#ooo she officially has two blogs with her tag

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My Hatchetfield OC Aenara stimboard w/ related stims!!

{Requested by 🔮 anon}

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 152

I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it...

Okay, maybe I am. I managed to queue up the chapters I had in the barrel! Yay!! Which also means that I have a super duper exciting chapter coming up, which I can’t wait to write and can’t wait for y’all to read. I just need it to be perfect.

That said, thank you to @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog for your help with this particular chapter.  I love when we are all three in one of these sessions and just descending into chaos in the chat. Also, @mamayoda (who I can’t tag but I do want you to know I see your likes in my notes!) for love-bombing my notes recently.

“Is it just me or is everyone really jumpy?” Charly asked as I set my food down across from her.  It was our thrice-weekly lunch dates in one of the public mess halls, and she definitely had a point.  I had already noticed three people scowl distrustfully at the food consoles, hugging closely to the prepared food side of the room instead.

I sighed. “It has to have been Derek’s stress test.  It wasn’t supposed to impact systems we didn’t design, but…”

She snorted loudly. “Tell that to the week I spent taking cold showers again.  At least this time, the doors didn’t play any music when I walked through them.”

“Did your doors at least open consistently? I was stuck in my quarters for a whole day until we figured out that I could walk through if I had an escort.”  I laughed and shook my head before digging in to my food. “And, come to find out, we actually do manage the water systems, thanks to BioLab 2.”

Contrary to myself, Charly was entirely unperturbed at this revelation beyond sniffing her hoodie and shrugging. “My doors worked fine as far as I know, but Coffey and I tend to work the same hours, so… Maybe that was it.  Oo!” Her cheer of enthusiasm caught me off guard as she started bouncing in her seat. “OOOOO! I bet he activated the routine Xiomara had running when you and Jokul weren’t friends yet!”

“There was a routine!?” I asked, exasperated. “I behaved, thank you. It wasn’t necessary.”

“Meh. Just in case. What do you think her deal is?” She tilted her head to the side, at a table near us.

Sure enough, the woman at that table was darting glances around the room, her shoulders hunched, elbows close to her body, eyes wide.  I could practically feel her shaking from where I was. “I can’t tell if she looks suspicious or afraid,” I murmured, hoping the woman couldn’t hear me. “But the fact that I’ve met mice and chihuahuas who shook less, I’m going to go with afraid.”

As I watched the woman, weighing whether or not a stranger trying to comfort her would make it better or worse, Mona’s familiar face approached her instead.  She was speaking softly enough that I couldn’t make out words, but the woman clearly recognized her and only jumped slightly.

I was so focused on the sight of Mona comforting the woman that I nearly hit the ceiling when Parvati’s voice came from entirely too close to my right shoulder. “Rebecca.  She lost her family twice, first her parents, some cousins, and an uncle when the hack happened, and then her partner and children in the After.  It’s understandable that she’s terrified right now, after the stress test. Too many bad memories.”

My face flushed in humiliation. “Pranav and Zach sent a ship-wide alert that the stress test was happening - “

A perfectly manicured hand clapped over my mouth, one dark eyebrow arched in eloquent disbelief. “Sophia. You of all people know that mental scars do not heed logic.”

Charly’s hair flew around her face as she nodded enthusiastically. “After day three of cold showers, I flinched every time I went through a door in case that stupid song started playing again, no matter how many times I reminded myself that it was a stress test and I had decidedly not given Derek boba tea again.”

Both my hands flew up in surrender. “I stand corrected, I just feel awful to see people react like that.” Gazing around the room, I was suddenly much more aware of all the darting eyes, protective postures, seats turned so that backs were against walls.

Charly had obviously seen the same thing. “We may need to talk to Pranav about limiting the tests to one or two systems at a time.”

“I wish we could,” I admitted, stabbing a potato out of my pie slightly harder than necessary. “His department was passing the tests with flying colors when Derek was limited to one or two systems at a time.  But they failed this last test miserably, it turns out.  As soon as they would react to one thing, Derek would switch to another system, and they couldn’t be everywhere at once as well as they convinced themselves that they could.  And they can’t just be good at small scale attacks: the revolt that happened before the End brought everything down at once, from multiple access points. It was… kind of elegant, in a terrible way.  Very clean.”

Charly squinted at me and Parvati in suspicion. “Are you supposed to know that they crashed and burned in the test.”

I rocked my hand back and forth while I chewed on a mouthful of crust.  It had way too much butter in it, but at least it was actually crust this time. A week ago it had been something pretty close to paper mache. “Technically we don’t officially know that.  Officially, all we know is that Pranav has requisitioned enough additional staff to increase his team of programmers by seventy percent.”

“Asses handed to them, got it,” Charly nodded in understanding.

“We also officially know that Pranav currently owes Hannah quite the enormous favor,” Parvati confided.

“How big?” Charly ventured slowly.

“Big enough that his grandchildren may be indebted to hers,” came the laughing response.

Charly shook her head and clucked her tongue. “He should know better than to bet against Derek.  He breaks the systems for fun, and they asked him to really go for it. What did they expect?”

“Apparently to put up a better fight at least.” I forced a smile, but guilt weighed on my heart as I studied the room again, fully seeing the microexpressions of anxiety, fear, and anger.  It felt like the entire Ark was constantly swinging between hope and fear. The random drills weren’t really helping, either.

“They aren’t,” Parvati agreed, letting me know that I had been thinking out loud. “Everyone is sleep deprived, on high alert, and then all of a sudden all the computer systems went on the fritz for a week.”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead, pushing what was left of my pot pie away from me, appetite gone. “We need to talk to Grey and Antoine about getting counselling for everyone, seeing as how Xiomara and Pranav pretty much just triggered the entire ship. I mean, everyone knows counselling is available, but I think allocating training and resources to the therapy teams is going to take priority over Pranav’s request for the moment.”

Charly tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do we have the space for some quiet rooms, like you set up for the Food Festival a few years back? That may be a good idea.”

Snapping into work-mode, Parvati flicked her datapad open, bangles clattering as she started making notes. “The quarters left by those who relocated closer to the Archives are still uninhabited, those can be used.  We may be able to convince some people to relocate so we can spread the rooms out more evenly, but even if we can’t, just having those rooms available will help.”

“Make a note to add in the proposal for Grey: possibility of having specific vendors permitted to serve food in BioLab 2.  Encourage mental health days and picnics.”

Parvati nodded in acknowledgement of my request, before adding her own spin. “As a contingency plan, find vendors who will pre-package picnics.  Between the current distrust of the consoles and the fact it will remind everyone of the annual Festival, the good emotions will help.”

“I like it,” I confirmed. “What else?”

“Paintball tag day in the corridors,” Charly announced, without preamble or warning. “Make it a holiday, everyone is off work, limit it to one end of the Ark.”

I shook my head. “Guns, not the best idea.”

“Ew, no. No pew-pew.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was thinking more paint-soaked splash bombs.”

Finger guns deployed, dual wielding. “I am so here for a paintball tag day in that case.  The flavored paint?”

“Not the scotch bonnet please,” Parvati begged. “I just know someone will get that in the face, I don’t care how much Else likes it.”

“Got it, no more pepper spraying people,” Charly agreed seriously. “OOO! I could test the new arrows out!  With something like buttered popcorn paint, obviously. Maybe kiwi on the other team.”

“Just limit the pull on the bows, okay? I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Fiiiiine…”

Parvati smiled and added to her notes. “So, we probably want someone to correlate the current date to whatever the date would be on Earth… Just in case we need to get a consultant for Holi.”

“Good point. Conor is alarmingly good at that, so I can ask him.  It would be a nice cultural event if we could do that. If not, we can totally work on celebrating Holi when it comes around.”

“Final suggestion for right now, because I have to get back to work,” I sighed happily. “This is going to be the biggest ask, and the smallest at the same time…” Both nodded at me to continue. “Care packages, for everyone. And I mean everyone on the Ark.”

“Sophia,” Parvati scolded me. “That’s almost ten thousand people and sixteen animal companions.”

“Well aware,” I forged on, “We’ll talk to Sam about the bows, I can wrap them. Commission some of those really nice chocolates, or maybe some taffy from Simon. And something salty.  I know there is someone on the Ark who makes aromatherapy candles, Tyche is bananas about them.”

Shaking her head, she added it to the list. “If you insist on that, I insist on a celebration for the drop out of FTL.  Hannah and I can use some of the plans from the Food Festival, include Charly’s paint tag - “

“And Kink Night!”

“- and Kink Night, apparently… have several events going on across the Ark, since we already discussed declaring a holiday.”

“Get Bash’s permission to use the Undine again, and I won’t object,” I surrendered before standing. “On that note, I really do have to get back to work.  Come on, Vati, we have work to do apparently.”

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[jovialyouthmusic]

Charlotte’s Choice

A Royal Romance AU Fanfic

22 All’s Fair in Love and War

Constantine fights to keep control under Anton’s roof. Brad and Hana assist.

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Please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged. For those of you that are busy writing, or don’t have time - you know where to find my Masterlist xx

22 All’s Fair in Love and War

The shooting party disbanded after the King’s guardsman had been found badly wounded, shot in the chest. The air ambulance came to take him away and all the guests went back to the Castle. The birds were retrieved and taken either to the kitchens or to the gamekeeper’s shed to hang. The    evening dinner was still to go ahead, along with the King’s announcement of the next two suitors to be dropped. The guests were told to stay in their rooms before the dinner so that an investigation could be made into the accident. Anton’s security guards roamed the corridors, and no-one was allowed to move around without Anton’s approval. 

At first Charlotte was invited into Anton’s suite, but the King insisted that she be allowed to go to keep him company. He also insisted that Bastien’s men be allowed to move freely and assist with the investigation.  Anton personally escorted her to Constantine and tried to go in with her, but the King made it plain that he wanted only Charlotte to enter and called for Bastien too.

‘Are you alright my dear?’ he asked as she entered, pale and shaken. He sat at his desk, the paperwork from last night sitting there, either finished or yet to be looked at. Although it was late summer, a fire burned in the grate of the elaborate fireplace, a small fire that gave out a little heat.

‘I – Yes Father, just a little shocked. It’s terrible, poor Martin. He’s in a serious condition and hasn’t regained consciousness since Bastien was with him’

‘I daresay Severus will clear it all up’ he said calmly ‘Accidents happen at these shoots’ Quietly he handed her a piece of paper. Written on it were the words the walls have ears. She looked at it and he gestured to the fire, so she screwed it up and threw it into the flames.

‘Tell me what happened’ he commanded, indicating that he was going to write more, and she went over the events of the morning. He paid little attention, writing and occasionally interjecting neutral comments. She went on until he finished writing, and he handed over the paper, saying ‘let me get you something to drink my dear’ He busied himself clattering teacups and bringing out a tin of biscuits while she read.

Have gone over papers. He understands very well but cannot support all he approves. Some matters must be sacrificed to make a good balance and stay within budget. He does this to appear generous but could not sustain the country like this. He tries to impress me, but I see through him. He would be a despot. Charlotte’s eyes widened and he gestured for her to throw that into the fire too. Eagle eyed, he noticed her bracelet.

‘That’s a pretty piece of jewellery my dear, have I seen it before?’ He asked

‘It is beautiful isn’t it?’ said Charlotte ‘Anton gave it to me, he said it belonged to his mother’ The King scribbled again He means to impress you. Be wary.

‘It’s a fine piece, he must feel affection for you to give you something so beautiful’ but Constantine shook his head as he spoke. Whatever I say is the opposite when I shake my head. I nod for the truth. ‘Lord Severus has made a fine job of the official papers, he would make a good ruler my dear’. Again he shook his head.

There was a knock on the door, and Bastien entered. The King raised his hand to him and made a gesture that meant nothing to Charlotte but was obviously some sort of code, as the guard nodded. She threw the notes on the fire and watched the two men holding a conversation with hand gestures and nods while talking about something totally neutral. Her mind boggled at the complexity, realising that they were well practiced in their code.

Charlotte elected to stay with her Father as she was sure Anton would find a way to keep her company otherwise. She was genuinely frightened as Constantine would not tell her all the details of his assessment of what was going on, and Bastien left to do whatever damage limitation was necessary. She wanted to send a message to Drake but surmised it was too dangerous. The afternoon dragged on but an hour before the dinner was due to begin, security was lifted, and Charlotte went back to her room to change.

Earlier, Bastien talked to his second in command out in the open away from listening devices and spies.

‘Just how did Martin manage to get injured during the shoot? Did one of the guns go off target?’

‘It wasn’t a shotgun wound Sir – whoever shot him was using a handgun. The sound may have been masked by the shoot’

‘Do Anton’s men have this information?’

‘I don’t know Sir, they are not being very co-operative’

‘They will probably find out from the hospital. I trust you sent a team to guard his room?’

‘Of course Sir, we had two men go from the team at the Palace so we’re not short of manpower here’

‘Apart from Martin’ said the older man grimly ‘He did manage to pass on a memory stick before he lost consciousness and told me the password. It has an up to date floor plan of the castle, as far as I can tell, but why that was worth him getting shot, I don’t know’

The dinner went remarkably smoothly considering there had been a nasty accident and everyone had been questioned. Constantine looked better than he had for some time, thought Charlotte. It seemed that he thrived on intrigue and conflict. He announced that Milo and Rashad were the two suitors to be dropped from the race, leaving Maxwell, Anton, Brad and Drake. Only the last two remained to be tested as to their attention to detail with official paperwork, and it was Brad’s turn that night. Up until the time Charlotte retired to the study next to her bedroom, Anton was especially attentive. Charlotte did not get a chance to talk to anyone else without him hovering at her shoulder, and she felt stifled.

Anton escorted her back to her room and kissed her hand on the threshold. At last with a huge sigh of relief she shut the door on him, leaning against it, sliding to the floor exhausted. She had only managed a few glances at Drake and missed him more than she thought she could – all she wanted was to feel his arms around her, bury her face in his shoulder and weep tears of tiredness and frustration. She pulled herself together and changed out of her evening dress, wearing jeggings and a t shirt with a soft cardigan.  She had not been able to wear the chain Drake had given her, instead tucking it inside her bra, and now hung it around her neck, holding it in her palm and feeling its warmth.  It was not long before there was a soft knock on the door and Brad entered. She immediately felt comforted by his presence, his broad shoulders and square jaw inspiring feelings of stability and ease.

‘Hey Princess, how are you bearing up?’ he asked, concern in his pale blue eyes that seemed so much warmer than Justin’s, a little crinkle at the corners showing his temperament. She sat in the swivel chair, face in her hands scrubbing at her own eyes with weariness.

‘I feel terrible’ she admitted ‘Anton has barely let me breathe – he’s so charming but I feel stifled.’ She looked at him ‘Have you heard how the investigations have gone?’ He shook his head.

‘Not really, Anton’s men haven’t been very forthcoming and now they seem to be playing it down, saying he must have been hit by a stray shot. I don’t even know if he’s regained consciousness’ Charlotte sighed.

‘Well there’s not a lot we can do, and we have these papers to go over before I can get to bed.’

‘Here’ let me take a look’ said Brad, and started to shuffle though the files. The next hour or so was spent sifting through and analysing. Although he wasn’t familiar with a lot of the subject matter, he was able to see some of the diplomatic problems with a fresh eye, and had a very practical approach to financial matters and a keen sense of how to balance the books. Charlotte looked at him with surprise.

‘I can’t begin to imagine how you manage to understand some of this without being familiar with it’ Brad shrugged.

‘It’s a question of being objective to start with, then considering how it might affect the people in question. I’ve had a variety of jobs over the years and I guess it’s made me well rounded’

‘Well I’m sure Father will be impressed, but you really should have made an effort to mess things up’ she smiled ruefully. ‘The reality is I think you’d do well as Consort’

‘But you want to follow your heart, and I have no wish to be responsible for running an entire country’ he said, smiling sadly ‘To say nothing of my – involvement with Olivia. There’s not long to go, do you know how you’re going to handle your announcement?’

‘If I did, I wouldn’t be saying it out loud to anyone’ she said ‘I’m in a difficult position as you know. The next week is going to be crucial to Cordonia’s future.’  

‘Well changing the subject, I’ve heard a lot about  the parties at the Beaumont estate – it looks like we’ll get to have some fun before it gets serious’

‘I hope so’ she said wearily. ‘Thanks for helping me tonight Brad, I really should turn in now’ As she stood, Brad cast an eye over the vase of flowers on the windowsill.

‘Those have a really heavy scent’ he said ‘It makes my head hurt just sitting in the same room’ Charlotte looked at him in surprise.

‘That’s interesting’ she replied ‘There’s an even bigger arrangement in my bedroom, and I woke up with a thumping headache this morning’ Brad frowned, his brow furrowing and his dark blonde eyebrows crinkling.

‘Can I see?’ he asked, and Charlotte led him into her room. He stood next to bouquet and inhaled, instantly recoiling ‘Wow that’s strong’ he said ‘I would move these into the study before you go to sleep’

‘It’s rather heavy’ she said ‘I don’t think I could move it on my own’ Brad put his hands to it and lifted cautiously.

‘I can do it – open the study door and I’ll take them through’ Charlotte did as he suggested, and he moved the flowers with some effort. ‘I would crack the window a bit to air the room out too’ he said. He thought for a while, and went over to the desk. He wrote something down on a piece of paper and handed it to the Princess. Just in case it’s deliberate, have security move the flowers back in to your room in the morning. Charlotte’s eyebrows rose as she read it, and her hand went to the cartridge hanging rounder her neck, holding it for comfort. She nodded, and Brad held out his hand for the paper, crumpling it up and putting it in his pocket. They embraced, and Charlotte relaxed into him, grateful for the comforting contact, feeling the solidity of his broad chest, the warmth of his body. He was not Drake, but he was reassuring nonetheless. He squeezed her tightly, sensing her need. They broke contact and he smiled at her.

‘Thankyou Brad, she said wearily ‘I think I’ll sleep well tonight. See you tomorrow’ she briefly kissed him on the cheek and he left, bowing slightly.

 Charlotte woke to a soft tapping noise, and blearily rubbed her eyes to look at her phone to see that it was 5am. She realised that the noise came from the window, and went to see what was causing it. In surprise, she saw Hana on the balcony, finger pressed to her lips. She quietly opened the door and let her in. Swiftly her friend led her to the en suite. She turned on the shower before speaking.

‘Lottie, I’ve come to talk to you privately and liaise with Constantine. I had to be sure we aren’t heard’ Charlotte nodded and Hana continued ‘Your father thinks Anton will try to discredit Brad and Drake in some way, so be prepared. One of his aides was seen tampering with the papers Brad worked on. Tell me, how did he do?’

‘Very well’ said the Princess ‘I was impressed, he’d actually make a good job of it – but he doesn’t want to be Consort’ Hana nodded.

‘As long as we know what he’s capable of that’s all that matters. Tell me truly Charlotte, who do you want to rule with you?’ she looked into her eyes searchingly ‘You can tell me Lottie, I’m on your side – more than your fathers’, though he’s more sympathetic than you might think, darling’ Charlotte drew a deep breath, tears coming to her eyes.

‘Oh Hana, I daren’t. I daren’t say it until I’m in front of the Court, I can’t risk it, not for anyone – not even for who I want’ She bent her head sorrowfully and Hana took her hand, supporting it palm up. Charlotte looked up to see her looking at her intently, then back down at her hand. Hana traced the letter D on her palm, and the Princess burst into tears, nodding vehemently. Hana drew her into her arms and held her tightly until she quietened down.

‘I have to go Lottie. I’ll keep your secret – from everyone, nobody will hear it from me’ she said earnestly ‘We’ll find a way, I promise. I have to go now – take care my sweet friend’.

With her early awakening, Charlotte was able to dress quickly and go down to breakfast before Anton could intervene and serve it in her study. She had no trace of a headache and remembered to ask the member of the King’s guard in the corridor to move the flowers back into the room, tidying up a few fallen petals afterwards. She also left a window open in both rooms and left the adjoining door ajar. Anton entered the dining room to see her already there, sitting with Olivia and Hana. She caught the merest trace of annoyance on his face as he entered, but he quickly recovered and came up to greet her.

‘Good morning Charlotte’ he said, reaching out as if to take her hand, but although she put down her fork, instead of taking his hand she picked up a napkin and wiped her lips, taking just enough time that his hand hung in the air awkwardly before he took it back ‘I trust you slept well, Princess’ he bowed slightly and she smiled.

‘Thankyou Lord Severus, I did’ she replied ‘I feel refreshed. I was telling Olivia about the wonderful ride you took me out on yesterday. I hope to show her and Hana how beautiful the countryside is here. Would it be possible to take a couple of mounts out this morning?’ Anton looked surprised at Charlotte’s boldness in taking control of the situation, but he couldn’t turn her down.

‘Of course, I’ll join you if I may’ Charlotte put on an apologetic expression.

‘Oh Anton, I was hoping to catch up with Hana, have a sort of ‘girls only’ outing’ she said, pouting slightly. She saw him stiffen, but he bowed again.

‘But of course. I’ll send word to the stables. I do think you would be wise to take a member of security with you though, I would be only too pleased for one of my men to accompany you’

‘I wouldn’t think of putting you to the trouble. It would be just as easy to take one of the King’s Guard, and we have I have a female guard in mind to keep the theme of girls’ outing’ Charlotte said sweetly. Anton’s face darkened briefly.

‘But of course, whatever makes you comfortable’ he replied ‘But all the same I feel I must insist on having a member of my security detail follow – at a discrete distance out of earshot of course’ Charlotte sighed.

‘It’s very thoughtful of you Anton’ she ‘and of course security is very important after the unfortunate events yesterday. If you can assure me your guard will stay at an appropriate distance, how can I refuse?’ Anton bowed and walked away, leaving Charlotte to talk to her friends.

Drake chose Brad’s company that morning, knowing he had managed to have some private time with Charlotte the night before and wanting to know how she was. They walked out in the formal gardens, cautious to be out of earshot of Anton’s staff.  The Englishman told him of the flowers with the heady scent.

‘It may be nothing, but I suspect Anton of trying to lower Lottie’s resistance to his charms’ he said wryly. ‘You’ve seen how he’s monopolised her company. She did well to get out and away with Hana and Olivia this morning’

‘Yeah’ said Drake ‘It’s my turn to go help her with paperwork tonight – how did that work out for you?’ Brad made a wry smile

‘Better than I thought I would, it’s not difficult I think. I would say you should find your own way of coping with it, there’s no absolute right or wrong way to go about it. As long as you balance the books and keep as many folk happy as possible you’ll do just fine.’

‘Thanks my friend’ replied Drake ‘I wasn’t sure about you when Olivia first brought you over, but it’s been a pleasure getting to know you. You’re a man of many talents and handy to have around in a crisis’ Drake was referring in part to the accident the previous day ‘Bastien told me Martin’s not regained consciousness just yet. He’s got a couple of the King’s Guard outside his room in case anyone tries anything suspicious.’ Brad grinned at the Duke’s praise, then his face fell when he heard about the guardsman

‘What do you think of it all?’ he asked ‘Why and how did he get shot? I could see it wasn’t a shotgun wound so why are Anton’s men insisting it was?’

‘I don’t know, and Bastien’s trying to get to the bottom of it all’ replied Drake ‘I don’t trust that man an inch’

‘Did you know Anton much before all this?’ asked Brad. Drake shook his head

‘No, he didn’t have much to do with Court when he was younger, his father kept him away. He around the same age as Charlotte, Olivia and I, but we never got to know him.’

At that moment, Drake saw Bastien making his way toward them. He hailed him, and Bastien got close before he spoke.

‘Walker, Lord De Montfort, there’s been a development. You’d better come with me, I need to show you something’

[inkstainedfanfics]

Chasing Ghosts

Request: I rly love your blog a lot!! I was wondering if I could request a newtxreader song fic with the song "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap? Where the reader tries to warn Newt about Leta, but he gets mad and they have an argument? Then he loses contact with the reader for several years and tries to find her, but each time he gets close to finding her, she gets farther away? Really angsty please??? Thank you so much!!!❤️❤️❤️"

Word Count: 4,359

Pairing: Newt x Reader (Platonic)

Tag List: @dont-give-a-bother @red-roses-and-stories @caseoffics @myrtus-amongst-the-stars @ly--canthrope @studyforthreehands @whatinbenaddiction @thosefantasticbeast2 @benniesgalaxy​

A tinge of despair so intense it seems tangible still clouds Newt’s mind as he digs into the box of mementos, deeper and deeper until his dirt-caked nails crack against the bottom of the wooden crate. Nothing of significance. Nothing of importance. Nothing of use to him unless he wants to remember.

Cursing, he shoves himself to his feet. This room, this hall, this house is all useless junk now. He may as well burn it down; it’s not as if you’ll be returning at any point, not now that you know he’s discovered it. With a growl, he kicks the box, sends it tumbling onto its side. Its guts spill out, rolling across the ground, creating a mess that will remain until the landlord comes knocking for the next month’s rent. Already, it’s too late. You’ve vanished, and the short and chubby landlord with the beady eyes and missing smile won’t be able to track you down.

My fault, my fault, my fault.

No, finding you is Newt’s job, and he’s determined to do it.

A layer of fresh snow rests over the sidewalk and crunches under Newt’s feet as he trudges through the thick snow of Prague. Midnight’s dark has left the lantern lit road empty except for Newt and a few shady figures slinking in side streets. The chill of the air nips at his cheeks, turning them a faint pink, and his fingers are frozen in their curve around the handle of his suitcase. He pushes forward, eyes set on the hotel resting at the edge of the city.

“Hey, honey. How’re you doin’ tonight?”

Newt glances at the woman leaning in the alley just ahead of him. Her hair’s pinned up in a tight updo, curled against the base of her neck despite the temperature. Strands of it slip free from their pins, drooping in gentle curls to brush the collar of her fur jacket, a warm looking coat Newt knows he doesn’t want to know the history behind.

“I’m quite fine, thank you.” He ducks his head, striding forward, hurrying.

Her heels click against the pavement, cutting through the snow with ease. “Awe, come on, don’t run away. I just want to help. You look lost.”

“I’m quite all right.”

“You sure, honey? I’m a native to this place. I could help.”

It occurs to Newt that this woman is speaking English with no noticeable accent, but he brushes the questions away. A woman in her line of work must have plenty of talents. “I really must be going.”

Still, she follows him, feet steady even with the fresh snowfall and the patches of ice. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, darlin’. I promise.” When Newt says nothing, just scans the alleys, she laughs. “I ain’t got no friends with me, darlin’. You’re safe. Say, what’s in that suitcase o’ yours?”

“Clothes.” Partly true, at least.

“Ah, so you’re stayin’ at a hotel now, are you?”

“No.”

“No? Then what’re you doing? Ooo, can I guess?”

Newt says nothing, just continues forward. Two blocks left.

“You look like a fancy businessman with that jacket. So’s it for business?” She peers up at him, keeping in step surprisingly well. “No? Hmm, what’s a good-lookin’ man like you doin’ here, then? A woman? No? Come on, honey, you can tell me.” She draws her hands from the fur-lined pockets, grabbing onto Newt’s arm. “Oh, I know.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “It’s a friend, ain’t it?”

Newt’s pace quickens. He shouldn’t be here.

“That’s right, ain’t it? You’re here to see a friend. Well, sir, ain’t that special.”

“I’m sorry, I really must be going.” He tries to shake her hand free from his arm, but she’s clinging to him, grip so tight it hurts. One block.

“I know, an old friend. Someone you ain’t seen in a while.”

Newt’s stomach turns as the stranger continues.

“You had a fallin’ out, didn’t you? I bet it was over another girl.”

Newt grits his teeth.

“Ooo, I hit a nerve.” She giggles. “You know, I bet if you knew this girl, she’d still have a message for you. Something like, oh, I don’t know, an old scribble on some parchment.” Then she opens her hand, revealing a scrap of fluttering parchment, yellowed with age.

Newt halts, sucking in a breath and snatching it from her hands, unfolding the paper. It’s just a small doodle he’d given you for Valentine’s day in the fifth year, after you’d been upset about receiving nothing. “Where did you get this?”

The woman backs away from Newt, covering her mouth as she giggles yet again. “Oh, honey, she don’t miss you. She finds this chase a bit of fun, that’s all.”

Newt blinks away the surprise, curling the scrap in a fist and staring at the woman. “You know her?”

“How d’you think she’s avoiding you, honey? She’s a smart one you let get away.”

Newt breathes through parted lips, numb. Here she is, a contact, a method of reaching you if only he can conjure the right word. “Take me to her. Please.”

She shakes her head, leaning against a post. “Can’t do that. She won’t appreciate it.”

“Please. You don’t know who she is.”

“An old ghost, right? Well, honey, you’re just a zombie chasin’ her around. “

“Tell her I’m sorry. Please. Please just tell her that for me.”

“Can’t. She won’t hear it. She don’t miss you, and she wants you to know: she’d have already forgotten your name if you weren’t chasin’ her everywhere.”

The words slam into Newt’s chest like a brick, but he just shoves his hand in his pocket, digging for his wallet. “Please. Whatever you want is yours. Just tell me where she is.”

The woman shakes her head at his begging. “Sorry, honey. You messed up.”

Newt’s shaky breath forms clouds in the cold air, clouds that shoot forward with every frenzied word, “Please. I just want to apologize. You understand, right? Please give me a chance to apologize.”

For a moment, Newt thinks she’s going to agree, thinks she’s going to sigh and relent and drag him to wherever you are. He believes he’ll finally have a chance to apologize and make it up and the two of you can return to who you were, can work together, can talk the way you did for six years, the way you did when he was truly happy.

But instead she shakes her head again. “It’s just not gonna happen, honey. Best advice I can give you is to let her go.”

“Please.” He whispers.

She gives him a look of pity, so imperceptible he wonders if he truly saw it, then she’s gone, apparates away without another word, and Newt’s alone on the snow-covered sidewalk, fingers frozen and eyes shut. He was close, so close, and still you slipped away from his fingers.

Uncurling his fist, he stares at the doodle. It’s nothing intricate or ornate, just a tiny niffler holding a heart with your name in it. It isn’t Newt’s most complex or even well executed drawing, but you’d lit up when he handed it over. The day after receiving it, you’d proudly displayed it in the middle of a worn, gold locket so old the clasp no longer worked. You’d declared the drawing a treasure, something you would never choose to part with.

Yet here Newt stands, alone under the star-studded black sky, with a pink nose and the drawing clutched in fingers growing so numb the rational part of his mind fears frost-bite’s fury.

Though he knows he’ll find nothing but an empty room, Newt marches the final block to the hotel room, heart as numb as his fingers.

“What have you heard?” Newt asks the question as casually as possible as he lifts a frame from Theseus’s office desk. It’s a picture of his brother and nephew, taken months prior, just before Newt disappeared into the Andes for three months.

Theseus pours himself a drink and gestures to a second glass, shrugging when Newt shakes his head. “You know, little brother, I’m not sure you’re sincere when you say you visited solely to check up on how Marvin is doing.”

“He’s a charming boy.”

“True. But something tells me you’re here for a more selfish reason.”

Newt lifts an eyebrow. Theseus, never able to be straight to the point, even when it truly matters. “Such as?”

“A girl, perhaps?”

“Yes, well, you’ve always had little faith in me.”

Theseus laughs at this, his wide, galumphing laugh he usually reserves for important business meetings here in his private office. “I think a better way of putting it is that I’ve always known you better than you’re willing to admit.”

Newt shifts weight from foot to foot, setting the photo back on the desk, suddenly irritated. He’s standing here, surround by glass cabinets and a desk covered in official papers while you’re out there, Merlin-knows-where, just waiting to learn of Newt’s whereabouts and disappear again. He wonders for a moment what joke you would make about this place, about how stuffy it is even with the open windows, about how a war hero can’t take out his own trash. He can hear your voice in his mind. It’s been how long? 6 years since you last spoke? And still Newt can hear you as clear as day.

The sound brings a smile to his face, a smile that Theseus unfortunately misreads and misunderstands as a response to some joke of his own.

“See, I can be funny sometimes.”

Newt shoves his hands in his pockets to hide the quick beat he’s tapping against his side. If Theseus sees, he’ll know. He’ll know how desperately Newt wants this, how important this is, and there’s nothing Theseus wants more than to believe this is just Newt chasing down an old friend as a hobby. “A real comedian. Now, if you don’t mind, the information?” He tilts his head to the clearly marked file in the middle of the desk.

Theseus takes a sip of the whiskey, staring out the window and into the field behind the office building, suddenly solemn. “You know, I was surprised when I first came out here. They gave me the address, and I almost didn’t show up. The place seemed likely to be crowded by buildings and people.” He sighs, almost sadly, as though remembering some far-off memory, and despite Newt’s unrest, he pauses to listen to Theseus. “I couldn’t stand being trapped, feeling like I had no escape. The war, believe it or not, was not as easy as I make it seem.” He smiles, but it’s bitter. “I spent plenty of nights there wondering about our family, where you were in the field, whether mum at home was safe, whether pa would be proud. I can’t tell you how many nights I had nightmares after hearing about ambushes on troops…” Shaking his head and clearing his throat, Theseus continues with a stronger voice. “When I came home, I met Helen. You know that, but there were many nights I spent alone before marrying her when the nightmares would return. It wasn’t until we’d been married for four months that I realized I hadn’t had any nightmares since that first night. Being with her, having her there at my side was enough.”

He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “I wasn’t sure if I’d take the job, but when they showed me the office and the field back there, I knew I had an escape, a place to go should anything become too much. Helen agreed to meet there if I ever needed someone. She could apparate in with no worries about muggles, no need to wait for muggle technology to bring her to me like we would need in the city. The moral of this long-winded story, I guess, is to find someone to escape to, like Helen, and somewhere free, like this field.”

Theseus stops, then, still staring at the grass waving in the wind.

“I’m happy for you.” Newt’s quiet. You were that for him at one time, the person he could walk to when his nose bled or Leta said something or a creature passed. You were his escape before he ruined it all.

“As am I.” He lets out a sigh heavy with the weight of a war, “Listen, Newt, I know you miss her. But is she right for you? Are you certain? Was she the person you went to when it all became too much, when you couldn’t forget the worst parts of your past? Because you need someone, Newt, and you can’t settle with a ghost. You need someone present.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“Does a best friend abandon you and avoid you?”

Newt wants to shut his ears, to grab the folder and leave because, yes, this was his fault. Who else would have managed to ruin a friendship with someone so patient? “It’s my fault.”

“You know that’s not true. It was the timing, the circumstances. Not you. Even if it was, if she was meant to be your escape, she’d be here today, Newt. You know that.”

For some inexplicable reason, Newt’s eyes are watering. He knows this is his fault, has thought it through time after time after time, and he’s never come up with any other answer. But Theseus’s words waver in his head, offer a relief from the guilt wracking his nerves, and he desperately wants to accept them and remove the burden from his shoulders.

But he can’t, he reminds himself. It’s his fault.

His voice is weaker than he wants when he talks next. “Just give me the information, Theseus.”

Theseus swirls his drink, not looking away from the field. “You can see it on the desk. Take it, if you’d like, but I’m not feeding this habit anymore. You need to give her up, Newt, before you burn yourself out and miss life.”

Newt steps forward and swipes the folder, ignoring the tears gathering in his eyes. This is ridiculous. Theseus is ridiculous. It’s not burning him out. No, he’s in the wrong, he was the one that pushed you away, he was the one that cut you off, he was the one making bad decision after bad decision and all you wanted to do was help. You were a friend, and yet Newt turned his back on you when you asked for help, for somebody to listen, for a friend. He let them all say that about you right in front of him, and he did nothing. He owes you nothing less than an apology.

If only you’d let him give you one.

Shame floods his cheeks, a dark red wave crashing against him and making it hard, hard to think, to breathe, to want to move.

But you’d returned the drawing, the gifts, his personalized notes and the only picture you’d kept of the two of you. The thought fractures him, drags him deeper into that despair that’s all too common now. Maybe you don’t want him back.

Maybe he should stop looking.

But no, that’s wrong, he knows, because he owes you, he owes you so much that he can’t give. You were his real friend, and he’d just left you like it meant nothing.

Clenching his jaw, he shakes his head. No, this is foolish, letting Theseus get in his head like this. His older brother may mean well, but he’s not in this situation. He’s never done something so horrible. Newt just needs to keep trying, keep tracking.

Shutting his eyes to apparate, he pictures you the way you looked that day, tears on your cheeks, backing away.

With a pop, he disappears to read the files in peace.

“So sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me.” Merlin’s beard, how do people stand being packed together like this every day? How do they not tire of rubbing shoulders with a stranger or bouncing through a crowd, shoved by everyone? New York, Newt decides, is a mess.

Theseus’s information had led him here, to this city, to a specific apartment building. The first trip for something related to you in a long time. Too long. It’s been a year since his last lead in Prague. A year and half since California, two since Brazil, three and a half since Cairo. He’s not even certain how long ago Chicago, Ottowa, Moscow, and Glasgow were. All he knows is that it’s been too long since he saw you and made you smile.

But when’s the last time she made you smile?

Newt shakes the thought from his head, cursing Theseus for implanting any ideas about your own culpability. This isn’t your fault, can’t be. Newt’s the annoying one, the awkward one.

Flinching at his thoughts, he makes his way from the train station, dodging people left and right, gripping the suitcase in his right hand, left hand dug deep in his pocket to be certain the drawing doesn’t drift out.

Five blocks of dodging people and suddenly he’s there, in front of the tilted building. It certainly isn’t as glitzy as some of the previous establishments you’ve rented. It’s not grand or towering or at the end of a picturesque road lit by starlight and lanterns. No, this building is an ugly grey, its foundation sticking up from the ground, every third window seems to have some sort of crack in it, and the railing may fall the next time someone touches it.

Checking the apartment number, Newt pulls open the creaky door and steps inside. Steps wind up the side of the narrow entry way. The floor overhead squeaks, and Newt questions the safety of taking the stairs when the wood of the first step bends low under his weight.

You’re here, though, just five stories overhead, forgiveness only a staircase away, so Newt begins the climb. Nobody stops him. The only signs of life he sees are a couple of tomcats darting after rats the size of Newt’s hand.

He wonders if Theseus’s information was correct as he makes his way to your door. A muted song leaks under the door frame, and before he can let himself consider the consequences, he knocks.

Three minutes pass. Three agonizing minutes.

Finally, the music stops and the door creaks open.

Newt’s spent hours imagining meeting you again. The dreams always consisted of smiles and tea and spending hours reconnecting and sharing stories, watching your eyes light up as you weave tales about traveling to various cities, hearing the excitement in your voice, finally finding his best friend again.

You just stare at him from the crack, careful, eyes watching his every move.

“I, um,” Newt clears his throat. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You still say nothing, so Newt gestures behind you.

“May I step in?”

You eye him for another second before nodding and stepping away.

The room’s a wreck. There appears to be only one offshoot for a bathroom, and Newt has to bend to step in through the doorway. The walls are the same draining grey as outside, cobwebs infest the upper corners of the room, the two windows are both grimy with a substance Newt doesn’t dare try to identify, and the small record player in the middle of the room is dented in three different places. He’s hesitant to set his case down, doing his best to avoid a pile of dust.

He conjures up a joke, one that would normally make you laugh, but you don’t even flinch. “I thought Hogwarts dorms were cramped.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the wall farthest from him. “What are you doing here?”

Newt swallows, a mix of relief and shame and the culmination of so many years of grief knotting up and climbing up his throat, cutting off his voice. He has to clear his throat twice and stare at a ball of dust on the ground before he can talk. “It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

You cock your head. “Has it?”

“Six years?”

“Seven.” You plaster a strained smile on your face. “If you count sixth year as a loss, that is.”

“I’m sorry.” Sixth year, when you’d come to him, tears in your eyes, blood on your face, and he’d let Leta drag him away. Sixth year, when he saw you boiling in the hall after someone singled you out, and he’d walked past with a bowed head. Sixth year, when he’d chosen Leta over you, when he’d called her a better person, when he’d as good as wrecked the friendship with a single word.

“You don’t get to be sorry.” You spit out, words as bitter as they had been when you’d confronted him by the lake and he’d chosen to leave. The immediacy of your anger surprises Newt, but he doesn’t challenge it. No, he deserves this.

“I know.”

“You don’t get to be sorry when you’ve chased me around the globe trying to make up for something that was all your fault. You can’t keep following me, Newt. We’re done, don’t you understand that?”

Newt blinks, dropping his eyes to the ground. “Of course.”

“You ruined this.”

He did. That’s what he’s best at, after all. Mid-twenties with no friends to speak of. You left, then Leta left. He never formed any lasting connections otherwise.

Wandering the world searching for you had been a lonely endeavor.

“You were the one that left me, Newt, don’t forget that. I had a bloody nose from being punched and you let her drag you away. I had to heal myself.”

You’re supposed to forgive him like he forgave you for letting him walk away, for not bothering to fight, for ignoring him even after the experiment exploded in his face. Sure, he messed up, but he needed someone after the expulsion. You hadn’t even written a short letter.

Would a best friend abandon you?

Newt’s sharp breath startles you into silence, though the deep lines in your forehead don’t disappear. “You abandoned me.”

You recoil from the accusation. “Why should’ve I stayed when you’d been sure to let me know where I sat on your list of important friends?”

Would a best friend abandon you?

“Because you were my friend.”

“You made it clear that I wasn’t.”

Newt shuts his eyes; Theseus was right. “You were.” He finally forces himself to look at you again, to meet your gaze. “You were all I had after the experiment.”

If Newt isn’t imagining things, if it isn’t his desperation simply creating illusions, he swears he sees tears form in your eyes. From guilt? “You were being so selfish, Newt. I was your friend. How could walk away from me for her? How could you do that to me?”

“I was wrong.” Merlin, the words feel good to say. “But all due respect, so were you.” He peers up at you from under his flop of hair.

“How could you blame this on me?” You sound furious, but the tears spilling over the bottom of your lids alter the tone, turn it into one of grief. An emotion Newt knows all too well.

Newt’s own misery is dwindling, a sudden clarity replacing it. “I tried to apologize.”

“Three years later. After Leta left you.”

“I was a fool. And I couldn’t understand what I chose then. I promise, I wouldn’t make that choice again.”

You run a hand across your cheeks. “It’s too late. It’s too late.”

Newt’s heart breaks, a simple break that cracks right down the center. “You can’t forgive me?”

You wait, Merlin’s name, you consider the question, try to find it in yourself, but the hesitation is only a worse fate for Newt when you meet his eyes again and shake your head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Newt shuts his eyes, breathes out, then opens his eyes again and smiles a smile that could never pass as genuine. “I’m sorry, truly, for any pain I’ve caused you.” Then he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the parchment paper. “I was hoping you would accept this, for my sake.” He steps across the room and holds it out toward you. “I know I’m not in the position to ask for anything, but I can’t bear the sight of it, not when it belongs with you.”

You reach forward, hand shaking the slightest, and accept the gift for the second time in your friendship. Newt turns, lifting his case, and starts toward the door.

“I missed it, you know.” You say, stopping him.

Newt doesn’t turn, just stares at the doorknob in front of him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You stop, but Newt, despite the many years separated, knows you well enough to wait for the rest of your response. “Thank you.”

He nods and pushes the door open. “Best wishes.”

It clicks behind him, muting the ‘best wishes’ you echo back.

No tears fill his eyes, nor anger his chest. No, all Newt knows now is an exhaustion planted in his bones years ago, now taking root and begging him for a long nap.

Newt steps onto the staircase and nearly drops his suitcase when someone runs into him.

She shouts, a small noise, and grabs the railing. It groans but somehow holds. “Mercy Lewis, that could’ve been bad! Are you okay, sir?”

Newt steadies himself and nods. “Quite fine. Now if you don’t mind…” He gestures to the staircase behind her.

She glances back then realizes what he means. “Oh, of course, sorry. Sir, are you sure you’re all right? You look a bit upset.”

Newt ducks his head in a nod. “I’m quite fine, simply in a hurry, is all.”

The woman gathers her grey coat against her, wincing when it pulls a strand of her chin-length black hair. “Of course, I understand. Sorry for running into you. I really should be paying more attention to where I’m going.”

Newt squeezes past her, “No harm done.”

Then he pounces down three floors before apparating back home.

It’s time to visit his brother and his nephew. It’s time to stop chasing a ghost.

[fanfictionconnectionwordpress]

Mystic Messenger Fanfiction | VanderwoodxOC Cerise - Tagged | Ch. 12 Seven's Bunker

***What a day to post! Saeran route is officially available for Android users and my best friend is over at my place playing it, so we can experience the glory together. I'm hoping for a good route that I can do a continuation for in my Good Ending Continued Series. I just made it through Seven's route again and am drafting the beginning of his version which I hope to start posting by March. Hope to see ya'll reading that too~ Vandy will obvs make an appearance. Oh, btw, next week you get your first Cherrywood NSFW. ;3  ~Let's Connect! FFC***

*Remember, this is a sequel to Vanderwood Backstory, and Cerise has a bio. Don’t forget to subscribe to the email list for access to R-Rated Scenes and my monthly newsletter. You can support my writing on patreon and get access to my VIP Discord Server or other goodies like early chapter releases and hidden scenes.  Tagged Chapter Directory*

After their most recent encounter with Marie, Vanderwood and Cerise had decided to take another day before heading away from the hotel, making a shopping trip to a store for Cerise to purchase some pillows that would make her more comfortable while staying at the bunker. (Hidden deleted chapter for patrons.) It was for the better that she’d be there until Vanderwood could leave the agency. She needed to be kept safe; that was his highest priority. Cerise was simply playing around with her phone during the ride, only putting it away once Vanderwood pulled into Seven’s garage. He locked the security system using the in-car controls before turning to her. “Alright, shortcake…Let’s get you inside.”

Honestly, he was feeling just a little anxious. Vanderwood had always been on Seven’s case that relationships weren’t safe for them, that they didn’t deserve it. Not that he thought Seven would complain, more like he had a feeling the redhead would somehow take revenge on him. Seven would definitely be weird and annoying, that was inevitable, and he rolled his shoulders back, already dreading the idiot’s behavior.

Cerise was just ready to stretch her legs again, eager to get out of the car. Once Marion helped her out of the car, she grabbed her cherry pillow from the back and held it with both arms as they approached who she assumed was Seven. He looked nice enough, and he was already smiling. Of course, Marion had warned her that Seven was a troll, but maybe he was exaggerating. Sometimes it seemed like Marion saw the worst in everything.

Seven was standing in the doorway to the house with a huge grin on his face as Vanderwood approached, standing close to Cerise. Something about the grin on the redhead's face made the brunet feel on edge. "Ooo, I read in her file that she was short, but she is absolutely adorable, Mary." And Seven was already pissing him off. Cerise shuffled, her nose scrunching up in displeasure. The first thing out of his mouth was commenting on her height?

Vanderwood was about to open his mouth to give the redheaded idiot a piece of his mind when Seven started to reach for Cerise's waist like he was going to pick her up. Cerise stepped back, tucking herself a little behind him as Vanderwood felt something ugly stirring in his chest. Not only was Seven about to put his hand over her still healing wound, but the redhead was also about to touch his girlfriend. Vanderwood snatched Seven's arm roughly. "Pick her up, and I will break your arm."

Seven’s eyes widened somewhat at the tight grip. Holy...Vanderwood was mad. The redhead had seen him mad plenty of times, maybe even gotten tased on one or two occasions, but this was different. He frowned and pulled his arm away from Vanderwood's grip, who let go, seemingly a little confused as well at why his reaction had been so violent so quickly. If it had been anyone else, Seven had a feeling his arm would already be broken. Well, no matter, just don’t touch the little lady, and he could still have fun. The redhead grinned just as wide as before at Cerise. “As you wish, Mary dearest. I'm Seven Oh Seven, good to meet you, Lady Vandy. I happen to enjoy your blog as of late. I might have a picture or two of my maid that you can add."

She was glad that Vanderwood had succeeded in keeping his partner from picking her up, still sensitive where her wound was and not really interested in being treated like a child. Cerise chuckled nervously as the man introduced himself. "...Lady Vandy?" Apparently, he knew about her blog...not like it was hard to find it. Cerise glanced over towards her boyfriend who seemed to be in a state of irritation. She slipped her hand into his, giving it a little squeeze. Obviously Vanderwood's anger didn't deter his partner, and somehow, that was unnerving to her. "Uhh...sure, but I don’t think I know your maid?"

Vanderwood was already bristling, clearly not wanting Seven to show off his pictures, but when the girl took his hand, he seemed to get somewhat distracted. It was actually kind of sweet seeing the big guy with his girlfriend. He'd always thought Vanderwood wouldn't be able to find anyone to grab his attention, for longer than a few hours anyway. Of course, it also stung. Seven found what he was looking for and with an exaggerated bow, held out his phone, showing Cerise the photo of Vanderwood and he dressed as maids. Seven was hanging off of Vanderwood's shoulder in the photo, who looked very unamused.

Cerise peeked at the phone with her eyes wide, although as soon as Marion saw that photo, he snatched the redhead's phone. "No. Absolutely not." She had still managed to get a good look though, and now her mind was racing. Was that...was he...? Crossdressing, really? Just what sort of relationship did those two even have? She was horribly, horribly confused. Was this another part of his past that she didn't know about? Cerise kept nervously glancing between Vanderwood and Seven even as Vanderwood handed the phone back to Seven, presumably after deleting the image. Was there more about him that she didn’t know?

Deleting the photo was probably pretty useless, since Seven likely had a million copies, but it at least felt somewhat therapeutic, even with his eyebrow twitching. Cerise’s hand slipped out of his, causing him to furrow his brows and watch her from the corner of his eyes. She seemed…shocked and lost in thought. Well, could he expect anything less when Seven had just shown her a picture like that? He’d have to deal with that later, once the redhead wasn’t around. Vanderwood slipped his hand behind Cerise's back after giving Seven a little shove, getting a laugh from the redhead even as Vanderwood guided Cerise past him, grumbling. "Lay off, will you?"

He led his girlfriend to the couch, but Seven still seemed to be hovering. That wasn’t completely unusual. Vanderwood sighed and rubbed his face. “I’ll be right back, shortcake.” Cerise made a noncommittal noise. She didn't even take out her phone when she sat on the couch as she tried to wrap her head around the situation and make sense of it.

Vanderwood broached the topic of leaving the agency, disbanding it even, but it seemed like Seven wasn’t entirely on board. It didn’t make sense to him. In all the time Vanderwood had known the redhead, Seven had always seemed like he hated what he had to do and the workload. Although, once the kid mentioned his twin brother, Vanderwood felt a tight pang in his chest. He hadn’t known. Well, he’d suspected there was someone that the redhead was protecting, but it made even more sense to him now. "Right, yeah, just give me a day to rest up then...I’ll help you find your brother and then we’ll get out of this." The redhead seemed far more on board with that. It would mean field work, potential danger, being away from Cerise, but that was what it was going to have to take.

Vanderwood rejoined Cerise on the couch as Seven shot him a peace sign and left the house, with a grin that once again had Vanderwood questioning if the redhead was up to something. Cerise was still out of it, only shifting slightly as Marion sat next to her. She hadn’t been able to hear what he and his partner had been talking about, but considering that she didn’t understand what was really going on between the two of them, she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to know.

"So, that's Seven. I took a bullet for that asshole." God, he felt awkward. Vanderwood rubbed at the back of his head. He hadn't addressed the photo yet, but with Cerise sitting here looking like she was going through the shock of her life, he was going to have to deal with it right now. "That photo...that was just us doing undercover work, and in no way do I do that normally, nor did I enjoy it in any capacity." He wasn’t sure if she just had an issue with crossdressing or if she was having weird visions of him walking around in women’s clothing, but he wanted to nip anything like that in the bud right away.

Cerise had been about to ask him about the photo, but he had beaten her to it. His explanation made her sigh in relief. Okay, so that was one less thing she had to worry about...It wouldn't have made her love him any less, she would have just had...a bit of concern. Knowing now that he wasn’t a crossdresser or secretly wanted to be a woman or something…It made the photo a lot more hilarious. He had looked really irritated in it too, like he wanted to kill somebody. "I think..." She started to laugh a little now, the hilarity of the moment really hitting her, "...That you might...pfft...look better in a skirt than I do."

He had been waiting for her reaction, watching her, but when she finally did react, he wasn’t sure how to process that either. Was she laughing at him? And then what she'd said actually started to make sense in his brain. "C'mon, Cerise. I’m too masculine for that bullshit…” His voice kind of trailed off a little before he coughed and the rest of what he was thinking made its appearance. "Besides...no one could ever be better looking than you." It was really true, no one had ever affected him in the way that she did. Her cuteness had been the first thing to strike him when he'd met her, but that had quickly transformed into the knowledge that he found her strikingly beautiful. Vanderwood rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. He needed a change of subject. Now that he wasn’t on a mission anymore and cigarettes were back on the table he also felt like he was getting a craving. "Do you uh...want to watch a movie or something?"

Cerise was still giggling, loving the way he was reacting. Maybe she would have to ask Seven if he had any backups of the photo later. She hoped he did, because she now found that she needed it. Grinning at the compliment, she gave Marion a kiss on the cheek before settling back down on the couch. "A movie sounds great. Let's watch something you like." Cerise was a little excited to see the type of thing he would watch on his own. So far, they'd only watched things together that she enjoyed.

"Um..." Something he liked to watch? Mostly all he'd ever watched was action movies and laughing at the crazy shit they did in the secret agent ones. Sometimes he'd complain about them totally flubbing something up...but if she wanted to watch something he wanted to watch..."I guess that'll be a secret agent movie then." The nerd in him had considered grabbing Niron Man, but he didn’t quite want to reveal just how much of a dweeb he was right now. He smiled sheepishly, getting up from the couch to grab a movie he'd watched several times and starting it up. Cerise just giggled at his selection as he worked on getting things ready. Did he like to watch secret agent movies ironically or something?  

Vanderwood stretched and looked at the couch as the opening previews started to play. After being cramped up in the car all day, he really needed to stretch out. Maybe Cerise wouldn't mind. His face filled with a little bit of color. "Shortcake, you think I could lay across the couch and you could uh...lay on my chest maybe?" Why was he being so awkward to ask such a simple little question? She tilted her head a bit at his request before smiling widely. "I'd love to do that." Cerise wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to snuggle up to him, no matter the reason, and laying on his chest while watching a movie sounded cozy and actually sorta romantic. She shifted out of the way to let him lay down, grabbing her cherry pillow from the cushion where she’d placed it and hugging it tight.

He stretched out onto the couch, making a soft groan of relief at getting to lay down and relax. Vanderwood was really getting into this lazy day stuff. He furrowed his brows, eyes scanning the room. It didn’t look like a pigsty…Had the redhead cleaned up on his account or for Cerise? Or was the redhead really planning something?

Once Cerise had settled down onto Vanderwood’s chest, he reached for the remote and started the movie. She could probably hear his heart skipping just a little as she'd first laid down, something he was starting to get used to when it came to her. Vanderwood stroked her hair and back gently, knowing she liked that from the time they'd spent watching TV in the hotel room. Cerise could hear the quickening of his heartbeat as she snuggled the cherry pillow trapped between them. She found the way his heart changed pace as she nuzzled him endearing as well as amusing. This man wasn't playing when he said he had feelings for her, and it made her own heart beat faster. Cerise couldn't help but to close her eyes despite the movie playing as he stroked her hair. She was a victim to the calming sound of his heartbeat. The way he was gently stroking her hair and then her back...who could blame her for having heavy eyelids?

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head as he hit play on the main menu. This was so incredibly pleasant. His brows furrowed as a soft hissing got his attention. Vanderwood looked up, seeing the emergency sprinkler directly above him opening up. Shit fuck, and the next moment the sprinkler started pouring on them. He was pretty stuck with her on top of him, not wanting to move too fast and knock her off him to get hurt.

Cerise was just able to drift off when she was beginning to get soaked with water, causing her to shriek and jump up. Her first instinct was to protect her phone, so she shoved it in between the cushion and arm of the couch. It was already too late for the pillow she was cuddling in her arms. She looked up to see that all of the water was coming from the sprinkler above the couch and moved away from it to try and get out of range of the thing. "How do you turn this thing off!?"

Vanderwood was about to get more soaked than he already was. "Fucking...Just a second." He pushed himself up and hopped onto the couch, reaching up to the sprinkler and manually placing it into the locked position, stopping the downpour. Everything was sopping wet, from his hair, to his clothes, to his girlfriend. His jacket and gloves would need some tending to after this bullshit. Grumbling, he hopped off the couch, pulling off the items and hanging them over a nearby chair to dry. This had to be Seven. One single sprinkler turns on and it happens to be the one right above them? Vanderwood turned to check on his girlfriend. "You alright, Cerise? Besides being wet, I mean." His eyebrow twitched just a little. The redhead was going to get it. He didn't know how yet, but he'd figure it out.

Cerise nodded and looked to the now soaked couch where her phone was hidden, approaching slowly just in case the sprinkler decided to come back on. She reached for her phone, scrunching her eyes closed tight before trying to press the home button and then opening her eyes to see if it had turned on. Thankfully it still worked and wasn't damaged…but her poor pillow. Cerise squished it a little and water dripped onto the floor. She stared at it blankly for a moment before tears formed in her eyes. Once a soft, fluffy pillow got wet, it would never be the same again. She hadn't even gotten to properly cuddle it yet! It probably seemed silly to cry over a pillow but dammit! It had so much cuddling potential! Cerise kind of crouched with the wet pillow and held it to her chest, not caring because she was rather soaked herself. One last cuddle for her fallen comrade.

He watched rather helplessly as tears formed in her eyes. Holy shit, his girlfriend was crying! What was he supposed to do? He felt completely unprepared. Oh, that redhead was so dead. Vanderwood just went with his gut instinct and crouched down next to her, pulling her into his arms with gentle care and kissing the top of her head. He didn't say anything, not really one hundred percent positive on why she was crying, but he supposed that didn't really matter at the moment. What was important was that he got her to feel better, and this seemed like a normal way to do that...right?

Cerise leaned into him and sniffled a little. "The pillow you got me is ruined...you're not supposed to get them wet..." Vanderwood held her a little tighter as she sniffled. "I'm sorry, shortcake..." It seemed a rather silly thing to be crying over to him, he’d been concerned that it was something horrible. Well, maybe this was horrible in her mind. The harder Cerise squeezed the pillow, the more water dripped from it. It was like her pillow was crying too.

After a few minutes of silence, she straightened herself up and did her best to wring out the rest of the water from the pillow. She sighed and looked at it with a sad expression before turning back to Vanderwood who was starting to stand up now too. "At least I still have it so...that's a plus." Cerise shivered a little, reminding her that she was indeed still wet, and the room was a little chilly. "We should probably go get some dry clothes. "They were pretty damn soaked, and Vanderwood wasn’t about to disagree with her, definitely not when she’d just been crying. "Let me just go grab your stuff out of the car.”

He was thinking about how he would get back at Seven as he headed out to the car, grabbing her bag from the back. His eyebrow twitched as he heard something else, faint thanks to his hearing damage but... Was that barking? Oh no. Oh no, no. Vanderwood broke out in a run back to the living room.

Cerise had taken out her phone to write a status update while she waited when she heard shuffling. She looked around confused until there was barking. What looked like a tiny robotic dog had wandered into the living room and was barking at her. It was actually kinda cute, and she kinda wanted to...pet it? She had made up her mind to do so when Vanderwood came barreling back into the living room, yelling not to touch it.

"Cerise! Whatever you do don't touch that dog!" What the Hell was the redhead thinking? That stupid fire-breathing guard dog could really hurt her. Of course, Seven was probably sending it out for him, but really. What the fuck? The dog was standing in the living room, facing the doorway as Vanderwood came in, and then it's mouth opened, an orange glow visible. Oh shit. He ducked out of the way and ran to pick up Cerise, carrying her bridal style.

She had turned to shoot him a puzzled look before the dog's mouth began to glow, and then he was picking her up and running off with her. It was hard for her mind to keep up. The dog started to spew flames from its mouth as it chased him. What was even happening...? "The dog breathes fire!?" She asked him incredulously. Was this normal for this place? It wasn't long before the lights went out too, the only light coming from the glow of the robot dog's flames. Now Cerise was panicking and terrified. It was like something out of a horror movie.

Holy Lord, this wasn't good. He couldn't remember the damn command for the mutt. Had Seven been banking on him remembering? Jesus. "It's okay, just...gotta remember what ‘heel’ is in Arabic." Vanderwood was going to strangle Seven. It was dark too, and he was having to think hard to figure out where his own room was. Cerise was in danger in his own damn house. He started randomly spewing the Arabic words he could remember as the dog continued to bark away. At least it was keeping its fireballs restricted to the floor. Vanderwood got to his doorway after what felt like running in circles for ages, placing Cerise and her bag inside. "Change here, I'll take care of the mutt." He closed the door as fast as he could to keep that dog out, running back into the living room to find his Arabic dictionary in his jacket.

Cerise stumbled around in the room a bit in the dark, her heart beating wildly and trying to calm down. She was worried but was sure that Vanderwood could handle it...being an actual secret agent and all. Still...that dog was scary. What dog breathes fire anyways!? She dug around in her bag to try and find some clothes to change into. She couldn't really see, so she grabbed whatever. Matching was the least of her problems at the moment, and she just wanted to be out of her wet clothes. Cerise peeled off her clothes and replaced them with the dry ones she had randomly chosen. Just as suddenly as the lights had turned off, they turned back on. Did that mean Vanderwood had successfully defeated the scary fire breathing robot dog? She wanted to take a peek outside of the dorm but decided against it, because who knew after that what she would find?

Vanderwood had been stumbling around trying to find his jacket when the redhead finally decided to show a little mercy by turning the lights back on. He was probably laughing his ass off as he watched from the CCTV's. After grabbing his jacket and rummaging around in the pockets, he was finally able to find the dictionary. It was soaked, but somehow, he found the right page. Vanderwood gave the command and the dog stopped completely, sitting back on its haunches and shutting down.

Such a quick fix for something so disastrous. He breathed a sigh of relief and focused on trying to catch his breath. There were scorch marks all over the floor. So that was why the house had been clean, why he’d used the sprinkler on the couch. Seven had been trying to keep from starting an actual fire or damaging anything important. The brunet’s eyebrow was twitching like mad, his skin starting to crawl as he looked at the mess. Vanderwood needed to clean…but then Cerise was probably worried. As much as he couldn’t stand the mess, his OCD making him itch like mad, Vanderwood started to make his way back to his room. She was far more important than the mess.

"Everything's fine now, shortcake!" Vanderwood called out to her before he returned to his room, pausing before entering, not wanting to walk in on her changing like he had that one time. He knocked and waited for her okay before opening the door and going to her, taking her face in his hands. "Are you alright?" His brown eyes searched her gold ones as he ran his hands over her, looking for any injuries just in case, too focused on the task at hand to be flustered by it.

"I'm fine...are you?" He just nodded as he continued what he was doing. Cerise didn't really care that he was dripping some water on her as he checked her over, she was just happy that he was able to handle the danger and get back seemingly without any injuries. Having him worry over her like this was sweet...even if having his hands run over her was a little flustering. She knew his mind wasn't anywhere near that, so she didn't make a fuss over it. "You should probably get changed yourself. I'll wait outside the door." It shouldn't be a problem if the threat of the dog was taken care of. Cerise gave him a quick squeeze before she headed out the door, closing it behind her and waiting for him to change.

Vanderwood had been about to tell her that he had an attached bathroom, but she was already headed out of the door, and he was getting hit with a Hell of a realization. Only then did he realize that he'd just touched her practically everywhere. His face turned all sorts of red as he grabbed some clothes to change into, getting out of his soaked pants as well as his shoes and everything else. He could walk around the house barefoot just fine, so Vanderwood threw on just a t-shirt and some pants, praying to whatever douchebag of a God existed that Seven was done with his trolling game before joining Cerise just outside his room in the hallway.

When he finally reappeared from his room, she turned around to face him and couldn't help but to blush a little. He was wearing normal clothes...just a t-shirt and pants, but somehow, he made it look extremely attractive. She was pulled from her thoughts when he started getting close to her and her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest. Normally she wasn't this hyper aware of him or this flustered at the mere sight of him...What was going on? He was giving her a sheepish smile, trying not to think about the fact he'd just had his hands all over her.

His thoughts slipped to Seven, anger and tenseness slipping into him, worse the more he thought about it. He decided to focus on Cerise, knowing she had that amazing ability to calm him down...when she wasn't irritating him too. A small snort escaped him at the thought. She was his everything, and he was really going to give that redhead some good payback, although he wasn't positive on how yet. Vanderwood bent his head to give Cerise a kiss. Cerise melted right into him, her hands going to his chest as he pulled her closer. Was her heartbeat even wilder than normal? She didn’t have time to dwell on it.

The floor was moving out from under them, and Vanderwood broke their kiss just before it sped up even more. Fuck. How had he forgotten about the damn hallway conveyor belt? They tumbled, causing Cerise to shriek in surprise. Thankfully, she had fallen on top of him. Vanderwood grunted as he hit the floor, quick to wrap his arms around her protectively. Then the conveyor belt just stopped moving, having deposited them at the end of the hallway.

Once the dumb conveyor belt stopped moving, she attempted to check on him, because he was the one who had the pleasure of falling right onto the floor with extra weight on him. "Marion! Ohmygosh Are you okay?" Luckily, her wound hadn't been disturbed much. It ached a little, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Vanderwood’s mind was turning toward revenge. Seven was so dead. He probably wouldn't be home until late that night, but that meant he wasn't going to get much sleep…Perfect. It really wasn't time to think about that right now with her on top of him, though, and now she was fussing over him. He couldn't help but blush at how she was checking on him, using his real name. It just sounded so nice coming from her. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, shortcake." His hand found her cheek, thumb stroking gently. "I'm fine." Actually, he was surprised that he wasn't so tense that he couldn't think, surprised at just how little effort it was taking to push irritation away in favor of caring for her and enjoying her presence. It seemed like the more he had gotten used to not using sex as a stress-reliever, the easier it was to relax normally. That felt so fucking good. No pun intended.

Cerise sighed in relief and smiled as he responded to her. The guy took bullets and being cut like a champ, of course a fall wouldn't hurt him...but she still couldn't help but to worry. Cerise nuzzled into his hand before realizing that maybe she should get off of him, so he could get up. She laughed nervously and stood up, blushing something fierce again. "I uh...thanks for breaking my fall by the way..."

That blush on her face was supremely adorable, and he immediately responded without even thinking. "I'll always be there to break your fall...Just like you were when I fell for you." Cheesy. He was going to have to get used to the fact that he sounded like an utter idiot when he was hitting on her. All other women, he was charming and sultry, but no, he was just a cheesy idiot with her. Vanderwood got up from the floor, briefly rubbing the back of his head where he'd whacked it, for once not rubbing it because he felt awkward. He was so sweet, and it was just making her blush worse. She turned around, so he couldn't see her, rubbing at her cheeks...which was probably doing absolutely nothing.

He looked up at the CCTV directly above them and flipped it off. It was best to get the two of them out of any main areas of the house where Seven could enjoy watching his trolling through CCTV feeds. "Let's head to my room...It's safer in there." Cerise nodded her head in agreement, hoping that maybe magically her blush would go down, as she turned to follow him back to his room. They were both stepping carefully, so as to avoid the conveyor belt. Yeah...his room was probably safer. She didn't quite know what was going on, but she definitely didn't want any more surprises from the weird house.

Vanderwood was busy hating himself for having moved into Seven’s house, but it had become impossible not to with the way the redhead had started slacking when that ‘MC’ joined the RFA or whatever stupid charity group it was that the idiot had joined despite the security risk. Could he really judge the redhead for the security risk anymore now that he had his own? It was better not to think about it. Honestly, it all felt a little like déjà vu, as though maybe he’d been through this route of things several times before. His scar from Drawl started to ache as well as his head, so he just shook his head and opened his door, holding it open to let Cerise inside. At least they’d be safer in here.

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[hyuncakes]

hi i was not sure if i should send this to your main or this but since this blog is more wanna one related tag could your mutuals as points in "if kpop positions were accurate" this is the post = seokjinandtonic. tumblr. com/post/164651220236/if-kpop-positions-were-accurate i have been following both of you on your main and here and i like you to know i am a fan and your graphics inspire me

YOU ARE SOOOOO CUTE OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LIKING OUR GRAPHICS!! And saying that we inspire you ;___; that’s so so sweet of you I literally screamed. You deserve the worlddddddd!!! This seems fun so let’s get to it!! ^^ Lillian and I are gonna combine our answers lol so if you’re tagged and are like “lool this girl isn’t even following me though???” it’s prob the other person~ :^)

the hyung you thought was a maknae

tbh I thought Ying was my age but it turned out she was 95 line!!! @ Ying I also tagged you for something else below c:

the unofficial visual

@woojiniel and @perkwoojin are so so so pretty?? Idk but these were the first two I thought of!! They have such soft, sweet visuals and I think usually in groups the official visuals are the ones with the “stronger” visuals? But once you get into the group more you start to notice that one member who’s like so so cute that you can’t believe they’re not officially labelled as a visual. 

the “not my bias, but is my bias”

Ummm probably @hwangminyeo! She’s like the member of the group that you first notice because of her visuals, and then you’re like semi-interested in that member and half keeping an eye on that member while you settle on a bias. And then once you get into the group more you find out that not only is she a visual but she also has such a cute personality? Like she’s more shy and dorky than you originally anticipated and then you fall for her double charms. (But you still gotta stay loyal to your bias lol)

the workout-aholic who basically lives in the gym and boy does it show

I’m putting Abby @hwangminyeo under here to because idk if she goes to the gym often or not but body goals 😭😭😭😭

the walking, living, breathing meme

@seonnho This is the one image I have of Jennie tbh… just one big meme (a cute one at that)!!! She makes the best textposts on her SVT blog. I love her sense of humor it’s just so…. relatable LOL. Is it because she’s a Seungkwan stan that she’s like this? It’s proven that Boo stans are the memest. I feel like she hasn’t made that many meme-y posts on here (or maybe I missed them :(( in which case I suck) but once she does 👀 Anyway I’ve talked to you like twice but I still love you c’:

I looked at the positions list before looking at Bonnie’s answers and thought Jennie would be perfect for this one and guess what… Bonnie’s already listed her LMAOOO PERFECT - Lillian

the one everyone has called “daddy” at some point

aaah no one I can think of because Daniel isn’t mutuals with us…… LOOOOL OMFG JUST KIDDDDDING (Lillian be like 😷😣🙏) Why did I even answer this one it’s so weird kfldjglkfdjgklfd

😷😣🙏 - Lillian

the ship that’s a hundred percent real and they know it

Is this even a question… @hwangminyeo and @minhwangs are the power couple!!! You always see them professing their love to each other on your dash LOL Romeong and Daliette are feeling threatened.

the short one that everyone is highkey afraid of

@minhwangs Sarah is a cutie but everyone knows that if you mess with her friends she’ll let you have it. She won’t hesitate to lash out at you if you dare insult the things and people she holds dear. So while she isn’t scary, she’s someone you don’t want to mess with once her protective side kicks in! But honestly it’s really sweet how even though she doesn’t let harsh words directed toward her bother her, she stands up for people ;___; She’s selfless that way!

the one that takes every opportunity possible to be extra as hell aka the variety king

@emperorhwangs Rui without a doubt is one of the funniest people here on Tumblr!! I love her sense of humor and even when she says the most random things like “a stick of rat deodorant” I just die laughing. I was contemplating between putting her for “the walking, living breathing meme” but I settled with this one because I associate her with Ong a lot! And we all know he’s the variety king so~ The captions in her gifs are the funniest and most extra ever, even the way she talks is super extra and funny.

the motherly one that takes care of the rest of their members and occasionally reprimands

@2hyeons Ying is more of an older sister type than the mom but she still gives off that caring vibe. She seems like the kind of sibling who barely talks to you because she’s stuck in her room all day doing work but she’ll also be there for you when you need it the most. Lowkey the kind of older sister who will call your cheating significant other over the phone just to scream at them and rat them out for hurting her little sibling loool. She’s more of an older sibling because while she takes care of you, she makes you want to take care of her too and cook her meals and check up on her once in a while to make sure she’s still sane c’:

@luminous-point Reni gives off such motherly vibes without even trying to idk why?? Not only because she’s 95 line! But she’s like your sweet hardworking mother (working hard doing translations 👍👍👍) who you always think of fondly whenever she appears on your dash. She always expresses her true feelings and stands up for what’s right, which is really difficult to do and as a result super admirable. She always has a very mature standpoint about things and avoids unnecessary drama. I feel like the dynamic is that we’re all little ducklings and she’s the mom!! But mom has to take care of herself too!!!

@p-arkwoojin and @minsbugi I put Jem & Kenia in this category because they’d make sure all the members are equally loved!! They both have huge hearts and no matter how many members make up their group(s), they’d take care of each and every one! - Lillian

the 4D member that looks cute in a sexy comeback, and sexy in a cute one

@hahasunqwoons! I think the ‘4D’ title really suits Summer even though she may not seem like it at first. But once she opens up to you, you’ll know what I mean looooool. She’s not 4D in the really wild sense but more of a lowkey kind of 4D (like Vernon!). Also I think she would fit both concepts! But she unintentionally shows reverse charms like in her Never dance cover (if you haven’t watched it yet, go watch it please. you won’t be disappointed), the song is more serious but she gives off a somewhat cute vibe! I think she could rock IOI’s Very Very Very as welllll :^) (future cover idea?)

the member who doesn’t have to worry about gravity bc they basically just flip everywhere

can’t think of anyone? :OOO

the extremely under appreciated one

ummm @kiminguy??? @guanlliver??? @lovebugi??? @wanhyun??? (Mutuals on here and our SVT blogs squad!! LOOL) I love all of them and their graphics to death I will literally make a blog and reblog all of their creations 50 million times like they deserve. Of course they all have such cute personalities dlkgjfdkj but I’ll spare you from my rambling and focus on their beautiful works~ Naomi has such soft, pastel graphics (pastels are one of my fave things in the universe) and she was one of my first favorite graphic makers in the Seventeen fandom back in the day. I followed her first and then when she followed me back I was SOOOO HAPPY OMG BC ONE OF MY FAVES NOTICED ME. Next we have Yasmin and although we haven’t talked much I really adore her graphics because they’re really unique! She uses vibrant colors and dark colors so well (a thing I’d like to learn how to do hehehe) AND also pastel graphics with vibrant coloring… a jack of all trades tbh. Next, there’s Jaymee, who I’ve been mutuals with forever on our SVT blogs but I never really got a chance to talk to until recently! (And she’s the sweetest…my one and only fan….LOOOL). Once again she works with both dark colors and pastel colors very well! Her edits and graphics have a minimalistic approach to them which I admire so so much because I always cram stuff onto a canvas and get bothered when there’s empty space in my graphics. Last but not least there’s IMA!!! My self-proclaimed little sister c’: I’ve known her for most of her time in the Seventeen tumblr community and I love seeing how her works changed over this period of time. But her works always have that special charm and uniqueness that you know right away that it’s her work! No one could imitate her style and pull it off! Inimitable seventeen carat hehe Ima always has a special place in my heart. I love her coloring style, I love her graphics style, I love her. But yea as you can tell I have much love for graphic makers and more especially underrated graphic makers! Graphic makers are a blessing to each and every fandom. Thank you.

also @tokkimingi​ like we’ve never talked before but Ale’s gifs and edits are soooo high quality and have the prettiest coloring and they deserve so so so so many more notes??? Like the Ren gifset I just reblogged….this is the kind of content that should receive 1k notes okay AAAAAH @ Ale, Lillian and I love your creations so much and you’re basically the go-to blog for NU’EST related gifs and stuff AAAAH 💕💕 

I AGREE WITH ALL OF THE ABOVE HOLY MOLY - Lillian

the one that finds pleasure in other members’ demise

I’m sure this goes on a lot when people tag each other in their bias wrecker posts cough when I send Bonnie black-haired Suga pics but I see @minhwangs​ and @hwangminyeo​ tagging each other in Daniel stuff sometimes and it’s so funny loool. I know you guys are Minhyun-biased but Daniel!!!!! - Lillian