#still trying to find the best glue for this stuff. wood glue is what I use for my actual pins. hot glue would probs work fine too

[bukuoshin]

Btw, my Arnold Palmer hairpin I'm making is so bad that I feel like I should pen a formal apology to the man himself.

Check it out 👇

Extremely simian-like... Idk how I did this nor how to fix it. Oh, well! He will just be extremely simian-like, I fuckin guess.

[lovrre]

Statue of Liberty~

Joel x fem reader

Word count:3k

Summary: Ellie plays wing man for Joel hoping to set you guys up, only to find out all Joel needed was a little advice and some glue.

Warnings:Reader is a little Bit of a mother figure to Ellie , fluff, curse words, smut, unprotected sex, squirting 🌝…idk probably some other stuff

You sit in the passenger seat of Joel’s truck, carving out a little figurine of the Statue of Liberty into wood with your knife. You realize Ellie woken up from her nap when you hear her start moving around restlessly in the back seat. She sits still for a while before resting her chin on the edge of the passenger seat’s headrest. “How long has it been, it’s hot as shit in this car!” Ellie says, turning to you, letting out a frustrated sigh. “About 30 minutes” you saying not breaking concentration “UHGG” Ellie grunts “I don’t understand why we can’t just all go in with Joel” Ellie says moving closer to look at what you’re doing.

“It’s better one person go then all of us be in danger” you say, not looking up from your carving. “Bull shit! it’s dangerous everywhere” Ellie says, rolling her eyes. “It’s funny to me that you know all these cuss words but probably can’t even spell the word beverage” you say, flicking off a chunk of wood with your knife.

Ellie goes quietly for a second before speaking “B. E. V. A-“ you quickly cut her off “stop you’re embarrassing me” you say, letting out a small laugh, Ellie mumbles crossing her arms “not my fault they didn’t teach me shit at that dumb ass school”

Ellie tries to stay quiet, but her boredom gets the best of her. “Is that supposed to be the Statue of Liberty?” Ellie asks, pointing to your carving. “Yeah, it’s from memory though, so it’s not that good”

“ No it’s good, It looks a lot like it” Ellie says, leaning over to get a closer look. “You’ve seen it in person?” You ask, finally looking away from the carving and up at Ellie. “Only in books and stuff, you?” Ellie asks, your face drops for a second, “yeah I lived in New York when I was younger ”. Ellie sees it hit a soft spot for you and changes the subject, “you’re not like the other old people” Ellie says plainly.

You scrunch up your face confused and look at Ellie, “Old??? I’m like 30, if that ” you scoff, returning your focus to your carving, trying not to think about the fact that this was the first time you’ve ever been called old. “ thirty’s not old?” Ellie asks Genuinely.

“ No it’s not, it’s a perfectly fine age” you say, partially trying to convince yourself. “

“if that” How don’t you know your own age?” Ellie asks, plopping back down on the seat. “ It’s not like I have a calendar. You lose track of time after a while you know… you could be actually 12 , you sure act like it” you say, wiping the pile of wood Shavings off your lap. “Hey!” Ellie laughs, hitting your shoulder. You shrug, “Just saying, how do you know someone didn’t just round up when you were a toddler?” .

“Haha hilarious” Ellie says sarcastically before going quiet actually thinking about it for a second. “ Back to what I was saying, I wasn’t trying to say it like you’re old, I just meant you’re not like the other OLDER people, you’re not all grumpy like-“ you both speak at the same time “Joel” you two laugh “well that’s because Joel is Actually old” you say bringing your focus back on your carving. “ How old is Joel anyway ?” Ellie asks, it takes you a minute to remember, “in his fifties I think” you say, focusing on the arm part of your carving. “DAMN…that’s old” Ellie says Dramatically. “ I know right” You laugh.

Something comes across Ellie’s face, like she remembers something. She leans in closer, placing her elbow on the center console and leaning her head on her hands like a kid daydreaming in class. “ Joel doesn’t look too bad for a fifty-something, right? ” Ellie says, raising her eyebrow. You’re to focus on your sculpture to realize what she’s doing.

“ No he doesn’t, he doesn’t look young, but he still looks good…you know sliver fox think” you say, unfazed, still carving at the mini Statue of Liberty. Ellie scrunches her face up in disgust for a second before speaking, “No, I don’t…” know”. You guys sit in silence for a second while You continue working on your carving. “Would you ever date someone that old?” Ellie questions hinting as something that you don’t get right away. “ Depends on- wait” you stop in realization and look up at Ellie. She gives you a tight lip smile, raising her eyebrows up and down. “No” you state plainly, “c’mon why not, he’s lonely, you’re lonely perfect match”

You roll your eyes, “wow, that’s all we have in common really?” You say, wiping more shavings off your pants. “Well you’re both old but If I say that you’re gonna get mad” you don’t even say anything, just stare at her from the corner of your eye. “ listen I would I just I don’t-“ just as you’re about to finish your sentence, Joel opens the door to the truck. He gets in the driver seat and Ellie smiles, “will finish this conversation later” Ellie says, giving you a wink. “We won’t” you say, giving her a tight smile. “We will~” Ellie whispers in a very quiet whimsical tone, you scrunch up your face at her odd behavior, “what conversation?” Joel asks, looking between the two of you. “Nothing you need to worry about right now, old man,” Ellie says, patting him on the shoulder. “Weird kid” Joel mumbles before starting the car.

After finding a remote place to in the woods to sleep for the night, you and Ellie sit in the bed of the pickup, your feet dangling off the edge. “ I need to go collect some fire wood, I’ll stay close by, scream if you need me” Joel says, walking towards the forest. “I’ll come with!” Ellie says, jumping off the bed off the truck to catch up with Joel. You watch Ellie run after him, “and I’ll just…stay here” you say, tapping on the side of the truck with your finger.

~~~

Ellie walks side by side with Joel, smiling ear to ear. “What the hell are you smiling bout?” Joel asks looking down at her “Only that I’m the best wing man ever,” Ellie says, giving him a cocky shrug. “What are you talking about?” Joel asked a bit worried, “I was talking to y/n about if she would date- ”. Joel interrupts her “-Ellie you didn’t” a mischievous smile creeps on her lips. “ I did”

~~~~

You sit in the bed of the truck, wondering how long Joel and Ellie would be gone for. You tried to combat it, but for some reason, the thought of what would it be like to be with Joel kept creeping up in the back of your mind. Not only that, but you didn’t hate it, but it just felt like something that was off-limits, but that also made it intriguing.

~~~~

“ I mean she basically said you were hot, and she would date you ” Ellie says optimistic, Joel takes a few breaths in before speaking. “ What did you say to her exactly” Joel asks, a little irritated. “I just asked her if she would date someone in there fifties”

“-Ellie” Joel sighs, wiping his face in frustration. “ Calm down…she basically said she would, and she said something about gray foxes?” Ellie say confused, “silver fox?” Joel says, “yeah that, she said you had that going on, whatever that means…more old people shit” Ellie mumbles the last part. Joel stays quiet for a second, enjoying the thought of you finding him any bit attractive, gave him. “ Don’t do that again. I can handle my own personal life, hear me”?

Ellie doesn’t say anything, kicking the stones under her feet. “ Do you Hear me?” Joel asks again for sternly . “Yeah, yeah, yeah whatever, I’m just saying do something nice show her you care ”

~~~~~

A day later, you proudly show Ellie your finished wood carving of the Statue of Liberty, and she is amazed by the level of detail you were able to achieve. “Bro, this is awesome where did you learn how to do this?” You really think for a second before answering , “I don’t even remember, I just Do it.” You say proudly, “Wow” she says as she runs her fingers along the curves of the figure. “Can you teach me?” Ellie asks, taking her eyes off the carving to look at you.

“ Yeah, I taught my sister, so it should be easy to teach you,” you say, for a second thinking about your old life. “ I used to make them in art class, and I’d go home and teach them, the carvings were a lot less details though because I was like 10” you say jokingly but a bit of sadness at the fact that your sisters Aren’t here anymore.

Ellie let out a small laugh and “I bet I could do better than 10-year-old you” Ellie Says, shrugging her shoulders confidently. “I’d like to see you try,” you laugh, pushing her shoulder. Joel overhears your conversation and even though you don’t outright say it he makes a mental note that he's not alone in his suffering—that you've lost people too.

~~~~

Joel and Ellie were walking alongside you while searching for supplies. You guys needed to look for some more food , so you drove into a presumably empty town. The streets were eerily quiet as you guys made your way through the abandoned streets. Suddenly, a group emerged from an alleyway at the end of the street. A mix of clickers and runners. Fear spread quickly amongst them, but Joel was determined to protect you and Ellie.

“GET INSIDE!” He yells, gesturing you guys inside the abandoned store. You get inside, but quickly realize the door was broken off its hinges and wouldn’t close. Just when you were about to panic, Joel calls out. “Help me push!” He yells, gesturing you to the large cabinet. You run over to Joel's side, helping him push down the cabinet. It makes a loud thud when it falls causing dust to pollute the air. It only blocking off the majority of the opening, leaving the top bit still exposed. “Shit shit shit shit shit” you curse, look for something to block the top.

As soon as you turn your back , a clicker slithers through the small opening. There was no hesitation, Joel swiftly grabbed a nearby shovel and stepped forward to face off with the monster, one hard hit and it stumbles back. A gun shot rings through the air and the clicker falls back with a thud. You look back to see Ellie holding her gun. Ellie lowering the gun a smiles proudly. “Good shot” you huff out, Joel looks around the room quickly for an Exit. “Out that way” he says, pointing to a small back door. Just before turning to the exit, you see your Statue of Liberty carving broken in three pieces on the ground. Your heart breaks a little at the sight, you move towards it for a second, debating whether you should grab it or not.

“FUCKING GO!” Joel yells, making you jump, you and Ellie run out the back door. After you guys are gone, Joel looks around once before slowly bending down, picking up the large fragment pieces of your carving and stuffing them in his pocket.

somehow you guys all managed to make it out unscathed. However, during the scuffle your wood carving broke, it shouldn’t have been a big deal, it was just wood. But it reminded you of home, not the QZ, home…life before everything, your sculpture breaking felt like a metaphor for never going to feel at home again. Ellie looked down at your empty hand, “where’s your sculpture thingy?” She asks, gesturing to your hand “It broke” you say, giving a sad tight smile.

You guys find and a pretty secure building to spend the night. There were two rooms right next to each other, connected by an entryway that you guys decided to hunker down in. You and Ellie found tents for all of you guys while scavenging. You and Joel start putting up your tents, and Ellie follows behind. “You don’t have to set up all the pieces if you don’t want to, you can stay in mine” you say, watching Ellie slightly struggling with the zipper on the bag. “No thanks I’m good, I actually want to sleep tonight” Ellie says, pulling out a rod from the back, looking at it confused.

“I’ll do it” Joel say walking over towards Ellie, “pay attention, so you can do it on your own next time”

~~~~

Ellie ended up sleeping in your tent, her head laying snug on your chest. During the night, you move uncomfortably, the hard floor still very present under the tent's thin fabric. You look down, realizing Ellie had slithered her way onto your chest, you slowly sit up, moving her gently back to her side. You rubbed your eyes annoyed, your back was hurting from the floor and your throat was dry. You knew you had some water in your bag right outside the tent, so you slowly unzipped it, careful not to make too much noise. Just as you're about to step on the ground, you look down to see your small Statue of Liberty perfectly intact. Your first thought was that Ellie must of went back and fixed it or something. You bend down to pick it up and see a small note made from ripped pieces of paper.

The note reads “I shouldn’t have yelled- j” you smile at the words before examining the carving. He really did a good job, there wasn’t even any glue residue, you almost couldn’t tell it had even been broken. You hear a rustling sound coming from Joel's tent, you walk through the entrance that separated the two rooms and stood infront his tent. “Joel you up?” You whisper looking at his tent for movement, “yeah, you alright?” he asked, voice sounding groggy from sleep. You hear him move and a second later he unzips the tent door, “sorry I didn’t mean to wake you I just wanted to say thanks for fixing my thing, sorry I thought you were already up.”

“ you're good, I know it’s not perfect, but it should last,” he says, wiping his face with his hand. You look over a bit in his tent that’s lit up by a little oil lamp and see an old can labelled “canned cake” with a fork stuck in it. “Eeew what is that” you say, climbing into his tent to examine the can. Joel sighs at your action, “did you eat this shit” you ask, picking up the fork and smelling it. “ Unfortunately” he sighs again, adjusting himself to make more room in the tent for you. “That bad?” You say, giving it another sniff, “definitely not good” he says, grimacing at the can. You take a small bite off the fork, really tasting it before coming to a conclusion.

“ I mean…for twenty years old it’s kinda good” Joel makes a face that shows his disagreement. Silence fills the air for a second before you speak, “Well… I just came in here to tell you thanks for” you lean outside the tent to grab your sculpture off the floor

”-this” you say, showing off your sculpture. “ You did good” you say, seeing the details better in good lighting. “ You’re welcome, by the way you reacted I guessed it meant a lot to you” he says watching your every movement. you stay silent for a second, really thinking before talking. “ Can I tell you something it’s a little off topic … I wanted to tell Ellie, but I didn’t think she’d get it, it’s deep, so prepare yourself.” Joel nods, and you zip up the tent for more privacy.

“ Before everything, before the infected and all that shit. I had a family two sisters, a mom and dad, a cat, the whole shebang. I used to make my sister carvings just like this all the time” you say, gesturing to the carving in your hand. “And well as you probably are guessed, she died, they all did actually… in front of me at that” you say, the familiar feeling of guilt bubbling in your stomach. “But you know I was so young… I know I couldn’t have done anything, I know I couldn’t…but it’s this feeling that I could have, it’s this feeling of knowing how the world used to be. It hurts… so bad, something about knowing that your favorite teacher is most likely dead. Or your childhood friends, cousins, uncles etc. do you feel that?”

You ask, fidgeting with your nails a tears welling in your eyes threat

” more than you know“ Joel says, pain lacing his voice. You look up to see the same sadden expression and glossy eyes as your own. Suddenly, as if something comes over you, you grab his face and kiss him. He returns the kiss, leading into it. You quickly pull away in realization. “ Oh my god I’m so sorry, I don’t know wh-“ Joel quickly cuts in, shaking his head. “ it’s ok, I get it, you needed some to talk to and-“ Joel cuts himself off when he sees you still staring at his lips longingly.

Joel watches you slowly bite your lip, trying to suppress the memory of the feeling of his own yours. “Fuck it” he whispers under his breath before quickly grabbing your face and pulling you into a kiss. You deepen the kiss my sinking your have into his hair and pulling him closer to your mouth. You let out a breathy moan and Joel grabs your back, pulling you towards him in a way that tells you to straddle him. You do, grind yourself against the hard bulge in his pants. “You wanna do this” he asks his thick country accent mixed with his groggy sleep voice making your core tighten.

“Yeah” you breathe out “Really bad” you whisper, kiss the corner of his mouth. “ We gotta keep quiet” Joel whispers, pulling by your waist, so you’re closer to him. “I’ll try, ” you whisper, pulling your shirt over your head exposing your breasts. Joel lets out a low growl from deep in his chest at the sight, quickly sinking his hand between the two of you work at his belt. He takes it off, throwing it to the side and shimming down his pants just enough so pull his dick out. It’s big, but you expect that you didn’t expect him to be so thick. “ Shit I don’t know if it’ll fit, you laugh while unbuttoning your pants.

“ I know you can take it” Joel says, a smile creeping up on his face. Standing up for a second, pulling off your pants and your underwear completely before returning to your position on Joel's lap. Your warm cunt rubbing against his shaft, causing his breath to become rugged. You start rubbing yourself against his cock back and forth, your wetness making it easy to slide along his length . “ I need it” Joel huffs out, he doesn’t say exactly, but you know. You sit up a little, so you can guide him into your entrance, your left hand keeping you balanced. Joel helps you, line himself up with you before grabbing your waist and pushing you down.

He stretched you out, the sensation making your legs shake on top of him. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, he guides you by your waist up and down on his dick. He lays back completely when you start moving on your own, bliss talking over his body. The lewd sounds of your juices and the slapping of skin filled his ears. Your legs began getting tired and your movements slowed. “ Ride me” Joel demanded his tone, deep and serious. You obey riding him with all your might, trying to keep moans at bey by biting the insides of your cheek.

“I’m about to cum” you whine, your legs shaking onto of him. Joel gets up a switches positions, so he’s on to of you missionary, his hand rests on your thigh pushing you leg back, so he has a better view of his dick entering your cunt. “Ohh god” you moan, the new angle hitting you deeper than before. You try to push Joel away, the sensation too much to bear.” take that shit” he groans, plunging deeper into your scratch at his arms as you feel the tight knot in your stomach breaking. “Take this dick baby” he groans again

You cum with what would be a loud cry if Joel hadn’t used his free had to cover your mouth. His other still holding your leg up, You moan into his had as you feel yourself coming around his dick. You squirt all over him, the loud sound of your juices intensify. “Fuck just like that” he says, his thrust becoming rugged. “Shit I’m gonna cum” Joel mumbles finale uncovering your mouth. “In me baby, cum in me” you moan squeezing your walls tight around him. Before he could even react, he was cumming inside you. “Shit-“

~~~

The morning came and you and Joel made breakfast with what whatever you food he had in his bag. You sit in comfortable silents watching Joel stir around the food with a fork over his makeshift fire. “I’m usually gentler than that in bed ”Joel says awkwardly, looking up from the pan and at you. “It’s ok, I liked it” you say, smiling. A loud voice interrupts your conversation “smells good” Ellie says, stepping out of the tent stretching out her arms. She walked over to where you and Joel were sitting and plops down next to him.

She leans over and whispers so only Joel can hear her. “Y/n didn’t come back to the tent last night…wonder where she was” Ellie smiles, elbowing him in his side. “Don’t” Joel replies sternly “best wing man” Ellie laughs

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS 🤭

[ghostlyshellofapuppet]

141 x crafty gn reader

Ok it's only August but I've started thinking about what I'm going to make my family for Christmas to start early, and this fic mentions nothing about Christmas. Also I'm newer to writing so if you notice something weird or not good please leave something in the comments to help me get better

Price

• Doesn't know anything about crafts except how to make those ships in bottles, wood working and glueing things together. Can't even imagine being able to make the things you do, seeing the process and the finished results, Price wouldn't be able to finish it or think of that in the first place.

• Is very proud of you once he sees you finish something, still doesn't know how you do it, but very proud. Any paintings, knitted items, clay objects, wood burning pieces, anything you make he is complimenting. You put so much time, energy and thought into that and you made it, good job.

• If you need help with anything Price will try, he's not the most crafty person but he has very steady hands. But if you happen to need help with something wood, he's got you, it's in good hands. Price has been woodworking since high school and it's never left him since he used to make small things on missions when he had nothing else to do

• I feel like if he had to pick another craft to pick, he'd be decently good or pottery, give him a little bit to find what pressure to use when shaping but will eventually make a mug for you

Ghost

• As much as I want to say he's into crafts, I can't see it that well. Yes he can sew but anything other than that and it's kind of a mess, but he likes watching you work and your processes. Watching you being so focused on something you didn't even hear him walking into the room with a drink and food for you since you've been at this for hours, and he loves that you can just relax like this, ( if you have been on the edge of giving up on it), but please take a break, you haven't blinked in two minutes.

• Ghost will take you to craft stores and just wander around with you, he likes messing with those posable hand models. He will also happily buy you whatever you want/need, more wire, a cake decorating set or also long as you don't burn yourself a wood burning kit

•If you tend to have most of your best ideas at night he tries to stay up with you so you don't stay up too late, but he can be distracted if you try to make him help. If not he's checking the clock every five minutes trying to decide when would be a good time to stop you

Gaz

•Likes pottery but doesn't do it often, he doesn't have a place too. His mother has a pottery studio he can use if he's but most times he's on base or out on missions. He can do some designs on the pottery and has an eye for details but isn't great with a paint brush.

• Also likes seeing you make stuff, Gaz used to watch his mom make new mugs and plates for the kitchen and would sit with his grandma listening to her stories. He finds it relaxing.

• Would help you with anything, Gaz can do a good amount of small craft just from stuff he's picked up over the years. He can sew, build and design very well and would love doing projects with you. You want to build a new coffee table, he's already getting ready to go to the hardware store.

• Gets excited towards the end of projects, seeing everything come together after working on it is very satisfying for him, especially if it's something you or can use. Build a table, he can't wait to set his drink on it.

Soap

• Is very happy when he sees your crafts and will want to show you his drawing if your interested. You also paint/draw, he wants you and him to draw each other and trade them at the end.

• Probably ok at other crafts but still tries. Don't let him around hot glue or resin, he doesn't mean to make a mess but he does, resin is on the floor and he likes playing in the cooled down but still moldable hot glue.

• He's likes watching you make stuff if he's tired but would like to help if you're okay with it when he's more awake. If you want to do crafts without his help he's also good with just drawing in his book, probably drawing you.

• Will cheer with you when you finish a project, if you've been working on it for a really long time it calls for take out, a movie and possibly more art supplies.

If you made it down here thank you for reading and I hope you liked it

[h2bakugou]

hello! May I please have a Dabi x fem reader in the lov who likes to draw? I think she finds his scars and stuff to be a work of art in itself and is like (oh heck I gotta sketch this). He glances at what she’s drawing and she gets all flustered! Maybe he even takes his shirt off at one point which can lead to some other things~ (I like smut but if you think fluff fits the prompt better that’s alright with me!) Thank you and I love your writing!

a/n: hii! of course love! this is super sweet omg i love dabi, i feel like i dont capture his character very well but imma try like hell😩😩this is probably ooc for him but it’s sappy and i love it

summary: dabi’s hard to read, but that doesn’t stop you from sketching him. you find beauty in his flaws, entranced by his scars, so much so that dabi can’t help but be interested in you.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, sappy romance bc i love this man, some spicy themes, one mention of a slight(possible? idrk what counts) manga spoiler (e.g. dabi’s past/history) (manga spoilers in tags!!)

wordcount: 2k

;cut due to suggestive themes;

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s never been a really big secret that you liked drawing. But when it comes to working for the league, specifically, the League of Villains, your line of work doesn’t allow for very much downtime unless you’re in the midst of planning some sort of attack or rebellion.

Whether or not the league keeps hopping from rendezvous spot to rendezvous spot isn’t up to you, but you never fail to get a little used to the eerily calming silence that falls upon the league during the first twenty-four hours of the new four walls that seem to keep you safe for the time being.

With a barely sharpened pencil in your hand, a small drawing pad in the other, you’re staring at Dabi as you sketch him.

It started as a bit of a joke, maybe just teasing him since he liked to tease you about being into him since you were the only one he was really super close, if you could call being the first one he spoke to every time he saw you or the one you sought out to be paired up with during missions, ‘super close.’

But now, it was something you enjoyed.

Dabi was one among the very interesting members of the league. Something about his scars just seemed to entrance you. Pulling you in further and further down a rabbit hole of questions that you had but never let leave past your lips.

It felt wrong to ask, not that it was a bad thing to be curious, but because Dabi was just so mysterious. No one knew anything about him, or about who he was, his past, even his real name was a mystery. 

It felt wrong to disturb the unnerving peace that was Dabi. The resting expression on his features balancing on a thin cable between anger and poor personal resilience.

Dabi’s scars were the highlight of your sketches, always standing out. What the others may have thought to be ugly, or unattractive, you thought were beautiful, and emotional.

There was a story behind them, one you wanted to know, one you wanted to uncover and read, page by page, line by line, and word for word, discovering just how truly deep Dabi’s past was. But only Dabi could show you that, only Dabi could open that book for you. And you were willing to wait. You’d wait an eternity if you had too.

His rough raven hair is messy and strewn about as you scribble down his facial features, the groggy lighting making it just a tad difficult to see as you lead the pencil over the warm white paper littered with graphite covered fingerprints.

His arms are positioned on a counter, the art work resembling how he was sitting sloped against the kitchen table, elbows pressed against the dark mahogany wood, hands resting by his mouth as his cerulean eyes peer off at the cracked cement wall in front of him, occasionally glancing back at you.

The other members of the league were scattered about but it didn’t bother you. Toga asked you a couple of questions, wondering what you were doing, if you were excited about the new plans and such.

You replied quietly as to not disturb the peace.

But soon some of the members left, going off to go eat or find something to do. And soon you were among the few left behind, along with Dabi, Shigaraki and Mr. Compress.

Having almost finally finished your current sketch, you were stopped by a pair of hands picking up your drawing pad. Rough and calloused fingers drew your pad away and your attention away.

“Hey I’m not finished.” You glanced up at Dabi. Dabi just admired the talent poured into the sketch. Dabi couldn’t wrap his head around why you drew him so often, but he didn’t mind. It was kind of touching in a way.

“Is that really what I look like?” Dabi joked, handing you back your sketch pad.

“You have looked in a mirror once before, right?” You titled your head to the side, adding a bit more detail to his scars as you began to draw again. 

“A few times. But I’d rather look at you, doll.” Dabi’s hands reached down again, this time pulling at your hands. Leading you out of the room where the other two members sat, finding a way to entertain themselves, Dabi lead you up some stairs in questionable condition.

Picking a random room, he sat down on the rickety bed and waited for you to sit down.

“Why’s that?” You tease, returning to drawing, looking up at him every few seconds to reference. And to admire him.

“You’re easy on the eyes, beautiful and-”

“Are you saying you’re not beautiful, Dabi?” You stopped him, not pausing to look at him.

“I’m not beautiful, I’m gorgeous.” Dabi chuckled, shaking his head jokingly as he laid back against the bed, his head dangling off the opposite end.

“You are.” You confirm. Finally finishing up your sketch. You get up and walk over to him, handing him the finished sketch. 

“You add so much detail to my scars. They’re just scars.” The tips of Dabi’s ears flush as heat floods to his face. He’s flustered but he won’t admit it. He can’t understand why you think he’s so beautiful.

You don’t speak. For the first time, you’re speechless. You sit down beside Dabi, and now that he’s sitting up, he faces you.

You reach your hands out and gently lift one of his arms, holding one of his hands in your own. You run your fingers across the scarred flesh, gently caressing his skin. 

His hands are cold compared to your warm fingers. He’s getting chills all down his spine as you touch him. It’s not meant to be anything out of the ordinary, but he’s still shocked that he’s letting you touch him.

“Your scars are beautiful. I’m sure there’s a story, something about them that might make you hate them, but I love them, and I think they make you that much more beautiful. You are a masterpiece, every scar a carefully calculated brushstroke on a beautiful canvas.” Your words finally come out, overflowing with love. You can’t sit quietly anymore.

“Dabi you are beautiful.” Your eyes lock with his, and you can tell he’s unsure of what to do. 

Dabi no longer felt he had the ability to cry, but if he’d let himself, he would’ve done it in that moment. Being so open and vulnerable around you just happened. It came too easily, and he hated it, but he loved you.

Pulling his arm away form your warm touch, he tossed his jacket off and to the side before tearing his shirt away from his body, allowing you to see his chest, and more of his scar covered skin.

Sitting quietly with a faint blush on your cheeks, you couldn’t look away. trying to avoid staring directly at his toned chest and his nipples, you raised your hand and allowed your fingers to sink down across his sternum.

Soon your fingers were met with his abs, which the heat on your face noticed far too well. 

“Say it again.” Dabi mumbled. You lifted your head to look into his eyes again, your hand still resting against his chest.

“You are beautiful-” The moment the words left your lips, Dabi’s own lips were pressed against yours. Kissing you roughly, more than he intended too, his hands mangled into yours, pushing your arms over your head.

His heart was pounding and it felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest onto yours. Pulling away for a few seconds, Dabi’s hair covered his eyes as he looked down, finding interest in the collar of your shirt.

“I want you.” Dabi’s words were simple, but they didn’t have to be complex. You knew what he meant, and you knew what he wanted. You wanted it too. A chance to see him in a different light, with deeper meaning.

A chance to connect with him, one on one. 

“Then take me.” Your fingers intertwined with his, your arms still resting above your head. It didn’t take long for his lips to magnetize back to yours, sticking to them like glue.

When Dabi thought about sex, he didn’t come anywhere close to making love. There wasn’t that sort of option when it came to him. He didn’t think he was at all capable of love, let alone a relationship that was going to have any sort of emotional connection strong enough to make him feel stable.

But you, you were so vastly different from anyone he’d ever fucked. So different from an excuse to get his dick wet, to get his mind off of league business or heaven forbid, his past.

But you, you were what he needed, what he wanted. It was far from therapy, but it’d work. Having you around was like a drug, addicting, and he’d be going through withdrawals if he couldn’t have you.

Feeling you, touching you, fucking you, kissing you, it was fuel to his fire. He was damaged goods, broken and shattered, impossible to put together, but you were doing your best, working on the smallest parts, exercising precautions, and opening your heart to him.

Hearing his name in the form of your moans as he rutted into you, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips drove him wild, much like the way your hands tangled into his hair, forcing his head into your chest where he kissed and sucked on your skin, leaving marks.

Your moans and his own grunts of pleasure were spewing from the locked room. Dabi didn’t care if the others heard, he was enjoying the moment.

Every part of it. Every part of you, every part of your body, your words, your love. And before he knew, Dabi was at his highest, his face flush against your naked chest, breathing heavily as he inhaled your scent.

Still inside you, he didn’t move, allowing the two of you to catch your breath. It was in this moment, if Dabi allowed himself to cry, he would’ve cried a second time. He was so infatuated with you, so attached.

“I love you.” Your words scared him, causing his cerulean eyes to peak at you through locks of his noir hair.

“That’s stupid.” Dabi kissed your sternum, kissing up your chest, stopping at your neck to leave a little mark, only to meet at your lips in the end.

“How?” You ask softly, your hands massaging his scalp as his lips hover over yours.

“I can’t explain it, it just is.” Dabi frowned, trying to understand what your eyes were saying as they clouded with emotion.

“Love is complex, and I think that maybe you’ve never really had good experiences with it. If you’d let me, I could show you just how beautiful it can be.” You offer, a small smile on your lips.

“If you feel the need-”

“I do. I love you, and I want you to know love.” You kissed his forehead. Dabi eventually pulled out, not minding the mess, he’d clean up later. 

“I want you to know why I love you.” You whispered, hugging him closer to you.

“Why I love your scars, your hands, your strength, the rasp in your voice, all of it. I love.” Dabi’s arms are strung over your waist as he lays, face nuzzled in your neck. It’s a bit of a stretch for him, and he feels out of place, but it’s oddly comfortable.

The next couple of times you draw Dabi, you ask to see him shirtless again. And with every new sketch, there’s something new to be learned, for Dabi. He’s learning about love, and loving you. 

He finds that you still draw him incredibly cute, and though he won’t admit it, he loves when you draw him. He’ll pose for you if you ever ask, and you always tease him a little about how it was like he was born to be a model.

It’s a long road ahead of you, but it’s one you’re willing to take, to show Dabi just how important love is.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Hey! A new wlw short story is up on my Patreon. Check it out! And please consider becoming a Patron for more wlw writing and more. As a struggling artist anything helps.

Here’s a free preview:

Headlights Girl

Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the land, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they shrank away from my gaze deep into their cages into the nooks and crannies. Most things do.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness and sleep. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There have been stranger kids born in the age of spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for small articles and mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy with fire on his breath. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father calls it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He doesn’t look at me much. And I know what he means. I know what he means when he calls it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. They could barely afford to send me to That School. I didn’t want to be there either.

We weren’t the same, not really. None of us are the same age and most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons under flat mattresses. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or have a pig-nose or blackhole for a nose. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he runs away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I’m 16 when I heel-toe my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with a collection of loose clothes, change, a bath towel, sewing kit, a bible written in a language I don’t speak, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he’s at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at Target and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There’s a beer in front of his idle hands and he glances at the bag on my shoulder.

He sighs like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafs through a wad of cash he kept in a safe in the garage. He hands me almost three hundred bucks and we nod at each other. I’m out the door before the midnight bus arrives.

I watch the headlights of the bus approach through dense summer night and think it must be like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I get on the bus and kick my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, I cross my arms over my chest, and watch the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet move like tides. They toss me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I taste the painted deserts toward the west. I dip my toes into the largest cities with lights brighter than my own. I graze my palms on neon signs and hunch my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touches me. They don’t come close enough when I open my eyes and they see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that will smite them.

I find my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gather. I don’t talk much, I don’t like to, and people stare at me whether I’m speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it aches. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’ve never seen a movie in any theatres, but I can imagine what it’s like.

I like the ocean cities best with their pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding white paths, and crushed seashell parking lots. I like the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkles from the ocean water as it sun-dries. I camp out on beaches and bum cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I’m good at taking care of myself once I get in a rhythm.

Sometimes, or often, I dream of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dream of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I am weighted down through the cold to where no human has ever been before. I open my eyes there, I open them all the way, lightning-bright, and in my dreams, the salt doesn’t sting. It doesn’t hurt, instead, I light up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I do something good then. Maybe I do something good and bring the sun to places that have forgotten it.

I meet Mags on the beach. She’s got one eye and five teeth and carries around string and scissors everywhere. She smells like seawater and roasting kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes are neat despite her leather-cracked skin and her arms and neck are covered with tattoos of shipwrecks. She cackles and pulls me aside the first night we meet.

“What’s your name?” Her voice is old creaking wood. I am quiet. “I could give you one.” She offers with a grin that is more empty space than anything.

I shake my head. “Nana.”

“What do you like, kid?”

I shake my head again.

Mags likes me more than I deserve. I pocket her last pair of socks when she’s not looking. She never mentions it and drags me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She takes me to the soup restaurant for something that isn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackles, she spits when she talks, people glare at her as well.

I think she’s normal, not touched by the spirits, but she likes me more than most people and I don’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snort. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snap.

“Lippy-wild thing. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heats the needle before she uses it, red hot and untouchable. She dips it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she calls them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin with color and movement. She shows me on her right foot first, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It takes her six hours to make a little shipwreck right above her big toe. It’s a schooner going under and I’m the only witness to the way she makes the waves come to life and crash against its sides. I can’t look away and I forget to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washes another needle. She heats it red-hot. She dips it in ink and hands it to me.

I practice all over my thighs first, there’s enough meat there and it’s easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looks like nothing but squiggles, a wobbly stick figure on a skateboard, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practice designs in the sand. Mags takes me to the museum on Sundays. They’re free on Sundays.

Something stirs in my chest, even as the guards yell at me about how flash photography isn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I’m shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rots roars to life in my chest.

I stab in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake next, and then finally, something good, something that gives people a reason to stare. I make it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than the others.

I don’t want to leave the ocean city. Mags says she has to keep moving though. She gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackles. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winks as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I want to make her pinky-promise like I’m a kid again and begging one of the other kids to tell me if I’m actually beautiful when I close my eyes. I can’t do that; I wave as she totters up the steps of the bus and is taken away with the tides of her own feet. ------------ I get an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked to them first and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but coach surfing and camping out on beaches is a tiring pastime. Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie run a tattoo shop together. Davies walks like he’s never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie has a throw-pillow that says “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies is nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie has topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’s been asked to leave a number of stores before the children start staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me, it’s not that type of town. I rankle at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. I brush off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie calls me “Shadow” and I think it’s a joke. Davies says I must be possessed by the ghost of a dead star and now I’m nothing but a blackhole: take everything in and let nothing out.

Neither of them lets me touch a needle in those first six months. They have me practice on pig skin and stand by their shoulder as they work. I feel like a dental assistant except I’m the hanging light above shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stand at their shoulder as they draw thick lines and thin dots and make hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They ask me to stop blinking and stand still. I almost walk out and find a new cliff to crash against, almost. No one had ever expected me to show up to something before. No one cared if I went to school or when I got home. And no one kept any tabs on me after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, it didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow.” She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I am eloquent in the morning.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want the desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

I grumble. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before. I tell myself I’ll just try it out, no harm in having a bit of a savings anyway. No harm in seeing what the fuss was about.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with my eyes. I don’t let up though. I put on pants for this, after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder now.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, he had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me now as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “The line’s barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” He chuckled darkly. His grin is crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.

“Look at you go. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun before the new year. I tell myself I’ll only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I don’t have to actually stay. I’ll just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chases after girls with eyes that glow.

I don’t break my lease. I draw cartoon heroes in speedos on tipsy college girls who swear they’re sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I have to give two refunds for a duck that turns out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with nothing but doors ahead of her. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I’m best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It’s dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hide my smile when she goes to my bosses and points at it while jumping up and down. The best thing she’s ever seen. She should pay us double. Where did you get this girl? I try not to blink so they can’t see the wetness under my eyes.

Sometimes I still stand by the bus stop to check who’s coming off. I don’t expect to see Mags again so soon, but sometimes I want to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

🌸Check out my Patreon for the full story! 🌸

[princecharmingmendes]

Invisible String | Werewolf AU | Raul Mendes

Raul is a werewolf and his mate turned out not only to be human, but his best friend's little sister. And as much as he tried, he could not ignore that invisible string tying her to him.

Hello hello! This is a bit of an experimental thing and I'm really excited about it, I've always been highly interested in everything about alternative universe and fantasy in general, and ever since I received the first ask to write a werewolf piece I've been wanting to do it but also a bit nervous. So hopefully this meets your expectations and you guys like it! Let me know if this was any good and if you guys would like to see something else like this! 

*Word Count: 8K+;

*Warnings: a few curse words, a little angsty (i guess), minor drinking;

*Posted: March 28th, 2021.

                                               -*-

Raul felt like life liked playing sick little tricks on him.

Like the fact that werewolves had a very strict hierarchy and normally it worked nicely. The Alphas are the ones in charge and responsible for keeping the pack safe and in order. Betas normally were kind of the strength of the pack, trained to listen and do whatever the pack needed and physically skilled to fight off anyone. And the Omegas were the glue to all of it, the sweet and naturally more caring ones, and it was an ancient thing that was followed to this day. Until Raul and his twin brothers were all born Alphas. It was hard informing the pack that they’re all going to be the Alphas of their pack. And since normally it was only allowed one wolf to claim that position, it was harder to make older ones respect their decision and actually accept, but at the end of the day, they didn’t have much of a choice. The Alpha genes ran in the Mendes family for generations and thankfully their dynamic was actually great and the triplets formed a great group of wolves. 

And that was just an example of the things Raul blames on fate or whatever for making his like a bit more difficult. But maybe the hardest one was having mated with not only a human, but his Beta’s younger sister. His best friend’s and right hand’s sister, one of the only girls that was off limits had to be his mate. 

And it wasn’t even his choice. Mating is a common thing between werewolves and other creatures, often seen as a blessing, a reason to celebrate. It’s similar to what most people have as a soulmate. It’s two souls that were meant to be together and are deeply connected to the other. Sometimes it’s harder to notice, it can take a few years and sometimes it’s almost instantaneous, and it can’t be undone or ignored. And even though sometimes it can be denied by one of the sides, according to the ones who’ve been through it, it’s an awfully painful experience. Some even go as far as describing having a piece of you being pulled out of your heart. 

It also doesn’t have to be necessarily tied to a romantic relationship, you can simply be friends with them for the rest of your lives, even though it doesn’t happen most of the time. Most of the time it isn’t even something to think about, it just feels natural, you feel whole when you’re around that person, they’re meant to be your other half and normally it just clicks. And when you grow up surrounded by wolves, it’s normally a beautiful connection to witness. Raul always found their parents relationship amazing, and deep down longed for a similar deep relationship with someone, finding his mate and falling in love. He just didn’t expect it to happen the way it did. 

It was over four years ago and he was running a bit late to Mike’s, his best friend, nineteenth birthday he was having at his parents’ house. Raul got caught up sorting through some pack stuff and when he was finally done with it, he was already half an hour late and it was outside their little secluded “neighborhood” in the wooded area. It was a bit far from the town so the wolves wouldn’t have a problem with the humans since their existence was still a secret. Only very few and selected humans knew about them. So it was best for everybody if they built their little community on the woods just beside the town, and keep their presence among humans only when seen necessary. 

Mike’s father, who is a werewolf, fell in love with a human (Mike’s mom) and they decided to move into town to be closer to her job since she was a nurse and needed to be near the hospital in case of an emergency. And when Mike was born a wolf, they decided that he was going to be raised like his dad was in the wolf community and would make his decision in joining it or not when he was older. And he did choose the pack life since it felt more natural to him. But Y/N, his younger sister, was actually born a human and was raised by his parents like any human kid, and she was never taken to their community since she was three years younger than her brother and Mike was very protective over her, not knowing how his pack would treat her or react to her.

So when Raul parked his car right outside the address that was sent to him and ringed the bell, he wasn’t expecting to be met with his mate. But there she was, Y/N stood with the door open as her eyes widened the slightest bit and he was sure he wasn’t breathing. He felt like he was floating and her sweet scent of something like Roses and Strawberries was all he could feel. All his other senses were clouded by her presence just a few inches away from him. He didn’t know how to react or what to say, and for the first time in his life he was completely speechless. Raul was normally a very socially skilled person, he was good at talking to people and reading someone’s expressions like a book, always had a sharp answer at the tip of his tongue and knew what to do at most situations, but Y/N caught him off guard. 

She seemed a bit confused as well. Her mouth slightly a gape as she held to the wooden doorframe.  Y/N was really happy she was finally meeting all of her brother’s friends and getting to know a bit more of this part of his life she was deprived of. And she was a bit shocked to notice how big and strong all of his friends were, specially Shawn and Peter, who Mike explained to be the Alphas. They were also incredibly nice to her, she suspects it was her brother’s doing since every time they would say something or curse, they would always look at Mike first. But when the doorbell rang again, she knew it was Raul, he was the only one missing and they knew he was late due to “pack stuff” as they explained. She felt a bit jittery and basically ran to the door from the spot she was sitting next to it on her phone, wanting to get to know her brother’s best friend for a while now. But she wasn’t prepared to meet him.

Sure, he was identical to his twins, but there was something different about him that hit her hard. Of course, he had more tattoos and a few more piercings, he looked a bit rougher in the edges with his leather jacket and wild golden eyes, but there was something that wasn’t about his appearance that took her breath away. And suddenly she didn’t know what to do, they’re both stuck in their place staring at each other. And even though her mind was screaming at her to stop being awkward, invite him in and actually act like a decent being, Y/N couldn’t move a muscle, and he’s probably thinking she’s an idiot and too polite to invite himself in. And in the middle of her internal turmoil, he regained some self control for the sake of both of them. 

Raul cleared his throat shaking his head a bit “Hi, I’m Raul, you must be Y/N” he said and she swore she melted at the sound of his voice “it’s really nice finally meeting you” 

He offered his hand to her to which she swiftly grabbed, feeling his warmth seeping throughout her palm, his fingers curling around her much smaller ones. He had a beautiful design tattooed on the back of his hand and she got a little lost in it. 

Y/N sighed relief he broke the awkward moment and looked up back at him, trying to control her thoughts “Yeah, that’s me, nice to meet you too, would you like to come in?”

Raul smiled as he let go of her hand a bit reluctantly “sure” was all he said as he stepped in closer to her, being hit with a fresh wave of her sweet scent, forcing him to take a deep breath. 

“The boys are outside in case you’re wondering” she said placing a strand of hair that fell out of her little updo behind her ear.

Raul held back the urge to do it himself “Oh, so they annoyed you into staying in the living room?”

“No no” her eyes almost budged out of their socket “I was just- I was just waiting for you since I knew you were running late and they’re all talking, so I didn’t want to intrude and I-“

“Y/N it’s just a joke” he said through a chuckle as he saw her face flushing “relax a bit, honey”

Y/N giggled softly as she closed the door “I’m sorry, I-“

“Hey, dude!” Mike called from across the room, making their heads snap towards him “how’s everything back home?”

“All settled” Raul said taking a step closer to his Beta “just arrived actually”

“Oh, so you met my little sister” and even though it seemed like a normal sentence, Raul knew Mike and knew his posture like the back of his hand, he knew this was a reminder of the conversation they had back home about staying away from her.

“Yeah, she opened the door for me” he said and from his peripheral he saw Y/N nodding confirming his line.

“I see, the guys are outside, let’s go grab a burger for you” Mike said patting him on the shoulder and dragging him away from the front door where Y/N seemed to be frozen in place. 

Raul remembers vividly every little second of that night. Remembers how he decided he should keep his distance for the sake of his friendship and for Y/N herself. She was only sixteen when they met and she is human, which means the bond isn’t too strong for her, specially at first glance, and dating a werewolf was hard. He lived far into the woods and didn’t necessarily mingle with people in town, who were probably her friends and she wasn’t raised with his type, so maybe it would be too much for her. And Raul’s sure Mike wouldn’t be happy about it, at least not now where they first met and she’s that young. So he kept his distance, only talking to her when extremely necessary. 

And that was a pattern he kept for the remaining four years of their limited interactions (which he intended keeping that way).  

As older as Y/N got, the closest she got with the pack. She was always close to Mike, but since she was young she wasn’t allowed to walk or drive alone to the community, but as soon as she was old enough she was always around on the weekends and important dates. And she was just lovely, so everyone adored her, always wanting to have her around for monthly movie nights and even going as far as inviting her to spend the night. Raul couldn’t really blame anyone for wanting her around, he did too, but he couldn’t, so he didn’t say a thing about it. And he knew he made her hesitant on accepting those invitations, cause at every attempt she ever made to get closer to him, he shut her off. And he could see Y/N was hurt, but it was for the best. 

He even tried dating someone else for a while  and he noticed Y/N didn’t like it even the tiniest bit. The girl he was dating was a Beta that was temporarily living with them as her pack solved something around the area, and she was nice. But it didn’t last long, she was only staying for a few months, and on the day she left, there was a barbecue in celebration to one of the older wolves and of course Y/N was there. Raul was late since he was taking his ex to the airport, and Y/N didn’t even look at him when he stepped into the little location they were all settled. He found the act odd but didn’t say a word, only walking towards his brother’s and Mike who were laughing probably about something dumb one of them said. Raul spent a few minutes with them, but he kept looking over his shoulder where Y/N was sat, noticing after an hour she was missing and he instantly started trying to find her.

He dismissed his friends as he walked into the pack house, trying to clear his senses to track her in case she was hurt (since she was a bit wobbly on her feet already), but only to be met with her staring at her phone while sitting on the couch with a huge pout set on her lips. Raul was about to turn and leave when Y/N looked up, noticing his presence and he swears his heart stopped at that moment. She had tears filling her eyes and her lips were trembling slightly, a deep frown set on her brows.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be here” she mumbled sniffling softly “I just needed to clear my head a bit”

Raul nodded with softer eyes as he walked closer to her “it’s okay, are you hurt? Are you in pain?”

Y/N shook her head “I honestly don’t know why I’m so upset, I didn’t even drink that much or anything, I just-“ she sighed heavily and looked up at the celling.

“Tired?” Raul offered gently and she nodded her head slowly “want me to drive you home?”

“No, please, just go enjoy the night, isn’t Samantha here?” she said as he sat down beside her, still keeping some distance. 

“We broke up, she left today” was all he said and she looked up at him with wide eyes, but before she could start apologizing, he just pressed his hand to her knee gently “it’s okay, it wasn’t anything serious, no need to apologize, sweetheart” 

“I- okay”

“Still wanna stay?” he pressed gently “I can still take you home”

“No, it’s okay, I was supposed to spend the night anyway” she shrugged.

“Wanna go upstairs and take a nap?” was all he asked and she shook her head. 

“The thing is I was supposed to stay at Stacy’s room tonight, but her boyfriend showed up, so I guess I got the living room” she explained “which is totally okay, and I don’t want to seem ungrateful, I know you don’t like me much, and I don’t want to make things worse” 

And at that his heart shattered “wait, what?”

“Oh no, I really don’t mind, I can call a cab too, I can leave in twenty minutes too, I’m sorry I-“ she started breathing a bit heavily as he picked up her heart racing more than usual.

Raul shook his head, turning on the couch to face her better “No, it’s not that, I’m not mad at you or anything, I just- who said I don’t like you?”

“I- no one” she opened her mouth a few times before closing it until she said something that shattered his heart in a billion pieces “no one, it’s just something I’ve noticed throughout the years”

“What do you mean?”

Y/N sighed deeply as she glanced down at her lap, fidgeting the bracelet she always wore, which Raul caught on a long time ago to be a nervous habit “I know you get uncomfortable when I’m around and Mike told me it was probably something about you not being used to have humans around, and I totally get it, it’s just sometimes it seems like my presence is enough to put you in a sour mood and I don’t think it’s because I’m human or anything, and I shouldn’t be saying this to you, I’m sorry”

Raul took a deep breath as he squeezed her knee gently and seeing her relax a bit at his touch “stop apologizing for everything, you did nothing wrong, sweetheart, well, besides assuming I disliked you”

“Oh” was all she managed out as her brain ran a million mile per hour.

Y/N has had a crush on him for years now, ever since the first time they met. He was the literal description of her type, but the dreamy part ended there. Of course Raul was always polite and never made anything to directly hurt her, but he kept pushing her away and avoiding her like the plague, and maybe it was all in her head, but he didn’t seem like that whenever he was around others. And that did nothing to help her case. She knew nothing would ever happen between them, he made it pretty obvious he wasn’t attracted to her, but she’d like to try and be friends with him but even that didn’t seem to interest him. And it wasn’t his fault, she didn’t even knew the reason as to why she felt the need to have him around, but she just did. So Y/N just lost hope after all the attempts to make him like her, but he was always so distant and it still affected her after all this years. 

In the other hand, Y/N had no idea how hard it was to push her away. Raul was certain she knew exactly what to do to get to his heart, she had to. Every little thing she did made his heart flutter and she was just so good at having people wrapped around her fingers that she made her way through all of his friends lives. He thought they were mates at first glance, her scent was a great clue, but as they got to know each other better, even indirectly, just made him sure of it. Y/N meant much more than what he thought was possible, seeing her stressed over school stuff or sad about whatever reason was enough to put him in panic, not knowing how to keep his distance and stop her from hurting. And all his cold exterior wasn’t necessarily his choice, he knew Mike confessed he hoped his sister would not get with an Alpha, that meant she would have to give up a few things in her life and that would herself in danger for having Raul’s scent all over her. And Mike also told him he would do whatever he could to avoid that to keep her safe.

So he did it for her, to keep her safe from the problems that came along with living in a pack, dating a werewolf and being a human. But it was getting harder, and tonight he decided to ignore it, that she needed him more than she needed to stay away from him. And that’s what pushed him to wrap his fingers around her wrist, making her look up at him

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” he offered in a lower voice “maybe it will help you clear your head a bit” and Y/N seemed a bit shook, looking up at him with wide eyes and she nodded slowly.

Raul smiled fondly at her as he got up with her following him up the stairs to the little movie room the pack out together for movie nights. They sat down side by side as he offered her to pick something for them, then Raul proceeded to reach for a fluffy blanket that was thrown on the corner of the sofa. When he turned back to her she still looked a bit lost, so he offered to put on a show he knew was her favorite, and she just nodded in response. Y/N was too nervous to do anything wrong that would push him back into being his closed off distant self, and she knew she looked ridiculous all tense and barely breathing by his side. 

Raul noticed her stiffness right away and decided to turn off the lights hoping this would make her relax even a little bit. And as the episode progressed he noticed she was getting more and more loose. An hour later, in the middle of the second episode, he felt her leaning closer to him, probably searching for a bit more warmth, so he lifted his arm to rest on the back of the couch and to make room for her in case she wanted. It only took a couple more minutes for her to be basically leaning most of her weight on him, and when her arm slipped, she fell mostly laying on his chest. And as soon as Y/N was ready to start apologizing, Raul shushed her softly, asking her to relax and pulling the covers up both of their bodies, and so she did.

He didn’t notice he was falling asleep until he woke up many hours later with the sound of voices downstairs from his brothers. Raul looked down at his chest to find Y/N cuddled to him, sound asleep as his arm wrapped around her waist held her still. He took a deep breath and almost chose not to wake her and just go back to sleep, to deal with the stiffness due to the sitting position he held and the consequences of sleeping there with her in the morning. At least until he heard the door cracking open slowly and Shawn’s head popping in. 

“Are you two okay?” his brother whispered as he noticed the girl asleep on the couch, and to that Raul nodded in response, afraid to wake her up “take her upstairs to your room, dude, Mike will find out you like her sooner or later and he’ll deal with it, just don’t let her sleep on the couch”

Raul sighed and nodded. Shawn bid his goodnight and closed the door with a soft click. Peter, Shawn and his mom were the only ones to know about his mating situation, and he liked it better that way. They tried convincing him to tell her at least, but they understood that maybe it wasn’t the right time just yet and let him decide what to do with his feelings. 

So he ended up taking his brothers suggestion and as gently as he could, he rearranged the girl in his arms to he could carry her upstairs to his bedroom. Y/N grumbled softly in protest, nuzzling her face further on his neck as she quieted down. Raul had to stop himself from cooing at her. As he walked out into the bright hallway she mumbled something unintelligible before calling his name.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m here, it’s just me” he whispered as they walked into his room, before placing a kiss to her hair, gently lowering her to his mattress. 

Y/N slowly opened her eyes “Raul? I’m sorry, I fell asleep on you” she mumbled quietly. 

“It’s okay, just thought a bed would be a better place for you to sleep other than the couch” he said standing up to his full height and bringing the covers up her body “that’s why I brought you to my room”

“Thank you” she said grabbing his hand and he just nodded at her with a gentle grin on his lips “why are you up?”

“I’m going to crash downstairs on the movie room” he stated caressing the back of her hand with his thumb and she started shaking her hand. 

Her hold on him tightened “No, not a chance, I’m not taking you out of your bed for you to sleep on the couch, please stay here with me, please”

And how could he possibly say no to her looking so sleepy and so sweet?

He breathed a chuckle with a nod “just let me change first, do you need a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt instead of what you’re wearing?”

“Yes please” she murmured feeling a bit embarrassed for making him do all of this for her.

And as if he could read his mind “Don’t look at me as if you’re being a headache, yeah? It’s okay, sweetheart, let me just grab you some clothes” he squeezed her hand before letting go of it in favor of picking up what he promised.

He came back from his closet in only a pair of sweats and a thin white t-shirt, a similar paring folded in his hands for her. She got up to change on his bathroom as he climbed on his bed, trying to contain the excitement of the prospect of having the girl he’s been fond of for over two years, the possible love of his life. Y/N quickly returned in his clothes, following suit and diving under the covers, laying on her side away from him as he stayed on his back, trying to control his breathing after turning off the lights. A few minutes passed and he’s sure she was asleep, the room dark enough so he could only see the silhouette of her body by the faint glow of the moon seeping through his curtains. But then he heard the soft rustle of his sheets as she turned to face him, and he only turned his face on the pillow to properly look at her. 

“Can I ask you something?” she whispered almost as if she was afraid to break the comfortable silence that fell over them. 

Raul hummed in response “anything you want” his voice a soft and raspy tone, making her shiver slightly. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” her voice barely audible as if she was nervous to ask, or maybe the answer frightened her more. 

“You don’t have to worry about it, you should just rest for now” was his response and she sighed in defeat, nodding her head before facing him away again. 

The clear defeat on her features, despite the darkness was enough to make him regret his words. So Raul turned on his hand, raising a careful hand to caress her exposed bicep. She flinched at first, not expecting his touch, but quickly relaxing to it as he felt goosebumps raise on her skin. He decided to scoot a bit closer almost as if he were testing the waters and she shuffled closer in response. Soon the hand on her arm slid to wrap her waist gently and Y/N sighed happily in return, finally resting her back on his chest. Raul placed a kiss at the top of her head as she melted under his sweet gesture. 

When she was in transition to dreamland, she swears she heard him whisper into her hair, the place he decided to muzzle his face “I’m sorry I made you think I disliked you, Y/N that’s not the case at all” he took a deep breath and she was far to gone to say anything back “You just seemed like you needed me tonight, and I’m sorry if I ever made you think your presence here was unwanted, you’re just too good and I don’t deserve you, sweetheart”

And not knowing if this was true or not, his whispered confessions with that slightly raspy and almost honeyed at the same time voice lulled her completely to sleep. 

                                              -*-

In the weeks prior to that event, neither of them said a thing about that night, not even in an indirect way. Raul barely spoke to his brothers about it, but they already knew what happened, and Y/N didn’t feel like telling Mike would be a genius idea, so she decided against it. And to her disappointment things got back to the old normal, at least for the most part. She felt like Raul was a bit more comfortable around her and didn’t try so much to stay away, but it wasn’t like that day, and it still hunts her that she actually caught a small glimpse of what their relationship could be. But it was also taking its tool on him, that night he slept like a baby and allowed himself to daydream that this could’ve been their reality if things were a bit different.

He woke up that morning pretty early as usual, for his perimeter check, but only this time Y/N was sound asleep on his chest, and maybe he stalled a bit to enjoy her sweet scent a bit more before slowly peeling her off of him and gently laying her back down on the pillows. There was only a bit of resistance in form of a whine but she ended up pulling his pillow to her chest before settling down. It was harder than he thought leaving her on his bed as he quickly changed and jogged downstairs to go on his run, but maybe it was better like this, this way he could run and put his head at ease and actually come up with his next moves. So that’s what Raul did, but as soon as he was back on the house, already in two feet only, she was already wake and preparing something in the kitchen as she chatted with Peter.

Raul leaned on the doorway as he watched her, back on the clothes from last night, talking about her next college project as his brother sipped on his coffee mug, so he cleared his throat not to scare her as he walked in “good morning”

“Morning, Raul, can you keep her company as she eats her breakfast? I actually need to run to Sam’s house to pick up some stuff before he leaves for work” Peter asked, a knowing look on his face as Raul just shrugged it off “thanks, got to go, Y/N, good luck with that sheet!” his brother said before leaving the kitchen completely.

“Hi” she said, eyes trained on the eggs she was making as he stood beside her, his hip leaning on the kitchen counter “would you like some?”

“Sure” he said looking around the room “did you sleep well?”

Y/N’s body visibly stiffened as she cleared her throat before answering “yeah, thank you about last night, by the way”

Raul nodded before changing the subject and seeing her relax at that, knowing it was for the best, mentally deleting the speech he came up with. And that’s where the whole conversation died.

                                              -*-

Months later Raul found himself in an equally as hard situation.

Y/N was spending the weekend at the pack house that was a bit more empty than usual, since a few of the wolves (including Mike) decided to go on a little getaway to run from the cold that was arriving sooner than expected, and since her parents were out of town, his best friend asked if she could stay with them so Y/N wouldn’t be all by herself for four days during the possibility of a storm that was estimated for that weekend. And of course they couldn’t deny it, specially since she was very sweet and everyone loved her.

And tonight was the second night of her in the house and Raul was pacing back and forth on his room, probably about to open a hole on the floor from pacing too much, but he didn’t know what to do. She was downstairs on the living room working on some sort of paper for college and he decided he was going to bed, but as soon as he reached his room, the storm that was expected to happen finally arrived and he literally heard her heart rate speeding up exponentially, but didn’t know how to approach her or even if he should. However, when he heard her curse under her breath when a lightning lit up the whole house he knew he could not do nothing, so he opened the door to his room and basically ran down the stairs. 

As Raul reached the bottom of the stairs, he identified Y/N to be the little ball wrapped up in a fluffy  blanket in the middle of the couch. He took a deep breath before carefully walking towards her, he tried making enough noise so she wouldn’t get caught off guard but not enough to disturb her. But as soon as he reached the side of the couch she looked up at him with wide teared eyes from the little cocoon of blankets she was. Raul physically stopped himself from cooing at her and pulling her to his lap.

Y/N gave him a little sad laugh as she rubbed her eyes harshly “I’m sorry we always end up meeting like this, I must seem like an idiot, right?”

Raul shook his head sitting down beside her “You’re not an idiot, what’s making you so upset?”

She took a deep breath before answering “I guess I’m just tired, and this paper is a bit harder than I thought and I’m actually a bit afraid of storms, and this is all stupid and I-“

“Hey, it’s not stupid, it’s stressful and it’s okay, no one really like storms, they’re dangerous and pretty scary”

“Sure, when you’re five” she said playfully rolling her eyes as he chuckled softly.

“Oh, darling, you know that’s not true”

“Are you scared of storms?” she asked with an arched brow.

“No”

“See?”

Raul chuckled as he shook his head “you’re really something, aren’t you?”

Y/N shrugged as she saved the document before moving to the book she was using as reference “Why are you up if you’re not scared then?”

“You are”

Y/N turned her head in his direction “Oh, I didn’t mean to wake you up”

“You didn’t, I just knew you were afraid and decided to come check on you” he said already regretting admitting to it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you didn’t have to come though, I’m a big girl, I can take it”

Raul gave her his signature lopsided smile that she had only seen a few times directed to her, making her insides a bit toastier than before “I know you can, sweetheart, just didn’t want you to be alone if I could come down and try to help”

“Yeah, that’s the Alpha spirit, right?” and with that sentence Raul rested his head on the back of the sofa with a laugh. 

“Maybe” Raul turned his head to face her, deciding he was going to ignore the whole ‘pushing her away’ speech, at least for a moment “I was thinking that maybe we should make some hot chocolates if you want to finish this paper tonight”

“Are you serious?” Y/N had to confirm she wasn’t going mad and that he was actually willingly wanting to spend some time with her.

“Of course I’m serious, you can’t joke about stuff like this”

“What? Hot chocolate?” she asked holding back a laugh.

“Well obviously” he pushed himself up from the couch, relieved to see she seemed distracted enough to forget about the whole weather outside “I’m aces in the kitchen”

Raul offered her his hand and she smiled at him shaking her head before closing her computer and pushing it aside, taking his outstretched hand and letting him pull her up carefully “well, how did I just find that out?”

“Because I’m normally too tired and busy most of the time to actually make a meal”

She noticed he didn’t let go of her, and she wasn’t going to be the one to do it or point that out “oh yeah, being the Alpha and bossing everyone around must take a lot of your time and energy”

Raul chuckled as he walked her to the kitchen, letting go of her hand against his will in favor of grabbing the ingredients “Mike’s a bad influence, I bet his the one who told you that”

“You certainly didn’t, we barely talk at all” and as soon as the words left her mouth she regretted it. 

Raul was with his back facing her as he sorted through the stuff to prepare their drinks, and she was ready to start apologizing, afraid he was going to push her out all over again. Why did she have to go and say something like that? As much as the mood between them was playful, mostly cause he was trying to distract her and she knew it, but it was light and fun, she had to say such thing and ruin it. Sometimes things felt so natural with him that she just forgets that they aren’t that close. But before she could freak out and start spitting strings of ‘I’m sorry’ he did something Y/N wasn’t expecting. Raul started laughing out loud, turning to face her and she ended up laughing as well, maybe out of nervousness or out of relief, either way she laughed.

“I deserved that” he pointed out “but I guess that will have to change since you have such a distorted vision of the Alpha role”

“I wouldn’t particularly mind” she added softly, in hopes he wouldn’t pay much attention to it, but again, Raul was, apparently, a little box of surprises.

“Me neither, darling” he said before turning on the stove.

Y/N felt heat rising up her chest to her face and decided to clear her throat before changing subjects “Who taught you how to cook? Shawn’s a mess in the kitchen, Peter’s good but I know he took lessons”

“I guess I just learned from watching my mom, when I was little I used to spend a lot of my time in the kitchen with her whenever she was using it, my grandma too, and I guess I somehow absorbed that”

“Oh, they’re good?” Y/N took a tentative step closer to him, eager to learn about him and taking the opportunity of his sudden interest in spending time with her to milk all the information she could.

“My mom’s good, but my nan is just fantastic, she told me she used to sit on the counter by her father and watch him, and I guess I did the same”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to do the same cause my kitchen experience resumes to making toast, sandwiches and eggs” she said and he looked at her from the corner of his eye as if he was pondering.

“Then do it, I don’t mind a little audience” he said and she giggled, hoping on the counter beside where he stood. 

And that’s how they spent most of their night, with light chatter and a bit of healthy teasing going around and they were ecstatic about it. Y/N felt like she was finally able to relax after all the stress and she felt weirdly complete, almost as if before she was missing a piece. And Raul, he was over the fucking moon and already regretting keeping her away for that long, avoiding every type of contact with her and he was almost telling Mike to piss himself and ignoring all this stupid made up rules he made. He sat down by Y/N’s side as he helped her finish her paper and he was actually able to, finishing it in less than twenty minutes, so they just sat down side by side talking about random stuff, until he noticed she was starting to get sleepier and sleepier with every passing minute. 

“You should go to bed, sweetheart” he pointed as she was basically leaning her weight on his side, not that he minded, but they got really close really fast 

“Already trying to get rid of me?” she joked and he laughed despite being afraid that was something she actually believed in, and maybe that’s what drove him to ask her what he did next.

“Never, and if you’re still a bit nervous about the rain you can sleep in my room, I can always take the couch”

“I can’t kick you out of your bed” she said looking up at him

“You’re not kicking me out, I’m inviting you and offering to stay elsewhere”

Y/N shook her head “I don’t mind sharing if you do”

Raul didn’t expect it, but he also wasn’t mad about it “If you really don’t mind, then yeah”

“Okay, I’m ready for bed if you are” she said grabbing her stuff.

Raul nodded as he helped her to carry her school material up to his room, which he placed on top of his dresser before turning around to face her standing awkwardly in the middle of his bedroom.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Hmm, nothing I just-“ she mumbled as he chuckled.

Raul stopped by the end of his bed “I can still take the couch if you’re uncomfortable”

“It’s not that, you don’t make me uncomfortable” she said as she walked up to him “I don’t know what it is, I just feel safe around you, is it weird?”

Raul was not expecting it as he looked down at her “No, not at all, you can climb on the bed, darling” he offered as he did the same on his side.

She ended up taking up on his offer and laying down on the other side, pulling the covers up her body “you can be really sweet when you want to, you know?” she mumbled softly after a while, after the lights were already off and the only source of light in the room was coming from the lamp on his bedside table.

Raul said turning to face her, only to find Y/N already on her side facing him “Don’t think many think the same”

Y/N laughed and shook her head “guess you’re just good at pretending you’re this big bad Alpha when you’re just a big softie”

Raul laughed throwing his head back and she couldn’t stop herself from admiring the sound, his neck and his beautiful face, looking a lot more soft than normally.

“I really like your laugh” she blurted out before she could think. 

His laugh was cut short when he realized her words and he smiled at her “I like yours, wish I could hear it more often”

“Well, it’s not really hard to get me to laugh”

Raul smiled at her “yeah, hm- I wanted to apologize”

“For what?” she asked, genuine curiosity shining on her eyes.

“For being a dick to you, for such a long time, there’s not an excuse for that, as much as I tried to come up with one” he finally admitted running his hands through his curls. 

Y/N bit her lower lip as she looked at him “you’re never a dick to me, you’re a bit closed off, yeah, but never a dick, you never made me feel uncomfortable or anything like that, and ever since that night where you made it clear you didn’t dislike me, a few things started making more sense to me”

“Like what?” it was his turn to get confused.

She sighed heavily “I thought for a very long time you just hated my guts or didn’t want me near for being a human or an outsider, but then you said it wasn’t the case and you were so sweet to me that night, and the morning after, and ever since that day, even though you weren’t necessarily cuddling with me and being around me all the time, you were slowly opening up, spending more time around me when I was here and at first I was confused, but then yesterday I was talking to Peter and he may or may not have told me this was something to do with Mike”

“What?” Raul almost sat up, but he didn’t want her to stop talking, so he held back his impulse and just kept laying down.

“And I also talked to my mom about it, very recently, and she said my dad had a similar reaction to her when he found out they’re mates… I’m not implying anything, and I can be totally wrong about it, but I thought about it for a second and I swear it made sense, it explained why I felt so drawn to you since I first laid eyes on you” she admitted, coiling into herself a bit.

Raul was completely taken back, not knowing what to do or what to say, not expecting her to come into realization and not knowing how to proceed, that until she mumbled a soft “please say something, anything, just don’t shut me off again”

“No, darling, it’s not that, I’m sorry” he said reaching for her hand as grabbing it in his “I’m just speechless, I- you feel it too?”

“Is it true?”

“I- yes” he sighed in relief.

“You’re my mate?! Or I’m yours, I’m sorry, I don’t know how this works” she giggled nervously.

Raul couldn’t stop his smile to blossom on his lips as he nodded his head what felt like a thousand times “whatever you want, I don’t mind”

“So what does that mean now?” she said shuffling closer to him.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, I know your brother wouldn’t appreciate the idea and I don’t want to hurt you or cause any pain, darling, I just want what’s best for you” Raul said squeezing her hand gently.

“You could never hurt me, and I don’t honestly care about what Mike thinks right now” she said placing a hand on his chest “what do you want?”

“Honestly?” he asked and she nodded eagerly, which made him chuckle “you, in any way you’ll have me, but I also don’t want to rush you into anything, this works differently for me since I’m a wolf”

“Yeah, I know how sensitive you guys can be” she joked and he laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead “but I want you, I feel the pull to have you near me almost as a need”

“I know, sweetheart, I feel the same way” Raul admitted pulling her closer by her waist “just don’t want to skip any steps with you, but I kept you away long enough”

Y/N nodded tipping her head back to look at his beautiful face better, their noses brushing due to the proximity “agreed, but I still want you close”

“We’re already close, darling” he breathed a chuckled and she shook her head.

“Are you afraid of kissing me? What are you? Twelve?” she teased and he laughed, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Of course not” he whispered leaning a bit closer.

“Then what’s taking you so long?”

“Bossy little thing” he teased one more time before closing the space between them in a gentle kiss.

Y/N tangled her fingers in his wild curls as he cupped her jaw carefully, afraid that if he squeezed her even a tiniest bit she was going to disappear. But his gentle touches soon turned into a bit more urgent ones and she pulled his hair, encouraging him to deepen the kiss. Raul tighten his hand on her waist, trapping her bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it to him softly before lessening the sting with a swipe of his tongue. And unfortunately Y/N had to pull away too soon for her liking due to her stupid lungs needing oxygen. Raul leaned in to press a bunch of soft, barely there, kisses all over her face. 

She giggled a bit breathlessly as she murmured “Mike will murder me when he finds out”

“Shh, we can worry about that when he’s back, he’ll have to get over it eventually”

Y/N giggled before leaning in for one more kiss.

“Okay, love, we really should sleep, and then tomorrow I can maybe take you on a date if you want” he said pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before resting his forehead on hers.

Y/N smiled up at him “Or we can have a little movie marathon here and you’ll make me dinner”

Raul laughed “you’re a mean one, you know that?”

“Why?”

“Because you know I can’t say no to you” he said and she smiled at him.

“Good boy, you’re such a good puppy” Y/N teased and he laughed.

Raul shook his head “okay, it’s definitely time for you to go to bed”

                                                -*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

[forestwater87]

Chapter 15: Grand Gesture

Summary: GRAND GESTURE: He or she must be willing to put it all on the line now or risk losing the one thing they need to become whole-hearted. It’s life or death now.

CW: Smut in the last third of the chapter. Questionable quality.

Summer 2017

“Fuck!” Gwen felt her center of gravity shift as she leaned forward, overbalancing on the rickety chair she’d been using to reach the ceiling. It tipped perilously on two legs, then lost the fight with physics and sent her sprawling with a crash that shook the dozens of tiny papers taped around the room. She hit the ground with her hip and the side of her face, one of them making a disturbing crunch sound and both shooting bright white pain down her entire right side. “Shit!”

She was halfway to her feet, wondering if the crossed-eyes dizzy feeling was from lack of sleep, hitting her head, or marker fumes, when fingers closed around her upper arm and she was hauled upright. “Gwen! Goodness, are you okay?” David let go of her, his gaze roving around the room as he took a step back. “What happened in here?”

She looked around, taking a deep breath and noticing for the first time in hours the thick perfume of tacky glue and paint, as though David walking in had turned her senses back on. It was done, mostly. Well, no — it’d never really be done, but it was enough to prove her point.

She hoped.

While she was panicking, David had wandered over to the center of the room, ducking to avoid a string of origami animals dangling from the ceiling. “Is this for camp?”

“Yes — I mean, no, it’s from camp, and maybe we can reuse some of it but no, it’s . . . not really . . .” She’d planned this, during her mad crafting frenzy: how David would come home, wonder what she was doing, and she’d carefully tour him through everything — or maybe she’d let him get on with his morning routine while she added a few more things, made it just a bit closer to perfect.

But his presence had pulled her to a halt. She’d been like a shark all night, afraid to stop moving or she’d die, but now that he was here she felt drained, the giddy, terrified adrenaline that’d been keeping her going evaporating in an instant.

Though hey. At least she had a good reason to be tired, for once.

He frowned at her discarded supplies strewn carelessly around the room. “Are these from Art Camp?”

The question jolted her into action, and she stumbled forward jerkily, like the Tin Man without oil. “Yeah, but I already took it out of my paycheck, it’s fine. I’ll go shopping tomorrow for new stuff.” She wanted him to hear what she really meant, what she was trying to put together through exhausted babbling: that this was important, that it was worth sacrificing sleep and money for, that she loved him and she respected him and she wanted him to know that.

Finally, finally, he turned his attention to the walls. “Gwen, what is all this?”

“It’s you,” she blurted out, then winced and rested her forehead in her palm. “No, that’s not — it’s — some of the stuff you’ve taught me, look . . .” She took his hand, her nerves trembling at the brush of his fingers against her own, and pulled him toward the doorway. She’d made a messy semicircle around the room, right to left like a supermarket. Dropping his hand, she took a step back, steepling her fingers like she was praying and pressing them to her lips with another steadying breath.

She had one chance.

“Okay,” she began. “So . . .”

---

Gwen looked like she was on the verge of falling over, listing dangerously to the side as she led him across the room. There were feathers in her hair, and scraps of paper; she was speckled with color, marker and paint and even a smear of glitter glue on the tip of her nose, the pads of her fingers nearly black with a rainbow of ink that stained his hand as she held it. It was obvious she hadn’t slept, even more obvious that she desperately needed to.

But her eyes were bright even if the circles under them were dark, and she thrummed with an energy and animation David hadn’t seen all summer.

And he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt her, not when it finally felt like she’d returned to him.

“— song you taught me last year,” she said, and he felt a flash of guilt that he hadn’t been listening. She tapped the paper she’d stuck to the wall, the lyrics of his Camp Campbell song scrawled across it in uneven lines. “All the camp activities, remember? At least the most important ones.”

(It was really just the ones that fit best into the rhyme scheme, but he didn’t correct her as she moved on to a second piece of paper.)

“This is a list of all the facts about nature I’ve learned since I started here,” she continued, gesturing. This one was crammed so tightly with writing that he could barely read it, bullet points snaking in all directions and increasingly smaller handwriting as it moved down the page, until finally Gwen had started attaching sticky notes to the wall below and around the list. “I had to keep going back and adding things as I thought of them. I know I’m forgetting something, but I can’t —” She gestured around her head in a classic “scatterbrained” motion, chuckling weakly. “I’m kind of all over the place right now.”

Next: a bullseye, a pencil stuck point-first into the wall. “I couldn’t really shoot an arrow,” Gwen explained, “but remember that summer you taught me archery? I’m still pretty good at it — we went to a shooting range for Claire’s birthday last year and I was the only one who hit the target every time.”

Next: a messy drawing of a forest, a little stick figure kneeling next to a moss-covered rock. “That one time we got lost in the woods trying to find a good place for bug-catching, you got us out because you knew how to find north. You’d be pretty great in a zombie apocalypse.”

Next: a sheet of black construction paper poked through with holes, hastily taped to the back window so light from the lamp outside shone through in little pinpricks. He leaned closer and realized that they were in the rough shape of the constellations visible above Lake Lilac. “I didn't know much about stars and shit outside of, like, horoscope stuff — I mean, in the city you can’t even see them — but you always pointed out which constellations and planets were out during the summer and now I know them all too.”

And on, and on. Scale models of the crafts and activities they’d done at Camp Campbell, nature facts, and on one wall she’d tacked up a typewritten letter to the Director of Admissions at Queen’s University Belfast. Skimming it quickly, it looked to David like an application.

“I was trying to get into their Environmental Science program. I wrote about Sleepy Peak Peak and Lake Lilac,” she admitted, looking almost embarrassed. “I got in. And I mean, they’re not the best program out there, but they’re still in the top 300 worldwide so that’s pretty cool, I guess —”

“Belfast?” He leaned in closer, confirming that he’d read correctly. “Isn’t that in England?”

“Yeah.” She looked impressed, and he suppressed a weary smirk; yes, he did know a bit about the world outside of Camp Campbell. But she surprised him by adding, “I had to look that up, actually.” She shrugged. “Guess I should’ve just asked you, huh?

“Anyway, that was a couple years ago. I didn’t go, obviously,” she added, responding to his unspoken question. “International travel’s a bitch. I needed a scholarship, and my grades weren’t good enough. I think I only got in at all because of my letter.” She gestured at it, not quite meeting his eyes. “Which I never thanked you for. Or most of the stuff I’ve learned from you. I’ve been . . . kinda taking all that for granted. So, uh . . . thanks, David.”

He wanted to tell her she was welcome, that she didn’t need to thank him at all. That sharing these things with her had been the highlight of his life since they’d met, even if it hadn’t seemed like she cared about any of it. But there was a lump quivering dangerously in his throat and he didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded.

After a second she cleared her throat awkwardly and led him over to a row of stick figures hanging from the ceiling. “Some of these are from Yoga Camp,” she said, pointing at a few of the ones contorted into uncomfortable shapes, “but also all that other stuff you do. Like smile exercises —” and yes, one of the stick figures had a big pink smiley face, “— and breathing techniques and stuff. I use those sometimes when I’m having a panic attack. They really help, even if smile exercises still make me feel like a dumbass most of the time.”

The decorations started to get more abstract as they made their way around the room, simple crafts and trivia giving way to colorful scribbles and symbols, representing things he’d said to her about her relationship with her parents, her love life. “You have really good advice, you know that? You could be the next Dear Abby or something, seriously. I think that’s still running.”

(It was; he read it every morning with his pre-breakfast tea.)

“These get worse, sorry . . . I was getting tired.” Gwen jerked her chin up at a wobbly butterfly — or was it a bird? — dangling over their heads. “I use your advice about hummingbird-ing all the time. With writing, mostly, but sometimes at work or something, too.”

He gently reached up and touched the bird’s feet, watching it spin in a lazy circle. Technically the idea had been his mother’s, a way to avoid burnout by flitting from one project to another and adding just a little bit to each, instead of devoting all energy and resources to one thing and slogging through until it was done. The whole idea was part of his ethos of being a counselor — wasn’t Camp Campbell a place to get a little taste of everything, after all? He remembered explaining it to Gwen during her first week at camp, just over five years ago.

He wouldn’t have ever imagined that she’d actually remembered.

He didn’t think she remembered any of this.

But the evidence was all around him — on the walls, hanging from the ceiling, dozens of examples, mementos of the tiny moments that meant everything to him. Immortalized, remembered, in increasingly sloppy handwriting and doodles.

In the corner was a bright red card that looked familiar. David moved over to it and laughed in recognition: it was one he’d sent her after her first or second summer at Camp Campbell, when he’d seen on Facebook that she was looking for work. He tugged it off the wall, careful not to damage the cheap cardstock, and smiled down at the deer wearing a plaid hunting cap, which he’d made out of tissue paper and markers (he’d gotten much better since then, thanks to a few years of Decoupage Camps).

‘Good luck on your job HUNT! I know you’ll slay the interview!’

“I’ve kept that for years to show my friends,” Gwen said, making him jump; he hadn’t realized she’d come up behind him, but she was close enough to nearly rest her head against his. “I felt like it really captured the kind of guy you were.”

Her breath prickled the side of his neck, and he distracted himself by opening the card — ‘oh deer, is this joke going on too long? I feel like it’s overkill!’ — noticing how worn the crease was, like she’d opened and closed it hundreds of times. “Does it?”

He felt her shake her head without having to face her, stray wisps of hair that’d escaped her ponytail tickling his cheek. “Not even close.”

Unable to resist, he looked back at her over his shoulder, and she took his arm, turning him around the rest of the way. He thought she was going to kiss him — she was close enough that he could see a smeary glue thumbprint on her cheek and what looked like half a smiley-face sticker in her hair — but she just took the card from him, setting it carefully on the couch before taking hold of both his hands. Her expression was grave, shining faint with hope, and between the craft debris and her naked earnestness, she looked incredibly young and vulnerable.

“There’s more,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the far wall, “and I’ll let — I want you to look at it, but . . . I just had to tell you, I’ve been taking you for granted and it’s not right. I’ve been pretending I still think of you as this —” Pulling one of her hands away, she picked up the card again, her fingers shaking so the deer’s toothpick antlers clacked together, “— sweet, silly, kinda childish David, who belongs with someone sweet, and silly, and kinda childish. And I tried to be that and . . . I mean I sucked at it,” she said, breaking off with a weak laugh, dropping her eyes to their joined hands. “And it . . . kind of broke me. But I didn’t even think to ask if that was what you wanted, because I thought I knew what you needed, and that was — so, really fucked.” She looked back up at him, her eyes dancing with purple fire, her grip on his hand tightening. “And I — I don’t, you know so much that I don’t — I could fill the entire cabin with stuff I’ve learned from you, this doesn’t even scratch the surface.”

She paused, like she was waiting for him to interject, but David felt like he’d been turned to stone, paralyzed and unblinking while his brain whirled.

“But none of it matters if it doesn’t show . . . if you don’t know —” Her voice cracked, and she dropped his other hand, pressing a fist to her mouth. “— h-how amazing you are, how much you matter to this camp and to me and . . . and I didn’t know people could actually be happy 'til I met you. I mean, I guess I knew technically, but not that it was a real thing people actually were. But you figured it out. You’ve known what you wanted since you were a kid and then you got it and I’ve never done anything without second-guessing myself a million times but you just did it, and it meant making so many decisions about your life that could’ve turned out wrong but they didn’t because they were the right ones for you. And you knew it. You always have.” She swiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands, crying in earnest now. “You’re a marvel, David. I should’ve said that every fucking day. And I know it’s probably too little, too late, but I’m sorry. For not telling you and — and for everything.

“And I . . .” She swallowed hard, taking a few heaving breaths before continuing, and he knew she was trying to hold onto her composure even as tears poured down her cheeks, “I don’t know what you wanna do. With — with us, I mean. But you’re right, I haven’t been a good girlfriend to you, and if you don’t want to . . . if you want me to leave right now or after the summer ends or if you just wanna be friends or whatever , that’s fine. A-and — if you do . . . y’know . . .” Her face crumpled, her shoulders curling in on themselves. “I love you so much,” she managed, her words harder to make out through damp, hiccuping breaths. “Whatever — whatever you want — I — I — I trust you.”

Understanding pierced his chest, a small pinhole that allowed light to pour, warm and white, into his heart.

“I trust you.”

David hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed to hear those words until that moment.

He stepped forward, plucking the card from her hand and tossing it onto the floor (he could make her another one, dozens if she wanted, hundreds) and tilting her chin up so he could kiss her. Her cheeks were wet under his palms, her mouth salty and acidic with the taste of not-quite-morning breath, and each brush of his lips against hers was broken by her pulling back to drag in a sobbing gasp, her mouth moving clumsily like she was as close to fainting from exhaustion and emotion as she looked.

It was, without question, the best kiss of his life.

He broke away to press his forehead against hers, sliding his hands from her face to cup the back of her neck and closing his eyes. “I love you too, Gwen,” he murmured, his heart fluttering at the giddily-incredulous, teary laugh she gave in response. “And I think you need to go to bed.”

She leaned back, and the bleary confusion on her face was so precious he rose up on his toes to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Huh? But what about . . .”

“I’ve got some stuff to think about,” he said, then gestured at the crafts she hadn’t shown him yet, “and look at. And after that . . . we should talk. But it won’t be a very good talk if you fall asleep,” he added with a laugh as her eyes drifted closed.

She opened them halfway, just enough to glare at him, but the effect would’ve been more intimidating if she hadn’t been swaying slightly. “’m fine.” The adrenaline that’d been keeping her going was clearly wearing off fast, and David was a little worried she wouldn’t make it to bed, that he’d just find her unconscious on the floor of the hallway. “You didn’t sleep either,” she accused, pointing at him with a finger stained silvery with graphite.

Goodness, he loved her so much he couldn’t stand it. “I had a nap.” Not a long one, but he was used to not sleeping much. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“It’s already the morning,” she complained, but like a sleepy robot she turned and shuffled back toward the front of the cabin. “I’m gonna brush my teeth and shower and stuff. So I look less like a sludge goblin.”

“You do that, Gwen.” He waited until the bathroom door had clicked shut before turning back to the mess she’d made of their living room. It was almost hard to tell the difference between what was art and what was trash left over, there was so much of both; it looked like an explosion had hit a crafts store.

Gwen wasn’t someone who put a lot of effort into things she didn’t care about. It was one of the most frustrating things about having her as a coworker, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love how unabashedly honest she was, how he could read her feelings just by looking at her work.

There was the soft sound of tape unsticking and one of the decorations sagged, a corner curling away from the wall and drooping down. He pushed it carefully back into place and fumbled for his phone, setting it to camera mode.

This was worth remembering.

---

Gwen was positive she’d never be able to fall asleep; how could she, when things were still so up in the air? But she wasn’t twenty anymore, and after the exhaustion and emotional turmoil of the last few hours — days, weeks; hell, if she was being honest it’d been years since she’d truly felt well-rested — and despite the anxiety buzzing inside her skull she was out in moments.

Soft fingers in her hair drew her back to earth, and when she opened her eyes David came into focus, crouching next to her bed so they were at eye level. He smiled as she blinked at him, warmth and sunshine he probably didn’t even know he was emitting. “Goooood morning, Gwen!” he chirped, his voice way too loud for how close they were, and she winced. “Sorry,” he added, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Habit.”

“It’s fine,” she said, because she’d missed his morning bellow so much more than she could ever miss having non-punctured eardrums. She sat up, clumsily swiping at her face to double-check for drool or errant eye gunk. “Morning.”

“How are you feeling?” He hopped onto the bed, making her and everything else on the mattress bounce. He was being so . . . normal, like all the drama last night had been a dream.

Fuck it. They had some hard, painful conversations coming; she could enjoy a little bit of normalcy while her brain booted back up. “Good,” she replied, yawning. “I mean, tired, but I’m always tired so —” Her blood chilled, and suddenly she was wide awake.

There went normal. All because she had to remind him of what an unloveable disaster she was.

But when she looked back up he didn’t seem annoyed. He leaned against the wall, stretching his legs out so they dangled off the edge of the bed. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She scoffed before she could stop herself, and his gaze flicked up to hers, taking her breath away. (God, how she’d functioned for almost four years without feeling more than a flicker of attraction to this man was unfathomable.) “Really. I want to know what’s going on with you.” His hand landed on her knee, light as a bird but blazingly warm even through her blankets. “All I want is for you to let me in.”

A swell of emotion swept up from somewhere in her chest, causing her eyes to prick with tears for the thousandth time. She looked away and sniffed as discreetly as possible — which wasn’t very, she assumed, since he immediately reached over and handed her a tissue from the pack he kept stashed in his pockets. “I mean, if you want me to complain, I can do that,” she muttered, tamping down another flow of tears through willpower. “I can complain about fucking anything.”

David’s laugh made her turn back toward him, because it didn’t have a trace of sadness or pity or anything she’d expected. It was so purely, entirely delighted , more than even he could fake, and he was looking at her like she’d said something surprising and wonderful.

“You really like it,” she blurted out, unable to hide the awe in her voice. “That I’m like this. Whiny and —” she waved vaguely “— bitchy, and whatever.”

“I don’t.” He shook his head and her stomach plummeted. But as she took a breath to respond he shifted closer, gently cupping the back of her neck so he could tap his forehead against hers. “I love it, Gwen. I love everything about you.”

A laugh burbled out of her before she could stop it, and she pulled away to hide her face. “Oh my god. You bastard. You’re so cheesy.”

His fingers closed around her wrists, tugging her palms away from her face. “I love you,” he said, kissing the skin she’d covered with her hands — the tip of her nose, each cheek, her top and bottom lip, her eyebrows.

“I love you, too.” She could already tell that if he was going to keep saying that to her she’d spontaneously combust, because this was all too cute and romantic and lovely and she still didn’t fully understand how this was happening, why he didn’t hate her.

But she’d promised she wouldn’t question his decision, whatever it was. She owed him that much.

His smile faded slightly, a faint line appearing between his eyebrows. “What’re you thinking?”

“Nothing,” she lied automatically, and when that only made him sigh she added, “I said I was going to trust you,” hating the note of defensiveness in her voice, because of the two of them she didn’t have much grounds for righteous indignation.

“Then trust me with how you feel.” It should’ve sounded too much like a cliche, something she’d tease him for, but he was right and they both knew it.

She’d put him through hell by not telling him the truth, and they both knew that, too.

Gwen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax. Things were — they seemed okay, didn’t they? Almost normal, but better, because all her ugliness was out there for him to see and he knew about it and he didn’t seem to mind. And wasn’t that something she’d never thought she’d ever actually find? “I don’t get it,” she admitted, her voice sounding small and stupid. “I keep feeling like . . . like I tricked you somehow. Like I didn’t explain well enough why you shouldn’t want me, because if you really got it you wouldn’t be here. Not because I think you’re stupid,” she added quickly, desperately, “because I don’t, really! But — but even smart people can be . . . I don’t know, manipulated?”

The confusion in her voice made her pause, sit back. Manipulated? That couldn’t be right, could it? She wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone, and she was pretty sure you couldn’t manipulate someone by accident.

Or maybe you could; she hadn’t always paid a ton of attention to her psych classes in college.

“I’m sorry,” she managed after a few deeply uncomfortable moments of silence. “I’m trying, I promise, but I understand if . . . you know. Whatever.” (She still hated saying it, especially now that it seemed like it might not happen. Breaking up with David was hard enough without having to say it.)

He put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side and kissing her temple. “Thank you for telling me, Gwen.”

“You’re not mad?”

She felt him shake his head as she rested hers on his shoulder, scooting down to make up for their (lack of) height difference. “I wasn’t really mad when I came back this morning,” he said, “even before I saw everything you’d made. I had some time to cool down, and I . . . started thinking, I guess.”

Gwen wanted to look up at him, but she wanted to soak in his warmth more so she nuzzled into the curve of his neck, inhaling the smells of floral detergent and piney-woodsy cologne left over from the day before. “About what?” she asked, like there could possibly be more than one answer. Like maybe he’d been pondering the sociopolitics of Malaysia or something.

He let out a little huff of laughter, and she knew without looking that he’d glanced up at the ceiling in a slow blink (that he insisted was less rude than rolling his eyes outright, even though it was just as obvious). “You. Everything that’s happened this summer — and before it.” His shoulder shifted slightly under her cheek, a shrug aborted halfway through so she’d be comfortable. “Things started making more sense after everything we talked about tonight. Like the day we . . . well, when you told me about that gentleman you . . . almost took home.”

“He wasn’t a gentleman, he was a douchebag,” she interrupted, immediately feeling like an asshole. But David chuckled and squeezed her closer, like he enjoyed her company even when she was being annoying (which he did; somehow he actually did) and she let herself relax against his side, believe that maybe things were going to be okay after all.

“I’ve thought about the stuff you said a lot since that day. Mostly the parts that made me feel the worst.”

She flinched. “I’m so sorry —” she began, but he cut her off with a kiss to her forehead.

“I have trouble with . . . rejection,” he continued, sounding embarrassed. Like that minor character flaw even came close to the millions of ways she was fucked up. “I — I guess you could call it ‘abandonment issues’? But at first, and for a while, all I could hear were the ways you didn’t . . . seem to want me around anymore.”

“But I did —”

“I know.” Another soft kiss, and she wasn’t sure if it was to reassure her or himself. “I know that now. And I think, knowing that . . . it made what you said sound different.

“You were drunk — I know, you downplayed it, and it wouldn’t have excused . . . but your judgment was still impaired. And you didn’t kiss him. Thinking back, it didn’t even sound like you really wanted to. Did you?” She shook her head, not willing to look up at him because no matter how gently he tried to frame this she still felt like it was her fault. “And I just couldn’t stop thinking, how if this had happened a few years ago you would’ve told that story so much differently. If we were still just friends, maybe. You would’ve stormed into the cabin raging about how some jerk had ‘put his mitts all over you’ —”

Gwen couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing, pushing away from him and resting her head in her hands. “That can’t be how you think I talk!”

“It was an edited version,” he admitted, flushing. His smile was wide enough to illuminate the room, catching and refracting the dreary dawn light. “Please come back?”

She snuggled into his outstretched arms, her heart panging at the plaintive note in his voice. She wrapped herself around him, legs entangled with his and arms squeezing his waist; she’d missed him just as much. “Your impression of me is really bad,” she said with an uncontrollable giggle that made her feel like she was fourteen.

“I’ll work on it.” For a moment he just held her, soaking in the relief of being together and being okay. (At least, that's what she was doing.) “Why did it bother you so much?” he asked after a minute or so. “It doesn’t . . . well, it just doesn’t sound like you did anything wrong.”

“I guess — yeah, maybe not, technically anyway. But you’d just visited and saw how terrible my life is, and I was having an even harder time being a less-shitty version of myself . . .” He made a soft noise, almost pained, and pulled her closer. “So when this asshole showed up and was, like, exactly the type of guy I usually go for, it felt like . . . I don’t know. Like the universe was telling me we didn’t belong together. That sounds stupid. Never mind.” She pressed her face against his chest with an embarrassed groan. “Pretend I said something that doesn’t make me sound like I write horoscopes for a living.”

“I like horoscopes!” he replied, because of course he did. After a moment he added, “Thank you for telling me. It . . . helps confirm some things I was thinking earlier, when I left. Because what you said, and what you’ve been saying for a long time . . . I’ve been hearing it the way that’d hurt me the most, but I think you meant it to make me hate you.” He paused for a second, then added, “Do you think I’m right?”

Gwen shrugged, feeling more than a little like one of his campers receiving an aggressively pacifist talking-to. “Yeah. I don’t . . . like myself all that much.”

“I’ve noticed.” And David pressed another kiss to the top of her head, like he was rewarding her for being honest. Or like he just couldn’t help himself. “You haven’t treated me very well lately, Gwen. And I was — am very unhappy about that. But I don’t think it holds a candle to how you treat yourself.”

She wriggled away enough to sit up and look at him, frowning. “So you’re, what? Willing to come back to a shitty relationship because you feel sorrier for me than for you?” she demanded, even though it would’ve been smarter to just not say anything and enjoy his pity while she still had it.

But again, she said she’d be honest. And the true Gwen was kind of a bitch.

His smile turned sad, and he carefully tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear. “See, that’s what I mean. You never give yourself the benefit of the doubt.” When she frowned, not understanding, he took her hand and began playing with it, wiggling her fingers and twining them with his. “I understand better, now. How you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. And I’m not going to let you treat me like I’m a kid, or — or stupid, or whatever. I know you don’t really think that,” he added as she opened her mouth to argue. “There’s a whole cabin’s worth of proof in the living room that you don’t really think that. That’s why I wanna try again. Miscommunications, misunderstandings . . . those are fixable. And now that I know what’s been going through your head, I don’t think you’ve done anything I can’t forgive.”

Her eyes filled with tears — again, and she was going to die of dehydration if she didn’t get ahold of herself — but this time she couldn’t resent them too much, not when it felt like she was brimming over with hope that was eager to burst free. “What’re you saying, David?”

He shifted back, turning so he was sitting cross-legged facing her, and took both her hands in his. “I keep . . . trying to find a way to say it,” he admitted, looking down at their twined fingers and flushing pink, “because ‘do you want to be my girlfriend again?’ is maybe too middle-school, but ‘dating’ sounds too casual, and —”

Gwen pulled out of his grasp and closed the distance between them, straddling his lap and taking his chin in one hand. His face lifted toward her before his eyes did, darting from her chest to over her shoulder before finally meeting her gaze. She wound her free arm around his shoulders, sliding her fingers into the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. With the hand cupping his jaw she gently swiped her thumb across his lower lip, slightly chapped but still warm and softer than it looked, each breath skating across her skin feather-light and making her skin prickle. “Yeah,” she said, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to his, holding back a laugh — or maybe a sob, she wasn’t quite sure; the emotions roiling inside her were too much to separate between happy and sad. “Whatever you’re asking, yes, I want it.”

She felt his smile spread under her thumb before he brushed her hand away, tilting his head so he could kiss her. “Good,” he murmured with a breathless chuckle, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. “I mean, I was pretty sure you’d say that, but still — that’s a relief.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You idiot.” Her blood turned to ice, and she pulled away from him, stricken. For fuck’s sake, couldn’t she be anything but herself for five minutes? “I didn’t mean — !”

David smiled, far more fondly than she deserved. “I know, Gwen.”

Groaning, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m trying, really I am.”

“Don’t.” He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back until she was upright, looking down at him again. “Please don’t try so hard to be what you think I want. Just be you.”

“Right.” She forced her shoulders to relax, tilting her head back and rolling her neck until it cracked. “I’m . . . gonna have a hard time with that. ‘Just me’ is kind of the worst.”

“I know you think that,” he said, pressing his half-open mouth to the hollow of her collarbone and making her shiver. “And I’ll keep reminding you until you don’t think it anymore.”

She managed a weak chuckle, leaning into his lips as he moved up her neck. “Good luck with that.”

His answering laugh rolled over her skin, warm and teasing. “Haven’t you heard, Gwen? I like projects.”

Jesus. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she tugged him upright, taking a moment to appreciate his gasp that wasn’t just surprise. “I love you,” she said, loosening her grip and kissing his forehead, petting away the furrows her fingers left in his fluffy red hair.

His expression softened. “I love —” he began, and Gwen tightened her hold on his hair and pulled back, just so she could watch his eyes flutter shut and his breath catch, “— y-you too.”

Dragging her palm down the side of his neck, she settled her thumb on his throat, feeling his pulse flutter rapidly, and bent to kiss him again. She hadn’t necessarily meant to turn it into anything, just wanted to feel his lips against hers, but her fingers tightened involuntarily in his hair and he moaned, and it was a lit match dropped down her throat to a stomach full of gasoline, a whoosh of heat blazing to life in the pit of her belly. “David,” she breathed, not so much because she had anything to say but because she needed to say it, to roll the sound of his name around in her mouth, let it melt like chocolate on her tongue and infuse her whole body with sweetness.

“Gwen,” he said, and she thought he was doing the same thing, saying her name just because he could, but then his hands were on her shoulders and he was pushing her away, gentle but firm. “Gwen, wait, we should — talk about this —”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Okay. Sorry.” She sat back, her face warming. But as she settled her weight more firmly in his lap he jolted; and if she’d thought she was embarrassed it was nothing to the way his already-flushed cheeks flamed pink, spreading in blotches up to his hairline and the tips of his ears, down to disappear underneath his bandana. He stammered out an apology, avoiding her eyes even as his cock twitched, like bashfulness could disguise how hard he was against her. She quickly rose back up — the last thing she wanted was to make him feel ashamed, or pressured; everything between them was as tremulous and new as the first time — but realized almost instantly when David squeaked that this just shoved her chest in his face.

She hovered there for an awkward second, the two of them staring at each other in mortified horror. Then his whole expression wavered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before quickly flattening into a thin line, and the break in his composure took hers out too. She snorted, and they both burst out laughing. “I’ll just sit over here,” she said through giggles, rolling off his lap and settling on the other side of the bed with her feet curled under her so they were no longer touching. He made a small sad sound like a squeeze toy deflating, and Gwen rolled her eyes and stretched out one leg until her foot brushed his knee. “Here, hold my foot if you’re that lonely. It’s practically holding hands.”

His eyes widened, hands closing around her ankle and setting it on his thigh with something like reverence. “Thank you,” he murmured, gently tracing the outline of her foot with his fingertips. “That was very sweet, you know.”

God, she was blushing, wasn’t she? She had to be. “Yeah,” she agreed, trying to ignore the ticklish feeling as he kept playing with her foot like it was a toy doll. “Felt weird, too. I kinda wanted to insult you or something, just to balance it out.”

He smiled, wiggling her big toe like he was playing that little piggies game she used to do with her nieces when they were babies. “That’s my Gwen.” And he sounded pleased, almost proud, like she’d done something wonderful.

But that was David; even though sometimes he was completely oblivious, sometimes he noticed and appreciated the tiniest, most inconsequential things. That’s my David, she thought, her heart swelling like it was going to burst. “You wanted to talk about something?” she reminded him, waggling her toes to get his attention.

“Oh! Right.” He gently took her foot and set it on the bed next to him, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. “Sorry, I was getting distracted, and that was the whole point of you moving over there.” (He said it with a pout, like she’d gone to Spain instead of just out of arms’ reach.)

“I thought the whole point of me moving over here was so you could cool down, tiger,” she teased. But when he didn’t respond except to flush darker, his gaze firmly on a fraying edge of the pillowcase in his arms, something weird and hilarious clicked in her head. “Oh my god, are you into feet?”

“No!” He lifted his head to give her a tragically betrayed expression. “Not a weird amount!”

She grinned, poking his thigh with her outstretched foot. “What’s a weird amount?” she asked.

He shrugged, not quite able to maintain the kicked-puppy look when a smile kept trying to break through. “I don’t know. Watching people in heels step on fruit. I don’t like that sort of thing, I’ll have you know,” he added defensively, and for a second Gwen was sure he’d stick his tongue out at her.

“Sure, but you’re into them enough to know those videos exist.”

“I think I’d like to go back to you being nice to me,” he muttered, and she felt a stab of panic before he gently patted her ankle and met her gaze with a slight smile. Like he knew what she was thinking.

So she shoved past her nervousness and said, “But I thought you wanted me to be myself. And as myself, I can’t believe you never told me you were a foot guy!”

“I’m a you guy. And . . . you know. All of you. You’re perfect.”

“Yeah, but the feet are a thing, huh? At least a little bit.” When he didn’t answer she laughed, shaking her head. “So do you, like, want a footjob or something?”

“I really don’t.”

“How have we been dating this long and I didn’t know about this? What other freaky sex things are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” he said, hugging the pillow tighter. After a moment he looked away and added, “I didn’t want you to think I was weird.”

“David.” She leaned forward, waiting for him to look at her and see in her expression just how ridiculous that was. “You can’t get weirder than I am. You know that.” When the color in his face receded just a little bit, and his eyes flicked back toward her hopefully, she sighed and attempted to dredge up one of the strangest kinks in her vast library. “I’d totally fuck Drogon.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “From Game of Thrones? So would I- Iiiiiii mean, s-so would most people.”

“No, not Khal Drogo, Drogon. The dragon. Not like a humanized version, either — just full lizard.”

“Oh.” He smiled a little, almost a smirk, and Gwen felt distinctly, lovingly judged. “That does make me feel better. Thank you.”

“No problem. And tomorrow I’m gonna go into town and get a pedicure, just for you.” She wiggled her toes at him, grinning. “I’m thinking something slutty, like hot pink.”

“Gwen!” He shoved her foot away, laughing. “I was trying to have a serious conversation before you started talking about — about slutty toes and dragons!”

She cracked up too, falling over onto her side and nearly toppling off the bed. “Slutty toes,” she repeated breathlessly, and it took a few minutes to recover; every time they tried to make eye contact they burst out laughing again.

“Okay, okay.” Gwen finally sat back up, trying in vain to smooth her hair out of its mass of tangled bedhead. “I’m sorry, you were trying to say something serious. What’s up?”

“Right.” He took a deep breath, fingers knotting in her blankets until his knuckles were white. “It’s just . . . it was starting to seem like we were going to — um, you know. Be intimate.”

She resisted the urge to tease him for his word choice. “I was open to it, yeah.”

“M-me too! That’s why . . . well. Okay.” He took a deep breath, dragging his hands down his face, and Gwen noticed for the first time how tired he looked.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything,” she said, shifting closer so she could put her hand on his shoulder. “You know that, right?”

He nodded, patting her hand before brushing it away so she didn’t feel rejected, and once again she felt a rush of love so intense it almost brought tears to her eyes. He could be so simply, effortlessly kind, without even thinking about it. “I do. At least, I think I do. I- I mean, I know I do, but it’s hard to . . .” He waved his hand around his head like his thoughts were scattering birds.

“The night before we . . . well. Ended things.” He flinched at his own words, and she felt the same pain flicker over the surface of her heart.

It’s okay, she reminded herself, wishing she could sweep him up in her arms and block out all the bad memories she’d put there. It still hurts, but we’re going to be okay.

Like he’d been thinking the same thing, David stretched out his hand to find hers, squeezing her fingers. “I said I didn’t want to,” he continued in a rush, “you know. Be together like that. And you . . . seemed to get mad — at me. And then the next day you broke up with me.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath that had tears behind it, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “It’s okay,” he said, opening his eyes and giving her a slightly-watery smile. “I’m okay. But I just need to know . . .”

“God, no,” she jumped in, taking up the thread of his question as it trailed off into nothingness. “David, no, it had nothing to do with — I freaked out, but I was already — I mean, I was gonna fall apart over anything, it didn’t have to be that. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” She couldn’t stand it anymore, so she pulled his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles because she wanted to respect his need for space but she had to touch him or she was going to die.

He swallowed, watching their joined hands for a moment before looking away. “You — that really hurt me, Gwen. I just needed to tell you that.”

All the anger he’d thrown at her in the past several hours, all the pain and frustration, and it was those small, matter-of-fact words that slashed her heart in two. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

She hated apologizing — it always felt weak, or dangerous, or something. Like it was an opening for someone to hate her even more, like she was handing them a weapon to hold over her head for the rest of her life. (It was why she hated receiving them, too; she could be spiteful and vindictive as anyone, but it was uncomfortable watching someone flay themselves in front of her.)

But with David . . . it didn’t feel like she was giving him leverage when she told him she was sorry. She wasn’t scared he’d hold onto it and throw it back in her face someday. She wasn’t resentful of him, and she wasn’t worried about how he’d react.

She wasn’t anything but truly, genuinely sorry.

And he didn’t brush it aside, act like she had no reason to apologize the way she’d half-expected. Either she hadn’t been giving him enough credit, or he’d grown up while she wasn’t paying attention. Maybe a little of both. But whatever the cause, he just stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and nodded, a ghost of his smile returning for a second. “It’s okay,” he said, looking at her like she was — god, like he loved her. “Hearing it helps.”

She wasn’t sure if he needed more than that, but she wasn’t going to let a single doubt linger in his mind. “Seriously, David, you can — I won’t ever be mad at you for saying no, ever. For any reason, or no reason or . . . whatever. It’s okay. It’ll always be okay.”

“I — um, I had a reason.” He spoke fast, his eyes wide like he’d surprised himself. Still, he pressed his lips together into a flat line and met her gaze, clearly nervous but just as clearly not intending to end the conversation until they’d said everything they needed to. He was so brave. “I should’ve mentioned it at the time, but I guess I was scared.”

Gwen snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I can relate to that.”

He rewarded her with a small, soft smile before continuing, “The thing is, everything had just been so gosh-darned strange between us, and it felt like you were avoiding me all the time — except when we were together like that.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “It sounds silly, but I couldn’t help but worry that maybe that was . . . all you were interested in me for.”

Her stomach sank. “And then when you said no, and I freaked . . .”

David nodded, his throat moving as he swallowed again. “Yeah,” he murmured, looking away. “It — it sure felt like you only wanted me for that one thing, all of a sudden, and when you couldn’t get it . . .”

“I dumped you,” she finished, covering her mouth in horror. “Oh, David.”  

“I was a little nervous to tell you to stop.” He pulled his hands from hers so he could fidget, twisting his long fingers together. “Earlier — just now. A minute ago. So we could talk. I — I know it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t stop thinking you might get mad at me again.”

“I wasn’t mad,” she replied, her hands shaking with how badly she wanted to hug him. (And god, what a change from their normal paradigm, that she was the one who had to hold herself back from a hug.) “I mean, I was, but never at you. I was mad at me, for screwing things up. I — you’re right, I was avoiding you, or avoiding talking to you, I guess. Because I didn’t know how to talk to you, how to act so you wouldn’t find out that I’m . . .” Her throat closed, thick and gummy with tears, and she took a deep breath and swallowed them back. “Rotten,” she finished, which was a stupid, melodramatic word but it felt right; it described the way she still felt despite everything, squishy and overripe and putrid. “It was getting harder to hide, once we were together all the time. And when we were fucking —” She couldn’t tiptoe around the words like David, not when she could just say it and watch him flush red. Even her rotted heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled. “It felt like I didn’t have to try so hard. I couldn’t be amazing, but I could make you feel amazing. And if I could do that . . .” She sniffed, looking away and wiping her face clean. “I thought I was letting you know how much you mean to me,” she admitted, the realization coming right on the heels of the words. “I mean, obviously I wasn’t — add that to the list of things I suck at — but when you didn’t want to have sex, it . . . I took it really hard.”

Her face was turned away, so his hand on her shoulder made her jump. “It felt like I was rejecting the only thing you had to offer,” he guessed, his voice soft and sad but no longer on the verge of tears. “Gwen . . .”

“It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head like she could rattle her self-pity out of her head. “That was just me being stupid, I know that. More importantly — seriously.” She looked back at him, at his beautiful open face, at the way he was watching her like she could possibly have something to say that mattered. “It’s never been about sex with you, David,” she said. Felt the encroaching tears yet again and decided to ignore them. If they came, they came; they weren’t going to stop her, because it was the most essential thing in the world that he knew, that he believed her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex is really good —” He chuckled, blushing exactly the way she’d hoped he would, and it gave her a little glowing spark of strength, “— but it doesn’t even come close to being what I love most about you. None of that stuff —” She gestured toward her bedroom door, and the mess of crafts cluttering their common room. “— comes close. It’s — everything, a billion other things I don’t know how to explain or describe or show you but I love you, so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone and it scares me, and — I’m rambling. Sorry.” She shrank back, feeling like an idiot again. “I just wanted you to know that. It . . . we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, ever, and I’ll never be mad at you, or disappointed, or anything like that.”

“Thank you, Gwen.” He was quiet for a minute, and she felt the tension ratcheting up in her shoulders with each long, spiraling second. Part of her wanted to snap at him to just say something, finish the damn thought before he gave her a heart attack, but that was her anxiety and regret talking, and she never wanted to take her own issues out on him ever again.

(She probably would, considering what a mess she was. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it on purpose.)

“You’re right, though.” David’s voice was a surprise, as was the soft laugh accompanying his words. He was sitting with his head tilted back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling like he could see through it to the fading stars and brightening sky. His gaze dropped to meet hers, and he immediately looked down and away, biting his lip to try and hide a smile. “We are pretty darn great together.”

A massive weight dropped from Gwen’s chest, rolling away like a stone. “Yeah,” she agreed. Then, to test the waters: “I taught you well.”

It worked; he turned back toward her, his shyness replaced with half-serious indignation. “I like to think some of it was natural talent!”

“Ehh,” she teased, holding her hand out flat and seesawing it back and forth in a “so-so” motion. “Pretty sure enthusiasm was doing most of the heavy lifting in the beginning there.”

He crossed his arms over his chest with a disbelieving scoff. “Well, I never!”

She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. What a dork. “Y’know, I should say we were insanely good. But I dunno, for all I know you’ve totally lost it.” Shaking her head mournfully, she quickly glanced over to make sure he wasn’t actually offended.

His mouth dropped open, his eyes growing wide before narrowing. “I haven’t lost anything!” he snapped, and — oh, the playful irritation in his voice made her stomach twist. Not in the awful sick way she’d been tied up in knots earlier, but with a flush of heat that took her breath away.

Managing a smirk, she laid back on her elbows, a warm glow of satisfaction blooming in her chest as his gaze dropped to her stomach, to the narrow strip of skin where her camisole had ridden up. She waited until he dragged his eyes back up to her, dark and intense like the ocean in a storm, then grinned at him.

“Wanna bet?”

His face lit up — or, not quite. Because his smile was bright and warm as sunshine, but underneath the tenderness was a sharp competitive edge that he almost never turned on her. It was almost intimidating, but the shiver it sent down her spine had nothing to do with fear. “Always,” he replied.

Before she could respond he’d pushed himself to his knees and grabbed her just above her calves; a quick tug forward and Gwen was pulled flat on her back, dragged down the bed until her body was sprawled out beneath him. He let go of her, bracing his hands on either side of her head and bending down to capture her mouth in a kiss.

She curled one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, bending her knees so he was caged between her legs and arching her back to bring as much of her skin against his as possible. He was warm, almost uncomfortably so — her furnace, her own personal sun, and she wanted nothing more than to melt into him. When he abandoned her mouth in favor of trailing long, suckling kisses down her neck she pressed her lips together, biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound.

“You could’ve —” A gasp, too sudden for her to swallow it back, and she felt David’s satisfied smirk against the base of her throat as he bit down again. “— given me a concussion, you asshole.”

He hummed in assent, his lips skating up to her ear and his tongue lapping at the sensitive spot just behind it. “I know,” he said mildly, “but I didn’t.”

He gently took her earlobe between his teeth, and she couldn’t help the strangled noise that was somewhere between a moan and a sigh. Grabbing his hair again, she dragged his mouth back for another kiss, enjoying the shudder that rolled down his spine and made him tremble everywhere his body was touching hers. For a few dizzying minutes she held him there, barely allowing either of them to draw breath. His mouth was blood-hot, warmer than even her fevered skin, and she didn’t know exactly where she wanted it because she wanted it everywhere — against hers, his tongue lapping at the roof of her mouth and making her shiver; around one of her nipples, his teeth catching on the pebbled skin; sucking bruises into her inner thighs, closing around her clit, dipping inside her cunt, her asshole, along the sensitive strip of skin between the two. She wanted him to kiss her places that weren’t even close to erotic but she knew would burst into flame if he so much as brushed his lips over them: the bone jutting out from her ankle, the ticklish spot inside her elbow, wherever the fuck he wanted to press the gorgeous wet heat of his mouth she wanted to let him, because from the very first kiss he’d been good, better than he’d had any right to be but time and experience had worked their magic and now his mouth could ruin her; without even trying he could reduce her to twitching, shuddering goo.

“Take this off,” she gasped, not sure if she meant her clothes or his because she was wriggling out from under him and trying to remove both at the same time, her fingers clumsy and shaking with how badly she needed to touch him without any fabric in the way. She struggled to her knees, practically yanking her camisole off and throwing it across the room before hooking her fingers in his belt loops and dragging him close enough for her to undo the buckle. “Come on —”

“So I won?” He laughed breathlessly, untucking his shirt and pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, smugness making him unfairly graceful like he was trying to show off.

“Sure, whatever,” she muttered, because who cared about some bet when he was kneeling half-naked in front of her? They’d had silly, jokey sex but that was not this, not when he was so beautiful she was having trouble looking directly at him, hair mussed and lips damp and swollen and pink blooming in blotches under the light constellations of freckles across his skin. He looked debauched, flushed and obscene even with half his clothes still on, and there wasn’t room in her brain for humor when all she could feel was clawing shaking need. She dropped onto all fours, leaning down to trace the hard outline of his cock with her tongue, and even through his shorts he was burning warm. He sucked in a sharp breath, his pulse spiking under her mouth, and Gwen couldn’t resist closing her lips around the shape of his erection, breathing in the salty-ammonia smell of precome and feeling her mouth water. “David,” she began, but there was no end to that sentence so she lifted her head slightly, bit the delicate ridge of his hipbone where it peeked out from the waist of his shorts, caught him as his hips stuttered forward. She kept him steady, one hand splayed across his lower back, as she rose to her knees without lifting her mouth from his skin: over the barely-there softness of his stomach (no werewolf six-pack here, despite his lean strength), tongue swirling among the faint red hair below his belly button, following the curve of his ribs, just barely brushing one nipple — he made a small, strung-out noise in the back of his throat, almost despairing as she moved on up to his neck — until she found his lips again, dragging him into a bruising, breathless kiss.

When she pulled away David’s smile was gone, drawn out of his mouth and leaving him panting. “Okay,” he murmured, soft and almost reverent, but before she could figure out what specifically was okay he hauled her forward like she weighed nothing, capturing her lips for a second before trailing down her throat, pausing at a sensitive place above her pulse point and biting down hard, sucking the skin between his teeth.

Pain bloomed under his mouth, rippling out into shockwaves of cold-hot pleasure, and when he bit her again she couldn’t hold back a moan. “You’re gonna — leave a mark,” she gasped, gently shoving his head away and running her fingers over the damp skin. It was already tender, and judging by David’s expression, contrite and amused and darkly heated, it was going to be a hell of a hickey. “I can’t hide this!”

“I’m sorry!” he tried, but it wasn’t close to convincing when he couldn’t hide his grin. His eyes drifted down to the mark again and he licked his lips, expression growing dazed for a moment before he snapped back up to look at her face. “I can make you a bandana, if you want. Just until it fades.”

“Fucker.” Gwen laughed, not so much because it was funny but because it was him, and she loved him more than she could possibly stand. Tired of the overheated, confining clothes she was still wearing, she shimmied out of them, tossing her pajama shorts and half-soaked underwear without bothering to see where they landed. “Come here,” she said, pressing her legs together and shivering at the wet slide of her inner thighs and labia, a thousand nerve endings sparking to glistening life. “You can make it up to me.”

She swore she could almost see his mouth water, his gaze dropping between her legs as he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am,” he said — and they’d never tried that before, but judging by the way his cock twitched and his eyes jumped sheepishly to hers, it was something he’d thought about a lot. Filing the information away for later, she held out her hand and pulled him closer when he took it, resting her forehead against his. It took just the slightest shift in the angle of her head to kiss him again so she did it without thinking, her hand sliding between their bodies to curl loosely around the outline of his erection.

He gasped shakily against her mouth, his hands fluttering up and down her waist like he couldn’t decide where to touch her. One of them dropped to her ass, a light, almost hesitant touch, and she rewarded it with a soft groan; he made a weak noise in the back of his throat and pulled her closer, kneading her ass before slipping lower, between her legs. The heel of his hand brushed teasingly against her clit as he pressed two fingers into her, and she mimicked his pace, gliding her palm down the length of his clothed cock and relishing the way his fingers twitched against her inner walls.

He fingered her like that, slow and steady, for — she didn’t know how long. Lost track of the strokes that sent warmly buzzing tendrils up her spine, lost count of the breaths gasped raggedly between their lips, of the kisses that melted into one another until she wasn’t entirely sure where she was, she was hyper aware of the heartbeat pounding in her clit and every too-gentle drag of his hand but numb to literally everything else that wasn’t right here, wasn’t David —

“Fuck,” she breathed, pressing her forehead against his shoulder with a shuddering sigh. She turned her head and lapped at his throat, sucking his skin into her mouth and biting down hard enough to make his fingers jolt inside her, pressing against her g-spot for one delicious moment. “God, I -- please, David, just make me come, please --”

Another shiver, another twitch of his fingers that took her breath away. “Okay,” he said, his voice strangled and hoarse. He pulled out of her and sat back on his heels. “Lay down, all right?”

Yes, yes, whatever he was thinking was 100% all right with her. She almost kneed him as she scrambled into position, but her embarrassed giggle evaporated as he lowered himself onto his elbows, scooching her up the bed like she weighed nothing and settling between her legs. Alarm cut through her arousal, her mind immediately trying to calculate the last time she’d showered, let alone shaved --

His eyes flicked up to hers, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know,” he replied before she’d even opened her mouth. “I promise, I really want to.”

Oh, god. She covered her face to muffle a squeak, flopping onto her back and looking up at the ceiling. “I’m that predictable, huh?”

David hummed thoughtfully, the sound vibrating up the inside of her thigh. “Only with some things. Other times you surprise me quite a bit.”

“Yeah?” He kissed the top of her mound, his tongue dipping into the V formed by her lips and just brushing her clit — a teasing touch, his mouth moving away even as she lifted her hips instinctively. “I’m surprising?”

“You are,” he said, the camp-counselor cheer in his voice making what he was doing feel even more obscene. He traced the line of her cunt with his mouth before gently fingering her open. “The first time you did this, for example. That surprised me quite a bit!”

“This?” She knew exactly what he meant — her stomach still dipped and swooped at the memory of kneeling on the floor of his shower, the heady rush of confidence and vulnerability she’d felt looking up at him with his cock at her lips — but she tilted her head back with a sigh and breathed, “Pretty sure I’ve never eaten you out before. Not that I wouldn’t be into that, just saying.”

He gasped and spluttered, pulling back to wipe his mouth and staring at her with wide, shocked eyes, then coughed, tapping his chest with his other hand. “Excuse —?!”

When he lowered his head to cough again and take an unsteady breath, Gwen sat up on her elbows, not sure if she should be amused, worried, or mortified. “Oh my god, please tell me you did not just choke on cunt juice!”

David gave her a disgusted look, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “There had to be another way to word that,” he said, as primly as he could while still struggling to catch his breath. “But — um, you didn’t…w-was a joke, or…?”

“I meant it,” she admitted, “but I get it if you don’t want to, don’t feel pressured either way —”

“No — I want to.” He looked startled by his own words, and immediately dropped his gaze, smoothing his palms down her thighs like he could disguise how his fingers trembled. “Sometime. If — if you do.”

Gwen let the awkward silence linger for another moment, not quite sure how to move forward. “Good. That’s…something to put on the to-do list.”

“Y-yes. Okay.” He did meet her eyes then, brightening. “See, you did it again!”

She frowned. “Did what?”

“Surprised me.” He leaned over her body to tug her into a slow, sweet kiss. When she pulled back to breathe he cupped the back of her neck, holding her close and brushing his nose against hers. “You’re an adventure every day, Gwen,” he murmured.

“Yeah, I’m a real goddamn roller coaster,” she grumbled, shifting her hips upward in a blind search for his touch. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d fucking ride me already.”

David laughed softly against her mouth before turning his attention to her jaw, throat, collarbone — a damp, shivery brush of his tongue against her skin moving down her body. “Well goodness, Gwen, now I’m confused.” She both hated and loved the smug, teasing tone he got whenever her composure cracked. “I could make love to you,” he continued, nipping the skin just below her bellybutton and making her jump, “but I thought you wanted me to do this first.”

He closed his lips around her clit and sucked gently, catching her with an arm behind her back as she arched toward the maddening wet heat of his mouth. Lowering her hips back to the bed with infuriating tenderness, he paused, resting his cheek on her inner thigh and looking up the length of her body. When she met his eyes he smiled, pausing to press a chaste kiss to her leg before returning her gaze.

“What do you want, Gwen?” And he asked it untauntingly. Seriously. Like he wanted nothing more than for her to tell him what to do, and like he’d do it without question.

His sincerity was going to be the death of her, she decided with a groan, burying her hands in her hair and shielding her face from his view with her arms. “Fuck. I don’t know. Everything.”

When it came to David, she always wanted everything.

“That’s a real swell coincidence, then!” He traced the seam where her hip and leg met, then dipped down, dragging his fingertips through the wetness smearing her thighs before swiping them up to circle her clitoris. “Because ‘everything’ is exactly what I’d like to give you.”

She barely had time to absorb the statement before his mouth was on her again, sliding the hood back with his lips before swirling his tongue beneath it and around the exposed clit. It was almost too much, too sensitive, bordering on painful and if he stopped she might actually die; she knotted her fingers in the flimsy sheets to keep from pushing his face harder against her, vaguely aware that she was mumbling nonsensical pleas, an incoherent litany of “oh god yes please fuck don’t stop” —

He didn’t. Without lifting his mouth he braced one hand under her knee and pushed it toward her chest, bending her leg and using two fingers of his other hand to enter her. It took him a second but when he found her g-spot he pressed up hard, stroking with the same rapid pace of his flicking tongue. It was more pressure than she was used to, strangely achy but pleasurably so, and it was impossible not to writhe under his touch as the need to come coiled tighter, dragged her higher, kept her suspended on the brink for a frustrating, dizzying, electrifying moment that stretched like a rubber band…

Then it snapped — a dam breaking, a wave cresting and finally letting gravity take over — and she curled forward with a sob of relief, pleasure rippling through her limbs and turning her bones to liquid, trembling through the aftershocks.

The shift from overwhelmingly perfect to just plain overwhelming was a split second. “Nngh, stop, stop —” She pawed weakly at his head, just barely smacking the edge of his fringe with her fingertips, but he lifted his mouth from her with a look of concern. “You’re fine,” she added quickly, struggling to catch her breath and shivering from the buzz of overstimulation, “s’just too much.”

David nodded, relieved, and sat back, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “Wow,” he murmured, eyes wide and awed. “Wowzers. Gwen, have you ever done that before?”

She sat up, frowning. “Come like a train? Like every time we — whoa.”

The sheets between her legs were wet. Not damp, wet like she’d spilled a glass of water (and cooling rapidly, she realized with a grimace, shifting to avoid the blotchy patch). Presumably the same wetness dripping down David’s chin.

“Oh my god.” She groaned, hiding her face in her hands like if she couldn’t see it, it would disappear. Or feel it slicking her inner thighs. “And uh, not really,” she finally muttered, a belated answer to his question. “Once or twice, but you’ve really gotta work over the g-spot to make it happ --” She glanced up just in time to catch his expression, a flash of recognition mixed with pleased sheepishness. “Which you were.” David quickly looked away, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and flushing pink. “On purpose?”

“I -- I’d read about it, that’s all!” he said, meeting her gaze defensively. “I knew it was, well . . . a thing. That some wom- people can do. And I was -- I’ve seen -- I was curious!” Gwen tried to stifle a laugh and failed, turning it into a choking snort, and he blushed even darker. “I know I should’ve just asked, but I couldn’t figure out how to say . . .”

She waited for him to finish the sentence, but when it became clear he had no intention of doing so, she injected as much demented cheer into her voice as possible and chirped, “‘Golly gee, Gwen, could I try making you squirt sometime?’”

Her imitation of his voice was passable -- she’d spent enough years making fun of him to get good at it -- and though he turned his head away she was positive he rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t know if that counts as bad language or not.”

“Oh no. It’d be so shocking if I said one of the no-no words.”

He chuckled, trying and failing to disguise it as a sigh, and climbed out of bed, tugging the rest of his clothes off. (As he picked up his shirt and wiped his face clean, Gwen quickly bent forward and sniffed the damp spot on the mattress. A little like saline, mostly like nothing. Good to know.)

“So how often do you trawl the internet for sex tips?” she asked, grinning. “Or -- god, tell me you’re not checking out books from the library.”

“Of course not!” He looked horrified at the thought. “And . . . sometimes. More often, after we started dating. I . . .” He paused, looking like he was reconsidering the rest of that sentence, and joined her on the bed to lean back against the headboard. “The time you visited, when I -- used my mouth on you for the first time.” (And what was it about his delicate tiptoeing that made it sound so much more filthy than if he’d said it outright?) “I thought -- or, well, I hoped . . . anyway, I did a little reading. Online, obviously. Just in case.”

So that was how he’d been so goddamn good right off the fucking bat. Always prepared, her boy scout. “Well, I appreciate it,” she said, and sat up, throwing one leg over his lap and draping her arms around his shoulders. “Can I please fuck you now, Mr. Greenwood?”

He sucked in an unsteady breath, his cock twitching up against her; the tip of his head slipped between her outer folds, making them both gasp. “C-condom,” he breathed, his voice raspy and uneven, and she scrambled off his lap before she could give in to the voice in the back of her head insisting they didn’t need to stop and get anything, he was right there , if she’d angled her hips right he could’ve been inside her already --

Her fingers were shaking as she retrieved the foil packet and brought it over, letting him take it with relief. (There was no way she wouldn’t have ripped it, with the way her whole body was trembling like the room had dropped ten degrees.) She watched him roll the latex down his cock, unable to tear her eyes away from how beautifully flushed it was, precome beading at the tip and slicking the inside of the condom.

God, she needed him inside her. Immediately.

David caught her with a breathless laugh as she vaulted back up onto the bed, curling his fingers around her hips and holding her steady. “Careful,” he murmured, and she rolled her eyes, fumbling blindly between her legs to line him up. “Have I- hhha --” He cut off, squeezing his eyes shut with a sigh as the head of his cock pressed into her, “t- told you how beautiful you are?”

Gwen frowned. It was kind of hard to focus on the question when her body was fluttering and pulsing as it adjusted to the welcome intrusion. “A lot?” she guessed, sinking down the last few inches too fast and bottoming out with an electric shock of pain and pleasure. “Fuck.”

“No. Not like that.” He slid one arm between their bodies, parting her folds to see the way she stretched around him. “I -- think you’re so pretty,” he managed, gently tracing her inner labia with his fingertips. “I like your colors. And how we -- um, contrast.”

No one had ever told her that her cunt was pretty before. It was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David would do. And he was right; his cock looked so pale against her, where she faded from shocking pink into a dark purplish-brown that lightened as it blended into her normal skin tone. There was something about it that reminded her of a sunset -- which was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David made her think.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, pressing her forehead against his and raising up a few inches, “and I love you so much.”

“I — love you too.” Suddenly he froze, his eyes widening and his grip tightening around her waist, keeping her from moving.

“David? Everything okay?” God, he wasn’t having some kind of terrible flashback, was he? Maybe they shouldn’t be doing this.

His eyes flicked up to hers, and a wide, sunny smile spread across his face like spilled honey. “This is just like the first time.”

It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about, but then it hit her: this was like the night they’d first had sex, from the position to the location to the dizzying, giddy strangeness of it.

God, he was perfect.

“Sort of.” She pressed a hard, quick kiss to his lips before grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging his head to the side so she could reach his neck; he whimpered and twitched twice, each pulse against her inner walls taking her breath away. “Except I know you way better now.” She punctuated the statement by licking a wide stripe up the side of his throat, then sucked a mark right beside his Adam’s apple, where it’d be safely hidden by his bandana. “All your weak points.”

“I—” He swallowed, tilting his head obediently as she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses up to his ear, “d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She just hummed; that wasn’t worth dignifying with a real response, and the vibrations against his damp skin made him shiver. Instead she toyed with him: tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue, nipping at his earlobe with just a hint of teeth, exploring the delicate area around his ear and neck she knew so well, had staked her claim to a hundred times before.

David’s breathing quickened, roughened, and she had to tighten her grip on his hair to keep him from squirming. Her hips weren’t moving but his were, minute jolts she was positive he couldn’t control. “Gwen,” he gasped, “please, I -- hhit's too much, I can’t --”

“Could you come like this?” she asked, fighting to keep her own voice level. She could feel his pulse pounding in his cock and in his throat, under her lips; her clit throbbed in response, a metronome perfectly attuned to him. “Without me even moving? Or just . . .” She squeezed her internal muscles, clenching around him in a quick staccato pattern, and lapped her tongue against his neck in time.

“Nnno. Or -- yes?” His fingers tightened around her hips, a helpless spasm. “I don’t know. It’d . . . be torture.”

His voice was so low, wrecked, and Gwen’s stomach went into a dizzying, delicious free-fall. “Good,” she said before she could stop herself, think it through and reject it as sounding weird and freaky. David successfully pulled back from her, his eyes wide and blown out with arousal, and he looked so beautiful she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out, “I want to torture you sometime. Nothing you’re not okay with -- and not now, but . . .”

“Yes,” he breathed, and the word was barely out of his mouth before his hand curled around the back of her neck and he was dragging her mouth to his, a kiss made of teeth and desperation with words gasped out against her lips: “yes, god, whatever you want Gwen please I love you --” His other hand slid to cup the curve of her thigh, urge her up onto her knees so he could fuck her properly, pull her back down to set a rhythm that bordered on frantic.

She couldn’t help but laugh, even as she braced her palms against the headboard for better leverage to ride him faster, harder. “Told you,” she teased, biting his lower lip hard enough to drag a breathy whine from him. “Weak.”

That made him moan, drawn-out and broken, and he slipped one hand between their bodies; curling it into a loose fist, he splayed his index and middle fingers just enough for her clit to glide between them, adding an extra jolt of friction every time she moved her hips. Gwen gasped, clutching at his back with one hand as her second orgasm coiled tighter at the base of her spine.

She bit his shoulder because she could, because she had to, because he’d like it and because it was that or scream loud enough to wake the entire camp. “Fuck, god, David --”

He shuddered and buried his face in her hair, his breath hot with a stream of pleasured mumbles beginning and ending in her name --

Gwen didn’t know which of them came first. It didn’t matter, really, because they dragged each other over the edge. His cock was almost painfully hard, unyielding as iron as her muscles tightened and fluttered around it, and the sudden snap upward of his hips as he came nearly knocked her breathless.

She was going to be sore tomorrow. Or . . . later today. She turned her head and mouthed at David’s neck, relishing the sweet-salt taste of his sweat, and let him hold her up as they caught their breath.

“I love you too,” she whispered belatedly. David huffed a weak laugh into her hair, stroking her back with a touch that was light and ticklish. “But we’re sleeping in your room tonight. I don’t wanna deal with the wet spot.”

Yeah, she was going to be sore, and exhausted, and facing a hell of a cleanup both in her bedroom and outside of it.

David groaned and gently pushed her upright, sliding out from under her and taking her hand, like she was a camper who needed to be ushered back to bed. “Phone,” she bleated, weakly reaching for it as they walked past, and he paused to pick it up for her, and in that second she loved him even more, more than she’d ever thought possible.

Worth it.

[obeymehasinfluncedmythoughts]

Brothers With a Crafty Poly!MC

And I mean like, arts and crafts! Because I think that a good chunk of us are creative people. With creativity comes mess though 😅. Speaking of creativity, I made some strawberry barrettes. I have two sets to sell, but one single for me, and tbh I love themmmmmmmmmm.

This kinda includes my artistic s/o ask, but kinda doesn't. Basically anything at Micheals lmao

Lucifer

The mess and supplies are most likely what bothers him.

Like, he actively encourages hobbies, but when people begin trailing supplies throughout the house (thread, sequins, glitter ((thanks Diavolo)), and little strings of hot glue), the demon becomes absolutely annoyed.

This stuff is okay in it's designated space, and honestly he doesn't mind the occasional trail of glitter that somehow got stuck to you in some way, but all the time drives him crazy.

I mean it's to the point where he's always got something stuck to him.

(^^which is pretty unavoidable, if he hangs around you often. Get him a lint brush, that might shut him up)

He does enjoy watching you work though. Seeing you dedicate your time to something other then school and his brothers is extremely heart-warming.

He isn't afraid to criticize your work. However, there's always some recommendation to follow. Except when it comes to things he's never seen done before like resin art. Then he'll just be pretty straight forward, and might not even tell you what he thinks you did wrong because even he doesn't know.

Especially likes hobbies that include scrapbooking, embroidery, and glass art.

Mammon

He's basically like a kid bothering his parent when you do your crafty stuff.

Like he either wants to be apart of your crafts.

Mammon also digs through your things all the time, so if you have valuable craft supplies, hide them!

Tends to spill things all the time. Expect to find him covered in glitter at least twice.

He does, probably, make something from your supplies. There's no telling how it turns out. He's going to be very proud of it though, and depending on how his brothers react, you can make or break his self-confidence for the rest of the day.

(Mammon, sweetie, I love what you made, but please don't use my sewing scissors on craft paper ever again)

Mammon likes to lay his head on your lap when you do things. Puppy dog man.

Likes hobbies that include; Jewelry making, basically anything shiny, and sculpting

Leviathan

He's going to take FULL advantage of your creativity space lmao.

Loves to do things with you, by himself, watch you do them, ext.

Really enjoys taking stickers and putting them on you lmao.

Will probably try anything once.

(^He likes the idea of having something no one has. Limited edition is kinda his thing after all. But, wood carving/burning and knitting don't ever agree with him)

You'll probably wake up one day to find some weird, intricate craft project started in the middle the night. He might leave notes telling you not to move the project, or to please add X/Y/Z so it's a bit more stable.

Also he just buys random craft supplies that you don't even know the name to.

Likes hobbies that include; Sewing, resin art, and polymer clay.

Satan

Oh my goodness this many loves to buy fucking YARN.

I don't know if it's just the cat man in him, or if it's because he especially enjoy knitting/crochet crafts, but he buys yarn for your supplies all the time.

And it's always the weird stuff too. Like the yarn with pompoms, or something in that neon green he seems to adore, or whatever else he finds that catches his eye.

(Honestly, everything that catches his eye is scary)

He also really enjoys watching embroidery.

Idk something about all the parts coming together to form a beautiful picture really makes him relax.

Tbh you could honestly make him anything for a gift and he'd be happy you put time and effort into something!

(Best gift Idea off the top of my head is one of those little hads with cat ears lmao.)

Likes hobbies that include; Knitting/crocheting, paper craft, and embroidery

Asmodeus

Asmo is either going to treat your space one of two ways.

He'll be your best craft partner, buying little charms and stuff for the two of you to use on the things you'll end up doing. He always cleans up after himself, and makes sure to replace whatever he uses.

Or he's the worst and never cleans up after himself, and takes without ever giving back lmao.

Either way he's still always going to be up there with you, doing something to bedazzle his life.

(Remember the phone case convo? Yeah, that's basically this situation all over again...just with EVERYTHING.)

He kinda does the Levi thing too where he makes stuff and just leaves it there over night, but you'll always know what he's doing, because Asmodeus always brags about his skillful hands.

Likes hobbies that include; soap making, resin art, and sewing. Basically Levi without the extra weeb

Beelzebub

Y'know how the stereotypical TV dad is always like "Wow, amazing" whenever their child does something?

That's pretty much Beel.

(I kinda relate him to my dad lmao. I show him something and the response is always "Wow babe, that's amazing! Have you ever thought of taking classes in that?". Like, I'm not saying beel is dad energy, but I'm saying he has that same support for his partner. He wants them to commit and be happy with whatever they do.)

He is pretty bad about getting crumbs on your workspace though.

Likes to sit you in his lap when you're working so he can watch you do you're thing. It's not exactly the best thing for most projects, but it is pretty cute.

He's really aggressive about treating your injuries lmao.

Likes hobbies that include; Most candy/cake decoration, polymer clay, and miniatures (!!!! He really likes miniatures !!!!!)

Belphegor

Most crafts are loud, stink, and give him a headache. Like really.

Who knew that glass cutting made such screechy noises? That sewing machines could be so violent? How wood burning and hot glue smell rancid?

Ugh. He avoids your crafty space like the plague.

It's a bad napping area, and tbh, it's probably the most annoying place in the house for him when he's not sleeping anyways.

(My boy needs Q U I E T)

He will take advantage of the fruits of your labors though.

He likes fluffy sweaters, blankets of all kind, and those pretty glass decorations you put in the window to catch light.

Pillows are fun, heated rice packs are too, and anything that smells good is great in his book. Honestly just as easy to make something for him as Satan tbh.

Likes hobbies that include; Knitting/crocheting, quilting, and candle making. He might burn the house down with that lastone though

[secretshinigami]

All Noble Things

Author: @kiranatrix For: @resilicns Pairings/Characters: Near and Gevanni Rating/Warnings: Gen, no warnings Prompt: Near reflecting on his relationship with Wammy’s and L’s reputation Author’s notes: In How to Read, it says that Gevanni’s hobby is building ships in a bottle. So I imagined a scene where Near is observing Gevanni, now in the role of Watari, building a special ship. The time period is flexible but I imagined it after the C-Kira case and before the case with Minoru. This is a loose interpretation of your prompt but I hope you enjoy it!

—

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Gevanni.” Near didn’t look up as he carefully laid out another domino on the floor, perfectly spaced from its neighbor and approximately two centimeters from chaos. Pinched fingers pulled back carefully and twisted around a strand of white hair. “Two things, really.”

Gevanni looked up from his workbench as the long but comfortable silence between them was broken. Since Roger had died and he’d taken on the role of Watari, he was usually the question-asker. Would you like lunch now? Have you heard back about this or that piece of evidence? Did you have another nightmare last night? 

He’d gotten used to it, to Near. To being the bedrock that an island could rest upon. “Two questions?”

No, he was more of a species imported to Near’s world and being gradually altered by the isolation, evolving to fill his niche. But he had no complaints–it was a quiet, stable life and Near paid him well. He didn’t mind the solitude. “You’re exceeding your daily allotment. I’ll have to demand a raise if this keeps up.”

“I believe I gave you a raise just three months ago. If these demands keep up, I’ll have to find another Watari.” Near deadpanned it but his eyes flicked up briefly, and Rester knew he was joking. Another domino clinked against the terrazzo floors, this one with hand-carved scrimshaw detailing a breaching whale.

Gevanni snorted and turned back to the ship in a bottle he was working on. “Good luck finding someone else to source those pajamas with the specific blend of Pima cotton you prefer. I’ve kept that a secret. Iron-clad job security.” He grinned as he carefully reached a long wire into the bottle to pat down blue and white putty mimicking ocean waves. “So, what’s question number one?”

“Can you tie back my hair? It keeps getting in the way.” Near flicked a long strand over his shoulder but it fell again, dangling dangerously close to his creation. “Mind the–”

“Dominos? Yeah, I’m practically a ninja at this point.” Gevanni pushed his loupe glasses to the top of his head before carefully making his way over spiraling lines of set-up dominos to Near at the center. He knelt and pulled a hair-tie from his pocket, holding it between his teeth as he gathered up all the silvery strands. “Holf spill,” he murmured around the band. Near was stone-still as he made a quick and slightly messy ponytail, leaving some loose hair around the face for twirling. “Better?”

“Much. Thank you.” Near very briefly made eye contact as Gevanni went back to his workbench before looking back to his pile of dominos. He sorted through them for another scrimshaw piece. Gevanni had made a special set for him on his last birthday but he always saved them for the end. 

“Mmhm.” Gevanni slid back into his chair and picked up the little ship, a model of a 19th-century whaler. “So what was the second question?” 

“I was curious what you were working on.” Near let a domino tumble across his knuckles, back and forth, back and forth. “You’ve never spent that much time on just one ship before.” He caught the domino with his thumb and placed it next in line. 

“Oh, so you noticed?” Gevanni held up the little whaler on his palm, clearly proud of the highly detailed craftsmanship. All the masts were down and tied with an array of strings that could be pulled up once it was in the bottle to raise them. “I guess this one’s special since it doesn’t really exist. Thought I’d challenge myself. It’s…well, it’s how I imagine the Pequod to look, the whaling ship in–“

“Moby Dick?” Near stared at the miniature vessel, head slightly cocked as he smoothed a loose strand of hair. “The ship Captain Ahab used to chase his white whale.”

Gevanni smiled. “That’s right. It’s one of my favorite books. Have you read it?” 

“Years ago. I remember not liking it very much. The whale killed him in the end.” Near placed the last couple of dominos and let out a long sigh. The moments before flicking the first piece were the ones he both cherished and dreaded. The satisfaction of creation could be drawn out like a  monotone note, but when it was finished, the spectacular destruction was often over too soon. So, he hesitated and stood up instead, padding to Gevanni’s workbench to watch more creation. 

“I bet you’d like the book more these days. Single-minded obsession to defeat a power past human control? Throwing all caution and sense of self-preservation to the wind? The thrill of the chase?” Gevanni arched a brow. “Can’t tell me that doesn’t sound familiar.”

Near frowned slightly and hunched in on himself. “I suppose you mean L. Or do you characterize me as so foolish?”

“You’re L now.” Gevanni disliked that he had to remind Near of that even now, years after the first L had died. “But yes, it reminds me of what Matsuda told us about your predecessor’s obsession with Kira. I never met the first L, but maybe I can understand him, in a way.” He quoted Melville, "All my means are sane, my motive and my object mad.’ You’re L but you’re not him, and I’m glad for it.”

Near wasn’t sure if he was glad for it or not. So many times over the years he’d compared himself to that avatar and wondered if he could measure up. Drily, “I guess that makes me Ishmael." 

"You survived, didn’t you? Lived to tell the tale and learn what he couldn’t." 

Gevanni turned back to the little ship, carefully threading another string through the rear-most mast. He worked quietly for a while, cognizant of Near’s focused attention and feeling sorry for bringing up the Kira case. It wasn’t often that Near took such an interest in his own projects, or perhaps the man was merely thinking about what he’d said. “Sit down, if you want to. I’m about to get to the exciting part.”

Near pulled a chair closer and slinked into it, one leg pulled tight to his chest and the other dangling off the end. “Which is the exciting part? Stuffing it into the bottle?”

“That’s part of it. The thrilling part for me is raising the masts and sails inside the bottle.” Gevanni pointed to the flat masts and the multiple lines of string leading from them. “If anything goes wrong or a string gets tangled…or some bit of glue doesn’t hold, well–”

“You’re screwed.” Near smiled faintly and rested his chin on his knee. “Hours of planning for one moment of glory. Or disaster.” It also sounded familiar, so familiar.

“Exactly.” Gevanni chuckled and looked over at Near, pleased to see that small, rare smile. That in itself was the product of so much patience, of hours spent in understanding and the slow building of confidence and trust. “Once I get the ship in, would you like to raise the sails?”

Near’s eyes widened and he rocked slightly in the chair. That was Gevanni’s moment of glory and he deserved it after so much time and hard work. The inlaid wood, the meticulous paint, the delicately carved and articulated ship’s wheel capped in brass. The hand-sewn sails and gold script that read Pequod on the ship’s side. Each detail was evidence that someone else had built this and he would only be stealing the best part, swooping in for the end of the trick.

“You built it so you should do it.” It didn’t help that he was worried about making a mistake and ruining it at the last moment. How would it even fit? Despite the masts lying flat, it seemed impossible that the ship would make it inside the bottle. “I don’t know how.”

Gevanni sensed Near’s hesitation and uncertainty, recognizing the subtle tics of anxiety. “I can show you. You’re great at stuff like this.” He motioned to the vast lines and towers of dominos filling the room. “Plus, I trust you.” 

When Near didn’t answer, he turned back to the ship, placing a small line of glue at the bottom and oh-so-carefully maneuvering it into the narrow mouth of the glass bottle and onto the ‘waves’ of translucent blue putty. It was a very tight fit and when it stuck down in the right position, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Not bad, huh?” The strings dangled from the bottle’s mouth as he held it up to show Near. “Offer still stands.”

Near wanted to do it, to try. Honestly, he wanted to ask Gevanni to show him how to build one of his own, how to trump the rigid enclosure and build something impossible inside. To raise it up not by magic but by human ingenuity and patience. A creation not to destroy but to keep.

“Alright.” His fingers moved from his hair to tentatively touch the white strings hanging from the bottle’s mouth. “All of them?”

“Just these.” Gevanni pointed out several lines connected to the three masts. “Don’t yank, just pull slowly until you feel resistance and I’ll tape them up.”

“If it works.”

Gevanni laughed quietly. “It’ll work. Stop stalling.”

Near mumbled, “I’m not stalling,” but stalled a moment more before gently tugging the strings. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat when all three masts raised in unison, perfectly aligned and straight. He smiled as Gevanni secured the strings, then slid off the chair to gaze at the bottle from the side. This floating world, this impossible thing that’s bottled the sea. “I can see why you like these so much.” 

“It passes the time.” Gevanni felt warm inside since it was rare that they connected like this, despite all the time spent in each other’s company. He glued the strings to the ship with a long wire and then cut them, leaving no trace of how it had really been made. Setting it on the bench to dry, he said, “Would you like to have it? I have about a dozen. I mean, if you want it.”

“As a warning against white whales?” Near smirked and climbed back into the chair. He fingered the hem of his specially-ordered Pima cotton pajamas, the exact blend he preferred. “Or for the memory of Ahab?”

“Neither? Or…maybe both.” Gevanni knew that so much had changed for Near when Kira died. Monster or not, that moment of destruction had ultimately felt unsatisfying. He knew Near struggled with assuming the name and reputation of L, a legacy that had become so confused in the mind of a world that would never know two L’s had died and a third now had to make peace with that. It was easier to bottle ships than emotions.

Mildly, “Or maybe just because it’s something we built together.” It was odd, but somehow it would mean a lot to him for Near to have it. “How about it?” 

Near found a loose string at the hem of his pants and yanked it, snapping the thread. He got up and crouched beside the winding, spiraling rows of dominos and pressed a slender finger against the first one. That catalyst set off the reaction, the staccato clack clack clack! that echoed in the high-ceilinged room. It was over in seconds and silence crept in again. 

“I’d like that.”

-End-

[The title comes from a quote in Moby Dick: "A noble craft, but somehow a most melancholy. All noble things are touched with that.” It reminded me of  Gevanni’s rather solitary hobby as well as the occupation of solving cases as L.]

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter Three

Master List / Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Canon divergent during Chapter 13 of The Mandalorian, serious pining

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I’m trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We’ll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

The trip to Nevarro was hell. 

The Razor Crest now smelled like Baast, and after using his soap, their two scents had blended, and Din was going out of his kriffing mind. He'd taken to sleeping in the cockpit, having given up his cot, but it did little good. 

It was like the essence of her had invaded every part of his home.

He'd started having dreams. Dreams of a world with sand dunes and plains of long grass, where towering forests of old wood grew and swayed in gentle, fragrant breezes. He dreamed of walking the rock and sand trails of jagged mountains, of climbing steep cliffs to drink from sweet falls that appeared out of the clouds.

And when he reached his destination, a rocky outcropping high above the world, a cat leapt over the rocks to land before him. She was sleek lines and dense muscle, her coat tawny, darkening to black over her muzzle and legs. Long tufts of fur drifted in the wind from the tips of her ears, and green eyes watched him with a thousand years of ancient wisdom.

He knelt before the regal creature and pulled off his helmet. She padded closer, circled him once, sniffed him curiously, and began to purr. The rumble soothed his soul, and Din closed his eyes as her sleek, furry cheek rubbed against his.

"Mine," he whispered as he reached for her, waking himself from the dream every time.

By the time they landed on Nevarro, he was desperate for air that didn't smell like Baast. A few more parsecs, he may have done something stupid.

He met her at the gangway with a heavy cloak. "Put this on, draw the hood, and try to remain inconspicuous."

She arched a brow before handing over Grogu. The kid stuck to her like glue, eager to be at her side whenever he was awake. It was a relief to know someone else was watching him, but at the same time, he missed the kid's continual company.

Baast shrugged into the cloak and pulled the hood over her hair before laying her hand on his arm. "Are you well?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You have been distant."

"Just busy." He held out a silver bar roughly three inches long. "Extendable staff, at least until the Alor can get you those sabres."

She smiled at him, the light just catching her fangs. "Thank you, Mando."

He tilted his head but tugged the hood farther forward. "Let's go."

They'd landed well after dusk, assuring a quiet, uninterrupted trip through the streets. Those that lingered paid them no mind used to seeing the silver beskar of an unpainted Mandalorian.

The bar was fairing better after the fight with Moff Gideon. Walls had been repaired, and the damage painted over. 

He walked in and headed straight for the back booth, ignoring the eyes that followed. They knew better than to mess with him, and the music stayed lively.

Karga, however, wasn't alone.

"Karga. Dune," he stated, tossing three pucks on the table. 

"Only three, Mando? I sent you out with four," Karga teased. "Did a quarry finally escape the famed Mandalorian?"

"She's dead; body recovery was impossible."

He watched Cara's eyes flick to Baast and down to Grogu, a smile growing as she pushed from the table. "There's the little womp rat!"

Grogu squealed his happiness, but Baast growled.

The low sound set his hair on end, causing Din to step back, between the woman and his clan. "Cara, not now," he said, no explanation, not sure he had one to give. 

Baast placed her hand on the back of his neck, a place without beskar but covered by his cowl. Still, he felt it like a live wire jolt.

"Usenye!" Baast growled.

"Udesii," Din murmured, turning just enough to know he meant Baast.

"Whoa, someone's touchy," Cara muttered.

Mando didn't need this right now. The longer he stayed here, the more twitchy he felt, like something beneath his skin was itching to claw its way free. "Karga. If they ask, you tell them she's dead."

The man stared at him a long moment, assessing, processing before he gave a short nod. "I will log the information myself." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an ingot of beskar. "For your trouble and the three on your ship."

"Where did you get that?" Din asked, picking up the ingot.

"Took it off some Imps after that last clean up." A second pile of credits, smaller than it should be, landed next. "Consider us even."

"Done," he agreed, hyper-aware of Baast's hand still light against his neck.

"And congratulations, Mando. It isn't every day a Mandalorian takes a riduur."

He felt Baast's fingers twitch but didn't correct Karga's assumption.

"You got married!" Cara gasped, loud enough to cause the bar to pause and look their way. 

One long stare over his shoulder had them minding their business again. 

"Baast'mal. Cara Dune, former shock trooper, now Marshal for the New Republic. Greef Karga, head of the Bounty Hunters Guild, and Magistrate of Nevarro."

"A pleasure," Karga grinned. "Is it true wives put off their armour when they decide to have little warriors?"

Baast snorted. "Di'kutla. Anade knows gar ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya."

Din couldn't help but chuckle. "She says, foolish. Everyone knows you train your sons to be strong, but your daughters to be stronger. My woman is all warrior."

The words slipped out, and he couldn't bite them back. Baast's hand dropped from his nape, but only to lower and slide in at his waist, sneak past layers of beskar and again find flesh barely covered. She pressed closer, a low rumble vibrating between them, and Din felt approval wash from her like a wave.

"Ibic taap, Ni cuy' bat Kyr'nakil," she murmured, low enough only Din heard, informing him she didn't like it there.

He looked down at her, into the deep shadows of her hood as she clutched Grogu to her and found her eyes. This place had her on edge. With her Force sensitivity, he believed her, but he wanted to know why. "Tion'jor?"

"Too many bad feelings," she whispered. "There are hunters, many of them."

He gave a small tilt of his head. "Vaabir val olaror par gar?" he asked, wondering if they came for her.

A slight negative shake. "For news of the child."

Din was instantly enraged and leaned over the table toward Karga. "You're taking a bounty on the kid again?"

"What? No! Of course not!" the man cried in outrage.

"Mando." Cara laid her hand over his. "He hasn't, I swear."

Baast growled, causing Din to move his hand out from under Cara’s and block Baast in the same action. "There are hunters here for news of the kid. Get your cargo off my ship so we can leave." He swiped the credits off the table and turned to go, Karga already barking orders.

Din wasn't surprised when Baast's fingers snuck to the crook of his elbow. Or, he wasn't as surprised as he should be. A riduur walked where her mate could protect them and any children they might have. Her position kept her secure against him while hiding them behind a wall of beskar and weapons, handled by a highly dangerous predator.

"Mando, wait," Cara said, blocking their path. "Come to my place. You can rest, eat, and I can see the kid. I missed him."

Baast's fingers twitched. 

"Cara," he hesitated.

"Please. We're friends. Let a friend toast your good fortune."

Another low warning growl rippled from Baast when Cara touched his arm.

"She has nayc staabi!" Baast snarled.

Din looked down at her. "Technically, neither do you."

Her hand snapped off his arm like he'd burned her, shock and disappointment so profound it hurt, hit him like a rampaging mudhorn. 

She took a step in retreat, Grogu clinging to her, the kid looking just as devastated. 

What had he done? Kriff! Why would he say that?

"Baast!" he shouted but was too late as she spun on her heel and raced from the cantina. "Kriff!" he bellowed and gave chase, Cara hot on his heels.

"What the hell was that, Mando?" Dune demanded as they slammed through the doors only to find a deserted street. 

"Not your concern."

"Mando!" She grabbed him by the vambrace. She had no way of knowing how close he came to putting her through the wall. "What's really going on? Who is she?"

"You wouldn't understand. It's a Mandalorian thing." He shook her off and looked for Baast's tracks. 

It didn't surprise him at all when they went up a wall and over the roof.

Din took off after her, climbing as if his armour weighed nothing, leaving Cara behind to curse and swear. He followed long strides for some distance as she ran across roofs, finally leaving the residential district to head into a more industrial area. 

Again her tracks went up, and he followed, climbing the narrow ladder to the top of a tower that looked out over Nevarro. He found her there; knees pulled to her chest, the hood thrown back, clinging to Grogu as the kid did his best to stroke the tears from her face.

"Baast." 

She jerked but didn't move. "Go away, Mandalorian."

"I can't." He went to her and knelt, intent on taking her in his arms, only to have deadly claws close around his throat. 

"You have not the right," she snarled, her eyes piercing him through the beskar.

Grogu huffed and sighed, appearing at once both annoyed and exasperated.

"Nayc staabi. No right, that's what you said about Cara."

Baast snarled. "If you want the shock trooper so badly, have her!" she snapped, pushing him back with strength, causing him to rock on his heels.

"I don't, and she doesn't want me. She would be more inclined to go for you," he chuckled.

She blinked big green eyes. "Oh…" Her hand slowly relaxed until it lay on his chest.

This time when he gathered her close, she didn't resist. "Forgive me. I said something stupid."

"But true," she sighed. "You did not dispute the claim of riduur. I knew it meant nothing but got caught up in my role. You are free to do what you wish with whomever you wish," she sighed.

Din didn't think. He didn't plan his next move. It was like instinct demanded he act, and so he did.

"Baast. Close your eyes."

She did so without hesitation or question as Din stripped off his gloves. The helmet hissed when he released it, causing her brow to twitch. Before he took it off, he wrapped his arm around her and covered her eyes with his hand.

"Din?" she whispered, her uncertainty clear. 

"Trust me," he murmured, lifting his helmet free with his other hand. They were too high up for anyone to see, and the moons had yet to rise, leaving them bathed in shadows. 

Grogu cooed and sat down a few feet away, apparently content to let the adults sort this out on their own.

Din gave him a last look before setting his helmet down and raising that hand to lightly, tenderly, stroke her face. "I don't want just anyone," he whispered, unable to deny what was written in his heart. "Just you," he sighed and lightly brushed their mouths together. 

He'd never kissed anyone before, but he wanted to kiss Baast. 

***

Din woke with a jolt and a clang of beskar as he fell out of the pilot's chair and onto the floor. 

He lay there confused and disoriented until he realized the entire thing had been a dream. 

He groaned softly enough that it didn't leave the safety of his helmet and pushed to his hands and knees before sitting back on his thighs. This trip was going to kill him. The dream had been far too real.

He picked himself off the floor and looked up to find Grogu smirking at him. "Don't start."

The kid gurgled a noise that shouldn't in any way have been cute but somehow still was.

"Hungry?" Din asked.

Grogu waddled closer, arms up.

"Of course you are. When are you not hungry?" he chuckled, picking up the kid and heading for the ladder down into the belly of his ship. 

He was just getting Grogu situated when the door to the fresher opened, revealing Baast in nothing but a towel. 

She jolted in surprise. "I did not expect… you… I…" A bright blush bloomed darkly across her cheeks. Then, she straightened, lifting her chin like a royal, firming her composure. "You have not joined us for meals as of late. I did not expect you and have washed my clothing."

His mouth was desert dry when he attempted to speak, but no words emerged, and Din was grateful for the helmet that hid his gaping mouth. He stared for too long before stepping away from Grogu and his gruel toward Baast. She stiffened, hand flexing where she clutched the cloth closed, but the Zentari didn't back down.

Din moved with cautious steps to the crates piled against the wall and shoved two over before picking up the third and setting it down on top of the others. From within, he pulled out blue silks. "I have this if you want it."

A regal brow arched, her wet hair sleek and sticking to her now brushed the tops of her thighs. "Why does a Mandalorian have a courtesan's dress in his belongings?"

He flinched, having hoped she wouldn't recognize it. "Because an assassin dressed as a courtesan attempted to kill me, but not until after she'd taken her clothes off."

Baast eyed the cloth a moment longer before gliding forward to pluck it from his fingers. "Did she succeed in the seduction?"

"No. That's why she was naked. She made a poor courtesan."

"Hmm," purred from her as she walked back into the fresher, and the door closed behind her. "And you have simply kept it lying around?" she called through the door.

Did she sound jealous, or was he still dreaming? "It's not something a Mandalorian can walk into the market and sell without garnering a second look."

"You were not, perhaps, keeping it for your riduur?"

The door opened, and Din forgot how to speak. Blue silk fell in sleek lines from the golden band that bared the under curve of her breasts. She swept out and headed for Grogu, sailing past him, her damp hair leaving a dark stain on the skirt. 

"I haven't thought much about a riduur." Before now. 

He followed her like a Bantha would a Tuskin Raider, and when she sat to help Grogu with his food, Din came to a stop behind her. 

She looked up, but he knew the beskar made it hard for her to read him. "Is it that terrible? Do I not make a passable courtesan?"

"More than passable," escaped his mouth, his brain still malfunctioning. "But your hair is dripping."

"Wet hair does that," she teased him with a smile.

"May I?"

She blinked as he began to strip off his gloves. "Din?"

"Let me," he murmured, running his fingers like a comb through her thick locks. He sat on a crate and worked free what few tangles had formed before splitting the mass in half. He began the plait high, working it smooth against her scalp and down behind her ear. When his fingers brushed the pointed tip, a shudder raced through her, but a low, happy purr followed. He made it to the end and used a scrap piece of leather to bind the long braid. 

"How is it that a Mandalorian knows how to do a woman's hair with the skill of a maid?"

He froze, fingers full of sand-coloured silk. "My mother," he murmured. "I once did it for my mother."

Her hand closed gently on his knee, Baast reaching back, otherwise staying still for him. "A good memory, I hope."

"One of my only good memories," he murmured, finishing the section close to her skull and swiftly plaiting the rest. Once he tied the end, she turned to look up at him and left him breathless. 

He'd never seen a more mesh'la creature. Men would spend their entire fortune for one night with her. But Din looked at her and saw her dressed in the ornaments of a riduur. Beskar bands for her braids, the cuff that would circle her upper arm and proudly display the mark of the mudhorn, proclaiming her part of his clan. The beskar breastplate that would be hers the moment their first child was born.

"Then, I am pleased to help you remember it." She stroked one of the thick plaits. "I am happy to offer myself to your ministrations in the future, should you so desire to assist me again."

Vital portions of his anatomy tightened, causing him to rise swiftly and step away from her tempting allure. "We'll be in Nevarro soon. I'll see about more suitable clothing when we get there."

He climbed the ladder back to the cockpit, knowing damn well he was running away.

***

riduur -  spouse

Usenye! - Go away!

Udesii - Calm down.

Ibic taap, Ni cuy' bat Kyr'nakil - This place, I am on edge

Tion'jor - why

Vaabir val olaror par gar - do they come for you

 nayc staabi - no right

 ***

Next Chapter

[havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong]

Main Interlude — A Curious Attempt

Watching a tale from afar, in the midst of Carcosa, the Master of Chaldea decided to surprise their friend.

…If only their world wasn’t this… strange.

[Inspired by @hasjalterdoneanythingwrong , @hasmataharidoneanythingwrong (iirc), and others’ Pokémon posting as of late — I wanted to take a shot at this myself and include some neat writing on this topic. Check their works out as well — they’ve got some really neat stuff going on! (I probably missed a few people, but I’m very sleepy and can’t remember jack at the moment, lol)]

—

“Do these things even exist?”

I look in the mirror — fixing my orange hair, breathing a solemn sigh out.

‘Reality’ was already fairly subjective, wasn’t it? As I tried to ignore the buzzing of a fly that desperately wanted to give the flickering light above me a gentle smooch, my mind grew occupied with other things.

“…It’s an interesting pastime. Not to mention, it might do them some good to have something to play around with here.”

That, and a glance out the window told me things were already horrendously off.

The moon hadn’t so much as moved an inch since we landed here — it had to have been hours on end since then, the walk to this apartment itself taking one or two hours. Yet, the faint glow of moonlight still illuminated the outside, and cast a faint light on the bathroom floor where the flickering lightbulb couldn’t reach.

Something wasn’t right here already. As a Singularity, it only made sense — but something really was off.

…Perhaps…

“…It’ll make things a bit better for him, wouldn’t it? He has the others, and me, but… I think something else might be good for him.”

…I looked away from the mirror, and stepped towards the bathroom door. ‘Feeling’ out the mana I did have in reserves, I reckoned I’d have enough for the job.

Even with my mana output, surely creating a Mystic Code wasn’t beyond me.

—

…

…It appears it was beyond me.

The faint light of my desk table warmly illuminated small, spherical object so blatantly not what I had in my mind that it bordered on parody.

It had the bare minimum — a sphere separated into two halves, with a hinge holding the two together — but the latch was utterly broken, unable to keep a grip on the sphere if you so much as rattled it lightly. Even worse, the awkward shades of red and white made its vibes utterly horrendous, as though you left a fishing bob out in the sun for years and gave the whole thing a horrid yellow tint. The warm light, of course, made this atrocity even worse.

“…I didn’t exactly have any apricorns on hand, but… Holy hell.”

I couldn’t even dare look away from it — it was as though I had raised a monstrosity beyond human comprehension, like trying to find a poodle and instead raising a shoggoth. I hadn’t even tried to Mystic-Code-ify the damned thing yet — it still really only was a hastily-carved piece of wood that faintly resembled what an alien might consider a ‘poke ball’ at a passing glance.

…But even so, its appearance didn’t matter as much as if the Mystic Code worked. I could’ve made it into the beautiful visage of a filled mason jar, yet it would still fail if I bungled this next step.

So, the next step was to ‘encode’ this object.

“That which should not happen, yet does regardless -“

…That made sense, didn’t it? ‘Nothingness’ worked best for such an object, that made the impossible possible.

My finger traced its form, one eye closing, the other peering down at the wooden sphere as though trying to see through ‘its soul.’

“…There.”

Like a painter, brushing over an empty canvas, I dug my nail directly into the wood — as it slipped through it, seamlessly, almost akin to a knife into water.

Tracing ‘connections,’ ‘lines,’ ‘circuits,’ all throughout its figure — my eye remained, centred on the sphere, as though even blinking would cost me my life.

To create ‘something,’ that could bind a ‘something’ — a familiar — and even return it to what was a step before ‘nothing,’ swapping this being from ‘nothing’ to ‘something’ at a whim, without even harming the being within.

If it could even function, and work — was beyond me. Crossing one’s fingers, praying for success, was all I could do, tracing these ‘commands’ in the form of lines and connections, now sprawling over the entire sphere in glowing blue ‘cracks.’

In time, the sphere itself seemed as though held together purely from the bonds of its Connections — the ‘commands’ of what it was moved through it, like a ceramic vase broken and put together with enough glue to showcase its cracks. Lifting my nail from it, the cracks faded — turning from blue to a faint yellow, then fading entirely, leaving only the same wooden sphere I was met with.

“…Looks like the only thing left is to try and make it work.”

…I stood from my chair, fighting back a sudden pain in my chest, and lifted up the sphere — turning to the door of my barely-lit hotel room.

All that was left was to try and catch something.

—

…

…Things truly were off, here.

With all my wandering, the only animal I’d seen to date was the crow that ‘Quin’ kept close. Even so, that seemed to me an obvious familiar — something she wouldn’t take kindly to me trying to catch.

By now, I stood at an empty field — not far from the apartments, certainly, as I could still hear its chains rattling — watching the moon that lay just on the horizon, as though watching me right back.

“…Nothing.”

In time, my eyes slipped back down to the wooden sphere I gripped in my hand.

‘A wash, huh?’

…But it’s not as though it made no sense.

Even in a Singularity, the impossible did not suddenly become possible.

The moon may freeze, things may grow strange and scary — but biology, itself, would not bend to the whims of something as weak as a Singularity. Not so easily.

“…But isn’t there something you’re missing, Senpai~?”

…My eyes peered up —

—in front of me, behind me, around me—

—but found nothing.

“…I can’t quite get there now, but I can speak to you. How cute, hm~?”

“…I assume it’s convenient timing you find me aimlessly wandering around a field like a loon.”

A laugh escaped my lips, and I could almost feel BB’s mischievous gaze staring through ne.

“I… think I can help your problem. You want Cadence to have a little animal friend, right~?”

“…Yeah.”

“…Why is that, if I may ask?”

…I breathed out, and had to bite my tongue.

—

“…I don’t think Cadence will live through all of this, Master.”

—

“…I’ve got to make him smile as much as the others. He’s got enough on his plate — I want to help him take it off.”

…It seems she accepted the answer.

“Well, in that case, I have just the solution~! I’ll see if I can’t ‘hack into’ this Singularity and get you exactly what you asked for — since you asked so politely, Senpai~!”

…Even as she said that, something in front of me began to shift — shake, even.

“Didn’t you say you couldn’t come here? How can you do this?!”

“Well, Ritsy, I’ve got to try, right? What could possibly go wrong~!”

…The entire surroundings turned a deep, dark black.

“…That could go wrong!”

“Nonsense! That could, uhm, be a Darkrai! Yeah!”

“—Isn’t that what Cadence would need the least?!”

…A deep red light suddenly engulfed the field in front of me.

“—What the hell?!”

“I tried to make it a Cresselia! I tried!”

“—Are you absolutely sure about that?!”

“It’s something about this place! Everything I’m doing is—“

…Suddenly, her communications ceases.

And I was met with…

“—…—-…”

“..AA—,,,,—AAAUUAAA———AAAHH—-JAA—“

…A piercing, faltering scream.

The kind I could only imagine would come out of a nightmare.

It was this long, red, tetrahedronal thing, that was simultaneously everything and nothing around me. Surrounding me in its endless shade — almost singing, in a voice so cathartic and broken that it shifted between ‘endless pain’ and ‘desperate screaming’ while yet still feeling passionate — enjoyable.

‘Listen.’

My muscles froze.

‘Listen.’

My tongue stopped — calcified.

‘Listen.’

…

Its screaming —

—it became all I could think about.

This being —

—it wouldn’t move. It had me where I could only presume it wanted me, and yet it didn’t move a muscle.

“—AaAaAAaaAaa—“

…

…My calcified muscles —

—I could only move my arm, just that little bit.

Closing my eyes, I gently rolled the wooden sphere across what might’ve been the ground —

—and, after some seconds passed, heard a ‘click’ amongst the screams.

…

A roll—

—Another —

—…

…Another ‘click’ — and I fell to the ground, the pain in my chest feeling unending all at once.

…That sphere… would drain mana. It would drain it every time it were used — and now, just by capturing whatever that was, I found myself sprawled out across the ground of the plains, unable to so much as think about moving.

And that being — whatever BB had created — wasn’t a creature that should exist.

A step beyond even ‘something that shouldn’t exist, and yet does regardless.’

All I could tell, in that short few moments of being held in such a way, was that it were fighting for its right to exist.

Perhaps, in a way, its song was meant to validate itself.

To make it memorable, and ‘confirm’ its existence.

“…It… certainly achieved that.”

…

—

…A writer shifts its brow. A wrench in the schemes — and yet…

[I should have expected/understood as much.]

It only made sense — that beings like these Masters would find beings not unlike themselves.

…

[…It should not interfere. If it does — it could be written out far too easy to fret of.]

The writer, the director, breathes out, and raises a hand to the masked man on their left.

[Prepare yourself. If they attempt to use that… abomination, it will do itself in. Focus on your role.]

…The masked man nodded, and closed a locket on his chest — stepping away, and moving backstage.

—

—

…New Pokémon Discovered.

Adding to registry…

[♀.]

4 h Pokemon

Height: 80’3’’

Weight: 6099 lbs

Normal/Normal

A being that should not exist.

Outside of combat, it manifests as a red tetrahedron, and appears capable of sending other living creatures into and out of a ‘pocket dimension’ not unlike a Reality Marble. It appears this space is pitch black; and unlike in the real world, where it remains mute, it is capable of speaking here. However, it speaks in broken English only.

In combat, ‘reality’ notices the beast, and begins to try ‘writing it out’ of the world. This causes the being immense pain — with its only ability in this instance being to trap an opponent within its pseudo-Reality Marble, and ‘sing’ endlessly to maintain and validate its existence. Due to this, fighting with it is ill-advised.

If it is able to enter combat normally, however, it’s remarkably speedy for its weight, with decent bulk and strength befitting of its large size. It is weak to magical or special skills. Perhaps due to its unique ‘effect’ that comes with its singing, it lacks an Ability. Notably, this Pokémon inflicts extreme mental strain on its Trainer in combat due to the unique nature of its skillset, and as such, extreme precautions must be taken to ‘use’ the being normally —up to and including dedicated battlefields, with bushes in northeast corners, which seem to prevent some of this Pokémon’s more catastrophic effects.

(It appears that this Pokémon is technically a Noble Phantasm of BB, due to her being responsible for its birth. Due to this, it answers only to Cadence, BB, and BB’s closest ones.)

[duskroads]

Angie build update for the Donna cosplay Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Ok so I probably should have updated this some time last week considering how much got done on this last week but I just did not have time til now.

This is probably gonna get long because of that so here’s a readmore

So last week I was visiting my family and it ended up being me and my dad working on this in his workshop for the most part (there’s other parts than just the above picture that didn’t take the whole week).

The picture above is the frame that I built, Dad has a ton of coat hangers that I stole both for this and for the arms and legs. 

The ones he has are this yellowy brassy colour from the drycleaners and I was like, perfect I can just use those they’d work really well colour wise for her joints. But dad pointed out that the colour was just a coating and he was worried that it wouldn’t do well in the oven, one heat test involving a meat thermometer and a very large heat gun he has for lighting his barbeque we found that while it looks fine in the heat, it get soft so it rubs right off afterwards. Cue me sanding a whole lot of coat hangers down.

The main thing that we were working on while I was there was the mechanisms for puppetting the head.

(See when Dad takes a photo he bothers to clear the space before hand lol)

The handle sits inside the bottom of the frame with the aluminum pipe we’ve been calling her spine goes up to just under the head, the fiddly bits beside it slot into the front of the pipe and go up the tube (they’re flipped over so it’s easier to see the moving parts).

The sideways Y shaped thing controls the up down movements of the head with my middle and ring fingers, it’s attached to the thick wire behind it with some springs you can’t see from this angle so the head’s resting position is more neutral. 

The piece above it opens and closes the mouth using the piece of fishing line it’s tied to.

I can turn her head back and froth by just rotating the entire spine.

We also got started on the bits that live inside the head.

Sadly we did not get a chance to finish either the controls or the head pieces before I had to leave, partially because the mechanisms were having more hiccups than we expected, and partially cause we just ran out of time. Dad thinks that the wire he was using is bending inside of the tube which might be what’s causing our issues. He’s going to finish it on his own and mail me the parts when he is done.

This means I can’t work on the head until I get those parts but I can start sculpting the rest of the body.

Before I left I also made hair for her. @cinnacorn taught me how to do this (she learned it from a number of doll repainters but hextian in particular, she says that his custom ursula doll video details it best) 

But you take Yarn, unravel it, put in around something in a larks head knot, brush it with a wire brush to really break it apart (if you’ve got a really heavy duty wire brush you can get away without unraveling it first, but if you’re blending colours it’s easier to space things out better if you unravel it), hit it with a straightening iron, trim off the knot, lay it flat on a silicone mat, put some hot glue at the top, while still hot use the edge of the mat to wipe away the excess glue, when it's dry trim away the excess,

Then do it 80+ times over the course of 6 and a half hours with two people working on it (thank you again Ele) to get enough for your giant doll head.

I’m using a light sage green and a grey brown to get that ‘this maybe was blonde once’ look, where it’s more streaky is going to be layered over so it blends better.

It looks super great and if you used colours that were closer together and actually styled it, it totally would look like a person’s hair. However this is a technique that clearly was meant for smaller doll’s heads, not ones as large as I’m making. As it is I ended up needing a bandaid halfway through cause the wire brush was eating the skin on my thumb from pushing the yarn through.

I also got fabric for both Donna and Angie, some from a shopping trip and some from my mother’s stash. (Some of that lace trim is in a Zellers container, which for those of you who aren’t Canadian, Zellers was a chain that closed in 2013 so that was a fun find)

Mom also has a stash of nail polish she uses as a craft supply. Me: Hey mom do you have any dark purple nail polish I can steal Mom: yeah it’s on the bookshelf in the guest room Me: Oh.

(90% of it is drug store stuff so not as expensive as you would think but still, that’s just the purple)

Mom also gave me a crackle paint that I need to experiment with so that’s going to be exciting.

I got home Sunday night and I spent most of the yesterday wrapping the frame in chicken wire.

I now hate chicken wire.

Today I managed to get two coats of the clay on the front and one on the back (need to do them half at a time cause it doesn’t fit standing up in my oven)

Still a few more layers to go, I need to bulid up her upper torso a bit and her shoulders need a lot more on top of them, I should have put more chicken wire there but I was worried about interfering with the spine. I have a piece of the tube to use as a mock up to make sure I don’t do that, but it’s a lot easier to break away the clay when it doesn’t have the wire in it.

I know her hips go really wide here but most of that’s going to be under her dress and I need that space to put my hand, and also so she can have a wide enough base to sit when I put her down.

I might close up her back a little bit more but the farther I go the less I can turn her head. It’s a trade off cause the fabric’s going to be tight on the body and then have just empty space there so it might be more noticeable if I leave it open. Still thinking on that one.

I’ve also cut to length and bent the coat hangers that will go inside her limbs but haven’t got any clay on them yet. A few of them I can get one loop on right now but the rest are going to have to wait until I’m putting it all together.

I did this by wrapping it around a giant nail that my dad and I found in his workshop that we cut down so I could put it in my suitcase, and then put it into a block of wood so I could clamp it to my table.

Then you use some pliers to bend the longer end of the wire so the circle is more aligned with it then wrap the shorter end around it a few times and trim it. I also filed down the sharp point where I cut it cause I’m worried about them catching on her clothing.

This is all fairly easy to do now, we will see how it is when I’m trying to do it with the rest of the limbs already on the wires.

Anyways that’s where I am for tonight, I have the rest of the week off so hopefully I’ll get most of the sculpting done and maybe (maybe) start sanding and varnishing it as well.

[favefandomimagines]

Soul Surfer 6

AN: SURPRISE BITCHES chapter 6 came early!!! we get some cute Kie/Sarah/Violet action in this as well as some John B/Violet! we stan healthy platonic relationships!!

ALSO: i can’t tag anymore people 😭 i’ve reached the 50 tags limit! if anyone has any suggestions to tag more people, dm me!!

It had been around five days since Violet had spoken to JJ. Kiara made sure that the girl still knew that her, John B and Pope still wanted her around. They weren’t about to give up two friends because JJ was being an idiot.

Kiara knew that Violet was worried that they’d stop hanging out with her because JJ was their best friend. But to Kiara, Violet was also her best friend. In such a short amount of time too.

Violet had been throwing herself into work, all of the orders keeping her mind busy from wandering to JJ. Which it often did most nights and then she resorted to watching true crime shows on Netflix as a distraction.

JJ wasn’t doing any better. He kept trying to get her to talk to him so he could apologize but it was no use. Violet wouldn’t budge. He hated not being able to see her and to talk to her. He had to go back to sleeping at John B’s whenever he was afraid to go home. Of course he was grateful he had a place to go, but he wanted it to be Violet.

Violet hadn’t seen Pope and John B since the night at the Boneyard. She didn’t want them picking sides between her and JJ. It would have made her feel more guilty than she already did.

Kiara and Sarah, however, made sure they stuck by her like glue. Violet couldn’t seem to shake them but she didn’t mind at all.

Violet, Sarah and Kiara were presently at The Wreck having a well needed girls day.

“Okay, okay, Vi. If you had to choose: Harry Styles or Tom Holland?” Sarah asked. “That’s not fair! It’s like asking me to pick a favorite child!” Violet replied. Kiara and Sarah laughed at the girl’s response as she pondered the thought.

“Okay, fine. Harry Styles. Any day of the week.” Violet answered. The three girls sat at their table, falling into mindless conversation about boys and clothes, just happy they were able to spend time together, when the bell on top of the door rang.

Their attention was grabbed by the sound. Violet’s heartbeat sped up rapidly when her eyes landed on the blonde boy.

“Vi, I didn’t know he’d be here.” Kiara said quietly. “It’s fine.” Violet said, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers.

“Hey guys! You didn’t tell us you were hanging out today.” John B greeted the three. “Last time I checked this is girls day. Which you are not.” Kiara sassed back.

Violet refused to look up at her friend as they conversed with each other. She could feel JJ’s eyes on her and it made her skin feel on fire.

It was starting to slowly overwhelm her and she heard JJ utter a few words, she quickly got up from her chair and exited the establishment. Sarah and Kiara looked at each other before JJ followed after her.

“Violet!” He called. Violet didn’t stop walking, not wanting to face him. “Please talk to me.” JJ begged, grabbing her arm gently. “I told you to leave me alone.” Violet said, ripping her arm from his grasp.

She still refused to look at him, knowing that if she did, she’d actually end up listening to his potential apology.

“God, can you at least look at me?” He asked. Violet paused a moment before she finally looked up at him.

Only then did he see how upset she really was. At the Boneyard, the darkness hid her face and he silently wished for that again.

“What do you wanna say, JJ? You’re sorry? Sorry for what you said? You wish you could take it all back? Well you can’t! I trusted you. I didn’t tell anyone about my mom and you decided to use that against me.” Violet snapped. “Violet, I,” JJ started before the brunette scoffed and turned away.

JJ was persistent, however, going after Violet once more in another desperate attempt to get her to listen to him.

“I screwed up! I know that! I was mad at Rafe for what he said and instead of finishing to take it out on him, I took it out on you and I’m sorry!” JJ said.

Violet rolled her eyes and kept ignoring him by the time they approached her house.

“Please, JJ, just stop.” She pleaded quietly. JJ could see the hurt in her eyes. How her once bright, cerulean blue eyes were now a darker shade. He would describe it as how the ocean looked during a storm. And he wanted nothing more than to stop her pain.

Before either of them could continue with the painful conversation, the sound of raised voices alerted them both.

“Vivienne, you need to leave now.” Rob’s voice said. JJ watched as Violet’s eyes widened and the color seemingly drained from her face. “She’s my daughter too, Rob.” A woman said.

The two ‘adults’ walked on to the porch and their conversation ceased when they saw Violet and JJ.

“Violet, honey,” Vivienne started. “No. No, this is not happening.” She muttered. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Violet sneered. “Language, young lady.” Her mother scolded her. “You lost the right to tell me what to do when you gave up your parental rights!” Violet yelled.

“Vi, it’s okay.” Her older brother, Nick, said. Violet looked at her brother in disbelief at the fact that he was defending their mother.

Nick was three years older than Violet, the two being inseparable since Violet was born. That was until their mother took him and left. When Nick was old enough, he reached back out to Violet and their father trying to rebuild that bond they once shared. It worked for the most part though Violet never told Nick where they moved to.

“Both of you shut up.” Violet snapped. She turned around quickly when she realized JJ was still standing close to her. “You were right. Guess I am a sad little rich girl with mommy issues.” She muttered to him before she took off running.

“Violet!” Rob yelled. “Vi!” JJ added. The two males looked at each other momentarily before their gaze returned to Violet’s fleeting figure.

__

“You shouldn’t have come here, Vivienne. You knew what this would do to her.” Rob told his ex wife. “She’s still my child. I have a right.” Vivienne said. “You lost your right when you left! You signed away your parental rights to Violet the second you signed the divorce papers.” Rob yelled.

The room fell in a silence, though that didn’t stop the two teenage boys from eavesdropping on the porch.

“It’s been 10 years. 10 years and I’ve taken care of Violet just fine. We have been just fine.” Rob added.

Back on the porch, JJ and Nick sat on sides from each other. “So, you Violet’s boyfriend?” Nick asked, breaking the silence. “God, I wish.” JJ muttered before quickly correcting himself.

“Uh, no. We’re just friends. Or at least we were before I messed it up.” He added. Nick was quiet for a moment as he moved to lean on the porch railing.

“Take it from me, losing Violet sucks. But, if you beg and plead enough, she’ll let you back in.” He said. “Did you tell your mom Violet and Rob were here?” JJ asked. “God, no. Violet didn’t even tell me. Just because I’m back in her good graces doesn’t mean she tells me everything.” the older boy answered.

JJ thought for a moment until he realized he might know where Violet went.

On one of the many adventures JJ and Violet had together, JJ took her to a secret clearing he once discovered when he was running from his dad.

“Where are you taking me?” Violet asked with a laugh. “You ask too many questions.” JJ answered. “I’ve seen Criminal Minds, is this where you kill me?” She questioned. “No, pretty girl. I couldn’t survive without seeing that face every day.” JJ replied flirtatiously.

Violet rolled her eyes until they came upon a clearing in the woods. There was a small waterfall that went into a small pond below. “Wow, it’s beautiful.” She commented.

“That’s not the only thing.” JJ said, hoping Violet wouldn’t hear him but she did. “I know how you’ve been missing home so I thought this would help.” The blonde said.

Violet looked up at JJ before she wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you.” Violet whispered.

JJ knew Violet wouldn’t want him to be the one to find her, so he sent a text to the rest of the Pogues.

Kie had to work, as did Pope, and Sarah was dealing with her own messed up familial issues. John B was the only one able to go find Violet. JJ trusted him to talk her off whatever edge she found herself on.

The boy wandered through the woods, following JJ’s instructions, though the teenager wasn’t so good at giving directions. He swatted at the numerous bugs getting in his face when he found the clearing.

He saw Violet sitting on a rock, her feet dangling in the water. “Fancy seeing you here.” John B announced.

Violet turned around and saw her distant friend standing a few feet away. “How’d you find me?” She asked. “JJ. He figured you wouldn’t want to see him but he wanted to make sure you were okay.” John B explained, walking towards her.

He sat down on the rock next to her as the two looked at the waterfall for a moment.

“Did he tell you what happened?” Violet asked. “No. He told me some family stuff was going on and wanted someone to check on you. Said it was your story to tell.” He answered.

Violet sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. “He’s really trying, isn't he?” She asked him. “He really likes you, Vi. He’s never fallen this hard before and I don’t think he knows how to handle it. But yeah, he really is trying.” John Be said.

After an hour, John B drove Violet back home. By that point, the sun had set and it was already dark.

Violet sat in the van, staring at her house for a moment. Scared of what she was going to walk into. “It’s now or never.” John B told her. “And I’ll tell JJ you’re okay.” He added.

The girl groaned before getting out of the van. She gave John B a small wave as she slowly walked up the stairs.

“You’re back.” A voice said. Violet jumped and turned in that direction to see her brother sitting on the porch swing. Violet sighed and took a seat next to him.

“That guy was here for a while. At least two hours. We heard mom and dad fighting about you.” Nick said. “He really cares about you.” He added.

“So I’ve been told.” She muttered. “You sticking around?” She asked. “That’s why I’m here. I’m getting emancipated and I needed dad to sign off on the papers and mom followed me here. When I caught on she said it had something to do with getting us back or whatever. She’s crazy.” Nick explained.

“Tell me something I don’t know. So can I count on you to help me get rid of her?” Violet asked. “What are brothers for?” NIck replied.

Violet rested her head on her brother’s shoulder, her brain working a mile a minute.

Tag list: @outerbxmalia @hockeyschmockey @allie-mcginn @prejudic3 @sexualparkour @k-k0129 @iamaunicorn4704 @milamaybank @jj-maybabe @diverrdown @sweetwatermelonsugar @alexa-playafricabytoto @aaleksmorozova @fandom-phaser @princessmugglecup @infinityspaceuniverse @teamnick @lulbabes @frankiebcanon @srirachabi @starxdame @holadrxrry @lopineapples @belledutchess @floridabornandraised @obbx-tings @x-lulu @hopelesswritingxd @prettyboyspence @junkiemuppettxx @shawnssongs @theloxersclub @99sxuxii @jeyramarie @miliefayy @rudths @y0ungandfuckingdumb @xealia @hotel-colson @bubblesam06 @outrbank @thebendslikebendover @wasted-on-5sos @booksandshish @drizzlethatfalls @runway-to-my-aid @never-ever-too-many-fandoms @xlittlemissydjx @strawberryblondies @haharudy @chickencrispers666 @simonsbluee @httpstarkey @kylable

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 26

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 26 - Photograph

From the South Third Ring Road overpass, turn right and cross a small road covered by empress trees to reach Shenjiayuan.

The fragments of low-rise buildings and the chaotic street stalls on both sides of the street were standoffish in such a modern city. However, this was one of the country's famous antique marketplaces, and tens of thousands of people came here every day with lots of money to spend, risking being baked by the sun and getting heatstroke by lingering around each of the stalls, hoping to find one or two hidden treasures stashed away in a corner somewhere. It was an industry gaining some traction. There were many speculators, collectors, tourists, calligraphers, painters, and even gamblers among them. They firmly believe that a city thousands of years old hid unknown wealth somewhere. It was this mentality that gave them a similar look; intoxicated and wild-eyed with a long outstretched tongue, drooling over the crude high antique imitations on the stalls.

This was the place where Lin Yan made countless memories when he was a teenager. The middle school he went to was nearby. After school, he often came here alone with his schoolbag on his back. Back then, there weren't as many people. There was a very polluted river nearby that hadn't been turned into a landfill yet. The air was always filled with the smell of stinky salted fish. The vendors who set up stalls hadn't yet learned to casually laze about while sneaking glances at the faces of customers to judge how much money they could cheat out of them.

The old days were like rolls of yellowed newspapers. A young man in a light blue school uniform walked through it, exchanging his pocket money for a piece of colored glaze from the late Qing Dynasty. He squatted in front of a stall to sift through the options. The old man at the stall was smoking a cigarette while telling the story of Liulichang in the late Qing Dynasty. Lin Yan didn't know why he was only interested in street stalls when kids his age were saving up to buy posters of celebrities. Just like when they were gushing over the Belgian chocolates their relatives brought home, he was still obsessed for years with the pot full of honey hard candy the old lady in front of the school had.

The wood, rice paper, and the dusty rusticity of the old objects held a taste of time, and teenage Lin Yan couldn't help but be immersed in it. Like a lone fish in the stream.

The sun was shining on the ground at 3 o'clock that afternoon. Lin Yan carried a bulging bag in his left hand and a cup of roasted sencha milk tea in his right. He paced slowly in the crowd, the grass green V-neck T-shirt and cotton calf-length pants standing out. He didn't know why antique hunters liked to wear black, the dust on their clothes making them look like they had just crawled out of the ground.

"Here, it's weirdly hot. Do you want a sip?" Lin Yan shook the milk tea, the ice cube hitting the wall of the cup with a soft thud. Onlookers thought he was talking to the air when actually there was an invisible person next to him helping take off some of the weight of the bag. That mean, even though Lin Yan was carrying a lot of things, it didn't take much effort.

Xiao Yu lowered his head and took a sip where Lin Yan had touched. He bit on the straw a few times and turned his head.

Lin Yan wanted to laugh a little, and brought the cup back to the corner of his mouth.

A-Yan said that Xiao Yu might remember more following him around, so Lin Yan took him to the antique market after breakfast, hoping that something from his own time period might bring something back. Who would've guessed that, after going through all these stalls, lots of purchases were made but there was no progress with the ghost's memory. Lin Yan glanced at the bag in his hand. It was stuffed with clothes bought from a well-known Hanfu store in Shenjiayuan. They were well-made and expensive. Most people only bought them to complete a Hanfu set for their collection. For Lin Yan to buy these kinds of clothes on a daily errand, that was really a rare sight. Even the clerk couldn't help but do a double take.

Xiao Yu didn't understand the time they were currently living in, so he stood his ground and refused to adapt his style to the times. Lin Yan rolled his eyes and glared at him bitterly. He thought, you're the boss here making me throw away my money while I'm just your servant who follows behind you and pays.

Right after they left one store, before he could recover from the purchase, Xiao Yu suddenly stopped when he passed a woodworking shop. Lin Yan looked at the store’s gorgeous decorations and pieces of pearwood and red sandalwood furniture, whining that he really couldn't afford this stuff. Xiao Yu ignored him and dragged him inside. Thirty minutes later, Lin Yan swiped his card to check out under the watchful eye of the clerk and bought a beautiful Tongzhi wood guqin.

"Oh great ancestor, what more do you want?" Lin Yan tucked the order slip from the woodworking shop into his pocket and glared daggers at Xiao Yu.

Xiao Yu shook his head nonchalantly.

There were more people on the street. Some of them didn't know the treasures that they had found, and they couldn't hide their excitement, sneaking a peek at what they have just bought. Some of them had grim faces, looking like they had been ripped off. There were also groups of foreign tourists wearing Lei Feng hats gathered at the roadside to buy shadow puppets. Occasionally, they turned around and curiously look at the antique city, which was built in the traditional Chinese-style.

In the market area to the south, there were large ancient buildings imitating Ming and Qing style architecture. The bustling narrow street seemed like scene straight out of the Water Margin. The wooden window on the second floor were pushed up, supported by a short stick. Looking up, he could see customers sipping tea. The shopkeeper was a short man, busily carrying a large teapot back and forth.

The narrow street lead to a large emerald-green stall covered with plastic tarps to offer shade from the sun. Lin Yan and Xiao Yu walked under the shadow of the tarps when they heard a familiar voice yelling loudly.

"Look at how green the colour is and how good the water head* is! You won't be able to find another one at this price anywhere in Shenjiayuan!" The peddler selling jade pieces had a round belly, one foot on the stool, holding up a transparent fortune bracelet, spittle flying everywhere. The plainly dressed middle-aged woman in front of the stall looked hesitant. She took the bracelet and took another look at it.

*(T/N: Water head [水头] refers to how light shines through jade. Kind of like how the light would look if it were shining through water. There's a list of transparencies if you want to look at how jade is graded, but basically the best jade has a vivid colour with even transparency across the whole piece.)

"It's too expensive, lower the price a bit." The woman said sincerely.

"It's so green, so transparent, I can't go any lower. Miss, if you want a lower price, it'll affect my livelihood. Don't waste my time." The peddler grabbed the bracelet, his eyes bulging.

"I wanted to buy it for my daughter as a birthday gift. It's too expensive. It'd be a pity if she dropped it. Give me the lowest you can go."

"Here." The peddler rolled his eyes. He took out his calculator, punched in a few numbers, and showed it to the woman in front of him, "Is this all right? I can't go any lower!"

Lin Yan couldn't help but lean over and glance at the numbers on the screen. He let out a laugh.

The peddler squinted at him.

Lin Yan shook his head. He took the bracelet and said to the woman: "Don't buy this, he's fooling you."

"Hey, hey, what are you trying to say? I'm running an honest business here. If you don't believe me, go around and ask. . ."

Lin Yan smirked. He put the roasted sencha tea cup on the stall and held the bracelet at a different angle. The curved surface reflected the light from the plastic roof. He said to the woman buying the bracelet: "Look at the blurred edges of the reflection. If you look closely, you can see that there are very fine meshes on the surface." Lin Yan raised the bracelet to let the light through. "There is purple fluorescence inside, indicating that the reason this bracelet is so transparent because of acid washing and a glue filling."

"Also, notice how the green is only sitting on the surface and doesn't reach the middle. That means it was dyed after the fact. This thing is worth one or two hundred yuan. Don't buy it."

The peddler's nose and eyes scrunched up. At first glance, they looked like a dried walnut.

"Oh." The middle-aged woman hurriedly stuffed an envelope containing the money back into her bag, repeatedly thanking Lin Yan.

When she left, the peddler huffed. Pissed, he turned his head away, not looking at Lin Yan. Even his swollen belly seemed to be flatter than before.

"What else should I do when I notice that someone with money on the street?"

Lin Yan roughly flicked the peddler's forehead: "Everyone here has money. It's embarrassing to lie like this, there's no skill in it."

Several surrounding stalls burst out laughing. The peddler rolled his eyes back to normal. He grabbed Lin Yan’s milk tea and poured a few mouthfuls out of the plastic lid. He muttered while he crunched on the ice cubes: “I don't fool people in this business. It's not my fault their eyesight is poor. No refunds is the standard."

This much was true. Antique jade sales rely on good eyesight. Figuring out which store has more genuine products than fake depends on the customer. They can't return them either so the shop doesn't have to admit they were fakes. Lin Yan clicked his tongue: "These people don't know what to look for. You're just trying to make your father think you're good at this job."

The peddler rolled his eyes, knowing that he was in a bad position and couldn't say anything.

Lin Yan had been a frequent visitor to this antique market since he was a child. Since choosing his major in university, he preferred to come to the small stalls to practice his appraisal skills when he had nothing else to do. See what was selling for a high price but was bought for a low price. He was also kind and helped others pick out the best items, so many peddlers knew him. For example, Lin Yan first met this guy's father, a very honest old man. He even took out the receipt with the price he paid for it when he bargained with customers. Unfortunately, when Lin Yan graduated from high school, the old man fell ill and his son took over the business. and this was the leeching peddler in from of him.

Lin Yan wasn't polite with him. When he walked around the stall, he took out a copper box from under the table. Inside were piles of Ming and Qing paperweights. These objects were all family heirlooms that the original stall owner received from nearby residents’ homes when he was young. Lin Yan had just remembered this box of objects then dragged Xiao Yu over to look at them. Brass mirrors, jade bracelets, thumb rings, snuff boxes, tobacco pipes; Xiao Yu looked over them all and just shook his head. Lin Yan threw the last piece back into the box and patted the dust on his clothes, a little frustrated.

"That box has been there for ages and no one's ever touched it. What are you looking at it for?" The peddler kept squinting at him and was too curious not to ask about it.

"Looking for Ming Dynasty artifacts for my classes." Lin Yan actually didn't know what he was looking for. He moved on and put the box back.

"Ming Dynasty?" The peddler didn't care about the bracelet anymore. "Old man Liu has lots stashed away."

"No, no, no. . ." Lin Yan hurriedly refused, but he thought about it and sighed, "Forget it. I've been shopping all day and haven't gone there. I'll give it a try."

"Don't say the wrong thing. Good luck." The peddler made a face.

The shop run by old man Liu was quite famous in Shenjiayuan. Not just because he was the only antique peddler to sell only sell antique pictures, but also because he was notoriously grumpy. Every day, he'd leave the shop and hang up his old camera in the park to make money. Whenever he went to the shop to buy something, the owner was never there. Walking down the street, he ran into him wearing an old Mao suit, cursing and waving around. His thin mantis-like face was slanted and a pair of glasses rested on his nose at an angle. Sometimes the lens' were shattered like cobwebs, and sometimes the lens' weren't there at all.

His shop sells old photographs of the old city, hung densely from the floor to the ceiling. Because old photographs were difficult to reprint, they were also very expensive. The sub districts of Qianmen, Dashilan, old gardens in the setting sun in 1872, passers-by in long gowns with thin faces and numb eyes. The TV station came to interview him, but only half the program was filmed. From photographers to reporters, old man Liu chewed them all out without exception. The interview never went anywhere, and the shop still didn't have any business. The old man still walked around outside with his camera everyday.

The shop was in the northwest corner of Shenjiayuan and its location was considered unlucky. There was a symbol meant to ward off evil spirits designed by a famous Feng Shui master hung on the door. Xiao Yu couldn't enter and stood at the door waiting for Lin Yan.

Lin Yan looked at the ominous storefront. For the first time, he felt reluctant to part with Xiao Yu.

Unsurprisingly, Old Man Liu wasn't in the shop. A seven or eight-year-old girl in a red jacket was facing away from him. She was pointing at a photo on the wall and muttering something. When she heard someone enter the door, she turned back and grinned at Lin Yan.

Lin Yan was a little surprised. This little girl was his neighbor. Although he didn’t know where she lived, he often saw her running around in the yard downstairs in a dirty red dress. Sometimes when Lin Yan went out to buy dinner at night, he saw her playing with cats in the yard, no one coming to bring her home. He hadn't seen her often in the past month and he didn't expect to see her here.

Was it possible she was related to that strange old man? No wonder no one cared about her playing outside everyday, Lin Yan thought.

"Why are you here by yourself?" Lin Yan knelt down and asked her in a soft voice.

The little girl was lean, her eyes staring straight at Lin Yan, grinning silently. Lin Yan suddenly felt that the little girl’s smile probably made people feel uncomfortable. It didn’t seem right to call it a smile, but just a casual grin. The corners of her mouth were upturned but her eyes were dull. Wearing such an old jacket in summer, she seemed to be left behind by the times, like the rest of the photos in the room.

Lin Yan hesitated on whether he leave and wait outside for the strange old man.

"What the hell you XX, I XXXX. . ." Lin Yan was distracted, and suddenly there was a thud. Old man Liu hugging his broken camera fell through the front door. He fell on all fours in an extremely embarrassed posture, landing on the only part of the floor that had sunlight hitting it.

"A-Are you okay?" Lin Yan rushed over to help. Unexpectedly, the old man gave him a sour look. He rolled over and sat on the ground, patting the dirt on his knees, and continued his tirade of curses towards the door relentlessly. Lin Yan stood awkwardly off to the side, neither leaving nor staying.

The old man felt he had cursed enough. He grunted and got to his feet. When he turned his head and saw Lin Yan, his eyes widened like he had discovered a whole new world, and said with a quacking voice: "What are you doing here?"

"I came to buy something." Lin Yan didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Shouldn't that be the first thing the shop owner thinks of when he sees a customer in the store?

"Leave. What is there to buy? Young people are clueless." The old man held his stern gaze and walked around behind the counter, irritated: "Why are you still standing there? You have no business being here!"

Lin Yan didn't want to talk nonsense with the old man, so he pat his back and turned to leave.

"Hey! Wait!" The old man yelled. Lin Yan had just reached the door and was so frightened by the voice that he came to a halt.

"You look good, I'll take a picture of you." The old man suddenly walked out from behind the counter with his camera in hand. He grabbed Lin Yan by the collar and pulled him into the room. After couple of pushes, he stood beside the little girl. He squatted down involuntarily, and the shutter sounded with a few clicks. The old man's furrowed face appeared from behind the camera and he smacked his lips with satisfaction.

After the shutter, several photos appeared from the top of the camera. The old man took one in his hand and glanced at it. He pulled one out and shoved it at Lin Yan: "You take it."

Lin Yan was shown the strength of this old man. He turned his face angrily, trying to walk out, rubbing his shoulder: "I don't want to."

"Take it!" The old man yelled in Lin Yan's ear, making his ears ring.

Lin Yan took it and glanced speechlessly. He saw that in the black-and-white picture he stood like a wooden pole, staring expressionlessly at the wall. The background was dimmed, and the entire thing looked like a horror picture people would share online.

What's wrong with. . .

Lin Yan eyes widened and a nerve in his head popped. He couldn't help taking a step back, looking at himself in the photo. When he looked at the spot where he was standing when the picture was taken, it felt like a bucket of ice water was poured over his head.

The little girl who took the picture with him just now wasn't in the photo. He was the only person in the black and white background straight out of a horror movie.

Lin Yan hesitantly looked up. The girl in red was standing where he stood, wearing an out-of-date ragged jacket, grinning at him biting her fingernail.

"Hehe, hehe." The old man held up the camera to his crooked eyes and a piece of the lens fell to the ground. "Perfect, great picture."

Lin Yan crawled out of the house.

The sun was bitterly hot and the bustling street was swarming with people. Xiao Yu was standing casually by the doorway. Lin Yan couldn't say a word, swallowing hard. He rushed over and wrapped him up in a fierce hug.

[kyidyl]

Kyidyl Explains Bones Part 5

(These are under the KyidylBones tag.)

How to dig up dead people.

So, in my Kyidyl Does Archaeology series I talked a bunch about how digging up places was different than digging up people.  And you don’t have to read that to understand this, but it might be a little easier for you because I’m not going to re-address the same basics I covered there.  

Ethical Stuff: So is digging up dead people ethical? I mean, I think so if strict rules are followed, but honestly the POVs here are as different as people themselves are.  Some cultures routinely dig up their own dead and do all kinds of things with the remains.  I wish they wouldn’t but, hey, that’s just me.  I respect that their culture and choices aren’t the ones I’d make.  It’s part of being an anthropologist of any flavor.  And, like that one post implies, there really isn’t much of a different between grave robbing and archaeology.  The biggest difference is the care we take, the respect we try our best to show, and the purposes to which we put the remains.  However, there is a difference between exhumation and archaeology.  General rule of thumb: if there’s someone living still that would have first-hand experience of them or if they still exist strongly in cultural memory, it’s exhumation. There’s no hard and fast number of years where it moves from exhumation to archaeology.  Sometimes it’s the context that makes the difference.  For example, Richard the 3rd’s bones were excavated from that carpark.  If they were removed from where they were reinterred, then they’d be exhumed.  But the TL;DR of it is that digging up people is incredibly ethically complex and you have to do your best to be respectful.  If you aren’t the type of person who can really put yourself in someone else’s shoes and be ok with respecting the desires of a specific culture regarding their own dead...then archaeology is not the right area for you, and that goes double for bioarch.  These people had lives and were loved and valued by those around them, and you need to be sensitive.  

The legality of digging up human remains also varies wildly from country to country.  In the US, we adhere to NAGPRA.  If you want a primer on what NAGPRA is and how it works, you can check out this post that I made.  

Also a quick reminder that we don’t name the individuals.  They had names and you don’t get to give them a new one.  

Beyond this cut there be pictures of human remains.  

How do you know where to dig? Sometimes, honestly....we don’t.  We’re just making educated guesses based on migration patterns and known settlements and research into local history.  Generally, if there’s a group of people who lived somewhere, they also did something with their dead.  So if you have a settlement, you’ll probably find bodies in it or near it at some point.  Sometimes people find remains and are like “uuuuuhhhhh....” and we come and dig ‘em up.  This is especially true on private property.  Farmers are notorious for this.  Construction, too, obviously.  Sometimes we look in caves, because very old caves have lots of dirt on the floors and a lot of times if it’s a good cave there’ll be bones in it.  Sometimes people threw their dead in bogs and now we have stuff that isn’t skeletons but is really old.  

(Source)

That is a whole ass human dude.  He’s around 2000 years old.  You can still see his facial hair.  

So there’s a lot of science behind how and why different environments preserve bodies differently, and I couldn’t possibly get into the detail of that here, but it’s definitely a factor we consider.  A swamp in Florida isn’t a good place to expect to find remains, you know? General rule of thumb is: more water = less body, unless there water isn’t standard water (it’s very alkaline, very acidic, or very frozen.).  Dry, cold landscapes like the Andes are great for preserving bodies.  

So what you find when you go looking is going to vary wildly depending on the environment.  My personal experience, though, is in graveyards.  Graveyards are an easy thing to dig because it’s not uncommon to just like...know where one was.  But graveyards aren’t the orderly things you’d expect them to be, not even modern graveyards.  People bury their loved ones on top of other people, graves intersect, and sometimes people would sneak bodies into the consecrated part of the graveyard when the priests/monks/etc. said they couldn’t be buried there.  So you can have bodies mixed with other bodies or under other bodies or just like random parts of people that were dug up, someone said “oops”, and then they were re-buried in a different spot.  So when we dig a graveyard, we keep complex records of where all of the remains were found, including in-depth drawings.  This is one way in which it’s similar to digging up a settlement.  It’s...pretty much the only way in which it’s similar.  Because part of the reason we do this is so we don’t mix up peoples’ body parts.  Graveyards aren’t what you expect - when I was digging in one we thought we’d gotten most of the bodies out so we were using a mattock to make sure and the site director missed cracking the skull of an intact child by about a centimeter.  Luckily the swing tore up a little bit of dirt and exposed it, but if it hadn’t? The next swing would have gone right through and inflicted heavy damage.  So you have to be careful even in a graveyard.  

Another thing about graves is that it doesn’t take long for the wood of a coffin to decay, so when you dig them up you will often just find the body and sometimes some nails.  The nails are good, because they show you the outline of where you can expect to find parts of the same individual.  This is one of the ways we show respect - we do everything in our power to NOT mix up the remains of different individuals and to separate them when we can.  

Let me sidebar here for a minute to explain.  See, your bones fit together.  I don’t meant “ah yes, everyone’s shin bone connects to their thigh bone”.  No, I mean that those bones have grown together in the same space for YEARS and they fit exactly.  They have the same texture and thickness, they go together like puzzle pieces....at the spots where the bones touch.  Or, as we say, articulate with each other.  See, if I were to take, say, my cuboid and try to trade it with someone else’s, it wouldn’t articulate right.  But something big like a tibia and femur will not be as easy to piece back together.  That, and we don’t always have complete bodies.  So we have something called “MNI” meaning “Minimum Number of Individuals”, and the maximum.  So...three left femurs mean at least three people.  Four right humeruses mean at least four people, so the minimum is 4.  However! We don’t know if any of those left femurs or right humeruses belonged to the same person because they don’t articulate with each other.  So the maximum is seven people.  We have between 4 and 7 people in that set of remains.  This becomes really important when you’re dealing with intersecting graves, mass graves, etc.  Any time the remains are what we call comingled (mixed).  This is what we’re really meticulous when recording where we found a given bone or set of bones.  

Ok, back to the main thing.  So...how DO we dig up dead people, anyway? It’s generally done in three stages: 

Exposing - This is where we dig down just enough to cleanly expose what we believe to be the margins of the grave.  We dig to the edges of the grave, not to a set square size like you would with a settlement. This is where we dig really cleanly, expose any grave goods, take pictures, etc.  And it looks like this: 

(Source.  Was super frustrating searching for this bc I have several of these pics on my phone of the graves we dug and can’t use them for privacy/ethical reasons.) 

Pedestaling/Cleaning - This is when we dig down around the skeleton and the grave goods, and then we start digging under the bones in preparation for the last stage.  This is time consuming, detailed work.  When I was doing this with the child we found, I used a mini trowel the size of my thumbnail and a dental pick.  It’s *especially* important with juveniles because their bones aren’t fused and those unfused pieces are *tiny*.  They literally look like clods of dirt.  Most archs - rightfully - can’t stomach the idea of throwing pieces of a human body into the spoil heap, so we’re as careful as we can be.  This part, when done right, takes days.  It’s a difficult thing to get a picture of, but this one is close: 

(Source)

The tags aren’t something I was taught needed to be done, but I can see why someone would.  They’re basically just grave goods and features of the grave.  They’ll be used to make a map of what’s what later on when the writeup is being done.  

Lifting - We never just pull a bone out of the ground because it damages them.  So we dig around them until they’re ready to come out on their own (and in the case of a large set of broken bones like you see above in that person’s skull, we’d just take the whole pile - dirt and all - for processing in the lab later.  And no, it’s not normal to have the skull glued back together.  We don’t glue remains together.).  If one piece comes out before the others, it is bagged and tagged.  We try not to have them come out separately, but it’s better to do that then to lose one.  When we’ve cleared all the dirt out, we “lift” the skeleton, IE, remove it from the grave.  If I included a pic of this it would just be an empty grave. :P 

We make sure to take all of the grave goods and any soil samples with us, all carefully labeled.  Fun fact about soil samples BTW.  The soil around the bones and especially in the abdominal cavity can retain molecular traces and bacterial from the flesh that tell us about their gut flora and diet or about any parasites they had (parasites were super common back in the day.).  It’s....really cool.  So a sometimes, if we suspect that there might be money for that kind of analysis, we’ll take soil samples of the gut region.  

We are...well, we’re very ritualistic about all of this.  It is, of course, for scientific rigour.  But part of it is that we’re systematically dismantling these peoples’ final resting places.  They had lives and loves and spiritual beliefs that we are disturbing.  This is sacred ground for so many cultures.  So it always feels a bit like we’re doing these things in a specific way to show respect to the resting dead.  That’s why in my 4 types of anthropologists post awhile back I said that archs are chaotic outside the pit but anal inside it. We want to learn from the dead, and it all feels a bit ritualistic if I’m being honest.  And there’s this juxtaposition of digging in the dirt, in the chaos of earth and time, in a very structured, clean, orderly way.  

Aaaannnyway I think that’s it for this installment.  Ask box is open, I check comments and tags and whatnot.  Tomorrow I think I’m gonna do age determination.  How old were they when they died? Hmmmmm... 

[bittybattybunny]

Day 13!!! Fairytale!!!

Today i went for a storybook style since instead of a fairy tale au instead the two are discussing Fairy tales and why a certain wolf doesn’t seem to ‘fall’ for the Prince like in the books and she points out she’s a wolf not a princess

Plus a Bonus doodle from post discussion

Ficletttt timeeeee it’s a lil long sooo read more

“Hrm.” the ghost frowned as he set the book back on the shelf.

“Something bothering you?” Eclipse tilted her head as she leaned around the shelf startling him.

He gasped with her sudden appearance and gripped his chest with a heavy sigh, “Don’t do that! I could have… well no but. Don’t spook me.”

She giggled as she hopped down from the ledge and looked at the book he put back, “Ah!” she lit up with excitement, “Fairy tales!”

He turned a light yellow, “yeah. I was reading to the minions again.” he rubbed his ‘neck’ with a huff, “Just was thinking about some things while I did.”

“Oh?” she flipped through it with a small smile, fangs peeking from her lips.

He stared at her and shook his head as he felt himself almost shift to human form as he stared. He chuckled, “yeha just. Um. Prince has been rather… confused lately. So I thought fairy tales may have answers because they often have a Prince.” he scowled, “and just. You know a Prince with a prince problem and all that.. Stupid stuff.”

“Fiction and reality rarely correlate like that.” she pointed out as she looked up from the book, “What’s wrong, if you can talk about it? He doesn’t talk to me much about things he’s worried about, just gives me flowery words and is s-u-p-e-r touchy.” she laughed. She paused in thought, “Well no we do talk sometimes but. Most of the time he’s just trying so hard to be that stereotypical prince…”

He turned yellow and looked away, “To be honest… it’s you.” he mumbled.

She frowned and pointed to herself, “me? What’s the matter? How should I change? Did I make him upset?” she sighed, “sorry.”

“N-No you shouldn’t change! You’re… adequate as you are. Best assistant I’ve ever had. You didn’t make HIM upset. Far from it.. Just. Confusion.” he huffed, “Just. I guess he’s so confused about the fact you don’t fall for those words. Or the whole… Prince thing.” 

The ghost sighed as he thought about it, “In books and his past, normally people just.. Fell for the prince for being a prince. With his flowery poems and kindness. He likes you. A lot. And last time he was with someone she loved the Prince thing...”

“And look where that got them...I told him when we met I like someone else.” she hummed as she went back to the book and sat on the wall as she did. She brushed her hair from her face as she read the worn pages, “I’m not going to simply fall for someone else when I’ve liked the same person for a few years. Prince or not. I’m not a princess.” she gave him a small smirk but he was looking away.

She sighed and laid back on the stone, holding the book to her chest, “If he thinks a fairy tale is what I’m after he’s wrong.” she waved a hand, “I don’t care about that. I CAN’T care about that.”

“Y-You don’t?” he frowned slithering over to stand above her, “Then what is it you care about….ah…” he turned yellow as she reached up,  rubbing her hands over his ‘cheeks’ with a soft smile. He smiled back and put his hands over hers.

“I just like who I like for who he is and the time we’ve spent. That’s all. Nothing fancy. No flowery words, no false pretenses. Just a little snarky, a little mean, a lot kind.” she snickered before gasping as she was scooped up. 

“Snatcher!” she laughed as she was held in his arms and he picked the book up and sat in her spot.

She gave a heavy sigh as she leaned against him, “Besides…”

“Besides?” he repeated.

“I’m not a princess like the books.” she pointed out, “In fairy tales. The prince always falls for a princess…”

“Ah… Not always. Sometimes she came from a poorer birth but…” he ran over the fairy tales he knew by heart, “Ah…”

“Exactly. I’m not a princess, I’m far from it.” she played with a curl of his fur.

“I could argue but I won’t.” he teased making her chuckle.

“I’m a wolf Snatcher. I’m not a princess. So you can tell Prince that. I… I am as far from a princess as he’ll ever get…” she gripped at her scarf with a sad smile, “So a fairy tale… it’s not possible… the wolf always loses. So if he thinks I want a fairy tale. He’s dead wrong. I don’t.. I’d love to be a princess but I will never be. I’m the wolf with claws and fangs. Who dances with the dead.”

He frowned and shifted, nuzzling her face, “You’re talking to an undead law school drop out who eats souls. I don’t think that’s an issue he’s got.”

“Indeed!” she gave a smile as she rested in his fur, “I don’t want a fairy tale and I won’t fall for a prince just because of his title. Titles don’t mean much to me.” she teased looking at him as he turned yellow, “And know I’m the big bad wolf of Subcon Woods.” she bared her fangs making him laugh loudly. 

“Eclipse. Thank you.” he smiled softly and nuzzled against her, “I’ll… let prince know if that’s fine. I’m sure that will help his confusion.” he chuckled, “A big idiotic, kind-hearted wolf.”

She watched his face glow and felt her cheeks go warm. She laid against him with a small smile, eyes drifting to the fairy tale book. She gripped at her scarf, “Anytime…”

-------

“SNATCHER!” Hat laughed as the ghost jumped in his chair. 

He gave a sharp scowl, “What?”

“What’s up with Eclipse?” She crawled on the arm, tumbling into his lap as he caught her.

“Ah… I don’t know. Why? What’s she doing?” He looked at her worried.

“She just seems… down? Like she’s smiling but…” hat frowned, “Did you do something weird as ‘Prince’ again?” she narrowed her eyes.

“I didn’t. I haven’t even taken my human look today.” he leaned on his arm and gasped, “ah… our conversation earlier… I wonder if it...upset her….”

“What did you do.” Hat sneered as he sighed.

“We were talking about… Fairy tales and princes and stuff…”

“Wow. Subtle.” She snickered as he shoved against her face.

“Keep it up I have more death wishes if you want brat.”

“Bring it old man!” she cackled and wrapped her arms around his hand, “So why’d she get sad?”

He lifted the kid up as he thought about it. Running over her words he gasped, “She’s being negative again! Dammit I didn’t catch her this time!” he fumed, “She hid it so well with the conversation and I was so wrapped up in myself!”

“Shocker.” Hat kid frowned, “So what happened?”

“Well i was… to be blunt reading fairy tale books to see if I was doing something wrong making her fall for Prince instead of…” he gestured at himself.

“Riiiighhhtt. You could just. Tell her the truth.” She leaned on her hands as she laid on his head.

“That defeats the purpose of this...act…” he turned light yellow, “She SHOULDN’T love a dead soul stealer…”

“You realize you’re still a dead soul stealer even as prince right?” She pointed out.

“That’s not important, she doesn’t know that!” he argued, “But point is we were talking and she.. Got hung up on she’s not a princess… She’s a wolf. And the wolf always loses…” he recalled her phrasing with a scowl.

“She could be a wolf princess. I watched a movie like that! She was wicked strong and pretty! Like Eclipse!” Hat beamed, “I have an idea! I need scissors, glue, paper, glitter and crayons!”

He moved her down as he slithered to get her craft supplies from the shelf, “I’ll do the scissor work kiddo. I don’t need you bleeding in my house.”

“Righhhttt says the guy who keeps killing me.” She rolled her eyes as she went to sit at the table and began her master plan.

“What are you doing?” He watched as she colored and slathered glitter down, “Ah!” He saw the shape and gave a small smirk.

“You’ll need to take your prince noodle form. I think it’ll work.” She grinned handing it to him, “Cut please!”

“Alright.” he shifted down as he held the scissors humming as he cut the crown out and taped it in a circle, “Good work. Looks decent. Sloppy but you’re what 6?”

“I’m 8 but go on.” She snickered as she raised her arms, “Carry me! I wanna help give her it!”

He chuckled, “Fine only because you made it. Where did you see her last?”

“Putting up spider lures in the west area.” She snickered as he flew out of the treehouse.

It didn’t take long for them to find Eclipse as she stood high up on the nearly invisible branches, the gentle chiming noise heard with each step.

“Eclipse!” Hat kid shouted up causing her to look down. She waved and jumped, landing in front of them.

“Hey Kiddo! Prince.” She nodded to the man who gave a soft smile, “What’s up?” she clapped some dust off her gloves.

“We made you something!” Hat grinned, “Snatcher helped us!”

“Oh?” she looked between them confused as the man set the paper crown on her head. She turned bright red, “W-what are you D-Doing?!” She gasped as he kissed her cheek.

“Sometimes. Fairy tales can be rewritten.” he admitted, “And the wolf can be the princess.”

She felt her whole face grow hot as she stammered, unable to get any words out.

Snatcher grinned, it was the first time he was able to get that sort of reaction from her while he was Prince. He set the little girl down to catch Eclipse as she started to trip backwards in her red faced stupor. She stared up at him as he held her back and smiled at her. She covered her face with her hands ashamed.

Hat pulled her camera out to snap a photo and grinned, she couldn’t wait to tell Bow their plan was working.