Newt x pregnant! reader that I wrote in one sitting yesterday. The idea just came to me and I couldn’t stop writing it! Anyways I really hope you beautiful people enjoy! 2 notes: 

Requests open 

Feedback always wanted/appreciated (Even just reblogs :))

Word count: 11,500 

Summary: You traveled with Newt to New York, being his girlfriend and the illustrator of his book. You and Newt were childhood friends, and you grew up near him and Theseus, being in Newt’s year at Hogwarts. Him and Tina were only really close friends. As a result, Newt is trying to lift his travel ban so the two of you can continue your research, and visit your friends. So when Dumbledore asks Newt to go to Paris, he decides to go. For the sake of the story Jacob comes to Newt for help, Queenie having already gone after Tina. So Newt brings him along to try and save Credence. Meanwhile back in London you get hit with an awful surprise. Side note- Theseus and Leta are engaged, but because Newt has you he is no longer Jealous. Tina is also not jealous, instead having become really close friends with both you and Newt. Plot only altered slightly.

    “Newt wake up,” you whispered to his sleeping form. He groaned and rolled over. Laughing you climb on top of him, peppering kisses to his face. “Wake up sleepy head,” you giggle between kisses. He moans and gets up, taking you with him. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, legs wrapped around his hips and he walked to the bathroom as you planted kisses on his bare chest. He laughs, “I can’t exactly get ready when you wrap yourself around me like this.” He bends down and sets you on the toilet, planting a sleepy kiss on your forehead before brushing his teeth. “Do you think they’ll give you the permits this time?” you ask. He shakes his head, “I don’t know darling. I know you’re anxious to continue our research and so am I.” You groan, “It’s not only that. Tina keeps complaining in her letters, asking when we’re going to come back and visit them. She wants to introduce us to the real Percival Graves.” You smirk smugly, making Newt laugh. “Think they’re dating yet?” he asks your opinion. You ponder the thought, “Oh I don’t know. I know she had a personal relationship with him before Grindelwald impersonated him. But don’t you think that would be kind of traumatic? Knowing at some point that was actually Grindelwald?” Newt answers, “Maybe. I’m not sure. But they could be quite the crime fighting duo.” You nod in agreement. Newt wanders back into your bedroom, slipping on his usual outfit. You smile at him. “Could you grab my tie off of the dresser?” he asks you. Padding over, you take the bow tie and bring it to Newt. You watch as he quickly ties it up. “What?” he asks when he realizes you’re staring at him. You grin, “I just think you look so cute in bow ties.” He blushes at your compliment. “Thanks,” he mumbles. You giggle, “Newt Scamander you’re going to have to get used to getting complimented. Especially now with all your adoring fans.” Newt scowls, “I didn’t ask for adoring fans.” You take his hands and look him in the eyes. “Newt your book was amazing. Of course you’re going to have fans.” He shrugs, “I guess.” Checking his watch he curses, “Merlin’s beard I have to go. I’ll come back as soon as I’m done. Please feed the creatures since we woke up late.” You nod. Pausing at the door he plants a swift kiss on your lips and says, “Goodbye darling I love you. See you soon.” You watch him as he goes, crossing your fingers that this time might be different. 

    10 minutes later you walked your rounds through Newt’s basement, feeding everyone. “There you go guys,” you talk to the mooncalves. They happily take their breakfast. You’re about to go upstairs when there is a rustling near Newt’s workstation. Wandering over, you shake your head at Einstein, one of the baby Nifflers nosing through a drawer of the desk. “Einstein you rascal,” you scold him as you pull him out of the drawer. His pouch was awfully full. Tickling him, you let the treasure fall out onto the desk. When he’s empty you return him to his cage with his other brothers and sisters. “Better put this stuff back in the safe,” you mutter to yourself. Sweeping the gold into your hand, your eyes freeze on a silver glint in the pile. Frowning, you pick it up. “Oh my god,” you gasp. Staring back at you in your palm was a silver engagement ring. Elegant but simple, it had a main stone with two side stones. “Oh my god. I wasn’t supposed to find this,” you shove the ring back in the desk drawer out of sight. “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you panic. Backing against the wall, you tear your gaze away from Newt’s desk and bound up the stairs, slamming the door behind you.

    It took a hot bath and a nice cup of tea to slow your breathing, but you still felt upset, and your stomach was unsettled. Climbing out of the bathtub, you dry yourself off and put on a pair of black, wide legged trousers, tucking in your white dress shirt. Your hair hung down off of your shoulders in soft waves. The doorbell rings. “Coming,” you call. Walking to the door, you swing it open and find the last person you expected to see. “Jacob?” you shout in disbelief. He smiles, roping you into a hug. “Y/n. It’s so great to see you,” he replies. Letting him inside you say confused, “It’s great to see you too. But how am I seeing you?” Jacob hangs his coat and plops down on the couch. “Well all of my memories I had of wizards were good, so they weren’t forgotten. Queenie helped me fill in the blanks,” he explains. Suddenly you look around asking, “Where is Queenie?” Jacob sighs, “That’s why I’m here. I need Newt and your help. I think Queenie went to Paris. To find Tina.” “Tina’s in Paris?” you exclaim. Jacob nods, “Well at least she was at one point. All the aurors in the world are looking for Credence. They all want him dead.” You furrow your brows in confusion. “But Credence is dead,” you state. Jacob objects, “Apparently he’s not.” You jump to your feet saying, “We have to find him before the other aurors.” Jacob smiles, “I figured you would say that. So where’s Newt? I’d like to come with to find Queenie.” You frown and stop midstep, “He’s still at his meeting at the ministry.” As if on cue Newt steps through the door.

    “Jacob?” he asks, doubting his own eyes. Jacob hugs him, “Newt. Great to see you.” Newt slowly nods, trying to wrap his head around his muggle friend returning. “You were supposed to have been obliviated,” Newt comments. Jacob responds, “Yeah, only thing was all my memories of magic were happy, so I didn’t forget. Queenie helped me fill in the blanks but we had a fight and now she’s gone to Paris after Tina.” Newt nods, “Makes sense. Everyone’s in Paris looking for Credence.” It’s here that you interject, “We have to save him Newt.” Newt gulps and nods. Turning to Jacob he says, “Jacob please make yourself at home. I’ve got to speak with y/n for a few minutes.” Jacob nods and sits back down. Confused, you follow Newt.

    “What’s going on?” you call after him as he jogs down the stairs to the basement. He doesn’t answer right away. “Newt?” you call again. He leans against his desk and turns to you. “Well?” you wait for him to say something. He looks at you, and guilt boils to the surface. “I didn’t get the travel ban lifted,” he states. Your stomach swirls with confusion and turmoil. “Oh god,” you choke, your face turning a ghastly shade of green. Newt’s intuition moves him to grab a bucket. He holds it out, barely reaching you in time. You grab the bucket and wretch repeatedly into the tin bucket. Newt watches you with concern. When you finish throwing up, you set the bucket down. Waving your wand it disappears. Taking a shaky breath, you wipe the sweat from your forehead. “Are you okay?” Newt brushes a hair from your face, his eyes glued to you, studying you intensely. You gulp, still nauseous, but reply, “I’m fine.” Newt stares at you, not quite convinced. Breaking the silence you ask, “So if we can’t travel, what will we do?” Newt looks like he already knows the answer. “What is it?” you implore him. He sighs, “After my meeting at the ministry, Dumbledore approached me. He asked me to do the same thing, to go to Paris and rescue Credence from the bloodthirsty aurors.” “Did you tell him know?” you question. Newt gulps, averting his gaze. It’s clear he’s already decided. “So we’re going,” you state. It’s then that Newt looks at you, with an extremely pained expression. Passing his wand back and forth between his hands he sighs, “I’m going. You’re staying here.” Immediately you shout, “To hell I am! I’m coming with you. We’re partners remember?” He reaches for you, but you step away hurt. “Y/n please listen to me,” he begs. Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Fine.” Newt pleads, “Someone has to stay here and take care of the creatures. You’re the only person I can trust to do that.” You shoot back, “Bring them in the case. That’s what we did in New York.” He shakes his head, “It’s not just that darling. Every auror in Europe and from America is after Credence. It’s extremely dangerous and I don’t want you in harms way.” You argue, “Newt you know I can take care of myself.” He steps forward and tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “Y/n,” the green in his eyes flashes with unshed emotion. He continues, “My darling I’ve been with you long enough to know that I don’t want to live without you. I have a future planned for us and I don’t want to lose that future.” Blush creeps to the tip of your nose thinking about the future he was referring to and the ring you found earlier. Growing up with Newt, he knew exactly what this look meant. He smirks at you, “Y/n what do you know?” You turn away from him, cursing yourself for being so easy to read. He laughs and spins you back around, pinning you inside his arms. “Newt, let me go,” you giggle as he kisses you all over your face. “Then tell me what you know,” he laughs back. “Newt,” you squeal as he continues to attack you with kisses, his lips brushing against your hair. Finally you give in, “Alright alright I’ll tell you.” He smiles triumphantly. His hands moved to your waist, cradling you in his grasp. Looking up at him you plead, “But you have to promise not to get mad.” He raises his eyebrows, “You certainly have me intrigued now my love. I couldn’t ever get mad at you. Now, please tell me,” there was a hint of nervousness in his voice.

    Sighing, you walk over to the desk and open the drawer, pulling out the ring. Newt’s face is red as a cherry. “How did you know where that was?” he asks in awe. You blubber, “Newt I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to find it. The baby nifflers got out and one was in the desk drawer. When I made him empty his pouch, the ring fell out.” Newt nods silently, running a hand through his cinnamon curls. He stands there and thinks. “Newt please say something,” you plead. He’s shaken from his daze and steps forward, meeting you at the desk. The ring is held out in your palm, and you watch as Newt takes it in his own. His voice cracking he says, “I was going to make it really special. But now that I’m going away, now seems as good of a time as any.” You gasp, realizing what he meant. Newt, someone who was naturally extremely nervous, was implying he was going to do something spontaneous. “Oh god,” you breathe, suddenly filled with anxiety. “Here goes nothing,” his voice shakes with nerves. His fingers close around the ring as he slowly kneels down. “Y/n l/n,” he begins. You’re already crying and Newt’s tears soon begin after your own. “We grew up together. I-I’ve known you for a long while. And everyday I am so thankful that I get to know you. I couldn’t imagine my life without you. You’re my w-w-world, my whole world. I never want to live a day without you by my s-s-side. So y/n, will you marry me?” His phrases rush together, coming out in a nervous stream of speech. It was Newt, but it meant it was sincere. Newt runs a hand through his curls, anxiously awaiting your answer. You beam, “Of course I’ll marry you Newt. Nothing would make me happier!” Relief floods across his face as he slips the ring on your finger. Standing back up, he kisses you deeply, picking you up and holding you in his arms. Your toes barely grazed the ground as he swayed with you in his arms, kissing you sweetly. Reluctantly you pull away and whisper, “As much as I want you to stay here with me, I think it’s time for you to go.” Newt sadly nods. Taking his hand, you lead him back up to the bedroom to pack.

    He arranged for a portkey to take him and Jacob to Paris under the radar in two hours. When he’s done packing, he turns to you and commits your image to memory. He lets out a low whistle, quite uncharacteristically. “What?” you giggle, looking back at him. He walks over to you and brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “I just can’t believe you’re my fiance now,” he breathes. You blush at his compliment. Standing above where you sat on the bed he tilts your chin up again to study you. “You are so beautiful, you know that?” he tells you. You shrug the comment off. “No, you are. You’re so beautiful my y/n,” he forces you to look at him. Leaning down, he kisses you deeply. Jacob calls from the other room, “I think it’s time to go Newt!” Newt pulls away from your lips, muttering slews of swears under his breath. He pulls you up with him. Desperately you ask, “Are you sure I can’t come with?” Newt smiles but says, “It’s better this way. I promise I’ll return safely.” You playfully poke his chest, “You better Newton Scamander. Because I’m not letting go of our future.” He grins and says, “Good because I’m not either. I’ll be home with you and planning our wedding before you know it.” You nod, too choked up to speak just then. With one last passionate kiss, he exits the bedroom, briefcase in hand. When him and Jacob reach the front door, despair fills your chest. “Be safe,” you manage to choke out. He wipes a tear from your cheek and says, “I promise.” Wordlessly you nod at his reassurance. He pulls you into a tight hug, his head resting on the top of your own head. When he pulls away, he kisses your forehead sweetly and turns away, leaving with Jacob. He was too pained to look back, knowing that if he saw you standing there, tears and all, he wouldn’t go. You watch as the turn the corner and walk out of your sight.

    Two weeks later you found yourself missing Newt now more than ever. The creatures sensed your sadness as well as his absence. Newt wrote to you, assuring you he was safe, but the letters were incredibly vague for security reasons. Rereading his last letter, you sat in the basement, stroking Dougal’s fur. Dougal climbs in your lap, placing his hands on your stomach. “Dougal cut it out you’re being weird,” you push his hands away. He immediately puts them back. “Oh Dougal you weirdo,” you laugh. You tear Dougal away from you and walk upstairs to the bedroom, getting ready to take a bath. Pausing in the mirror, you glance at your reflection. Your stomach looked extremely bloated and it made you feel self conscious. “Ughhh,” you groan. Forcing yourself away from the mirror, you take your bath.

    When nightime rolls around you go back down to the case to feed the creatures dinner. Dougal again is attached at your hip, his hands wrapped around your belly. “Dougal come on what is it?” you raise your voice in annoyance. Usually Dougal would be hurt by this, but he insists on continuing to pat your belly. Sighing you tell him, “I can’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.” He looks up into your eyes and realizes you’re finally listening. Content that you were, he hops down from your lap and makes a cradling motion with his arms. “What you want me to cradle you?” you ask confused. Dougal shakes his head, but continues the cradling motion. Then he points to your belly and repeats the motion. “He thinks I’m pregnant? That’s absolutely crazy,” You tell yourself. Then your mind wanders back through the previous weeks. You gasp, “Oh shit,” and sprint up the stairs. Dougal follows.

    Running into the kitchen you look at the calendar on the wall, counting back in your mind. You were supposed to get your period three weeks ago, but you were distracted with Newt trying to lift the travel ban.When you thought back farther, you couldn’t remember getting your period for at least two months, if not more. “Oh no oh no oh no oh no,” you pace the kitchen, thoughts swarming your head. Dougal looks to you. Walking over to him you bend down to reach his eyesight, “Thank you Dougal. I would have never realized if it weren’t for you.” He kisses your cheek. Carrying him back downstairs you set him down but ask, “Dougal honey, do you know how long?” He ponders the thought. His soft paws graze your belly once again, as if communicating with the baby. When he looks back to you he holds up three fingers. You choke loudly in surprise. “Three months?” you gasp. Dougal nods. “Why don’t you stay with me?” you ask the creature shyly. He nods, taking your hand and leading you back up the stairs.

    A few hours later you sat at the kitchen table, trying to write a letter to Newt. You immediately knew you wouldn’t tell him. Not through a letter. So you settled for short and sweet.

    Dear Newt,

I am missing you terribly back here in London. It’s been raining an awful lot, which doesn’t make things much better. Do you have any idea when you’ll be coming home? I know it’s selfish of me to ask, you’ve only been gone for two weeks. Wishing you well. Hopefully you’ve at least found Tina or Queenie by now. Be safe.

All my love, your fiance,

y/n.

    Summoning an owl, you immediately send the letter off. Across the continent in Paris, France Newt sat at the kitchen table of the home of Nicholas Flamel. He rested his head in his hands, groaning. “Newt what’s wrong?” Tina cautiously approaches. He doesn’t even lift his head, muffling, “I miss y/n. I should have brought her with me. It’s wrong to be away from my fiance.” Tina’s eyes widen in shock. “Your fiance?” she squeals with delight. Newt looks up and realized he let the secret slip. “Yeah, we’re engaged. But we haven’t told anyone yet. I just want to get back to her,” he explains. Tina nods. “You will,” Tina declares. Newt laughs at her bluntness, “And how do you know that Tina?” Tina smiles, “Because I just know it. You two were meant to be together.” Newt sheepishly grins.

    Another two weeks pass and you’re lucky that you have Dougal to take care of you, because you felt useless. Flipping over on your bed you moan, “Dougal. I need someone to talk to.” He pads silently out of the room, returning a moment later with a frame in his hand. It was a picture of you, Newt, and Theseus as kids. Dougal’s furry white paw points to Theseus. Grabbing the frame you shout, “Dougal you’re a genius!” He smiles and follows you into the living room, watching you as you send a patronus message to Theseus at work.

    Theseus sits at his desk combing over paperwork, when a bright light pulls his gaze up to look at your patronus. Leta stands in the doorway and says, “Isn’t that y/n’s patronus?” Theseus nods. Your voice came through, the anxiety evident in your voice that spoke, “Theseus it’s y/n. Please come to Newt’s immediately. It’s important, I need someone to talk to.” Leta ponders the message as Theseus gets up, no hesitation, pulling on his coat. “Do you want me to come with?” Leta asks him. He shakes his head, “That’s sweet darling but no. Y/n is a private person and the only person she trusts more than me is Newt, so this is probably something she’s going to have trouble with.” Leta nods. Theseus stops in the doorway and kisses her on the cheek. “Please be careful,” Leta asks. He nods, “I will. I’ll be careful.” And then he leaves.

    You stood in the living room, twiddling your thumbs nervously. A knock comes from the door, making you jump. Dougal heads for the door but you stop him, “It’s okay Dougal I got it.” He steps back returning to the couch. Opening the door, you smile into your old friends eyes. “Theseus,” you breathe a sigh of relief. He pushes through the door into the house and hugs you close to him. “I came as soon as I got your message. You sounded worried. What’s going on?” You pulled him over to the couch, sitting him down. He eyes Dougal and says, “I thought they all stayed in your magical menagerie of a basement?” You reply cautiously, “I sort of needed a caretaker.” “Why?” he replies, his voice laced with concern. You bite your lip, “Because….” Theseus sits forward eagerly, “Because why? Merlin’s beard y/n you’re scaring me.” “FIne,” you groan, taking off the loose robe you had around your body. As soon as you set it down the answer becomes clear to Theseus. “Oh my god,” he gasps. At almost four months pregnant your belly bump was becoming increasingly noticeable to anyone who looked at you. Soon loose fitting clothes wouldn’t even hide it.

    The first thing Theseus does is hug you. He then sits you down on the couch across from him. “How long?” he asks first. You gulp, “Almost four months.” He nods, his mouth suddenly dry. He studies you carefully, as you sit there biting your lip mercilessly. He connects the dots and exclaims, “You haven’t told Newt have you?” You shake your head guiltily. “Oh y/n,” he groans. Tears prick your eyes and you shout, “Well what was I supposed to do Thes? He’s needed in Paris right now! I can’t just tell him in a letter!” Theseus hushes you, letting you cry on his shoulders. He squeezes your hand, his fingers brushing against the diamond on your finger. He lifts the ring up to peer closer at it. “And you’re engaged?” he asks. You nod. “Y/n you have to tell Newt,” he pleads. You shake your head, “I can’t. I can’t do it.” “Why not?” he asks you curiously. You answer honestly, “I won’t pull him away from the fight to save Credence. He’s just a boy.” Theseus argues, “But you have a tiny child inside you know. It could be your own little boy. Newt deserves to know he has a child on the way.” You stand your ground saying stubbornly, “Theseus, I know it doesn’t make sense. But I can’t tell him. Not yet. Please don’t say anything,” you beg. Theseus groans, “If you really don’t want me to say anything I won’t. But for the record I don’t agree with this.” “Thank you,” you sob, hugging him tightly. He stands and says, “I have to get back to the ministry. Leta and I can drop by on occasion for visits, checking up on you, does that sound good?” You nod, “Yes I would like that very much.” Theseus kisses you on top of your head and says sternly, “Rest up. You need to keep my niece or nephew healthy.” “Of course,” you smile and watch him depart. The next morning a letter arrives from Paris from Newt.

My dear y/n,

I am missing you terribly as well. It feels wrong to be apart from my fiance. I’m hoping you’re not too bored out of your mind. Theseus says he visits you sometimes. I’m glad you have the company. It makes me very sad to say this, but there is still no sign of Credence. It looks like I’m going to be here for a while. I’m sorry I didn’t let you come with, for there is nothing I would love more than to kiss your sweet lips right now. Tina and Queenie send their congratulations, I accidentally let the engagement slip. We’ll be together soon. I’m being safe.

I love you,

-Newt

    You clung to his letter like your life depended on it. They were the only things you looked forward to now, besides Theseus and Leta visiting. “Oh Newt. I miss you,” you silently sob, tears dropping onto the letter and smearing the ink. Immediately you write your reply.

My dearest Newt,

I miss you terribly as well. Tell Tina and Queenie I say thank you. I must admit I was going a little insane at the lack of human interaction. Luckily Theseus and Leta saved me from insanity and have dinner with me frequently. But nothing compares to your company. Come home soon, so I can kiss you again. My love for you grows endlessly. I’ll send you my luck that you find Credence soon and rescue him.

Love from London,

y/n

    A few weeks later, Leta knocks at your door. “Coming,” you call, teetering over to the front door. 5 months pregnant and there was no hiding it. The only thing that still fit you was your pajamas. Opening the door you smile, “Leta, a lovely surprise as always. Please come in.” Leta steps in, bags in hand and says, “I come bearing gifts.” You laugh, following her into the kitchen. “Do tell,” you implore her. Pulling out piles of clothes she replies, “I got you maternity clothes, so you don’t have to keep wearing your pajamas.” You hug her tightly, “Leta you’re a lifesaver!” you thank her. They fit perfectly and were extremely comfortable. At dinner Theseus states, “They’re getting closer to finding Credence.” You beam at the thought. Suddenly you ask, “Thes, if the ministry knows that Newt is in Paris, why haven’t you arrested him yet?” Theseus grins, “They don’t know. Only I know. Newt’s smart. He’s laying low.” You tease him, “Mr. head auror going against the rules.” Theseus shrugs, “He’s my brother. I’d do anything to protect him.” You smile at the sentiment. And when dinner is finished and Theseus and Leta turn to leave you ask, “Please keep me updated on the situation in Paris.” “We will,” they respond and depart.

    The next month you fall into a smooth, albeit depressed state. It was common place for Leta and Theseus to check on you 3 times a week. Other than that you threw yourself into new illustrations, stuffing down the pain of missing Newt. Dougal was perhaps your greatest caretaker who seemed to understand just exactly what you needed. One day, Dougal rubs your belly bump affectionately, this being not out of the normal. You smile and pat his head, “What would I do without you Dougal?” He kisses your belly. A thought suddenly occurs to you and you bend down to Dougal’s eye level. “Dougal, I have a question to ask you,” you say calmly. Dougal stares back at you, and you continue, “Dougal do you know what I’m having? Do you know, if it’s a boy or girl?” Slowly, he nods. Breathlessly you ask, “Will you tell me?” Dougal again shakes his head yes. Laying a hand on your belly again, Dougal closes his eyes in concentration. Blinking them open, he points to you, then to your belly. You shake your head in confusion. He repeats the gesture and the meaning dawns on you. “Oh. You mean I’m having a girl?” you squeak excitedly. Dougal nods. Tears of joy prick your eyes and you kiss Dougal on the cheek, thanking him. Before you can think about your little girl, Leta bursts through the door.

    She’s a wreck, her hair sticking up everywhere as she slams the door shut behind her. “Leta what is it?” you squeeze her hand, trying to calm her down. Breathlessly she answers, “Theseus… went to Paris.. Grindelwald is rallying.” You gasp, immediately panicking. Running into your bedroom, you change into wide legged dress pants and manage to pull a striped long sleeve shirt over your growing bump. You return to Leta and she eyes you questioningly. “I’m going to Paris,” you tell her. Leta shakes her head, “Absolutely not. You are six months pregnant you are not doing this.” Grabbing one of Newt’s coats, you pull it on, hastily buttoning it. “Leta I’m doing this,” you tell her firmly. Leta groans in frustration, “If anyone asks I didn’t tell. Inevitably I’ll see in Paris.” You nod and she disapparates. You glance in the mirror before leaving and take in the sight. You wore Newt’s old favorite coat, the navy blue still brightly colored. Your belly strained against the buttons and you decided to undo them. The striped shirt you wore underneath clearly showcased your bump and hung over your black dress pants. Your hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. You place a hand to your belly and say, “I’ll keep you safe baby girl. I promise.” Grabbing your wand, you think of Newt and disapparate on the spot.

    You reappeared in an ancient looking house. “Newt?” you call out. There was no answer. “Newt?” you call out again. An extremely old wizard approached you. “Can I help you?” he asks kindly. You rush up to him and beg, “Please I’m looking for my fiance Newt Scamander. Please have you seen him?” He calmly responds, “They’ve gone to the Lestrange Tomb but-” you cut him off saying, “Thank you, thank you so much!” and you disapparate. “Oh dear,” Nicholas Flamel mutters with worry.

    You reappear in a dark graveyard and look around. But you could barely see anything. Looking up, you saw the marked Lestrange tomb. Fear quivered through. Placing your own hand protectively on your belly, you swallow your fear and enter the tomb. It was empty, but there was a light coming from a staircase. “Newt?” you hiss, your voice echoing in the stone chamber. There was no answer. A rush of footsteps sounds outside the tomb and you hastily press yourself against the wall, shrinking as best you could. A swarm of aurors enter. Theseus announces to his employees, “It isn’t illegal to listen to him. Use minimum force on the crowd. We mustn’t be what he says we are.” His aurors nod and descend into the unknown chamber. Theseus goes to follow, but hears a scuffling from your hiding spot. He turns and mutters, “Lumos,” shining the light on where you stood.

    “Y/n my god what are you doing here?” he scolds you. You step forward as fast as you can and say, “Theseus if my fiance dies tonight and I don’t get to say goodbye, I would never forgive myself. I can’t sit by and watch the people I love fight this alone. Please don’t try and stop me.” Theseus groans, “Y/n you are a heavily pregnant woman about to enter your third trimester. You cannot be serious, asking me to let you go in there.” You gently squeeze his hand, “You know I’m going to do this whether you try to stop me or not.” Theseus sighs in frustration, “You better stick close behind me.” You nod and follow him down the steps.

    Immediately you grow scared. Grindelwald had thousands of followers. Thousands of people willing to follow his orders. Gulping, you grab the back of Theseus’s jacket and stick close behind him. It’s when Grindelwald states that aurors were present that Theseus whispers to you, “Please, for the love of Merlin, please stay back. I don’t want Newt to lose you. I don’t want to lose family.” You reluctantly listen, standing back against the wall at the top of the amphitheater.

    In a flash, a follower is killed by an auror and there’s an outrage. Grindelwald declares, “Take this warrior home. Now go forth from this place and spread the word. It is not we who are violent. It is not we who destroy.” Thousands of followers disapparate leaving just you, the aurors, Newt, Tina, and Queenie and Jacob. “Aurors. Join me know, contribute to a legacy of greatness. Or die,” Grindelwald’s voice echoed through the chamber. Many try to run, but his blue conjured flames engulf them. “No cheating children!” he shouts. The adrenaline of the situation moved you forward. Across from you another form also moved forward, but in the direction of Grindelwald. “Credence!” you freeze. It was Newt’s voice. Newt called desperately to the boy as Grindelwald blocked his path with blue flames. The sight of Grindelwald shooting deadly spells at your fiance inspired an anger like you’d never known inside of you. Running down the steps you shout, “Newt!” as you run to his defense.

    Turning in disbelief towards the sound of your voice, Newt is filled with conflicting emotions. He feels joy at seeing his beloved, but the joy quickly turns to horror as his eyes freeze over your belly. You were very clearly, heavily pregnant with his child. Theseus steps down to join his brother, fighting off the expanding flames. You don’t give yourself time to mourn as you watch Credence pass through the flames to Grindelwald. Reaching Newt, you stand beside the Scamander brothers and fend off the blue flames. Then Queenie crosses over. “Queenie!” you shriek her name into the air, trying to pull her back with the sound of your voice. But she too crosses over. Tina sprints forward and grabs Jacob, disapparating him to safety. “Mr. Scamander, do you think Dumbledore will mourn for you?” Grindelwald’s voice is cold, void of emotion. Fending off the flames, you feel the energy begin to drain out of you. Newt shouts over the flames, “Get out of here! Y/n get out of here now!” Desperation fills his voice. “I won’t leave you,” you shout back, “I can do this!” Catching a glimpse of Newt out of the corner of your eye, you see him shaking with emotion while trying to plead with you and fend off Grindelwald’s flames at the same time. “You need to go now, save our child!” he begs you. Your response is broken off by a loud but stern voice calling, “Grindelwald STOP!” He turns to look and so do the rest of you. Leta Lestrange descended the amphitheater stairs, nearing the circle. Theseus calls out to her desperately, “Leta!” She briefly looks at her fiance before continuing towards the dark wizard. Theseus pushes against the flames, trying to get to her. “Leta Lestrange. Hated by all wizards, always out of place. You have greatness within you. Time to come home,” he offers her his hand. She takes it. Newt is frozen in his surprise. Theseus continues to call desperately, “Leta please!” Grindelwald turns and moves to bring her towards the circle, but she drops her hand from his. She turns to Theseus and says, “I love you. Now get out of here. Go.” Theseus screams, blasting spells into the air, fighting desperately, to get to his beloved. Leta blasts a spell, effectively destroying the skull Grindelwald used to show his vision. She shot another spell at him, only to be deflected. The flames quickly fanned out of the circle, growing increasingly out of control. Coming to his senses Newt pulls you back and shouts, “We have to get out of here. Now!” Unable to tear your eyes away from the scene, you watch as your friend Leta Lestrange disintegrates into nothing. Newt grabs your hand and pulls you towards him. Theseus is frozen in place. And in a split second, you pull Newt towards Theseus, securing his hand in your own. The blue flames grow closer as the three of you disapparate.

    Appearing outside the tomb, you run as the flames quickly follow the three of you through the entrance. Newt pulls you against his chest, tucking the two of you into the corner of a wall, away from the flames. You breath heavily against his chest, crying into his shirt. Wordlessly, he places his arms around you and holds you close, taking in the presence of you that he’d missed so terribly the past three and a half months. The rest of the aurors and Tina contained the flames, banishing them back into the tomb. Newt wouldn’t leave your side. And when the tomb is sealed, there’s a strangled cry that echoes through the air. “Theseus,” you thought. Your heart went out to him. He’d just lost his fiance. You finally look up at Newt for this first time since he was in London. His eyes were filled with emotion as he looked down at you, the shock of the news still being processed in his head. Your voice comes out hoarse, “Newt you should go to Theseus.” He shakes his head no. “Newt, he needs you. I’m here, I’m alive,” and placing a hand on your stomach you add, “We’re okay. Please go comfort your brother.” Reluctantly Newt nods and goes to Theseus. Sighing, you turn to go find Tina.

    You find her sitting with Jacob in the grass, the two of them dead silent. Waddling over, because that's how you walked now, you whisper, “Tina, I’m so sorry.” Tina looks up at the sound of your voice and her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “Oh my god!” she shouts, jumping up. She immediately steps over to you, searching you for injuries. “Are you okay?” she asks. “I’m okay Tina. Really I am,” you reassure her. “And I’m really sorry about Queenie and Credence.” Tina nods, suppressing her sobs. You gently take her hand and sit down next to her in the grass. You each lean your head on each other’s shoulder, silently bringing one another comfort. You close your eyes and concentrate on comforting your friend.

    The grass crunches and you open your eyes to see that familiar pair of hazel green ones staring back at you. Newt looks at you lovingly. “Can we talk?” he asks softly. Nodding, you take his offered hand, and you let him lead you away to a more private area. Finally he turns and takes your hands in his, briefly smiling at the ring on your finger. He chokes on his tears, “When were you going to tell me?” It breaks you to see him so upset. You whimper, “I’m sorry Newt. I really am. But I couldn’t write to you that I was pregnant in a letter. I asked Theseus not to tell either. I knew you would fight until Credence was found and I didn’t want to take you away from that.” The words reach him, but his face is blank. “Newt please,” you cry, “I know I messed up. But we’re here now. You and I both just watched Theseus lose his fiance. Please don’t be angry with him, or me. Please don’t let this come between us.” He considers your plea and reaches a hand forward, shaking, as he brushes your tears from your cheeks. And gently he kisses you, a kiss full of sorrow and longing and love all wrapped into one. Breaking the kiss, you look up at him asking, “Does this mean you forgive me?” Newt laughs out loud, “Of course I forgive you. You are my one and only and I can’t stay mad at you, if you thought you were doing what was right.” And then for the first time ever, he places a hand on your belly. Immediately, your daughter kicks her foot up to meet her Daddy’s hand. Newt gasps, “Oh goodness.” You giggle, “She’s quite the kicker.” Newt freezes, his eyes flashing up to yours. “She?” he wonders. You nod, tears filling your own eyes. “Yep. We’re having a little baby girl,” you tell your fiance. Newt beams with pride at you. “You are such a trooper,” he praises you. Your face flushes. Newt’s voice comes out strangled as he asks, “So is she okay?” His hand moves to your stomach again. You place your hand on top of his as you say, “Yes, she's okay. I can feel it.” And suddenly Newt lifts you up, wrapping his arms around you tightly, cradling you against his body. You giggle, “Newt honey, you should probably put me down.” He panics, “Of course,” and gently sets you down. “I’m gonna be a dad,” he smiles radiantly, joy ebbing from every inch of him. You nod, pressing your forehead against his. “You’re gonna be a dad,” you confirm his thoughts. And the two of you stand there for god knows how long, wrapped in a tight embrace, your baby kicking joyfully at the reunion of her parents.

    The weeks following Grindelwald’s rally were not easy. Sorrow could be felt throughout the ministry and everyone in your house. And when Theseus doesn’t return to work after two weeks, you and Newt decide to pay him a visit. Knocking softly on the door of his rather large home, you wait to hear an answer. There is none. “Alohomora,” you whisper, unlocking the front door. You step inside, Newt following. “Theseus?” you call out his name. There’s no understandable reply, only a grown that comes from the couch. Following the noise, you gasp as you happen upon Theseus who lays on his stomach on his sofa, a bottle of whiskey dangling in his hand. “Oh merlin,” you sigh. Newt groans and walks over to his brother. “Theseus get up,” Newt commands. Theseus looks at his brother curiously, it was rare to for Newt to be bossy. “Come on, get up!” Newt tears the bottle from his brother’s hand and forces him to sit up. You approach the two boys and sit them both down on the couch. “Newt,” you order, “Be gentle.” Then you turn to your future brother-in law, “Theseus. You can’t turn to the bottle. You need to come back to work. The ministry needs you now more than ever. The world needs you.” Theseus looks up at you and sighs, “How am I supposed to do it now that Leta’s gone.” Your heart breaks for him, and you squeeze his hands. “We’ll help you,” you promise. “Right Newt?” you add. Newt chimes in, “Of course we will.” Theseus, suddenly embarrassed picks himself up off the couch and walks into the kitchen. You and Newt follow. “I’ll return to the ministry tomorrow. Thank you,” he says sincerely. Newt awkwardly hugs his brother and then lets you say goodbye. “You can do this,” you tell him, planting a kiss to his cheek. He smiles at your encouragement. Turning back to Newt, you let him grab your hand and disapparate.

    For you and Newt you spent most days doing research on blood pacts, determined to break the one Dumbledore had with Grindelwald. One sunny March day, you wake up next to Newt, and have to have him pull you up out of bed. “God this is getting so difficult,” you groan as he helps you stand up. Rubbing a hand on your sore stretching belly, you sigh. Wandering over to the closet you put on black trousers and a soft, thin, long sleeve lavender sweater. You insisted on wearing Newt’s old coat, it still smelled like him and New York. Placing a hand on your knee, you reach down and try to pick up your shoes. “Come on,” you mutter under your breath, trying to reach your fingers towards them. Behind you Newt looks on, slightly amused. “Almost got them,” you sweat. Newt strolls in beside you and sweeps your shoes up with one try. “Not fair,” you moan. Newt laughs and says, “Come darling. Let me help.” So you let him. Sitting on the bed, he gently slips the boots on your feet. Pulling you up, he brushes the hair from your face and says, “Ready to go my love?” You nod breathlessly. Everything was tiring these days. Newt wraps a protective arm around you and disapparates.

    The two of you reappear in the waiting room of St. Mungo’s. “You go ahead and sit down, I’ll let the nurse know we’re here.” “Thanks,” you breathe as you sit down. Shortly Newt returns and places his hand in yours, waiting anxiously for the doctor. His leg thumped mercilessly, his whole demeanor exuding nervousness. “Newt honey,” you squeeze his hand, “This is normal to get a check up. Everything is fine. She’s going to be fine. I promise.” He nods, and lifts your hand to his lips, kissing it with gratitude. Soon the healer calls you into his office. Newt pulls you up from your seat and you walk to the room.

    “And how are we today Scamander’s?” he asks cheerily. You smile, “We’re okay. I can move pretty well, except when I have to bend over.” The healer nods knowingly and says, “Yes that will happen towards the end.” Newt asks anxiously, “How far along is she exactly?” The healer passes his wand over your belly briefly before answering, “36 weeks.” Newt gulps audibly. Finishing up the appointment the healer declares, “Well you’re fine to continue regular activity. Just try not to overextend your energy okay?” You nod. “Thank you so much,” Newt shakes his hand. Returning to the waiting room you ask, “Ready to go see Albus?” Today was one of the days you would compare research on the blood pact with Dumbledore, so you would have to travel to Hogwarts. Newt moans, “I’m going to have to meet you there unfortunately darling. I need to check up with Theseus on any suspicious sightings.” You nod, “Okay. Just don’t be too long.” Newt kisses your forehead promising, “I won’t be. I love you darling.” “I love you too Newt,” you squeeze his hand and leave, disapparating for Hogwarts.

    You met Dumbledore in his office, smiling at your former professor entranced in his work. “Professor Dumbledore?” you knock on the open door. He beams at you, “Y/n it’s so lovely to see you. And look how you glow.” You smile at his compliment. “Thank you,” you step into the office. Albus offers you a seat and a cup of tea. You take it gratefully. “Newt should be here in a few minutes,” you tell him. He nods. “How is your pregnancy going?” he asks politely. You smile, “Much faster now that Newt knows.” Dumbledore laughs lightheartedly saying, “Yes I imagine it would be.” Taking a sip of tea he continues, “Newt never got a chance to tell me, what are you having?” Beaming with pride you reply, “We’re having a girl.” Dumbledore breathes in awe, “That’s wonderful news. Congratulations.” Silence follows and the minutes tick by each second Newt doesn’t arrive. Breaking the silence Albus continues, “Have you thought of a name?” Grinning sheepishly you say, “I have.” He laughs and responds, “Well? Care to indulge me?” You lightly blush as you say the name you’d thought of in your head. “Demi.” Dumbledore nods thoughtfully, looking somewhat puzzled. You explain, “When I was pregnant, before the rally in Paris, I didn’t have anyone to talk care of me. Dougal, our demiguise stepped up and watched over me when Theseus couldn’t. I don’t think the baby would be here without him.” “That’s a beautiful sentiment,” Dumbledore tells you, briefly holding your hand.

    When you finish your tea, you stand and begin to pace the floor of your old Professor’s office. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” he tries to reassure you. But Dumbledore can’t hide the flicker of concern on his own face. Biting your nails you decide not to comment. Because Newt should have been here by now, there was no doubt about that. You subconsciously place a hand on your belly whispering, “Don’t worry. Daddy will be here soon, I promise.” As if on cue, the cinnamon haired, freckled faced Magizoologist bursts through the door.

    Dumbledore immediately urges, “What is it?” Newt replies breathless, “Grindelwald’s called his followers to Moscow. Another rally, but this time they plan to stand against the muggles.” “Oh god,” you gasp. This wasn’t good. “Then you must go,” Dumbledore announces. Newt sighs, “I suppose you’re right. And you still haven’t broken the pact?” Dumbledore shakes his head, “No. I still can’t fight against him.” Groaning in frustration Newt says, “Alright I’ll go.”

    With heavy steps, you move forward and ask softly, “I suppose you’ll insist that I stay back here?” You’re shocked to hear Newt reply, “Absolutely not. I don’t want you out of my sight. Besides that I know you’ll follow no matter what and I would rather be able to protect you.” You grin like a fool. “Well let’s go then,” you close the distance and take his arm. Dumbledore approaches the both of you and says, “Please be careful. Don’t lose sight of what’s important.” Newt gulps and nods. And as he presses a kiss to your forehead, you disapparate to Russia.

    When you arrive, Newt immediately pulls you into an alleyway. “What are you doing?” you hiss at him. He replies urgently, “Y/n, this isn’t like the other rallies. They’re going after muggles this time which means that they’re not holding back. They won’t hesitate to kill.” Gulping you respond, “Newt I know it’s scary, but I’m not sitting on the sidelines okay? It’s not gonna happen.” He groans loudly, cursing audibly. “Fine. Please stick close to me. And button up, I don’t want you to be a target,” Newt says trying to button his old coat over your belly. You laugh, “Newt it’s not gonna work. I’m 8 months pregnant. It’s not gonna button.” He doesn’t hide the fear on his face. There’s a loud blast that sounds from not that far away. “Stay close to me,” he repeats. He swiftly walks down the street, and you follow close behind.

    Seconds later there was another loud blast and you watch with horror as a building not 100 feet away crumples. There’s wailing in the street as hundreds of injured muggles and wizards lay in the dust. Another loud crash and there’s more collapsing structures. “Oh god,” you gag as the smell of blood begins to fill the air. Theseus comes sprinting up to the two of you. “Search for survivors!” he shouts. So you reluctantly walk away from Newt, moving aside the rubble with your wand to check for any injured victims. Most of the bodies around you were already dead. Then there’s a tiny wailing coming from beneath a fallen door. Walking over as fast as you can, you lift the door with your wand and discover a tiny 4 year old boy, crying softly. Despite your massive belly, you bend down on your knees and grab the child’s hand. “Hey,” you get his attention. He flinches. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” you reassure him. His shockingly blue eyes stare up at you from underneath a pile of sandy locks. The boy had a large gash in his cheek, and various cuts and bruises, but other than that he seemed okay. He was petrified. “Let me help you. Can I take you to a safe place?” you ask him. Wordlessly, he nods. Channeling your motherly instincts, you scoop the boy into your arms, carrying away from the destruction.

    Moving down the city block you call out, “Theseus? Newt? Anyone?” There’s a thick layer of smoke lying in the air. Coughing, you try to peer through it. A figure jogs up to you. It’s Theseus. “What’s going on? Where’s Newt?” he questions. You shake your head, “I don’t know, I don’t know. But where are we bringing the survivors? I need to get him to safety,” you gesture to the scared little boy in your arms. Theseus informs you, “There’s a tent set up with healers from St. Mungo’s down the block and around the corner. Keep looking for survivors when you’re done. I’m going to try and find Newt.” He doesn’t wait for a reply and instead turns and runs back into the smoke.

    “Come on, let’s take you somewhere safe,” you murmur in the boys ear, trying to comfort him as you waddled down the block. He cries and whimpers into your shoulder. Trying to distract him you ask, “What’s your name?” He sniffles, “Dima.” You readjust him in your arms and say, “Well Dima we’re almost there.” Sure enough you round the corner and there’s a large tent with St. Mungo’s healers. “Dima before I let the nurses check on you, did you have any other family members with you back there?” He sobs, “No. I was out getting food for my momma and sister. Then that building collapsed.” You offer reassuring cooes and walk up to the first healer you see. Smiling, she waits for you to tell her the situation. “This is Dima,” you tell her, “He was found in the rubble under one of the collapsed buildings. I’m going to look for his family. Please watch over him.” The healer replies, “Of course we will take excellent care of Dima.” You set him down gently and kneel in front of him. “You’re going to go with this nice lady now okay? She’s going to make sure everything is alright.” He nods, sniffling. You wipe the tears from his cheeks and say, “Be safe Dima.” He wraps his small arms around you and gives you one last hug before taking the healer’s hand and walking away with her.

    The smoke grew thicker. Covering your nose with the sleeve of Newt’s coat you cough, and push forward. “Newt! Theseus!” you shout into the air. It was eerily quiet. Then a female calls out, struggling to form words, “Y/n! Over here!” Following the voice you gasp as you happen upon Tina, who is lodged underneath piles of stone from one of the falling structures. Swallowing your nausea, you notice a bone protruding from her thigh, her leg clearly broken. Bending down to check on her you ask, “Tina are you alright?” She struggles to put words together, coughing profusely. Her eyes widen at the sight behind you and she manages to choke out, “Behind you!” Whipping around, you watched as one of Grindelwald’s followers approached. Their eyes were glued hungrily to Tina, a murderous glint in them. As they raise their wand, you shout, “Bombarda Maxima!” Stone rains around the woman, but she continues to advance towards you. “Protego!” you shield yourself and Tina from a lethal spell. Panic rises up in your throat. “Confringo!” you bellow. The woman is blasted back and knocked into a stone wall, becoming unconscious. Coughing you turn to Tina, “I have to obliviate her. Then you need medical attention.” Rushing forward to obliviate said woman, you’re stopped by a shooting pain running through your stomach. “Oh god!” you wail in pain. Worriedly, you press a hand to your stomach, concerned for your baby. A thick sense of dread fills you as you feel your pants grow wet. “Oh no,” you begin crying. You felt the baby drop. Another blast in the distance pulls your from your daze and you pull yourself together, suppressing your sense of impending doom.

    Ignoring the woman who attacked Tina, you walk doubled over to Tina, as a contraction washes over you. “Ahhh!” you moan in pain. When you reach Tina she looks at you worriedly. Standing above her, the rubble left dirt all over your face and your hair falls around you in frizzy strands. You clutch your stomach and groan out, “Tina. The baby. She’s coming.” Still useless with her broken leg Tina doesn’t hesitate in telling you, “Go!” You shake your head, “But Tina you’ll be trapped here!” She objects, “Y/n, someone will find me. Your baby is coming now. Grindelwald is here, you need to go. Now!” It takes everything you have in you to tear yourself away from her but you leave her with a promise, “I’ll come back. I’ll make sure someone finds you!” She simply responds, “Go!”

    As you struggled to continue you, the contractions grew more intense. You soon realize you’re not going to be able to keep walking like this. Another contraction hits you and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing away the pain. Your legs give out beneath you and you cry out in pain. “Newt!” you shriek your fiance’s name into the air. Muttering through the contractions you whisper to your belly, “Just hold on baby girl. Please hold on.” “Newt!” you shriek again, hopeless. “Merlin’s beard,” you grit your teeth. Pulling out your wand you send a patronus to Newt, only managing to get out the phrase, “She’s coming now. St. Mungo’s tent.” Sending the patronus off with your last bit of energy you close your eyes briefly. In a last ditch effort you send red sparks up into the air, above the smoke, signaling you needed help.

    Time crawled as you pushed through your contractions, swallowing the pain. “Please baby girl just hold on a little longer,” you speak down to your bump. Another contraction hits and you moan in agony, your surroundings beginning to spin. “Oh no,” you slap your cheek, trying to stay focused. You could not faint now. Absolutely not. Footsteps echo in your ear, seemingly surreal. Looking up, you see Theseus standing above you.

    The sleeve of his suit jacket was torn and blood dripped from a gash on his forehead, but he was there. He found you. “Thes,” you grunt, reaching for his hand. His eyes nearly drill a hole in your head, his look filled with worry. “Y/n what’s happening?” he pleads. Sweat dripping from your forehead you manage to gasp out, “Baby. She’s coming. Now.” Theseus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He babbles, “We’ll get you to the medical tent. Come on.” He grabs your hand to disapparate but you stop him. “Theseus I can’t disapparate. The baby,” you beg. Without a second thought your future brother-inlaw scoops your heavily pregnant body into his arms and carries you away. He jogs as quickly as he can towards the medical tent.

    Meanwhile Newt finished fending off another one of Grindelwald’s followers. And before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, your glowing white patronus approaches him. His mind goes fuzzy as he hears you utter, “She’s coming now. St. Mungo’s tent.” “Oh god,” he runs a hand through his hair, his worry consuming him.

    Theseus rushes into the tent, nearly dropping you. “I need a healer!” he shouts frantically. A young woman approaches and quickly assesses the situation. “How many contractions?” she asks as her and Theseus move you onto a cot. Theseus looks to you to answer the question. “Maybe 20,” you grunt as another one hits. Another healer comes with a wet cloth and wipes the sweat from your eyes. “Deep breathes,” she urges. Theseus politely turns away as they assess how far along you are in delivering. The first healer declares, “You’re nearly there. Just a couple more contractions and it’ll be time to deliver.” Panic fiils you. “Where’s Newt? I sent him a message,” you moan and squirm in pain. Theseus crashes to his knees beside you, letting you squeeze his hand. “He’ll be here. He’ll be here,” he reassures you. Squeezing his hand till it’s purple you push through another contraction. “Theseus,” you begin. Knowing you well he shakes his head immediately, “I’m not leaving you alone. I won’t leave. At least not until Newt gets here.”

    Not knowing where it is, Newt apparates to where the two of you first arrived and searches around desperately for any sign of medical staff. “Y/n!” he cries out. He feels hopeless, but then a ministry wizard passes him. Grabbing him by the collar Newt begs, “Where is the medical tent?” The man wordlessly points to the left. Newt races in that direction and sees the tent growing closer, pushing him to run harder to get to his girls.

    “Aghhh!” you cry out in pain, this time pulling at fists of fabric on Theseus’s suit jacket. Theseus dabs your forehead with the cloth, murmuring comforting thoughts. “Newt’s not here yet,” you sob helplessly. The healer checks you and announces, “She’s ready to come out. You’re going to have to push now.” Despair fills you. “Please he’s not here yet!” you beg. The healer sympathizes but states, “I can’t slow this baby down.” Suddenly your prayers were answered as your tall fiance with cinnamon hair barrelled towards you. “I’m here my love I’m here,” he announces, crashing onto his knees beside you. “Y/n 20 seconds until you push,” the healer declares. Groaning, you grab Theseus by his tie and plead between sharp gasps, “Thes. Tina. Trapped under rubble. Her leg. Broken. Find her!” Theseus nods and promises, “I’ll find her.” He leaves without a second look.

    Newt knelt beside you whispering a thousand apologies in your ear. “Y/n it’s time to push,” the healer declares. “I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t be a mother,” you sob into Newt’s chest, admitting your worst fears. Newt assures you, “If anyone can do this you can. I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to her. You can do this. Now push, push as hard as you can.” Nodding at your fiance, you squeeze your eyes shut tight, grinding your teeth. White hot pain flashes through your lower half as you deliver your precious child. And then the pain is replaced by an immediate release of pressure. Sighing, you collapse against Newt’s upper body, which leaned over the cot supporting you. Then your world shifted.

    Soft, tiny wails fill your senses. Immediately you blink your eyes open, searching for you daughter. Turning your neck, you see her lying in her father’s arms who stood above you, cradling her so gently. The sight stole all of your breath away. Newt’s mixed green eyes were filled with emotion as he stared down at his child. You’d never seen him so transfixed before. Watching silently, you listen as Newt’s voice shakes, “You are so beautiful. Just like your mother.” You manage a small laugh, “Thanks.” Newt’s eyes shoot down to you and he smiles. Scooting over, you motion for Newt to sit down beside you with your daughter. He sits next to you and croaks, “I never thought I could love something so much.” You nod knowingly, “I know what you mean.” Newt presses a kiss to your forehead and asks, “Do you want to hold your daughter?” You nod, overcome with emotion. Newt hands you your beautiful girl and you look upon your bundle of joy for the first time.

    She instantly moved you to tears. With tiny cinnamon curls and freckles just like her father, her eyes blinked back at you, the same color as your own. She scrunched her nose and cooed softly. “Oh she’s perfect,” you breathe. Newt nods. “I love her so much,” Newt brushes the soft baby curls from his daughter’s forehead. Then he asks, “What should we call her?” You immediately respond, “Demi. It has to be Demi. When you were in Paris Dougal took care of me. She wouldn’t be alive without his help.” Newt is overcome with emotion but manages to choke out, “This is why I love you,” at the idea of you naming your child after one of his creatures. “So Demi?” you ask. “Demi,” he confirms. Demi seems to like this as she cooes with contentment, flashing her large eyes at you. “I would do anything for her,” Newt states. You nod, agreeing with him. A crash pulls you from your daze to the entrance of the tent. Theseus stumbles in, carrying Tina in his arms. “Oh thank god,” you sigh in relief at Tina finally getting medical attention. Once she’s tended to Theseus starts to walk over.

    His gaze falls to his niece and you hear him take in a sharp gasp. “My god she’s gorgeous,” he whispers. You smile, “I know.” Newt asks his brother, “Would you like to hold her?” Theseus nods eagerly. So Newt hands his brother his newborn daughter and watches as he stares adoringly at his niece. “What’s happening out there?” you cautiously ask Theseus. Tearing his gaze from Demi he says, “The situation is contained. For now. The department of the Statute of Secrecy as well as the healers will take it from here. We have 30 attackers in custody. I have to go to the ministry soon. But I couldn’t without meeting my niece first.” You grin at his affection for the tiny girl. Looking to Newt, you both think the same thing. Newt nods his head in approval so you ask, “Thes? Will you be her godfather?” Moved to tears, he nods his head emphatically. After another five minutes of staring at his godchild, Theseus sighs, “I have to get going. But I want you two to stay home and enjoy this. Keep her safe.” Handing Demi back to you Theseus asks, “What’s her name?” You grin, “You might not get it. But her name’s Demi.” Theseus manages to suppress an eyeroll and replies, “I grew up with Newt. I understand exactly.” Smiling you whisper, “Thank you Theseus. For finding me earlier.” He nods. Pressing a kiss to Demi’s tiny forehead, he reluctantly leaves.

    Hours pass as you and Newt stare lovingly at your child while you regain your energy. After introducing Tina to your precious baby girl, Newt admits, “I would very much like to go back home with your now.” “Me too,” you sigh. You hand the baby to Newt, trusting him to disapparate with her. Taking his other hand, your brand new family goes home.

    It felt good to be back in your London home. You sit on the couch in the living room, cradling Demi, while Newt puts your coats away. A thought occurs to you. “Newt?” He walks over to you planting a kiss to your cheek before answering with a soft, “Hmmm?” You laugh, “We don’t have a nursery.” Newt laughs with you, “No we don’t do we.” A small paw tugs at your pants and you look down to see your daughter’s namesake, Dougal the Demiguise. “Dougal what is it?” you ask him. He turns and saunters off, leaving you and Newt to follow.

    He walks into the bedroom you share with Newt and proudly presents a white wicker baby bassinet. “Dougal it’s beautiful,” you praise him. He smiles proudly. Gently, you sit on your bed and rock Demi as she softly mewls. Newt watches on, transfixed by the beauty of you holding his child, the girl that was as much like you as she was like him. His daughter. He felt an overwhelming sense of pride. Wordlessly he sits down beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders. Dougal tip toes with curiosity, anxious to see the child he protected inside you. Holding her down to his height you tell him, “Dougal, this is Demi. Our baby.” Dougal brushes her tiny curl from her face and smiles widely at the tiny child. He gently squeezes her tiny hand with his own and admires her quietly. When he’s content, he walks back down stairs.

    You could sit there for hours, staring at this gorgeous human being. “I love that she has your curls and freckles,” you confess to Newt. He chuckles, “And I love that she has your eyes.” Leaning into Newt’s chest, you let your daughter rest in between the two of you. “We’re so unbelievably lucky,” you whisper. Newt replies, “I’m lucky. I have the two most beautiful girls in the world.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head and breathes in your ear, “I love you so much. You have given me the greatest gift.” You beam with pride, “I love you too Newt.” And neither of you sleep that night. Instead, you both watch from the bed, snuggled tightly together, gazing upon your sleeping angel.

[sylveradrake]

Pixel art commissions are open!

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Frequently Asked Questions (Please Read!):

    [ ? ] Are these all the options you have for commissions?     [ A ] These are primarily just examples of things I've done consistently in the past! If you have a more 'custom' idea, we can certainly discuss it! I've been doing pixel art for over four years, so I have some decent experience, but like every artist I have limits to my current abilities. You can see both my Tumblr and DeviantArt galleries for more examples, including the options for the line styles, animations, and shading!     [ ? ] What ARE all those options under the examples?     [ A ] Hard lines means the piece will have "hard", solid black lines between each "section" of the piece: the outline, and between all the different colors, etc. Lineless means that rather than having that solid black line, I use a slightly darker shade of each color to outline them, like the full body dragon! This gives it a softer, 'lineless' look.     Cell shading means that there's just one color used to shade, rather than a blend. The Kakashi doll on the far left has cell shading: just one color in a hard shape. Smooth shading means what it sounds like: a few colors are blended from dark to light to make the shadows smoother!     I do a few very basic animations for certain dolls or icons when requested. Typically this refers to a one-pixel "bob", and a blink cycle. I can also have a doll open its mouth and bring up a small speech bubble if you'd like them to say something! Please bear in mind that animation takes additional time and effort, and though not required, additional support is appreciated for animated pieces!     [ ? ] Why are there things you refuse to draw?     [ A ] For the most part, it's simply a matter of preference. For others, it's a matter of ability. Some things are just a bit too complex for me to feel I can pull it off in a fashion consistent with the rest of my work, and therefore being worth your money! Hence a limit on complex poses and the number of characters per shot, or complex designs, like mecha. Other things like the ship limitations are just personal preferences that make me uncomfortable. The NSFW ban is mostly due to most hosting sites not liking to host mature artwork...and also a matter of both my ability, and personal preference.     [ ? ] What constitutes NSFW?     [ A ] For me, this includes any nudity that shows genitals - nipples and / or breasts are fine. This also includes anything sexual, including any and all fetishes, even if genitals are not shown. I also do not do heavy gore. I may expand this umbrella term if anything not already covered comes up!     [ ? ] I can't afford a commission, but I'd like to help! What can I do?     [ A ] You can share this comm sheet and / or my art with your friends! Getting the word out might mean finding someone able and willing to order a comm, which of course is a big help!     [ ? ] Do you do requests?     [ A ] Unfortunately, not at the moment. If you'd like me to draw something for you and the comms are open, you're more than welcome to order something! While I do do personal art for myself and for friends, I can't make free art for everyone. In the future I may do something akin to raffles, but for now, we're starting with the commissions!     [ ? ] Can I donate without ordering a commission?     [ A ] You most certainly can, and it's very much appreciated, and would be a huge help! Of course it is NOT an expectation: no one has to donate if they can't or don't want to. But if you just want to throw some general support in to help me keep creating, you're more than welcome, and I'd appreciate it tremendously     [ ? ] Do you accept DeviantArt points?     [ A ] I do not. To put it bluntly, DA points can't pay my bills. I have nothing I need that DA points can buy, so I only work with money. Sorry!     [ ? ] Do you do anything like art trades?     [ A ] For the moment, no - but I might in the future! I'm open to the possibility, but for now (and for this post's purpose), I'm working on commissions! If I ever open up art trades, I'll be sure to make another about it!     [ ? ] How is best to contact you?     [ A ] Any of the above listed social media! Here on DA, please send a note with a subject line about commissions. On Tumblr, you can send an ask (off anon) which I will reply to privately. You can also send an IM! Email also works: just include commissions in the subject line. I do my best to check all of these sites a few times a day, but there may be times where I'm limited. I'll try to post ahead of time so you know why I'm not responding promptly! Otherwise, it could take me about a day to get back to you. Please be patient! I have other responsibilities. I may also take hiatuses if I feel the need. If I go more than a few days without responding and haven't given any warning, there's probably something keeping me from my messages, and I'll do my best to get back to you as soon as I'm able!     [ ? ] What's your policy on refunds?     [ A ] So long as I haven't finished flat coloring your piece, you can get a full refund, of course! But once the piece is lined AND colored, I've put in a good bit of work, so I'm afraid I won't be able to refund you. As stated on the sheet, you can ask for an update on the piece any time! And I will send you the cleaned sketch once it's finished to see if there's anything you'd like changed. Though please bear in mind some things can differ between sketching and lining, especially when shrinking down to pixel. A sketch is a general outline, not the full product!     [ ? ] Are there any other circumstances where you might refuse a commission?     [ A ] Honestly it depends. I hope not to encounter any other reasons beyond my general rules, but I DO retain the right to say no to any commission for any reason, which I don't have to disclose. If I do say no, please respect that decision. It's never anything personal.     [ ? ] Where does the art go once it's finished?     [ A ] Any commissioned art, by default, will be posted to my DeviantArt, my Tumblr, and on Ko-fi! I'll also send you a copy / link through whatever means you contacted me with. If you'd like your art to be private, you need only ask. I will then only send YOU the art, and it will NOT be posted anywhere else. I can also post the art anonymously if you’d like it posted, but your name not attached to it.     [ ? ] How can I use my commission(s)?     [ A ] Any way you like UNLESS it's commercial - in other words, if you make any money using the artwork. Please also do not trade or sell the artwork. Otherwise, feel free to use it for any personal use you'd like! You can also repost the art so long as you provide a link to my original post. If your comm wasn't publicly posted, a link back to any of my social media will suffice! Just always be sure to use proper credit so people know where the art came from! That way they can find my pages, and maybe get a commission of their own!     [ ? ] Do you do fanart?     [ A ] I do! My commissions are all one-off, unique jobs, and I'm hardly about to impact any IP markets. So long as it's a large fandom (no Disney, though - that's one I won't touch), and my art wouldn't greatly impact the profits and livelihood of other creators, I can do fanart. But I DO prefer to do original art! It's great to work with new designs, and help give original characters more art for them! Gimme OCs to draw!     [ ? ] Can you design a character for me, like a custom adoptable?     [ A ] I can! Just bear in mind that I'll need as many details as possible to make something that fits your vision! I'll also need to work with you more than typical to be sure we get it as accurate as possible, so be prepared for a lot of communication until we get it looking as you want!     [ ? ] Can you do gifts - in other words, can I order art for another person?     [ A ] I do, and you certainly can! Just be sure to let me know who the gift is for, so I can tag them! If they don't have any of the social media I use, you can just give me a name or screen name to post with it. A gift will just cost you the same as any art you'd order for yourself! Also please do be sure you have permission to commission art of characters owned by another person!     [ ? ] What do you mean by 'item'?     [ A ] Each individual pixel piece! One lone pixel doll of 150 pixels would be four dollars! But if you want two dolls interacting, it's four dollars EACH. So eight dollars. That's because I still have to sketch, ink, color, shade, and possibly animate EACH doll! Twice the effort means twice the price.

[elle-eedee]

dcom daddies: ranked

whats up sluts i’m here to give you the content you did NOT know you needed: a foolproof algorithmic ranking of a mild selection of disney channel dads!

beast (descendants)

hotness scale: extremely tall (over a foot taller than me! this is Very Important to the scale) and he seems to be a mere thread’s width away from Unhinged at all times, which i love. i also think it’s very sexy of him to still have such a monstrous way about himself (what with the roaring and the growling) 20something years post-curse.... makes me wonder very vividly if such energies carry to the b*droom........ *clears throat* 10/10

quality of character scale: it eternally amuses me that beast seems to learn almost Nothing over the course of this trilogy. he’s literally pro-isle the ENTIRE time jsjdndjdjd..... not great considering it puts him directly at odds with his son (and, like, with social progress) but he Does seem to act the way he does with the kingdom’s safety in mind! plus when he’s not accidentally supporting magical fascism he’s super dorky. i love his goofy dance moves 7.5/10

total score: 17.5/20...... with this score alone you can tell this system isnt rigged bc if i had it my way he’d be winning

hades (descendants)

hotness scale: i hate his party city clown wig but i’m a total sucker for guys in makeup (EVEN THOUGH A DECENT SHADE OF LIPSTICK WOULD HAVE BROUGHT HIS ENSEMBLE TOGETHER. WHY DID THEY PROPOSE IT ON THE CHARACTER DESIGN WALL IF THEY WERENT GONNA FOLLOW THROUGH!!!) and i think the fact that hes Very Sleepy and doesnt own a dog makes him my dream guy 9.5/10

quality of character scale: he literally sings a song about how cool he thinks it is that he’s a shitty dad............ but he DOES come through when his kid needs him, so that’s nice i guess. i would have liked to see more of him but i’ll settle for reading and writing intricate fan works that delve into a hypothetical personality for him that’s mainly conjecture 7.25/10

total score: 16.75/20 i wanna see him in some preppy auradon clothes

jafar (descendants)

hotness scale: i wish i had nicer things to say about this man. he just....... bears so little resemblance to the original jafar it makes me :( maybe if he was more gangly, or if he carried himself w the same potent gay energy that og jafar has? itd also help it he wasnt a racist caricature. 4.5/10

quality of character scale: again, very much a racist caricature. jafar doesnt steal!!! why would This be what he chose to do with himself! but he does seem to be, perhaps, the least bad of the core four’s parents, which counts for something i suppose. 3/10

total score: 7.5/20 sorry bud

dr facilier (descendants)

hotness scale: listen. it’s dr facilier. what am i supposed to do, NOT give him a perfect score on the sexy scale? 10/10

quality of character scale: he just loves his daughter and wants to make sure she’s getting what’s hers!!!!! his dynamic with celia makes me really happy they seem so fun! though i guess you could argue it sucks that he’d send his darling babey dohter to do errands for big mean scary hades considering that Everyone on the isle seems to quake at the sight of him. but im sure facilier only does that to ensure that celia can hold her own! 8/10

total score: 18/20 and it’d probably be higher if we’d seen more of him

mr smee (descendants)

hotness scale: not only does this man fuck, judging by the ages of his kids he fucked RECENTLY. get it baby live your truth 7/10

quality of character scale: he seems to be SO kind and sweet to his baby sons..... holding their little hands and such!!! and judging by how nervous the kids are i’d imagine it was primarily smee’s idea for them to go to auradon. extremely noble sacrifice for their benefit even though he’ll miss them 10/10!!!!!

total score: 17/20 i want to kiss his hand, if he’ll have me

zevon necrodopolous (zombies)

hotness scale: every time i look at this man i think of this post. he’s the perfect amount of frumpy for my tastes and his voice is so unique!!!!! i’d let his z-band malfunction so he could *** ** ***** * ******* **** 9/10

quality of character scale: really really cares about his kids and wants them to be safe!! he raises his voice once which im not a huge fan of but i suppose it was justified given the circumstances. also that shot of him goofing about with d*le in the end scene shows remarkable capacity for forgiveness after decades of trauma and discrimination! what a guy. 9/10

total score: 18/20 an absolute dilf!!!!!

dale (zombies)

hotness scale: looks like an uncrustable. 0/10

quality of character scale: a fucking cop. die bitch! 0/10

total score: 0/20 get in since you wanna act clown

coach jack bolton (high school musical)

hotness scale: honestly pretty young for my tastes. and i literally Always swipe left on athletes, so..... fine looking, but not for me. 5/10

quality of character scale: obviously he grows as the series progresses but i feel like jack is Always in the way of troy getting what he wants, which sucks. i like that he’s kinda goofy on his off hours with his family exactly as much as i Hate how much he yells when hes on the job. i do wish we lived in the timeline where he and miss darbus actually had that duet about their disagreements, though. 5/10

total score: 10/20 truly an Average dcom daddy

vance evans (high school musical)

hotness scale: due to personal reasons i will be having bad taste. however, this man’s fashion sense in IMPECCABLE. i mean, the colors??? the unbuttoned collar???? come on now. there is also the gratuitous use of the d-word to consider......................... anyways 7.5/10

quality of character scale: it’s hard to tell how much of his interest in furthering troy’s career is out of sincerity and how much of it is sharpay nudging him. but either way the result is a man who supports his daughter unconditionally! he could be nicer to ryan, though (plus he’s an evil capitalist) 6/10

total score: 13.5/20 i feel like he and fulton have had Relations

mr gifford (lemonade mouth)

hotness scale: listen, i’m a simple guy. i see a basic-looking man pursuing age gap romance in the midst of a mid-life crisis, i support him unconditionally. also i am just Really vibing with that oversized denim shirt on him!!! there’s an egregious amount of arm hair poking out that just works. good for him! and this is a small moment but i’m very flustered over his natural Touchy Feely instinct after wen pokes out his eye... however: man has no eyebrows. 8.5/10

quality of character scale: i’m not a child of divorce so i don’t know how this stuff works, but i feel like he springs a lot of major decisions on wen? not ideal. on the other hand, we DO stan that he has sydney move in before they’re married. this is not a christian home!!!! 6/10

total score: 14.5/20 probably my favorite lemonade mouth dad, but mostly because he’s like the only one paid any attention by the narrative

mr banjaree (lemonade mouth)

hotness scale: men really have beautifully sculpted noses and we just let them, huh. i’m definitely overusing the word Handsome in this list, but in this case? i’m justified. mr banjaree’s beard suits him SO well and his hair looks so soft...... and we love the implicit cleanliness of a man who wears socks in the house! 8/10

quality of character scale: i super SUPER dont agree with this man’s Smothering-Adjacent Methods (and also i know firsthand that strict parentage just drives kids to be more rebellious, lmao) but all things considered he really just wants the best for his family PLUS he’s willing to meet mo halfway at the end! :’) 6/10

total score: 14/20 the way i feel about him is the way i feel when i get crushes on pastors in that You Are Complicit In My Trauma But We’re Gonna Kiss About It way

mr delgado (lemonade mouth)

hotness scale: OOOOH GLASSES! 5/10

quality of character scale: it’s sort of implied that the Wacko Energies of charlie’s family are mostly the fault of his mom so it’s cool of this man to distance himself from that. he is, of course, still complicit in Whatever The Hell Her Deal Is unless he is constantly fighting with her offscreen 6/10

total score: 11/20 would have loved to see more of him

mr yamada (lemonade mouth)

hotness scale: another chapter in the saga of unbuttoned collars! doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to show off his strengths but i appreciate that he is not the thinnest dad in town 6.5/10

quality of character scale: WOW fuck this guy. very dismissive of stella’s aspirations!!!!! i don’t like that he feels the need to talk Over her to her mom when he’s asking about her vegetarianism. dude she is right there.... however it’s a lil touching when he holds her guitar up at the end, so... 4/10?

total score: 10.5/20 *thinks about his slightly protruding tummy in his last scene* *thinks about his slightly protruding tummy in his last scene* *thi

bob duncan (good luck charlie: it’s christmas!)

hotness scale: in keeping this Specific to the feature-length xmas special, i will say that bob duncan is QUITE handsome! disappointed that he was wearing a shirt in the scene at the pool.... ill bet if this movie came out post-workout/makeover he’d have been shirtless >:/ i feel robbed... spare tummy, sir? spare tummy? additionally i love a man who rolls up his sleeves AND a man who stans kaiju movies!! also i love that he, quite literally, canonically fucks 8.5/10

quality of character scale: he’s about as charmingly incompetent as he is in the show, but the difference here is that he literally did not do a damn thing wrong! all he wanted to do was be civil with his inlaws and he frankly deserves MUCH better. its clear from his banter with the kids that he loves them very much (also i love how frequently he feels the need to jump/dive for things in this movie. silly slapstick icon) 8.75/10

total score: 17.25/20 this man’s mere presence oozes nostalgia

jerry russo (wizards of waverly place: the movie)

hotness scale: this man was MADE for me. the bottomless collection of hawaiian shirts....... the TWO tummy out scenes..........the fucked up evil thing his voice does when the kids try to steal the spellbook!!! he really has it all. also i love that he is truly just trying to have some beach intercourse 9/10

quality of character scale: i love that even when he doesn’t remember the kids he still maintains a little dadly rapport with them? the instincts...... it’s also incredibly good of him to relive his decision to give up his magic without hesitation once he realizes the severity of the situation :’0 10/10

total score: 19/20 i’ve never seen an episode of the show but im really about to start

neil morris (dadnapped)

hotness scale: handsome....... mr morris makes me feel simultaneously like a sapiosexual AND a morosexual because although he completed enough schooling to become a dentist, he also threw it away for a writing career like an absolute champ. also i find it unbelievably charming how Along For The Ride he is about the idea of being kidnapped. a man after my own heart 8.25/10

quality of character scale: this is a tricky one...... neil DOES show active concern for his daughter’s safety when push comes to shove, but he also has my least favorite type of redemption arc: “you THOUGHT i was neglecting you, but actually i was thinking about you the whole time and just never expressed it! we good?” so like. bleh. but he’s pretty mild mannered which i deeply appreciate in a man! 6.5/10

total score: 14.75/20 maybe talk to your daughter instead of writing a macgyver ripoff, dumbass

major joe mason (princess protection program)

hotness scale: prime dad bod, very believable for his line of work. also he has such a Gentle Way about himself when he’s around princesses....... i love all the hand holding when he’s escorting rosie. absolutely my type 8.75/10

quality of character scale: gosh.... where do i even BEGIN!!! his whole dynamic with carter is so ideal... i was apprehensive at first because his job would require him to be Absent a lot of the time, but upon reflection it’s clear that he’s raised carter well enough that he can totally trust her to be on her own, and also she’s only sad to see him go because she sincerely enjoys his company. everything about his profession is so noble and i love the way he can carry himself as casually or as politely as a given situation calls for. worst thing he does is say “i might have to stop calling you ‘pal’” because his daughter is wearing a pretty dress. i wish he was my dad but i’ll settle for him being my husband 9.75/10

total score: 18.5/20 i almost made a ppp self insert this morning specifically for Him

ted thompson (zapped)

hotness scale: athletes arent sexy!! this guy’s face screams The Only Websites I Know How To Use Are Facebook And Reddit and also he’s a dog person BUT he is sporting quite the tumbey if i do say so myself and for that i shall let him live. 4/10

quality of character scale: ok i know the whole point of this movie is Boys Bad but i hate men who are loud and i hate dads who get Weird about the inherent femininity of their daughters. when he calls zoey “sport” and then cringes like he’s made a mistake? dumb and unnecessary. HOWEVER all of his efforts to bond with zoey are really really sincere. like when he fixes her music box? that has NOTHING to do with the app he just Does It!!!! the movey mightve rubbed off on me a little too much but there are multiple ways to show love and just bc im not used to his way doesnt mean it has no worth! 6/10

total score: 10/20 mr thompson sir im sorry i doubted you at the start of the film

rob adams (radio rebel)

hotness scale: this man dresses 5-10 years younger than he looks and i respect that for him. but i was expecting him to be a bit more of a slimeball considering how tara talks about him in the opening scene... and you guys know how much i love slimeballs. regardless, pretty handsome! 6.5/10

quality of character scale: it’s nice that he goes to such a Public and Corporate effort to connect to his stepdaughter! even if it’s in a way that financially benefits him, it’s pretty clear that he cares about this family and wants to do right by them. nothing exceptional, though 7/10

total score: 13.5/20 i GUESS i’d be down to smash if he asked

ralph bartlett (read it and weep)

hotness scale: ok i was gonna say something mean about the fact that he’s balding but honestly he has really nice arms........ in addition he’s really quirky and optimistic which i am going to admire into my grave!! when he gets excited about having customers during the finale his voice quirks with an almost charlie day-esque charm. handsome. ALSO he calls jamie “princess” which is!!!!!!! something 7.5/10

quality of character scale: the way ralph parents his kids is Very 2000s in that he kinda babies his daughter but gets to pal around with his son, but i guess both dynamics come from a place of love and he could be doing much worse. plus he’s an honest hardworking small business owner! i support him 7/10

total score: 14.5/20 i would definitely go out for pizza with him

dr james hartley (how to build a better boy)

hotness scale: THIS. THIS IS WHAT DCOM DADDIES ARE ALL ABOUT. gosh..... this is truly the Most dad ive ever seen in my life. i love how his hair is always mussed..... how he’s so Desperate to relax that he falls asleep after Fifteen Seconds of smooth jazz..... and also. like. hes a scientist?? hello??? pretty sexy of him. i want to give this man the relaxation he deserves 10/10

quality of character scale: ok so,,,...,, kinda fucked up that he lied to his whole family (with the possible exception of his wife—sidenote, WHY did they make dr hartley married? his wife never comes up except when bart says she’s out of town. let him be single so i can slide into those dms) and EXTRA kinda fucked up that he works for the government? what a scab. BUT it’s very very clear that he cares about his kids (and gabby) and prioritizes their safety above all else! also, did you SEE how happy he was when mae won homecoming queen....... he loves her so so so much! :’0 8.5/10

total score: 18.5/20 i thirst tweeted about this man and roger bart replied ‘Aw, thanks!’ so i dont know where to go from here

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

When a God Finds a Girl (part 10)

A/N: SMUT. Smutty Smut. 18+ We go from Slow burn to inferno real quick so... you were warned.

The others just let the two of you sleep, staying quiet inside and keeping the party outside by the lake. You both looked tired and not the “staying up all night fucking,” tired that would have made them feel more inclined to wake you up. Besides, It’s sweet. Thor has you pinned against him, your long damp hair wrapped around his fingers, holding your head to his heart. The way you’re tangled up is innocent and comfortable. Something they know you’ve been in desperate need of since yesterday morning. So they let it go. Even Sam can’t grumble too much, at least Thor doesn’t have a handful of your ass or something.

It’s afternoon and the two of you finally stir, you because Traeger pushes a cold wet nose into the exposed small of your back and Thor because Traeger is eye level with him panting. You stir making soft kitten-like sounds and Thor chuckles, patting the dog’s head, “Couldn’t let me keep her to myself, could you?” he rumbled fondly, kissing your head as you set up slowly, rubbing your eyes. Traeger ruffs softly and plonks his head in your lap and you scratch it absently while getting your bearings. Thor feels like he can’t breathe for a moment. You look enchanting. A goddess, a forest nymph, someone he couldn’t dream up if he tried. Your hair has dried into a fluffy, wild mass. Your lips and cheeks are rosy. And your sleepy eyes are making him think of what you’d look like, satiated and looking up at him for goodnight kisses after he’s loved you. And you don’t even know how much he wants you. Thor silently decides that he better step up his efforts. You don’t seem to know how precious you are and that’s a crime against the gods. “Thank you,” you say softly when you can string the words together. Thor hummed, “For what, pet?” he asked. “For letting me sleep on you.” Thor sat up and kissed your cheek, “I should be thanking you,” he murmured, “I got to sleep for hours holding you and feeling all your beautiful curves pressed against me.” 

Your cheeks color and Thor chuckles, kissing your cheek again. “It was truly the best nap I have ever had,” he insisted, “not that I wouldn’t love to do it again after some slightly... less chaste circumstances.” You look at him slowly. You knew Thor liked you but he’d never been so forward. You bite your lip and smile a little. Thor feels his own heart flutter but you’ve gotten off the couch before he can tease out the meaning of the look you just gave him. Thor follows you, still shirtless and sweats slung low on his hips. Natasha and Bucky are teasing you gently but no one is actually irritated. Sam actually looks a little relieved that you look better. Not 100% but better. You’re wearing a tank top and some short shorts. Things that aren’t really “decent” to wear in public but still cover most of your body compared to your bikini. Thor now that he’s awake appreciates the effect of the shorts, he could admire that view for hours but averts his eyes making a mental note to have you put them back on when you’re alone. He wraps his arms around you from behind, a small possessive gesture and kisses your head.

You lean back into him almost without thinking, it had been nice all the times he held you. This is no different. It just feels so warm and safe that you don’t even mind his light possessiveness. Without really trying he’s soothing places in your soul that you didn’t know needed to be soothed. You wonder what it would be like, calling him your own. If he’d really want you after he’d seen all the exciting ways you could try and lose your mind. 

_________

It’s the last night at the lake and everyone turns in early once the house is mostly tidied up and the fridges and cupboards are cleared. You and Nat giggle and gossip about the boys, falling asleep holding hands. In a way, you both decided you needed a friend and so you just adopted each other. The spy is thankful. Her world is awash with men and sometimes a little girl talk is good for the soul. Thor is up early. He makes you coffee and waits patiently for you to come out of your bedroom. Your bag is packed and on your shoulder to be put in the jeep. Thor kisses you good morning making you blush, and hands you your coffee, taking your bag to go put it in the car. “You’re not even dating her and she’s got you trained,” Bucky teased from the porch with his own mug. Thor grinned, “She’s hosted us in her home for 5 whole days,” he said, “the least I can do is carry her bag.” Bucky snorted, “You say that until you’re tied to her bed and calling her daddy.” Thor pauses, “Is that not supposed to do something for me?” he asked, “Y/N could do whatever she liked to me but I’m pretty sure her tastes are probably not as exotic.” Bucky laughed, “I hate trying to joke with you sometimes. None of the dirty jokes ever phase you.” Steve kisses his cheek, “1500-year-old demigod, Buck.” Steve reminded him, “He’s probably been around a few blocks. A few times.”

The boys quiet at the sound of your footsteps and you walk by them, cheeks burning, and studiously not looking at any of them. You’ve done your fair share of ho-ing around, especially when you were high all the time but hearing it talked about so casually was uncomfortable. Traeger is oblivious and pulls you ahead, eager to run, so you follow, leaving them all in the dust. “Well now I feel like a dick,” Bucky said. “You should,” Natasha said, smacking the back of his head. She trots after you, smacking Thor on the arm on the way, catching up to you easily. While the two of you are gone, Sam presses them into service to help him get the house cleaned and locked down properly. He knows that those idiots have just been offensive somehow but he assumes you can handle it. When you return, Everyone is waiting outside having one last beer, “It’s 10am Sam,” you say laughing. “Yeah, but we runnin’ on lake time still. It’s always beer thirty on lake time,” he answers. You roll your eyes and Bucky hands you a beer in silent apology. You take it and gently punch his flesh arm, “I could take you if I had to,” you warn playfully, making him laugh. “I don’t doubt it.” You all finish your drinks and throw the bottles in the recyclables bag with the other sundry cans and bottles and Everyone gets into their respective vehicle, Thor swings himself into your jeep and you put Traeger in the back seat. Once you roll down the driveway, the others follow. 

Thor kisses your hand and laces your fingers together as you put your shades on against the sun. A warmth settles in his chest and he decides to take a plunge, “Y/N?” he asks, “Would you mind if I stayed the night with you tonight?” You look at Thor and smirk, “Well, I guess I don’t exactly have to go to work tomorrow,” you say, “And my apartment will be a little lonely.” Thor grinned and settled back in his seat. He liked it when you flirted with him. He also liked the thought of you wrapped around him whispering his name like a prayer as he made you come apart. 

The others head back to the compound without even wondering where Thor was going. The God of Thunder clearly had more on his mind than unpacking his bags and getting settled in. Sam tried very hard not to think about it. It was clear Thor was going to pursue you now whether Sam liked it or not. He just hoped the God knew what he was doing. He really didn’t want to have to kill him when he broke your heart. 

Thor enjoys the ride back to the city. He listens to you sing, he even sings along if he knows the words. One of his massive hands rests on your thigh and the other is behind his head. He looks so lazy and content that your heart does little backflips every time you look at him. When you pull up in front of your building, Thor helps you with the bags so you can manage Traeger up the steps but, any pretense at being a gentleman stops the moment the door closes and the dog is off his leash. He pulls you against him and claims your lips in a hot hungry kiss that makes you moan softly. The god chuckles as your hands fumble for the hem of his shirt and he practically rips it in his haste to pull it off himself.  He kisses you again and his hands find your ass to lift you up so he can set you on the nearest flat surface that happens to be your kitchen table. You wrap your legs around him and toy with the waistband of his jeans teasingly sneaking a hand down to caress his growing bulge. Thor groans and nips your throat, “So eager for me,” he teases, feathering ticklish kisses over your throat and collar bones before easily stripping you out of your tank top and bra to free your breasts. The sight of them bare makes him gasp softly. They’re more beautiful than he dreamed of and he wastes no time lavishing kisses and nibbles on them and singing their praises. Heat pools between your thighs as he takes his time exploring you. By the time he removes your shorts, he can hardly contain himself. He feels like an inexperienced youth again and his hands are trembling as he slides a finger into your wet folds, “Very eager for me,” he pants, touching you lightly. You’re beautifully responsive for him and he loves the way you sigh and shudder when he touches you so intimately. “Take me to bed?” you ask softly, “Please, Thor?” Thor closes his eyes. The way you say his name in the heat of your passion makes his knees quake. It’s like a jolt of lightning to his prick and he throbs for you. He has no choice but to comply, sweeping you into his arms and following your whispered instructions to your bed. 

Thor sets you gently on the bed and you waste no time in getting him out of his jeans as he toes off his sandals. When his dripping cock springs free at last he sighs in relief as the pressure from his jeans eases. You look up at him, heat in your eyes and slowly, teasingly lick up the underside of his thick shaft while gazing into his eyes. Thor groans half in agony half in bliss and silently begs for you to do that again, but you don’t. You lap at his cock head, little kittenish licks and grin at him when he makes a choking sound, “Let me ride you?” you ask, “If I don’t get you inside me soon it might kill me.” Thor laughs, a hearty belly laugh and traces your lip with his thumb, “I can’t have that,” he said, voice husky, “To let such a beauty go to waste is a crime against the gods.” He lays down on the bed with another groan and you straddle his hips, positioning yourself over him. Thor kneads your hips gently, helping you ease yourself on to him and you moan softly as you take all of him in. Thor is still, letting you adjust but he wants to rut into you so badly it hurts. “So tight for me,” he gasped. You grin at him, starting to move slowly, “You’re just huge.” He pinches your hip making you yelp and brings the other hand around to caress the little bundle of nerves he knows will make you come apart. You sigh, moving a little faster as you get used to the feel of him inside you. You ride him like your life depends on it, desperate to feel him come for you, desperate to come for him. It’s better than ecstasy. Just Thor’s gaze on you, growling about how pretty your tits look bouncing as you ride him. The sound of him growling like a beast as he drives you to orgasm on his prick, your slick juices all over his cock and his fingers. You’re burning so hot for him that you feel like you’re going to burst into flames. Thor does come with a howl and his grip on your hips is going to leave you sore but you don’t care. You ride him through his climax, milking him for every drop. And when he pulls you to his chest to hold you, you go, panting and sweating, trembling. 

Thor flips you underneath him like you weigh nothing and gently disengages from you, lavishing kisses on your belly and breasts as he parts your thighs again. The god of Thunder is not done making you come apart. He won’t be satisfied until you’re so sleepy and satiated that his kiss can’t stoke any more fire in you. You laugh softly, “Thor,” you start, but the laugh turns into a wanton moan as his tongue finds your clit. He can taste you and himself as he laps at you greedily. You’re overstimulated but god, god does it feel good. His clever tongue soothes the start of an ache where his cock was almost too much for you and you tumble into orgasm, again, and again, and then again, until you lose count. They come so quickly and the God offers you no quarter. He laps at you, hungry for you, as if he’d never tasted anything so sweet. When he finally does stop, you’re a limp, boneless, panting mess. When he pulls you into his arms, you go willingly. “Thor,” you whisper. And your lover only hushes you with a kiss, humming softly to lure you into rest, hoping to keep the quiet of the night ahead from making you feel like using.

Tags: @lancsnerd @amalthea9 @fatheadtheroger