#sorry about all the rambling - this has been rattling around in my head for months - im sorry it took this long

[homecomingvn]

Hey everyone! It's, uh, it's certainly been a minute.

If my brief return a few months ago and then radio silence yet again is any indicator, I'm sure most of y'all probably know where this is going.

HOMECOMING, as of now (and for the indefinite future) is going to be on hiatus, and maybe discontinued.

This project initially started out as a silly idea, a culmination of my love for the yandere vn community and the wonderful games it has created, and my original plot and cast of characters. In the beginning, I was trucking along, working on scripts, planning out routes, spending hours of research on coding and how to get this thing up and running. Not to mention, the attention my silly lil project garnered was a lot. At least to me. I've had a semi popular writing blog before, and was no stranger to inbox asks, and how they pile up, or the notes that popular posts can get.

I was far too ambitious in all honesty, and once the glitz and glamor of a new project wore off, I hit a massive wall. Hard. It seemed that to actually work on HOCO was much like pulling teeth - whether it was writing, drawing, or even *thinking* about it, I found myself sinking further and further into a imposter syndrome of sorts.

And well, I guess making this announcement is sort of proving it right.

Even so, I've always known when to take a step back, when to settle down -- and now, I'm just making it official. I owe you all at least that much.

The blog will be staying up - I have no plans to delete it in the slightest. I'll just log out of it most likely - I'll still be around on my personal tumblr, where I'll hopefully start being more active there again.

Nothing could have prepared me for just how much care, how much love you guys have shown HOCO - so much so, it's still hard to believe. All the fanart, the fanfic, the memes - they're all saved to my phone, in their own album. Thank you to all who have made amazing creations for my silly characters, as well as the countless asks y'all have sent - maybe one day I'll be able to answer all of them.

I really hope one day I can return to this project with fresh eyes -- I'm hoping real, substantial time away from it will help that process. There are other, personal projects that I've been doing that have helped that creative spark again, as well as indulging in traditional fandom activities, mostly fanart. Unfortunately, I think it's safe to say that my time in the Yan VN community is over for the time being, at least until/if I start working on HOCO again. (Or whenever I play the latest updates of 14DWY - I am the Leon Fan Club President after all ^^).

I've been rambling too long, and I think it's time to close this chapter for now. Thank you all again - and one last Henry for the road. They were there since the beginning of HOCO in 2019, so it feels right for them to be here at the end.

[flowerakatsuka]

Do you have a fave hesokuri au or skit au and have you kuroba’d them 👀

HI EVAN, THANK YOU SM FOR THE ASK!!! 😊✨

and yes, i do!! a few actually, heh. i've talked a little bit about the youkai & denki mystery aus i have for kuroba before and i really love those, but i think my favorite might actually be their royalty / prince au. which i haven't really talked about before so uh. i hope you don't mind, but i'm gonna use this as a excuse to ramble about it.

i'll put my infodumping under a cut bc it might get long, but here's their designs for the au. 🤭

SO. kuroba comes from a commoner household, but because their grandfather was the royal gardener to the matsuno family and they acted as his apprentice, they've basically lived their entire life on the castle grounds in spite of their status. they've gotten to meet and come to befriend quite a few people of a higher social status than them, the most notable being the 2nd prince of the matsuno royal family, karamatsu.

they first met as children, when karamatsu ran away from his caretakers to hide in the gardens and cry by himself. kuroba had been helping with cleaning up the rose beds that day and stumbled upon him. they've always been the meddling type and can't leave others alone when they're upset so they sat with him and tried to comfort him to the best of their ability, ( even if it was just providing him company and a hand to squeeze while he cried. ) after that, karamatsu became very curious about kuroba and would often visit the gardens in the hopes of spending time with them. the two became very close over time, with him following them around the gardens as they worked and running to them whenever he needed a shoulder to cry on ( which they were always happy to provide. )

they're still very close as adults despite some things changing, like karamatsu adopting a more flashy personality to stand out more amongst his brothers and kuroba taking over their grandfather's role as royal gardener. a lot of the things stayed the same, though.

however, their close friendship starts posing some issues within the royal counsel. one of the princes having such an intimate relationship ( and obvious infatuation ) with a commoner is unsightly in the eyes of the nobility and could make them question the integrity & stability of the crown. so iyami, ( who's a sketchy noble adviser to king matsuzou, ) proposes that karamatsu be engaged to duchess dobusu to help quell the rumors going around about kuroba and him. matsuzou agrees and even though he tries to protest it, kara eventually agrees to go along with it for the sake of his family and kuroba.

when karamatsu tells them the news, kuroba takes it pretty well and congratulates him with a smile... or at least, that's the reaction he gets out of them. in reality, they're fucking devastated because they've been harboring feelings for him for years at that point. they already accepted the fact that they could never be together, but that doesn't make the reality of the situation hurt any less. still, they want to support karamatsu and be happy for them so they're taking the truth about their feelings for him to the grave. ( that's what they planned on doing, at least. )

they slowly drift apart after that ; karamatsu's visits to the gardens become less frequent, kuroba stops personally delivering fresh arrangments to karamatsu's quarters, they barely even greet each other when crossing paths. it doesn't help that iyami got into kuroba's ear, warning them that they should keep their distance from kara to preserve his reputation and not lose their job — which they really can't afford as the main breadwinner for their family. neither of them are happy with how things have changed, but there's not much they can do about it.

as karamatsu and dobusu's engagement party draws closer and kuroba has to help with the decorations, their discontent really bubbles to the surface. one of their noble friends, ( i haven't decided who yet lol, ) finds them crying and tries to comfort them, eventually convincing them to sneak into the party and dance with kara so they at least have one unforgettable memory of him to hold onto. with their help, they manage to do it with their identity hidden behind a mask.

things seem to go off without a hitch ; they'll be able to have to moment with karamatsu all for themself and basically no one will be the wiser. that is until they slip up and speak while dancing with him. they start to leave when he almost says their name, but he stops them and gives them the pine-shaped brooch he was wearing before letting them slip away. to make matters worse, iyami sees this all go down.

the events after that are a lot less plotted out, but i imagine some standard historical fantasy romance webtoon bullshit going down. like karamatsu trying to confront kuroba about that night, but them telling him to stop and leave them be. it's be some wild melodrama, which i do kinda live for.

the climax would probably be iyami staging some villainess-esque condemnation event to expose kuroba for sneaking into the party and get them kicked out of the castle. but queen matsuyo and some of the nobles kuroba had befriended come to their rescue. basically, they argue that if there's someone who's willing to be with karamatsu's annoying ass, then why would you force him onto someone else? none of the other nobles want him, please let kuroba have him so they don't have to deal with him. this includes dobusu, who agrees to give the royal family her duchy's support if they break off her engagement with karamatsu and let kuroba take him off her hands. so after getting matsuzou's approval, they live happily ever after theeeeeee end. there's probably other factors that could play into them getting together at the end, but yeah.

anyways thank you for coming to my rambling, i am so sorry it got this long. this is one of the aus i've thought about A LOT so i ended up having a lot to say. 😭

[lilacsbeeswax]

Could i request a story where Lorenzo and reader are siblings? And the slytherin boys are also like brothers to her. Except Theodore because he and reader are dating.

But like forgot that they had a date that evening and reader stood in the cold at hogsmead for almost 2 hours and came back to thr common room crying and Loreza askes her whats wrong and she tells him??

You can continue the stoie from here :))

Pairing: Enzo x sister!reader - Theo x reader

Notes: Gotta love 2 months of not posting 💀

Masterlist

——-

Hours. It has been hours since the time Theodore had told me he would arrive. Two to be exact, sitting on a cold bench waiting for him to come and say all the right things as usual.

It’s the dead of winter yet I can’t bring myself to leave. My fingertips turned numb a while ago and my nose had begun to run.

How could he forget? Am I that disposable to him? Am I not worth the effort? The thought alone caused hot tears to roll down my cheeks. The insecure questions kept racing back and forth through my mind. My breathing sped up and my brain felt as though it was rattling around my skull.

“Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.” I repeated, hugging my arms around my chest to self-soothe. It calms me enough to pull myself to my feet. Shakily breathing and still sobbing, I walk my sorry self all the way back to Hogwarts. Taking the most abandoned route I knew.

——-

By the time I made it into the Slytherin common room, I had hoped I’d be calmer, but tears still poured from my eyes regardless. I rushed through hoping to make it to my dorm without being seen by one of the boys.

I knew my plan had failed when I heard my brother’s voice calling me. When I didn’t stop he rushed over and stood in front of me.

“Y/n, why are you crying? What happened?” He asked.

I looked around the common room that was teeming with people before responding, “It’s nothing, Enzo.”

I tried to squeeze past him, but he blocked me. “It’s definitely not nothing.”

“Look, if we’re gonna talk about this can it be somewhere more private?” Tears continued to glide down my face. There was a massive pit in my stomach and I thought I might’ve thrown up.

Enzo led me up to my dorm and sat next to me on my bed. He wrapped his arm around and shoulder and squeezed me. “Now can we talk?” He asked.

My voice shook as I explained Theo not showing up to our date. I rambled until I ran out of tears, Enzo just sat there listening.

When I was done he hugged me closer and kissed the top of my head. He released me and announced, “I’m gonna go give Theodore a little visit.”

“Do you even know where he is?” I asked, standing and blocking Enzo’s exit.

“I know exactly where that nitwit is, come on.” He said, shoving me gently out of the way and rushing out the door. I scrambled to keep up as he half ran to their shared dorm.

Enzo sighed as he unlocked the door to reveal Theo passed out on his bed. Relief flooded through my chest, he hadn’t maliciously missed our date, he was just dead asleep. Annoyance replaced my sadness, as Enzo stepped aside and let me walk in closing the door behind me.

I gently sat on Theo’s bed before aggressively shaking him. He shot up with a gasp. “Good afternoon, jackass.” I smiled.

He rubbed the sleep from is eyes and half groaned, “What’s wrong baby?”

“I’ll give you a little refresher; you and me at Hogsmeade about 2 and a half hours ago.”

He sat still for a moment, before his eyes widened. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry Y/n!”

“You better be I stood outside in the cold for almost 2 hours waiting for you!”

“This isn’t an excuse, but I had fallen back asleep after quidditch. I wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry, amore mio.” He stood up and walked to me, grabbing my face and cradling it gently. “I would never purposefully stand you up.”

“I know. It made me really sad when you didn’t show up though.”

“And I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I love you, principessa.” He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into a hug and a kiss.

“I love you too, idiot.”

——-

Masterlist

[awgeezitsthetoiletnator]

your mind !!!!!!!! literally it's that its the desperate plea of them both being like this meant something to us both??? it didn't just irrevocably change my world view alone right? and now i've got to pretend to be normal about it because we are forever linked in the same circle like!?!?!?!

this is why i feel so unnormal about them both- Tracker being a crutch for Kristen when they were dating because her whole life has been her living a lie. She's moving in because she can't be with her parents but I'm sure she wonders if it's just because they are girlfriends. I wonder how Kristen feels about living in Mordred and Jawbone being one of her guardians (not even mentioning how she struggles playing like a child role- being that shield for her brothers and how we often see her square up to Sandra Lynn) now they aren't together, like does she feels out of place there? I also think that feeling of being out of place was echoed in the recent episode of oh Kristen's address hasn't been changed either- like none of the parental figures in Mordred did that for her- especially Jawbone who works at the school and would have know that was kinda important.

Similarly I think Kristen provided that role on Sophmore year (even being in a messy arc) to Tracker of being that support and the one who does listen to her. Like I wonder how Tracker felt when Adaine & then Fig joined the household- because she's no longer getting priority attention from Jawbone since he's so busy. Yes she's very independent but that's because she's had to be. Even looking after Jawbone before he got better- like they did live together she's probably seen the ins and outs of all his business. The way I see her definitely has a heavy influence from you recommending scream by beach bunny for Tracker because wow- just incredible no notes. Her just moving on to looking after Kristen- like to make herself feel useful and needed- like when she gets brought along for spring break she's like oh I thought you were going to abandon me. Like. Head in hands. My poor girl. (Tracker being an npc is so hard i need all her lore now brennan)

I think it's also why it's so like explosive with the withholding stuff about Jawbone because her and Kristen have become this codependent team because there is so much going on its like oh your my person right now and you still did this, you know all these things and yet my feelings weren't considered & were pushed aside.

Like even after this happens- Kristen then starts unravelling Tracker's religion through finding Cassandra. Which tears them apart. They are both so influential in each other's lives its so crazy.

Apologies for the ramble as this might all be so incoherent but i just have so many thoughts on them and their dynamics- but I think it's like the tragedy aspect of it all that is so aligned with this music. Like the greater the risk the higher the reward and all that- they are built up to be so life changing that the fall consistently follows them. Like we haven't spoke in months but I'm still happy that your religious uprising is going well- even in my commune with my own Goddess you still linger there too. (Not even getting into the Goddess being sisters it's just so much)

Like the Bang the Doldrums line of better off as lovers and not the other way around vs Kristen trying to be normal about calling them friends to her cleric teacher. Just rattling them in my brain for real. I also like Bros by Wolf Alice for them because it's such energy of like If i did come back would you still be there? I know it's selfish of me to ask but would you do it anyway. And definitely less emo but Renegade by Big Red Machine gives them so much. like specifically the post chorus and second verse. again sorry for the ramble but these new episodes are just making me think so intensely about them :P

please never ever apologize for sending such thoughtful asks to my inbox!! i’m sorry it took me so long to reply, but you gave me so much for think about…

- you’re so right about how layered and complicated kristen’s feelings on living at mordred must be now. they were probably a lot easier to overlook when she and tracker were together. the current status shift of “i’m living with my partner” to “i’m crashing with my friends” is wild to me. while i think sandra lynn and jawbone do their best to be good parents for the teens living in their house, there’s just so many of them that it’s probably be easier to parent the ones that usually lean on them for help (adaine) or show clear red flags (fig). (i know this is most likely because beardsley was the one who started the tremors bit during the last episode, but the way jawbone leapt up to protect adaine and fig but not kristen gave me pause. not because jawbone (or brennan for that matter) did anything wrong, but it made me wonder how many little things like that must happen every day in front of kristen and how she might feel about it). given kristen’s reluctance to their parenting and tracker’s personal, recent experience with leaving the church of sol, tracker probably seemed like the best person equipped to support kristen, even if it put her in a weird, uncomfortable corner where she is constantly caring for the person who is supposed to be her main carer as well - although it’s never as reciprocal as it should be. tracker leans heavily on her own experience to try and help kristen, which is why she works so hard to support kristen in establishing her church. she wants kristen to experience the deep, primal connection to YES!? that she experiences with galicaea, but it’s not the necessarily the same situation as kristen is the sole cleric responsible for her gods. due to how much is resting only on her shoulders, kristen’s issues always seem to eclipse tracker’s, but that doesn’t make it fair. tracker tries to help in the way she knows how and it’s still not enough. i’m so excited to learn more about why tracker wants to talk to kristen in the present day. in part, it’s probably because at some point they will be living in the same house again and they should be on good terms. but i also wonder if tracker sees the same pattern with kristen’s gods that cassandra does, and wants to offer kristen an out of her current situation by asking her to join the wolfsong revival. i don’t think there’s any universe out there where kristen would have ever chosen galicaea over cassandra when that path was first offered to her in sophomore year, but tracker could argue that lots of things have changed since that initial offer. in joining her, kristen would be one of many clerics and share the burden of responsibility for keeping a god alive. and maybe that’s a way they can actually be together again. 👀

- kristen’s aversion to being parented is so fascinating to me that it needs to be its own list item. it feels so relatable as an experience of an eldest daughter who’s been parentified for longer than she can remember. because i don’t even think it’s an aversion to being parented really - i think she’s expecting to be treated as a child in a way that’s familiar to her. when you combine kristen’s eldest daughter position with her status as the golden child due to her connection to helio, it’s not a far reach to say that the applebees treated kristen closer to another adult in the family than a child when she lived at home. i’m guessing she was privy to way more information and it was her job to shield and distract her brothers from it or filter it in a way that her parents approved. this is one of the reasons why i think she struggled so much while questioning her faith - her parents had always communicated with her in a straight and simple fashion and this suddenly shifted to unsatisfactory, emotional answers to her questions. (granted, i don’t think any answers the applebees would have given would be satisfactory based on how stuck they are in their worldview, but they jumped really quickly into just shutting kristen down instead of actually hearing her out) i think she’s seeking out that kind of straightforward parent-child relationship she used to have with her parents when she approaches sandra lynn after the tryst with garthy, like “tell me what’s going on and we’ll find the best way to share this with the rest of the kids.” i know that moment is followed by a “classic ally chaos moment” of kristen asking for whiskey, but i wonder if there’s a way to recontextualize it here. maybe she sees herself falling into an old pattern. maybe she can’t resist the temptation of actually being treated like a child instead of a pseudo-adult. maybe she’s worried that whatever answer sandra lynn could give her isn’t worth her positioning herself like this. no one wants sandra lynn and kristen to bond this season more than me i’m awake at night wishing as hard as i can believe me when i say this but i do think that she’s still trying to be a shield to the best of her ability from afar. i think the underlying question behind kristen’s decisions now when it comes to her brothers is “how do i turn the selfish action of leaving them behind into the best decision for everyone in the end without compromising my own autonomy or putting them in a situation where they get hurt?” she stays away from the applebees house so that her brothers don’t have to deal with the tension she would inevitably bring with her. she leaves them gold but without a note so her parents can’t interrogate them about their contact with her. and even in the last episode - choosing to simply confuse her parents and keep her cool instead of actively arguing with them is interestingly as calculated as it is chaotic because she probably comes off as less of a threat to bucky’s devotion to helio and more as a neutral eccentric. for now, it’s easier on everyone in that house if she is cast as someone whose head isn’t screwed on straight rather than a complete villain.

- i too would love to know more about tracker. all of your questions about how she might have felt when jawbone’s attention shifted from her to adaine and fig are right on the money. add all the codependency with kristen to the mix, it makes me wonder if tracker feels like she missed out on having deeper, possibly sisterly friendships with adaine and fig. i think trackerbees being so joined at the hip resulted in her holding fig and adaine at arm’s length as “kristen’s friends” as opposed to new family members. it’s telling that she only chose to leave mordred once she was certain that she could trust that jawbone would be safe with the people surrounding him AND that they were taking care of him as much as he was taking care of them. i don’t think she was waiting for something to go wrong per say, but the fact is that something DID go wrong and her instinct to hang around was justified. she watches sandra lynn and jawbone reconcile and that point in time happens to coincide with her decision to start the wolfsong revival and then she’s finally ready to leave with ragh at her side - the only other teen she allowed herself to get close to probably by accident bc they spent a good deal of time together when the PCs were off on bad kids only mini-missions during spring break. (also how are they going to share ragh. i’m hoping it’s all cordial in the end but how do you share a person who was a bodyguard / confidant for one of you but also was the cofounder of the lgbtq+ student union / honorary party member for the other for much longer than that. how do you do that) i’m so curious about her place in the birth order, but given that we’ve never heard about any siblings, i’m inclined to believe she’s an only child and it seems to fit. i’m an eldest daughter with a couple of only children as best friends and the dynamic of how straightforward tracker is in her actions while kristen is constantly playing 4D chess in her head to figure out the best solution for everyone rings very true for me. we know that her parents kicked her out after she was bitten, but she didn’t stray super far - not even outside the same pantheon of gods. granted, I think the lycanthropy made galicaea a natural fit for her, but i don’t think the journey to get there took as long as kristen’s journey to YES!? two sides of the same coin and all that

- ANYWAYS. the music of it all. i completely agree with your assessment of the tragedy and risk that emo music usually lends itself to, but i also like your other recs here! i was racking my brain trying to think of where i’d heard bros before - it was featured in the life is strange prequel (that also happens to center around another tragic sapphic couple). i absolutely love renegade for them and it made me think of “the 1” - another swift / dessner collab that feels very of the moment for them. i think about them a lot when i’m listening to adult mom. most songs i feel apply directly to one or the other, but i feel like “checking up” from their most recent album feels very attuned to their relationship right before they broke up when tracker was first on the road.

for anyone who has made it this far down, thank you for coming for my ted talk! i guess i have a lot more thoughts about these two than i knew. thank you again @sabrirene for sending this in!

[believemetheodore]

Northern Attitude pt. 1

Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton

Divorce is hard. it doesn't matter if you're the one who got left, or you're the one doing the leaving. When an unexpected blizzard puts a dangerous twist in Ted's hiking adventures he's rescued by an axe-wielding, lumber-chopping, blonde angel. Oh, and there's only one bed. Warnings: divorce mentions, mentions of Ted's dad, snow storms, let me know if you want me to add anything.

thank you, thank you, thank you to @scuttle-buttle for accidentally inspiring this fic, and to @thisismysecondrodeo for encouraging this madness! @exit-goat thank you, as always, for listening to me ramble

Fic navigation

Divorce is hard. it doesn't matter if you're the one who got left, or you're the one doing the leaving. 

Michelle went on a beach vacation with some friends after the paperwork was finalized.

A trip she'd planned before the ink of his signature had a chance to dry. Not that he blames her. He's seen first-hand the stress the last few years of their marriage had caused. The good lord knows he's gained his fair share of grey hairs too. His temples sprinkled, salt and pepper where a year ago he'd have been lucky to find ten grey strands total. But Michelle has always been better at knowing what she needs and looking after herself. Ted has admired that quality about her since they met, but he can’t help but feel a little bit lost knowing that right now leaving him is what she needs. 

Ted hadn't been offended by Michelle's vacation. It gave him an extra week of the summer break with their son. He'd spent it wisely; taking the time to visit his Ma, knowing how desperate she's always been to spend time with her only grandchild. Ted and Henry spent their days fishing, and helping to fix the front porch, welcomed each night with a home-cooked meal and enough pie to last a lifetime. 

Ted hadn't thought he needed to take a vacation. Henry started school, and Ted returned to work. But, with winter right around the corner, the l impending weight of spending Christmas alone, and six months of introspection under his belt Ted wonders if he too should've found himself a nice beach somewhere. 

Ted's pal Beard is the first to recognise the downturn in his daily disposition. As a great friend and potentially a former spy not much escapes Beard's notice. 

“You're like a Wigwam and a Teepee, Ted”.

“Too tense?” 

“Bingo. Your shoulders haven't lost contact with your ears in days. Your stress has stress. Cut yourself some slack, my friend”.

Ted sighed, “not sure how to go about it, Beardo”. 

“Take a break. Go on a vacation. Michelle did it,” Beard shrugged, as if it was obvious, “I know you think that weighing yourself down with all of this stress is some kind of penance. But, you're not on time out. There's no guilty party here”.

Beard raised some good points, and Ted swallowed them down with a bottle of beer, rolling the pros and cons of all his own considerations around on his tongue. He's never been very good at looking out for himself and he's sorry Beard has to do it for him. 

The trouble, Ted realized in talking to his friend, later on, was never whether he could take a vacation, but rather, where would he go?

There's a lot of the world he'd like to see, but a week or less doesn't seem like nearly enough to do any of his sight-seeing bucket list justice.

Resorts are nice, a chance to enjoy a tropical island breeze and warm sandy beaches. But, he's always burned easily, and with all the thoughts rattling around his head, lounging isn't an option. He’s learned that he needs to keep moving to help release some of his restless energy. While he doesn't pretend to understand the science of it, his mind does seem more compassionate, and each conclusion and assumption feels easier to process when his feet are moving as fast as his brain. 

so, now here he is, hiking through the woods in the middle of winter.

After much consideration, Ted signed himself up for a 5-day, 4-night hiking retreat. 

Day one was spent with a group of fellow adventurers, and a park guide going over survival tips, and trail options; how and where to find help; what to do when encountering a pack of coyotes. Night one is spent in tents provided by the park, falling asleep beneath the stars with a belly full of baked beans and hotdogs cooked over an open fire. 

In the light of day, Ted admires a half-frozen waterfall where one stream becomes another. He takes the time to listen to the birds still chirping in the trees despite the chilly weather, and he stops to munch on a protein bar, and rehydrate while he watches a chipmunk running around looking for snacks. He wishes he was allowed to feed the little guy, but he was told multiple times during the orientation day that sharing snacks with the wildlife is very much against the park rules.

Unlike the first night, Ted will be alone for the rest of his trip. But, fortunately, he doesn't need to set up his own campsite. For the next couple of nights, he’ll stop at the various cabins available to himself and the other hikers in the group. All of the little cottages are set up at convenient checkpoints along the trails. The bare bones of a structure. No hotel by any means. But, it's better than sleeping on the ground. 

As night falls, Ted watches the sunset. The pinks and oranges cast a brilliant glaze across the dusting of snow on the ground.  The stars are just as brilliant a sight, shining brighter, and brighter over the blanket of a darkening sky. 

He lets himself into the nearest vacant cabin with the key code he was given for the week. It's simple but cozy. A cot and fireplace in one corner, a small kitchenette and table for two in the other, and most importantly, a bathroom complete with indoor plumbing and a shower. 

Ted appreciates the quiet. The muffled sound of owls and nighttime critters outside is a nice distraction from his worries and anxieties. Laying in his sleeping bag, on the cot, he stares up at the ceiling, tracing the beams and the knots in the wood with his eyes. After his active day, his body is heavy, but sleep evades him. 

With his eyes shut he watches memories of the last camping trip he took with his father play like a melancholy highlight reel. He only remembers the good parts of those days. His father's laughter, and singing songs by the campfire.

 Ted had been 14 when the two of them drove halfway across the country pitching their tents in 3 different national parks along the way. It had been one of the few times his dad had been able to get time off of work and they took full advantage of it.

 At the time Ted hadn't bothered to take inventory of all the memories they were making together. It was just another spring break. 

At the time, Ted only saw it as a week away from his friends. Days he wouldn't be able to spend at the mall or arcade. He'd been irritated by the lost opportunities to flirt with the cutest girl at school, who happened to work at the ice cream shop around the corner from his house. 

Now, he can see the buried sadness seeping from his father. He can understand how desperately his dad wanted to spend time with him. 

Ted regrets viewing his father as a hindrance to his plans because now he'd do a whole heck of a lot to talk to the man again, to be able to apologize for all the moments he took for granted. But, hindsight is 20/20 and he tries not to hold too much against his younger self. 

He decided years ago when his son Henry was born that he'd do a better job at communicating. He promised himself he'd remind his little boy how much their time together meant to him so that Henry would never have to guess at his motivations. Now, more than ever, Ted hopes Henry knows how much he loves him, even when he's not around every day.

Directing his attention to happier thoughts, and lighter feelings, Ted's chest swells with pride when he thinks about the last time he and Henry saw each other. 

His insomnia left him reeling, as it continues to do most nights, and Henry had found him sitting alone at the kitchen table.

“You've gotta count sheep, Dad!” Henry told him, “that's what mom tells me to do”.

“Your mama's a smart cookie, but I don't know if I can count enough sheep to fall asleep, buddy”.

“Sure you can!” Henry insisted dragging him by the hand back to his bedroom, “I'll help you”.

Henry made it to 12 sheep before drifting off with his face smushed against Ted's shoulder. Ted counted 167 more sheep before finding sleep. 

Ted counts sheep now too. Only 72.

The world is silent when he wakes up. The whole forest has been trapped beneath a heavy fall of snow, glittering white, and untouched. A marshmallow world, Ted grins to himself as he boils water at the fireplace to make a flask of coffee. The small, square breakfast table is big enough for him to spread his park map and trail guide. He traces his path for the day with his finger committing convenient resting points to memory while he enjoys his hot oatmeal for breakfast. 

It's the first time since Ted and Michelle separated that he's felt truly relaxed while he goes about his morning. He focuses on himself, taking the time to trim his mustache and brush his teeth. He makes sure to layer up more than he usually does, expecting the day to be extra chilly. 

He's got about 5 hours of walking ahead of him today. Half of his planned trek is uphill, the other half is downhill on the other side. Ideally, he'll take his time, stopping to take more photos than he did yesterday. 

The sun is still rising slowly, just touching the tops of the trees, when he heads out with his camera hanging around his neck, and his coffee still piping hot in the thermal mug. 

A deep breath of cold winter air fills his lungs, and it tickles his nose, but it smells like moving on-- moving forward. 

He's almost at the top of the hill when the snow starts to fall. It begins slow, light fluffy flakes landing in his eyes lashes. But it grows heavier-- icier. It's cutting and borders on painful as it hits his cheeks, the wind howling around him. 

Stopping for lunch isn't on his list of priorities anymore, instead, he focuses on getting sheltered in the nearest cabin. By the time he's descending, the weather is worse. It's snow like he's never seen before, and his visibility is poor. 

Wet socks are a bad feeling, and Ted starts to regret his choice to take a hiking trip in the winter. His knees ache with the task of shuffling through the deepening snow. But disaster strikes when he makes contact with a patch of ice. With his footing lost, he tumbles. Falling not only to the ground but off the side of the trail. Somersaulting, rolling down the forest incline like a mustachioed snowball.

The world is all white, and he struggles to see even the outline of the trees or the grey sky overhead between his rotations. His shoulder hits what he can only assume is a rock, and he's sent flying. Ted hits the ground with a tremendous thud, and the polar white world turns black. 

[plasticferal]

chasing highs | rafe cameron.

summary: you’re his lover, and he’s your brother’s best friend. both the secrecy and his addiction cause tension in your hidden relationship.

authors note: 2.4k words. explicit language, mentions substance abuse, angst and weaponry. 

soundtrack: sober, childish gambino.

you struggle to support the grocery bags that are filled to the brim, and tearing at the seams. you use your elbow to pry the door open with a struggle and quickly dump the brown bags on the counter. you groan at the sight, the house is in disarray. empty glasses, crushed cans and powder residue scatter across the wooden table. the smell of dry grass that’s been tracked along the floors and a contrasting clean linen fills the small space. 

“at least he did the washing,” you run the back of your hand across your forehead, looking around with a fatigued sigh. you begin unpacking everything into cupboards. your arrangement is disturbed by a banging at the door that rattles the wall, it seems desperate. you turn around to pull the handle, revealing rafe. you roll your eyes, murmuring an acknowledgement before leaving the door open for him to let himself in. “country club,”

he steps inside, looking around and acting neurotic. “only barry calls me that,” he counters. “well barry’s not here, so,” you fade off the last part of your sentence, not entirely being interested in conversation. you strain your toes to place a cereal box on the top shelf. rafe silently stands behind you, his chest pressed to your shoulder as he takes it from your hand to put it away, being able to reach with ease. you feel his warm hand crawl around the side of your hip. you grip the edge of the counter that’s underneath you, feeling his breath trickle down your neck.

“i missed you, you know?” he spoke softly. he smelt like faded cologne and dirt, an overall musky scent. it was oddly comforting. 

you shrug him off and turn back to pull vegetables from the bags, excusing his body to reach the fridge. he follows your every action. 

“did i do something?” he looks confused by your dismissive nature, and sudden sharp tone.

“wanna tell me what you’re here for?” you place the packaged food in the cold drawers of the fridge, slamming them closed a little more dramatically than intended. you know his answer, you just need to reassure yourself.

“i just, i just need a little bit-” he speaks apprehensively. you quickly turn around to look at him, your eyes are heavy and filled with dejection. you lick your lips and bob your head with thought, letting out a bitter chuckle.

“he’s all out,” you look up at him, “house is empty.” and once again, you go back to the groceries. rafe stands still for a moment, rubbing his knuckles. you can hear the friction of his skin.

“i know he’s got something in here, y/n,” he looks around, and you can hear the shake in his vowels. his heavy steps take over the creaking floor, a cabinet slamming, making you jump slightly.

“did you not hear me, or are you not listening? there’s nothing in here,” you follow the noise to catch the sight of rafe rummaging through any door that opens. you to reach his shoulder to pull him away from a brown t.v unit, knowing he won’t give up until he’s been physically stopped. the moment you reach forward he pushes your hand away, grunting and bypassing you.

“are you fucking serious?” shock seeping through. he freezes, hands digging through his hair as he bounces back and forth between his feet. he releases air from his nose in frustration, taking a step closer to you.

“i’m sorry, i, i just need you to help me out,” he lends a hand forward in hopes of taking you into his arms, but you step back.

“help you feed the drug addiction that my brother started?”

“god, not right now,” he shakes his head, shutting his eyes tight and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“help you come to realisation that you have a problem?” you continue, knowing that it’s only getting to under his skin more.

“i don’t have a fucking problem!” he screams. not a yell. a scream with chest, an angry reaction. a reaction you could handle from your brother, arguments often occurring in the house. but not from rafe. not from the man you go out of your way to protect and love. 

“get out.” your voice is stern and your eyes are stinging. his tension quickly diminishes. 

“i didn’t mean- i didn’t mean to yell, alright?” he bites his words back, fighting that belligerent tone that previously lashed out. 

“i’m not repeating myself,” you shake your head, looking to the door. 

“sweetheart, i’m sorry. i’m sorry, okay? i’m just on edge,” he rambles on his justification but it only seems to dig himself a deeper hole. 

“yeah, that’s the only reason you’re here,” you mumble to yourself, looking at your hands while you squeeze the tips of your fingers. a distraction.

“what’s wrong with you today? talk to me,” he progresses a step closer, careful not to approach too fast, knowing you’d turn away.

“rafe, i know you have a lot going on but god, i don’t want you to pretend to want me if you care more about chasing a high,” you finally spill how you feel, wanting to take it all back the second you do, not because you didn’t mean it, because you truly didn’t want the confrontation. you look up to see his face drop, mouth open a jar and eye’s grave. 

“are you kidding me? you’re the only fucking person on this earth i care about,” he speaks with a bounce of a laugh, more out of shock and disbelief that he has to say it aloud.

“i know i have a problem, alright?” he hold his palms together and digs his fingers into his chest, the fixed intensity on his face. he licks his lips, rotating back and forth between his heels before pausing to take a deep breath. he tests the waters in stepping closer to you, and this time you let him. you allow him into your space, admittedly craving his touch. his hand cups around your upper arm, sliding down your skin before his index finger slips around the belt loop of your jeans. he pulls your lower half forward until you’re touching bodies, and his forehead rests against the crown of your head.

“i’m gonna try harder, i promise,” his voice is soft, and assertive. it’s difficult to feel indifferently about him. you want a reason to be mad, a reason to get him out of the house before you run into more trouble, but you know he’s being genuine. in that moment, there were no doubts or fears.

“okay,” your voice faint, letting yourself fully sink into his touch. you reach up to drape your hands over his shoulders, fingers playing with the dirty blond hair that falls messily past his ears. 

“i love you, you know that right?” he speaks, mouth now hovering over your lips. you laugh sweetly, pecking the side of his face. “yeah, i do actually,” your arrogant response prompts a poke from him into your side and you push his bicep with a giggle.

“shit, i think i fell in love with you the first day we met,” he pulls your body back to him, swaying you both back and forth. he moves when the gears in his head are ticking, can never keep still. so you allow your body to dance around with him while he ponders.

“you’re lying” you roll your eyes, assuming he was over compensating from the heat you put on him a few minutes prior. “no, i’m not,” he breathes out a smile.

“do you remember that day?” you dip your eyebrow at him.

“of course i do,”

six months earlier.

you slip into that grey shirt that hangs barely past your thighs, causing the shorts underneath to disappear. the heat within the metal surrounded home was intensified by the midday sun, making you irritated and desperate for a cold drink. you grab a can of soda from a cooler, not being your preferred means of refreshment, but better than warm tap water. 

as you wipe the corner of your mouth slightly, you simmer in the feeling of the icy feeling in your palm. your moment of serenity is quickly disturbed by the front door being pushed open harshly, making you freeze in your tracks. your first thought was that it would be barry, but upon realising it was a complete stranger, your next thought was to grab that gun barry keeps under the couch cushion. 

“barry, i need-” the tall mystery man speaks with heavy breaths, not being aware of your presence. 

“who the hell are you?” he sounds mad to be confused, and you’re almost amused by it. given you weren’t afraid of strangers coming and going from the place, it not being an unusual occurrence, typically they have courtesy to knock.

“who are you?” you respond, standing your ground comfortably. the tall male washes his gazes over your body slowly, but snaps out of it swiftly.

“ah, rafe, rafe cameron,” he speaks quick, almost as if he has something more important to say other than his name. you let it sink in for a while, being more than thrilled to waste the home invaders time as you sip your drink. the name sounded familiar, and judging from his attire, you put the pieces together.

“oh! country club, yeah i’ve heard a lot about you,” you chuckle to yourself, knowing barry and him have a love-hate relationship.

“what have you heard?” he probes, face now taut.

“that you have money. no wonder you hang around here so often,” you return that judgemental glance he pulled on you, noting the polo shirt, then back up to his face. his hair fell over it, and his features appeared almost too perfect. it was unnerving. “and yet i’ve never seen you here?” rafe responds, still lost at the interaction he’s enduring.

“you’re way better looking than i thought you’d be,” you try to mutter, but he’s engrossed in your exchange.

“pardon?” he nods his head forward. you smile densely, placing your drink down on the coffee table behind you then waving your hand toward the couch.

“i said take a seat, make yourself comfortable,” completely dismissing his question.

you’re seated on the sinking lounge, while he opts for the single armchair beside it. you’re able to see each other this way. he taps is fingers impatiently against the wooden armrests.

“are you like his girlfriend or something?” he strings together with scepticism. you bite your cheek with a chuckle.

“sister,” you assure. he nods slowly, giving a look that says, ‘my bad’ for getting that wrong.

“good to know,” the words were under his breath but you heard. and you’re sure he wanted you to.

“so did barry say he left something for me, or?” rafe rubs his thighs, shifting in his seat. it slipped your mind, his initial agenda for being there, but you quickly come back to earth. you huff, standing up silently to retrieve the bag that barry did in fact inform you was going to get picked up that day. you walk into the bedroom that has a curtain as a replacement for a door, reluctantly taking it into your hands.

re-entering the room, you throw it onto the table, falling back into your seat. rafe leaps toward it like it was his lifeline. you rolled your eyes, pulling your knees up to your body, hugging them. 

“that shit’s gonna ruin your life,” you voice. 

“yeah well,” he sniffs, tucking the white packet into his pocket.

“you can thank your brother when that happens,” he gives a hopeless response, with attitude. he stands from his seat, and you follow, making your way back over to the front door. 

you wanted to respond, but you’d be getting yourself involved in a sensitive topic. rafe halts between the door frame, his tall figure blocking most of the natural sunlight. you stand in front of him, one hand on the handle prepared to close it behind him, and this time lock it. you’re gazing up at him, wondering why he’s blankly staring at you. 

“what?” you question, toying with the handle, apprehensive of what he’ll respond with. 

“you’re nothing like him, are you?” his voice is gentle, almost like he’s only speaking loud enough for himself to hear it. your eyes are locked and it’s becoming an overwhelming feeling. you break eye contact, looking past him. there’s a sense of sadness that takes over. having always been a juxtaposition to your sibling, but often being associated, mean’t that someone seeing past the stereotype was a pleasant change. you shake your head, indicating a clear no. he nods, understanding. the silence spoke volumes.

“good. you’re too pretty for that shit,” and with that, his back was turned and he was slipping a black helmet on, momentarily returning to a stranger.

present day.

"and i still believe that,” he brushes a loose strand of hair from your eye. “so pretty,”

you’re fascinated by him. by the way you can tell that stash he was losing himself over has left his thoughts, and for a moment you remember the connection you two have. how powerful it was when he was with you, entrenched in your company.

“i know you’re trying, rafe,” you whisper, and his grip tightens. how much you believed your own words was uncertain, but the hope seemed stronger than any doubt.

“you’re the only high i wanna chase,” he uses his thumb to lift your face to him before he trails his touch along your bottom lip, gently prying your mouth open. he leans down and attaches your lips, yourself pushing toward him to deepen the kiss. you feel him smile against your mouth before you cup his jaw lightly to seperate.

“if barry comes home and you’re all over me, he’s gonna put a bullet in your head,” you look into his eyes. they’re glistening and bright, a drastic difference to how dark they were when he first arrived. 

“i’ll take my chances,” before wrapping his warm hand around the curve of your neck, pulling you into another kiss, lasting for what felt an eternity.

the body heat between you intensifies. rafe rolling his hips against you every now and then, urging a response from you, and though you’re aware of the risk of that front door flying open, you dig your nails into his shoulder blades. earning a desperate groan from rafe, you’re utterly intoxicated by his touch, becoming lost and unbothered by any risk or fear.

for a brief moment you understand what he feels when that substance runs through his veins and why he chases it. in your own way, you understand that high.

[squishmallow36]

Quantum Gender: The Essay

Before we get started: I took an intro to quantum computing class two years ago so I’m a little rusty on those details, and I’m not going to pretend I know how gender works. I was just avoiding going to sleep and thought of this. It’s been rattling around inside my head for the past many months. I think it kind of started when I was trying to drive into my brain that gender is not a spectrum so let’s add a whole nother dimension and quantum weirdness.

    Any questions because I explained something the most complicated way I possibly could? Please come ask. I’m happy to ramble and then make no sense you tune me out and then just nod and say it answered your question when it absolutely did not. 

    Now, on to the actual essay!

    Today, we’re gonna learn about quantum computing, then we’re gonna realize that the Bloch sphere can be applied to gender. I’m gonna put the bulk of this under the cut. 

@winterfireice you encouraged me to do this, and here it is.

So. Quantum computing. Step one: get a theoretical understanding of how classical computers work. 

    Classical computers include things like phones, tablets, laptops, computers, even things like handheld calculators. I’m almost willing to bet if you don’t know what a classical computer is, that’s the only kind you’ve interacted with. They all work with a system of 1s and 0s called bits (8 of them is called a byte), and these bits are manipulated by logic gates. I could go into all of the gates (not, and, nand, or, xor, nor) and their truth tables, but that’s kind of a waste of both of our times. 

    An important one is the NOT gate which if 0 is input, 1 is output, and if 1 is input, 0 is output. This will be analogous to the pauli X gate we might encounter later. This is the only one of the classical logic gates that has that ability, because you can take the output and find the input with complete certainty. The others lose information which is uh not ideal. Or possible. Conservation of quantum information and all that. (A fancy word for a reversible operator is Hamiltonian operator) 

    Okay, that wraps up that unit. Instead of bits, quantum computers use qubits. Very creative naming system. And instead of 0s and 1s, qubits can be this whole mess, stolen from the one, the only, wikipedia: 

    No, don’t run away! It’s not that bad, I promise! It’s only a bloch sphere. 

    I did edit it a bit because it’s easier than trying to direct you to things while you have no clue what’s going on. The Bloch sphere is a sphere with radius 1. If you remember the unit circle from like trig, this is just the more annoying 3d cousin of that. 

    At the top and bottom, there are labels |0> and |1>. These are pronounced ket 0 and ket 1. The reason why is called bra-ket or Dirac notation, and kets means that it is a column vector. I’m not going to type that here because it would be difficult and it really doesn’t matter. A bra would look like <0| if you find the need to know that. In terms of quantum computing, it’s used to signal when you’re talking about a quantum state. 

    This is the z-axis if I refer to it sometime later, and |0> and |1> are orthogonal to one another. I know that normally means it’s 90 degrees apart and no amount of not-to-scale geometry problems can get it /that/ wrong, but it’s a Hilbert space which just basically means we can do whatever we want. It also means it has an inner product, which is a math thing with, like, vectors and stuff that I don’t want to deal with right now. 

    Then let’s go to the x-axis. This is where typing things out is gonna start to get messy, so I have added another picture of the |+> and |-> (read as plus and minus. I thunk tumblr autocorrected to an arrow but it should be a minus sign) states. 

    Oh wait, I forgot to explain superposition! Sorry, sorry. If you’ve heard of Schrödinger’s cat and feel confident, you can skip over this. If you haven’t, hold on, I’ll explain it. So this is a THOUGHT experiment (no cats were harmed in the making of this experiment) where a cat is put in a box. Also in this box is a radioactive element and some poisonous gas. There is a 50/50 chance at the radioactive element decaying, which will release a hammer, breaking the glass and killing the cat. 

    Then, when you remember to come back, you don’t know if the cat is alive or dead, so in quantumland, it’s both alive and dead until you open the box. (The qubit is the cat and |+> and |-> are alive and dead). Opening the box is measurement, which destroys the quantum state, collapsing it down to |0> or |1>. The 50/50 number is only true along the horizontal dashed equator-y line on the bloch sphere, elsewhere, it’ll have different numbers depending on the…latitude? Z-component? You get the idea? 

    There’s a whole thing with square roots and amplitudes and just, like, don’t ask. I don’t know anymore and I’m not sure I care. It has something to do with the math of everything and I don’t like math. I have a math test tomorrow I’m ignoring. 

    Then the y axis and its |i> and |-i> states are very similar except there’s an i in front of the |1> on my beautiful drawing. We didn’t really go into a lot of detail on this one. And you can kind of ignore the theta (θ) and psi (φ) in the middle. Don’t worry about those. 

    Brain hurt yet? Me too. 

Gender time. You can probably see where some of this is going already. 

    So |0> I’m gonna assign to female and |1> I’m gonna assign to male. One can initialize a qubit to either of these two values (theoretically, experimentally it goes to 0 and then a pauli x gets it to 1) but it isn’t a perfect system and it sometimes doesn’t do what you want it to do. That’s kind of a theme with anything quantum. (That is the part that’s analogous to agab) 

     Binary trans men and trans women would be taking the initialized qubit and applying a pauli X on it. Nonbinarity is where things begin to get a little messy with my analogy and I apologize if your personal identity doesn’t work with this. If you can see a way to improve it, you know how to rb things. The plus state could be thought of as bigender or another multigender or pangender identity. Then, the minus state could be thought of as agender. 

   I’m not sure what I can do for the |i> and |-i> states, partially because the i does stand for imaginary, and I’m sure you can see why that could be a little iffy. But I feel like one of these could be genderqueer in the way S describes it, as not quite nonbinary but also not quite binary? I’m not entirely sure how to describe it, but it’s not a linear combination of gender or completely genderless nonbinary that the trinary is creating. 

    Then the other one I’m gonna say can be xenogenders? I know there’s a lot of them, but this metaphor can be adjusted as necessary for whichever one you’d like to implement. Like I said, we didn’t really work a whole lot with the y axis, so this isn’t quite as together as the rest of it. (That was a lie nothing is ever together) 

    If you remember the measurement bit from above (no you don’t, it went in one ear and out the other, i’m sure) you can kind of see that this is how people will perceive a cisn’t identity, minus the part where the quantum state is lost. That doesn’t seem to be how that works. 

    Then, I think finally but who knows, I’m gonna have to explain a little more quantum. I’m sorry for my existence, I thought this was done too. Basically quantum teleportation is a thing and I don’t wanna go find my old notes. Input will be α|0> + β|1> and a pair of entangled qubits with one at one place and one in another, and the important thing at the end is that there are four possible states which are α|0> + β|1>, α|0> - β|1>, α|1> + β|0>, and α|1> - β|0> and it requires two classical qubits to tell the receiver to mess with the qubit that’s sent over. 

    It’s a big long thing but it’s basically just embodying the fact that you can know details about your gender but not exactly know what it is. That’s me. 

    Okay, I lied. One more thing. Qubits can decohere, meaning the Bloch sphere might not be so much of a sphere anymore. So nothing makes any sort of sense. 

    Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. I didn't reread this at all.

[minshookie]

All Play, No Work.

Pairing | CEO!Yoongi x reader

Genre | yandere,angst

Summary | “your secret relationship with Yoongi is all smooth sailing,until Mrs Kim gets in the way.”

!warnings! | mature language, workplace bullying, gossip, and infidelity. Also some pretty steamy scenes, for readers 18+.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 2k.

A/N | “I’m so happy you enjoyed “meetings at midnight.” I never really expected over 100 notes that’s crazy! I may have gotten a little carried away with this one but I hope you don’t mind & enjoy it as well. I’ll probably be making a part 2, please take any mistakes as love ❤️”

The disturbing rattle of the air conditioner served as white noise while you toyed with the drooping noodles swimming in the savory sauce placed before you. A few of your coworkers droned on about their plans, their kids and undeserving husbands leaving you alone in the corner of the depressing break room to think about what to expect when getting back to your cubicle. Which was a little less depressing than the powder white painted room you resided in now.

“Y/L/N, Min is asking for you.” The conversations stopped and all three of us looked up into the door frame. Jimin,Yoongi's assistant stood with his hands buried in his stiffly pressed pants pockets. “I-I’m on lunch.” You slowly went back to your lukewarm meal, taking a few noodles into your mouth. Chewing, You waited for the heavy pitter patter of his polished leather loafers to exit, but You never get what you wish for.

“Y/N, please don’t make me have to run back up there just to run back down here and tell you the same thing….c’mon.” He came closing your tupperware, sighing as you pushed it into your lunch bag, embarrassment growing on your features as he stood over you. The stare of nosey coworkers followed as you stepped out of the bland break room. The clacking of Jimin’s shoes found your nerves rather quickly, closely he walked behind you like a school principal making sure you went where instructed.

Taking you past your cubicle to leave your lunch you could almost taste the jealousy being thrown at you like missiles. Disapproving and confused whispers and glares followed you out the area. Reaching the stairs, out of sight of your colleagues you out ran Jimin, the looks, noises and scoffs getting the best of you. You practically threw yourself through yoongi's door, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Hey! hey! Bunny, got here quickly didn’t you?” He walked over locking his loyal assistant out. Falling back on the couch struggling for your breath, closing your eyes, you heard him walk around you. “I told you I’d see you after work, we’d have all night together.” Sighing, he pulls you up by your arms. With a grunt he sat down and replaced your head on his lap. “I know what you said, but did you really think I was going to wait...why should i?” Opening your eyes you met his soft gaze. “Tell me you love me.” He whispers, almost ashamed in himself. Needy, needy,needy,always needy. “This can’t be why you called me in.”

“Why should I?” You laughed, obviously he didn’t share your sense of humor as he tugged harshly on a strand of your hair. “Well if I didn’t love you I’d quit Yoongi.” Rolling over you cuddled into his soft tummy inhaling his masculin scent, this here under him locked in his dim office was your safe place. “No you wouldn’t, I pay you too much.” He murmured petting your back with his large hands. “As if!” You giggled into his tummy, pulling back to look up at your lover. His signature smile displayed on his features, moving his hands from your back he places his limber fingers at the back of your knee. Locking eyes he slid skillfully under your skirt to massage your ass over your panties. “Who were you hiding from today hm?” Groaning you rolled your eyes, you hate how he knows you so well.

“Kim?” “Mrs Kim is the least of my worries now.” You grimaced playing with his buttons. “Mm good, can't be the new girl, maybe her boyfriend?” Your eyes shot open, “boyfriend?! Who?” He planted this topic in the conversation, knowing your interest in the drama of your workplace. “Yeah, she’s running around with the coffee boy.” Laughing, he cut himself off “Jungkook.” He laughed almost uncontrollably. “That’s so cute since when?!” He hums calming down, “uh since about last month, I’ve been watching them get all close and flirty jeon puts extra cream in her coffee, she blushes blah blah. And you know Jimin is the nosiest person in the population of this place.”

You chuckled Nodding in agreeance “learned that way before you did, he was my cubicle neighbor before he was your assistant.” Sitting up you go to his drink cart to grab a bottle of water. “Yeah they’re cute as long as they stay on task, Answer the question though, who’s bothering my baby hm? I hate seeing you that way.” He comes from behind gliding his hands around your front pulling you into his embrace “you have a whole cafeteria in the next wing, I made sure they served your favorite today, and yet you chose the shitty break closet.” His rambling turns into background noise as you look through the one way window. Watching as your coworkers attended their duties, Jungkook balanced coffees in his arms with skill the new girl watched in admiration...I wonder what he’s actually here for.

Yoongi’s breath fans your neck causing you to shiver against him. “I’m sorry what’d you say?” “You’re ok.” He turns you around swiftly kissing you passionately against the glass obviously you’ve missed something. Though unseen the act feels extremely dirty. Dropping your water you cling to his shoulders, legs around his Slender waist. “You're not paying me to make out with you I hope.” He pecks your nose, gnawing his bottom lip. “Huh looks like I am.” “Ah, as tempting as that sounds Yoongs-” “don’t ever call me that.” He nips at your neck in retaliation. “I have a stack of papers on my desk that Mr Jimin has been beating me over the head about.” Groaning he loosens his grip around you. Letting you gather yourself before going to his door.

“I’ll see you tonight yeah?” Pouting,he came kissing your lips once more. “I’ll be waiting.” He opened the door and watched you strut down the stairs.

Getting back to your respectful area, you notice something was off...where’d your lunch go? You could’ve sworn you threw it on your desk. Pulling out the rolling chair to take a seat, “I’ll find it later.” You whispered to yourself,taking a seat, directly in the cold remains of your lunch. “What the fuck!” A wave of laughter was given with your ill response. Noodles dangled from your backside as you turned to look at the mess on your office chair.

“Okay! What are we a bunch of middle school virgins?” Jimin shouted, his face turning a dark shade of peach. “I’m sorry y/n.” Rolling your eyes you tried to keep back tears of utter embarrassment turning away from you colleagues. “Uhm...it’s pretty bad, do you have anything to change into?” He takes off his styled coat and hands it to you. You can’t process over the harsh giggles and whispers, “yeah like I have a closet in my car, Jimin I don’t have shit to put on!” You hiss making him pull an offended expression.

“I could give you something.” Your head snapped in the direction of the quiet new girl in the far corner. “I have a few dresses in car I-I I’m in the process of…” she scans the room unsure of her words “moving.” You offer a smile to cover how distraught you are, unable to respond correctly. “Thank you luci, we appreciate it.” Nodding she smiles softly grabbing her bag going to retrieve the clothes. “Go to the restroom, please.”

Tying the coat around your waist you rushed with your head down to the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself roughly. Taking off the grey coat Turing to examine your soup covered ass. You brushed the cold noodles letting them splat onto the tiled floor. Pulling coat off the conjoined sinks you found the spacious stall at the end of the row, stripping off your soiled skirt. Nothing better to do, but to sit on the cold stool and wait.

The creaking door of the bathroom cut your silent thoughts short, isn’t Luci a quick one? You chuckled to yourself getting up, about to tell her of your whereabouts…“maybe if the bitch didn’t have her head so far up Min’s ass she woulda saw it coming.” The unknown voice stopped you in your tracks. Her friend snickers. “Shh she could be in here.” “As if I give a fuck, she needs to know!” Peeking through the side of the stall you could see them in the mirror touching up their makeup. “Min’s probably got his head up hers too!” The quieter of the two spoke up.

“Ha that would explain my recent hours, I heard they fuck in the office, I wonder if the sluts any good.” She cleaned the edges of her lipstick, “I’ve fucked him, I know he’s good, really into all the rough shit, he’s crazy.” She tossed her makeup into her bag fixing her hair, “why’d you guys stop?” You felt your chest ache, yoongi never told you about him and Mrs Kim, what kind of fucked story is this? “Little miss pasta booty got the job, and Joon finally proposed...guess he didn’t want me any-” “y/n are you in here?!” Luci’s softened voice searched for you.

“I’m in here.” Responding slightly above a whisper, the soft steps of her pumps were trampled by the clicking steps of the two mud slingers who quickly bursted from the restroom. “I didn’t know what you would like, I have this blue one, it’s a cute summer dress.” She hung it on the door of the stall for me to see. “Or this white one, it’s a bit tighter but I think it’ll look great on you.” Randomly choosing you stripped of your top pulling the dress over yourself. “Thanks Luci, I owe you one.” Collecting your clothes and Jimin’s coat, you left the stall. “No no, I’m sorry Kim did that to you...I should’ve stopped her.” She coyly hangs her head, “not your fault...thanks Luci.” She smiles politely, leaving me alone in the bathroom.

Eunji That jealous bitch, yoongi has much explaining to do. You smooth out your dress bracing yourself for the environment behind the door. only to be pushed back. A deep blush pink shade covering his face, yoongi brings you back in, “you can’t be in here, this is the ladies.” He scans your body before looking at the dirty laundry in your arms. “This is my building. I can be anywhere in any room I want.” Scoffing you attempt to leave, grabbing your forearm he pulls you back. “What’s going on with you I’m here to check and see if you’re alright and here you are acting like an ass y/n” his face held a concerned stare.

“Yoongi the last thing we should be doing is huddling in the bathroom, we’ve drawn enough attention to ‘us’ already.” Unable to look him in the eyes you examine his posture, he propped your chin on his pointer finger bringing your face up. “And since when did you care?” “Ever since your ex painted my ass with my lunch.” He giggled darkly, “what?” Again you attempted escape, only to be overpowered and lifted with ease. “Okay sit the fuck down.” Placing you down in the sink like a child he took your skirt looking at the back. “And this just had to be the one I bought?.” He shook his head like a disappointed father. “What are you acting so mad towards me for, who’s supposedly my ex huh?” He took the skirt under the faucet scrubbing it harshly together with soap.

Why can’t he ever just leave you alone, drawing attention to your relationship was the last thing you needed today. It’s not like nobody knew, it was hard not to. But you hated the unwanted attention the favoritism brought you. “Who lied to you?” “You did.” He stopped the water, “y/n now you know I’d never.” He folded the cleaned wet skirt along with your shirt. “Yoongi, I heard Kim Eunji talking about it. She told her little follower about it while I hid in the stall.” You answered blandly, ready to be freed from the bathroom. His face shifted shades, “what? I’ve never fucked that bitch, all she does is lie and get into shit she has no concern for.” He gripped the sink roughly.

Like a switch, when the right buttons were pushed Yoongi’s temper was quick to strike….though never thrown at you. It can have harsh outcomes and you've seen it first hand. “She runs her mouth about you too much, I’ll have to help her out.” Aggressively released the marble counter, “Yoongi w-what, calm down.” He walked to the door, unsure of what to do. Naive of his wrath you followed behind. “She wants to get fucked? I’ll give her something that’ll fuck her up, something that’ll make her piss off for good this time.”

Not my image

[haeresyys]

Gonna just rattle off some of my general Dottore thoughts + headcanons here

THIS IS KINDA LONG LMAO I’M SO SORRY IN ADVANCE ENJOY MY FUCKIN... MADDENED RAMBLINGS IG??? This bitch has been living rent free in my fucking head for months now and I don’t know how to evict him

We haven't gotten confirmation either way on how the Segments work I don't think, so I'm headcanoning them as at least partially organic until further notice jgksdjgk

Also I know we got that shot of that weird THING where Dottore's eyes should be when his model got posted, but you can pry red-eyed Dottore from my cold dead hands !!!!

(I personally think they just fucking slapped some textures under there because we're not supposed to see what his eyes look like yet. Think Kaeya's eye under the patch)

The way I draw him, he does have scars around his eyes underneath his mask, though I've probably tweaked how they look about half a dozen times by now. I'll post him later probably

My idea with that oneshot I wrote is that, despite his best efforts not to, Dottore is still capable of feeling emotions. Beyond basic things such as anger though he is... Not very well in touch with them. He insists he doesn't feel guilt in disposing of the other Segments. (If anything he almost sounded happy abt it while talking to Nahida bc it sounds like they never shut the fuck up lmfao) It only starts to sink in that maybe he does have some regrets when he starts having those nightmares.

He had countless pairs of eyes to give himself different views of the world, and now he only has himself. But he keeps pushing onward and shoving it back down, because to accomplish his goals, no length is too far. Dottore is completely and utterly ruthless, I think we all know this by now.

That also lends credence to how he could end up playable as well. I personally see him eventually getting a Cryo Vision, as (iirc) it's been shown that basically every Cryo user we've gotten so far has gotten theirs due to family conflict. And when you think about it, what he did to the Segments could be interpreted as him effectively killing his brethren or maybe some kind of extremely convoluted suicide WHDFHDSF it could honestly go either way

It's still too early to say on the Vision front tho lmfao it'll likely be a good year before he's playable

Moving back onto the Segments for a moment, the reason he gives in-game for creating them is... A lot more understandable than I expected. Giving himself multiple views of the world and effectively stopping time for that version of himself. The lengths he goes to in pursuit of knowledge are genuinely fucking impressive, and also go to show how utterly unhinged he is.

I saw this on Twitter first, but Dottore is extremely focused on preserving the past. Even outside of the Segments, there's lore in artifact descriptions and the like that point back to him as well, and though he keeps it under tight wraps, his conversation with Nahida gives a lot more insight into his mindset + who he is as a person than at first glance.

He says it himself: Humans have a hard time making peace with themselves. Wouldn't that also imply things like the passage of time? Growing older, and one's own mortality?

CHRIST I KNOW THIS IS A LOT BUT I THINK DOTTORE IS THE MOST INVESTED I'VE BEEN IN A CHARACTER IN A LONG FUCKING TIME LOL I AM FILLED WITH THOUGHTS™

There's a lot of potential with his character, and I think that's part of why I love him so much. He's just so fucking fascinating to me. Like. I know I haven't done RP shit in a long ass time (definitely FAR less than I used to), but Dottore is the closest thing I've had to a muse in years. Getting into his head is so unbelievably fucking fun for me

Anyway rant over lmfao back to your regularly scheduled whatever

[dp-marvel94]

I am you (and you are me)

For Invisobang 2021. Art by @bibliophilea

On AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Summary: Set post Kindred Spirits. Something has been different since Danny came back from Vlad's and it started when the older half ghost had the tiny clone overshadow him. The half ghost remembers: His own screams. A pain in his inmost being, in his core. A tug back and forth. Being squeezed. A crash, a collision. And then... the blackness of death.

Danny comes back from the experience changed, with the memories of two lives stuffed in his head and new powers. The fire powers are pretty cool but shrinking, often involuntarily, makes him feel weak and vulnerable. All of it, the powers and memories, terrify him as he learns what they mean. And the thought of telling his loved ones...How can the half ghost hope that Jazz, Sam, and Tucker will understand and accept him now when he himself cannot?

Warnings and Tags: Self harm, Identity confusion, Self-Hatred, Ectoplasm and melting clones related gore, Clone Angst, Nightmares, Memory Issues, Involuntary Shrinking. Panic Attacks, Frostbite is Danny’s Icedad.  Evil Vlad Masters, Bad Parent Vlad Masters, Split Danny, Ghost Catcher, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual acceptance (by Danny and by his loved ones). Sibling Bonding, Friendship, Danny finally gets a hug.

Note: Welcome to my Invisobang fic! This is a semi-sequel to my story "Nothing and Everything." It's set directly after that story, though assuming an alternative ending. It is not necessary to read the older story to understand this one. All you need to know is, it deals with the aftermath of Danny being overshadowed by one of the clone's in Kindred Spirits and the emotional impact of the experience.

All that being said, big thanks to my amazing artist @bibliophilea for the amazing comic, and for beta reading! Thanks to @welcome-tothe-mystery-shack  for your comments and feedback on this story. And finally, a huge thanks to my dearest sister @nervousdragonrebelpie for looking over chapters and listening to me ramble about this story for the past few months. I wouldn’t have been able to finish this without you.

Preview Below:

Chapter 1:

“No! I’m a person. People have names! I have to have a name. I’m not….” A sob tried to break free from his throat.

A knock suddenly rattled the door. “Danny!” Mom called.

Both boy’s heads popped up, focusing on the door. They turned to face each other. “Don’t do this.” The real Danny begged.

“What?” The being asked.

“Every time you get close to the truth, you dream up a distraction.” His eyes widened in desperate panic. “Please don’t-”

Danny’s eyes popped open, a dream swirling in his mind. His heart raced, the sheets sticking to his sweaty body. His brow wrinkled, one shaking hand moving up to rub his aching head. Aching…. He still had that damn headache.

The boy closed his eyes, trying to push the pain away, to coax his heart rate down. He breathed. In and out. In and out. Slowly, so slowly, the throb in his head dimmed, his heart calming. But still, anxiety ate up his insides. 

Blearily, the boy opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. Dissatisfied, he groaned and rolled onto his side. He clenched and unclenched his fists, balling up the fabric on his bed. His bed. Yes, this was his bed…. Sleeping in a bed was so nice and comfortable but at the same time... something about it felt…. off.

The boy pinched his eyes closed, trying to make sense of the feeling. His stomach flopped. Something was off. Something was different. After today, after he’d come back from Vlad’s, after the man kidnapped him, after the man clo-

Danny cut off the cursed word, his mind refusing. He buried his face in his pillow. Vlad’s. Something had happened, something had.. had changed at Vlad’s but he couldn’t... quite... remember.

It flashed in images. Being locked in a pod. Electrocution. His own screams. Pain. A pain in his inmost being, in his core…. On the bed, Danny’s core throbbed at the thought… A tug back and forth. Then being squeezed. A crash, a collision. And then... blackness.

He’d passed out. Danny knew that much. And he’d woken up at some point later but everything between that and when he had arrived home was a blur.

Confusion. His head swimming. Danielle.. sister… frowning in worry. The hiss of the pod being released. A sigh of relief. An ectoblast. Twisted metal and glass. Ectoplasm. Ectoplasm on his hands, on the floor. Oh god, oh god. He hadn’t meant to do that. He wasn’t... the others weren’t supposed to…. weren't supposed to...

Vlad... Master... Vlad... glaring in pure hatred. “Get behind me.” His ears ringing with a scream. The older halfa being knocked into his shelves. His knees wobbling. He fell and turned human. (Human... why did the fact that he could do that make him so happy?) But then horror. Vlad was still up and moving.

Then Sam and Tucker crashed through, hitting the older man. Locking Vlad (Master) in a pod. He needs... he needs to find Danielle. He needs to find his baby sister. But she’s gone. She’s gone.

His friends’ worried faces. “Danny, you’re not making any sense.” “Hey! Hey! Stay with us!” He wobbled…. where was Danielle?..... falling forward….. Sam and Tucker caught him.

At some point later, he’d woken up on his bed with worried friends and sister who he couldn’t adequately comfort. His head had been pounding and he couldn’t remember what happened to him… and what he did remember made little sense. Sam had checked his eyes; he didn’t have a concussion or any other injuries. With his head throbbing, he’d dismissed the confusion as being from the stress of the kidnapping and electrocution. His friends believed him, though anxiety was plain on their faces. But after a few minutes, his friends had said their goodbyes, leaving him to get some much needed sleep.

But now, the night after, Danny laid on his bed. His headache was gone, his mind clearer. He should feel better yet... his heart was sinking like a stone in his chest. That dream. That dream. That was familiar. So familiar. Like it had really happened. Like... it meant something. And yet…. Danny yawned, sudden tiredness overtaking him. He closed his eyes.

Maybe this was the ramblings of a sleep deprived brain. Yeah, maybe he was just tired. Maybe he’d wake up in the morning and everything would be okay. The boy pulled his covers more tightly around himself and fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The next morning, after quickly getting ready for school and rushing off, found Danny at his locker. The boy frowned, wracking his brain. What was his locker combination again? He spun the lock, landing on 25. That was the first number, right? Then….56. And finally….12? The lock clicked and he pulled the door open.

Danny sighed. Why was that so hard to remember? He’d had to open his locker just yesterday. He should remember… but why did that feel like a lifetime ago?

“Hey! Danny!” Tucker’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Danny gasped in surprise. In his chest, his core swelled and his body reflexively flickered invisible. A second later, he reappeared, rubbing his chest.

The next thing he knew, Sam was at his side. “What was that?”

“Yeah.” His technogeek friend took a step forward, voice quieting. “Your powers haven’t slipped up like that in months.”

Danny frowned, shaking his head. “I guess... I guess I’m still kinda shook up after….” He wrapped his arms around himself.

Sam’s face softened, seeming to understand. “Do you feel any better?” She asked kindly.

The halfa’s brow wrinkled. “Well, my headache’s gone.”

“You do look better.” The goth commented, her brow furrowing with worry. “You looked rough last night.”

“Yeah, you were really out of it too.” Tucker frowned. “You kept asking where someone called Danielle was? And for your sister?” Clear confusion rang out in his voice and just a hint of teasing…. “We kept telling you Jazz was at home, covering for us.” as if the idea that he was worried about his older sister, when she wasn’t even involved, was funny.

But something in the recollection made Danny shiver. He remembered worrying about Danielle. But…. sister... he hadn’t been talking about Jazz. He’d been asking about another girl, with blue eyes and-

“Then you passed out.” Sam continued. “And we took you home.”

For a too long moment, his friends looked at him questioningly. Finally, Danny bit his lip. “I think I remember that.”

The confirmation seemed to encourage his friends. “That’s good.” Said Tucker.

Danny wasn’t sure it was. But he had no more time to think on it before the bell rang and they were walking to their first class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During lunch period, Danny sat down at their familiar table, the same one as yesterday and every day since the start of freshman year. He placed down his tray and looked over the tables, waiting for Sam and Tucker to join him.

The boy’s brow furrowed. The cafeteria looked the same as every day. The same as yesterday when…. Danielle phasing through the table, a tiny green speck racing passed him…. At the lunch table, Danny’s core pulsed anxiously. Yes, that had happened but at the same time…. Looking back at the two chasing him. Laughing without sound at their fun game.

Danny shivered, feeling cold. He rubbed his chest, nervously.

“Danny?” Someone was waving a hand in front of his face. “Danny? You with us man?”

The halfa blinked and turned, meeting Tucker’s eyes. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“What’s with the spaciness?” Sam said bluntly. She stabbed at her salad. “You were like that all during English too.”

“Was I?” The boy questioned. He shook his head. “Sorry. Just... thinking about stuff.”

His friends gave him worried looks but didn’t question him. Frankly, it was to Danny’s relief. He couldn’t seem to put his thoughts in order. He couldn’t explain this... weird feeling. 

The friends chatted for most of the lunch period, Sam and Tucker dominating the conversation with a debate about the newest Doomed update.

All the while Danny idly rubbed at his chest with one hand. He picked at his cheese fries. Normally they were pretty good, but he wasn’t feeling it today. He shivered again, flinching as his fork fell through his intangible hand.

“Again?” Tucker questioned with a raised brow.

Danny didn’t respond, instead picking up his fork only for his core to flare and the utensil to fall through his fingers again. With an annoyed grumble, the boy rubbed his chest again.

“Do you think something’s up with your powers?” Sam quietly asked.

The halfa looked up, frowning. “No... I mean…”

The goth pointed. “Danny, you keep rubbing your chest.”

Danny looked down, brow furrowing. Below his palm, his core pulsed. There was something… strange about the rhythm and…. he adjusted the position, pressing just the smallest bit harder. Normally, it fit comfortably under his palm but now... “It’s... bigger?” He muttered.

“What?” Tucker asked.

Danny lowered his hand. “My core?” He shook his head. “No... I’m imagining it.” His core pulsed unhappily, even as he rubbed his forehead. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

Sam and Tucker again looked like they wanted to argue, but the bell rang and they split up, each hurrying to their next class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the school day was surprisingly normal. Just his typical classes, without even a ghost fight to interrupt his day. Danny should have felt relieved for such a chill day after what happened last night but yet…. The boy tapped his pencil on his desk. He felt anxious. He must still be shook up, like he told his friends this morning. 

Danny bit his lip, shaking the writing instrument in his hand again. It went flying out of his grip and clattered onto the floor. The boy huffed as he bent down to grab it. His hand hadn’t even turned intangible this time.

With that, the boy straightened in his seat. He glanced at the clock. 20 more minutes left in class. Just 20 minutes. Then he could go home and take a nap. He rubbed his eyes. He was still tired after getting back so late. Maybe some sleep would help him feel better.

Soon enough, the bell rang. Danny stood and walked to his locker. This time, he remembered the combination without wracking his brain. He pulled out his books and turned to his friends, who were collecting their own belongings.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Danny said.

“Yeah, see you later.” Tucker replied.

“Call us if something comes up with the ghosts.” Sam frowned. “I’m grounded but…. I’ll sneak out if you need me.”

The technogeek groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m grounded too.”

The halfa looked down guiltily. “Sorry.” He bit his lip. “You guys shouldn’t be grounded because you had to save my sorry butt.”

“It’s fine.” Sam comforted. “We weren’t not going to save you. We’re your friends.”

“Yeah.” Tucker agreed. “It’s just the price to pay for being superheroes.”

Danny half-smiled, though he didn’t much feel like it. He wasn’t much of a hero. Guilt still choked his heart. He hated getting his friends in trouble. But still…. “Thanks for having my back.”

“No problem.” Tucker confirmed.

Then down the hall, someone called his name. “Danny?”

The boy turned. It was his sister, Jazz. He frowned. Oh right, he hadn’t talked to her since he’d been half out of it last night.

The girl quickly approached. “There you are. Come on. I’m driving you home.”

Jazz didn’t give him a choice as she started leading him towards the entrance. Danny waved at his friends, watching their worried faces until he turned the corner. 

Less than two minutes later, the pair were seated in Jazz’s car. The girl didn’t start the vehicle, instead turning to face her brother. “Are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?”

“I... Uh…” Danny stuttered, trying to collect his thoughts.

“You disappeared during the middle of school. Sam and Tucker said some weird ghost girl showed up. You went off to fight some ghost and the next thing they knew, Vlad was carrying you away.”

The boy crossed his arms. “It sounds like you already know what happened.” He muttered.

Jazz pinned a serious look. “I know Vlad kidnapped you but…. what did he do to you?”

Danny paled. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Something happened. You were unconscious when Sam and Tucker got back. And you were super out of it when you woke up. But you weren’t physically hurt. What did Vlad do to you?” His sister pushed.

Danny swallowed, his stomach flopping. “I... I don’t…. It’s fuzzy….” 

Jazz rose a brow, her tone suggesting she knew there was more to it. “Danny.”

The boy flinched. “I... he... Vlad electrocuted me?” He remembered. Being locked in a pod, electricity running through him. The creepy hologram of his mom. But... but... there was more.

His sister paled. “Oh... I’m so sorry.” Her voice softened and she didn’t say anything for a while, then… “Do you know why he did that?”

Danny stiffened, looking up. The reason sparked in his mind, with the image. Vlad hissing in front of him, boasting his plan. The man had explained but…. the words stayed just out of reach. Danny's face set in a pointed frown. He shook his head.

Jazz’s own frown deepened. “That little girl…. Sam and Tucker said she looked just like you in ghost form. What does she have to do with all this?”

The boy avoided her eyes, heart fluttering nervously. The little girl.... her face snapped into focus in his mind. Danielle, that was her name. But... there was another word. Started with an S or…. a C. She was like him; she was a clo-

Danny shook his head. No, that wasn’t right. Well…. part of it was right. Danielle had been there. She’d been helping Vlad. She helped the man hurt him; painful betrayal stabbed at him from the thought. But at the same time…

“She helped me. She helped me fight Vlad.” The half ghost said quietly, awed realization sparking as he remembered.

“But… who was she?” Jazz asked, equally quietly.

Just like that, the boy paled again. The word, the cursed word, formed in his mind without his permission. Clone. She was a clone of…. him?... No... that didn’t sound right... he was the same as her but... it had to be true. His frown deepened.

“Who was she?” His older sister asked again.

The boy shivered. “I... I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Danny.” Her voice softened. “You can tell me. It’s-”

“I... I can’t... I don’t wanna talk about it.” He focused on his hands in his lap, trying to keep them from shaking.

“Clearly, whatever happened is bothering you. You can tell me.”

“No. I-” Danny bit his lip, reaching for the door. He couldn’t stay in here with her, couldn’t deal with the questions he had no answers for or rather... questions he couldn’t bear to answer. The… the c word... he couldn’t say it, could barely think it. How could he explain how everything felt wrong, like he wasn’t actually-

“Wait.” Jazz cut off his thoughts. “You don’t have to talk until you’re ready. Just... let me drive you home.”

The boy lowered his hand and slumped back in his seat. “You... you promise? You won’t press?”

His sister’s brow furrowed. Her face was tight, like she didn’t want to agree; but after a long moment, she sighed. “Alright. I promise.”

Danny nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Jazz turned the car on, put it into drive, and pulled out of the parking lot. They drove home in silence. Once they arrived, the boy went straight up to his room. He rubbed his head, flopping down onto his bed. He needed... he needed a nap. Yeah…. That was it. He was still tired.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sister smiled down at him. “Look at this!” The black haired girl held up her crayon drawing. “This is me.” She pointed. “And Muscles. And Bones. And Daniel.” Her smile widened as she tapped at the last figure. “And this is you.”

The being tilted his head. He floated up, placing small hands on the green figure on the paper. He blinked owlishly up at the girl.

The corner of the girl's mouth turned down. She placed down the paper and offered him a crayon. “Come on. You try.”

The tiny being hovered forward, reaching out to touch the crayon. It was so big, almost half as tall as he was. He frowned, trying to understand.

“Make yourself a little bigger and you’ll be able to hold it.” She encouraged. “Come on. You can do it.”

The being scrunched his brow and he stretched. He was about the size of a toddler, maybe two and a half feet tall. He reached out, grabbing the crayon with his slightly larger hands.

“Great.” Sister said. She pushed a fresh piece of paper in front of him. “Now you draw. Like this.” She demonstrated, rubbing the crayon against the paper so color transferred onto it.

The being flopped down, sitting on the floor. Slowly, so slowly, he copied the girl. He traced his drawing instrument over the paper. He scribbled, creating a mess of lines and shapes without meaning or purpose.

Sister smiled proudly anyway. “You’re doing it. Good job, Tiny.”

He beamed, something in him sparking at the praise. He continued scribbling but the image changed into something more purposeful. A house took shape, stick figures. A large man and slimmer woman. A little girl and a little boy.

The little boy giggled at his drawing. His hands were chubbier than before. A toddler’s, instead of the miniaturized version of a teen’s. 

“Jazzy!” He looked up, showing off his drawing to the little redhead girl.

His older sister looked up. “That looks great, Danny!” She put her own crayons down, rubbing her sweaty forehead. “It’s so hot.”

The boy suddenly dropped his crayons and drawing. “Outside! Let’s go outside!”

“But it’s hot.” The girl repeated.

The boy was already running off. “Mommy! Mommy! Can we play in the sprinklers?! Please! Please!”

Mommy turned around from where she was making lunch. “After we eat, okay?”

“Okay!” The four year old beamed, already running up the stairs to get his swim trunks.

The next thing he knew, he was outside. Mommy set up the sprinkler. He and Jazzy ran around it, giggling. Daddy came outside with water balloons and Danny let out a happy scream. “Water balloons!”

The little boy grabbed one and threw it at his sister.

Danny blinked awake to bright light on his face. His nose wrinkled. It was still light out? Oh wait, he had been taking a nap. He sat up, yawning and rubbing his forehead. He’d been dreaming again, this time about…. He shivered, remembering. He’d been playing in the back yard with Jazz when he was four. And... he’d been with Danielle. She’d been showing him how to draw. 

The boy’s stomach flopped. That didn’t make sense. That hadn’t happened. Maybe... maybe he was thinking about her because Jazz had asked, earlier, when they’d been in the car but... that had felt like a memory.

Dread balled in his gut. He’d been small, smaller than her hand. And then he’d stretched and he was bigger, about the size of a toddler. Danny looked down at his hands, his human, properly sized hands. That, changing his size, wasn’t something he could do but…. In the dream, Danielle had called him Tiny. It didn’t make sense and yet….

He remembered. One of the other clones. The small green one. Danny shivered. That one, that one could shrink. That clone had overshadowed him.

The knowledge hit Danny like a ton of bricks. The tiny clone had overshadowed him. How... how didn’t he remember that until just now? How hadn’t he realized? Danny grimaced, a sickening feeling squeezing his insides. He’d been possessed. Someone else had been in his body, controlling his actions, messing with his mind. The boy wrapped his arms around himself. He felt violated at the thought. That was so wrong. Vlad had ordered one of his clones to overshadow him. And…. more memories of the experience pressed into his mind.

Danny had been semi-aware of the other presence. There had been a fight for control, another core so close to his and…. Memories, thoughts that weren’t his. Flashes of the tiny clone’s memories. And the feeling of tiny hands rifling through his own mind.

Danny pulled his knees to his chest. That must be why he’s felt so off. It was the aftereffects of being possessed. And that dream, the flashes of memory…. he must be remembering what he’d seen and felt from the tiny clone while it had been possessing him.

The boy sighed. But... the feeling would go away eventually, right? It would. He’d felt off after Sidney had overshadowed him as well. It had taken a bit to get used to being in his own body again. And Sidney was more experienced with overshadowing than his clone had been. The ghostly nerd knew how to push Danny’s spirit out of his body, instead of forcing both ghosts to cohabitate. That was why there were strange memories now, unlike last time.

But it didn’t matter. He’d get back to normal soon enough and his friends and sister would have nothing to worry about. Everything would be okay, right?

Danny stood up, rolling his shoulders to stretch. He had homework to do. He sat down at his desk, trying to ignore the way his stomach still flopped.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 4

Masterlist

Thank you as always to my best friend and Beta reader @acollectionofficsandshit​ for putting up with me and my ramblings ♥

Word Count: 3.8k

Recommended song: "ily (I love you baby)" by Surf Mesa and Emilee

You'd never been more thankful that you kept a change of clothes in your car than you were after the race at Silverstone. You'd showered again, changing back into the sweaty tee and leggings. The clean emergency hoodie and jeans were a blessing, and casual enough for a night on the town.

Most of the crew had left, only a few poor souls pouring over race data or packing up essentials. James let you into the trailer yard this time without hesitation. "We really should just get you a key," He teases, "Sure would make my life easier."

Rolling your eyes, you give the tower of muscle a pitiful shove. He doesn't move an inch. "Thanks James. I'll ask Pierre to look into it."

A sudden wave of tiredness washes over you when you make it back to the trailer. You flip through the channels on the tiny television, settling on an analysis of the day’s race.

“And a brilliant drive from young Pierre Gasly, wasn’t it John?”

“I completely agree Martin. Gasly took advantage of every slip up by Mercedes and Red Bull and he has to be commended for that. Max made some rare mistakes and…”

You smile to yourself, their praise washing over you. Yawning, you curl up on Pierre's bed, the familiar smell of cedar lulling you into a light sleep in minutes.

**********

A gentle touch to your cheek wakes you some hours later. You crack your eyes open, greeted by a smile brighter than the stars in the night sky. You taste eternal sunshine on his lips when you kiss him, your soul sparking in response to his light.

"Good morning," He murmurs, thumb rubbing along your jaw. "Sleep well?"

You snuggle closer to him, eyes closing once more as you soak up the warmth. "Is it time to go out already?"

"It is. But we can stay here if you want to." He brushes a stray hair off your face. The gesture is so tender, if you didn’t know any better you’d never guess he could turn into the seasoned, take-no-shit racer you’d seen hours before. 

You shake your head. You couldn't let him miss out on celebrating his victory with his closest friends. Besides, you hadn't seen any of them for a span of time longer than a few minutes in months, and truth be told, you missed them all. 

Those boys had a knack for turning the simplest of outings into unforgettable adventures. You had been sworn to secrecy on numerous occasions after Pierre recounted drunken escapades that usually ended with Max sleeping somewhere preposterous, like a claw-footed bathtub in a fancy suite.

“Where are we going?” You ask sleepily. “Somewhere nearby?”

Pierre tugs you up until you’re sitting. He pulls you back against his chest, arms wrapping around you as he sets his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe ten minutes away.”

You lean your full weight against him, admiring how perfectly your bodies slot together. “Can I leave my car here?”

“As long as you’re okay with it staying here until tomorrow, that’s fine.” He coaxes you to stand and presses a kiss to your temple as a reward. Your limbs are still heavy and uncooperative. Pierre winds an arm around your waist, supporting you and assuming the position of your rock as he always did.

"You don't sleep here," You state simply, looking at him for confirmation. He shakes his head.

"Wouldn't be enough room for two anyway." He gestures to the tiny twin sized bed and shrugs.

Your brow furrows. “Am I staying with you tonight?” You honestly had not considered it. The jet usually left early and you had assumed he would want to get as much rest as possible. But now that you had experienced waking up next to him, you realize how much you want his face to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes each morning.

“Of course you’re staying with me. I’m taking every second of your time that I can get.”

You bite your lip and lay your head on his shoulder. The idea of falling asleep in his arms was enough to shake any lingering sleepiness. “Okay.” Confident that you could hold yourself up, you step out of his grasp. “Ready.”

The few mechanics roaming about the grounds are enough to keep you cautious. You walk through the paddock a hair's breadth apart, although every nerve screams for you to touch him. Every time your arm grazes his, electricity ripples across your skin. All you want to do is hold his hand, but there’s enough prying eyes that you restrain the impulse.

You can tell he feels it too by the way his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides. And he's biting his cheek, you notice. A nervous habit of his and a clear indicator that he'd retreated inside his own head, likely contemplating if he'd truly deserved to win today or not.

Every few months his doubts crept in, the devil on his shoulder reminding him that Horner hadn't deemed him good enough to keep his seat at Red Bull after only a handful of races.

You'll never be as talented as them, is what you'd imagined it whispered. They're only here because they pity you. What makes you think you deserve a seat?

It couldn't be farther from the truth. Deep down, Pierre knew that. Driving in Formula 1 meant being under constant scrutiny from the public and sportscasters. Making an error meant debates about whether you were good enough and rumors about seat security.

There were no such errors today. You'd heard the commentary after the race; everyone was raving about his performance. Not one person had dared say he didn't deserve it.

Not wanting him to suffer alone, you subtly wrap your pinky finger around his. "You're okay," You say softly, his head whipping to you. "You deserved that trophy today. It was some of the best driving I've ever seen, everyone agrees. You deserve a trophy every time you get in that car. You'll always be my champion, even if the world tells you otherwise."

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but he nods and releases your pinkie. "You're my grounding rod," He says, lips curling in a knowing smile, and you can't hold back your laugh.

"Leave it to you to turn a romantic moment into a cheesy one." Instead of saying you're my rock like any normal person, he had to bring up the time you'd embarrassed yourself at the bar a year or so ago. He'd let you prattle on to poor Dan about building grounding rods of all things, and how you'd thought your professor's way of designing such a system was flawed. Pierre would never let you live that down, it seemed.

Max spots the two of you first, waving from where the boys had gathered outside Red Bull. “About time you showed up! We’ve been waiting for ten minutes!”

“She fell asleep,” Pierre says simply, his confidence back. “Takes her awhile to wake up.”

“Whatever, I’m just glad you’re here,” Daniel says, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you tight to his side. You couldn’t help the broad smile creeping onto your face, twin to the aussie’s as you hug him back. 

“We missed you,” Charles says, falling into step beside you. “I never hear from you anymore!”

You grimace. It was true, while the three boys had texted you quite frequently the past few months, you had barely responded to them. You felt guilty about it, knowing they were taking time out of their packed schedules to catch up. But uni had been kicking your ass and the only one you’d found time for was Pierre. Looking back, you were glad he had been the exception.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You say. “Lots of projects.”

“And that new internship,” Max points out. Your eyebrows flick up, gaze flicking to Pierre. You had been awarded an internship a month or so ago at a local engineering firm in London. It was only part time work, a few hours a week, but it was enough. The only one you had told was Pierre.

Pierre grins, the gesture a silent apology. “I may have spilled the beans.” 

You cut him a glare, the others laughing at your attempt at being intimidating. But you couldn’t turn away from him, not when he was looking at you with the same pride you had felt when he’d won earlier that day. 

“Uber’s here,” Charles announces, checking his phone.

“Where?” Daniel asks, and Charles indicates a black SUV parked at the curb. Daniel and Max exchange a look, shouting “Shotgun!” at the same time. Both boys break into a full sprint, feet pounding on the pavement. Daniel wins - barely, leaving Max and Charles to squeeze into the back seat.

Pierre follows you into the third row of seats, his hand immediately engulfing yours. Your stomach flips, glancing up to find a reassuring smile on his face. You could barely focus on what was said for the first half of the ride, hyperaware of the callouses rubbing your skin. The world around you erupts into color at the touch, completing the part of you that you’d never realized was missing. 

The remainder of the drive is filled with laughter, jokes, and plenty of selfies with the driver. It wasn’t every day one could brag about having four world class drivers in your car; you couldn’t blame the man for being excited.

By the time you arrive at the bar, your sides are already splitting with laughter. “First round is on you, Ricciardo,” Charles says, wagging a finger at him. “Punishment for bringing up the Abu Dhabi incident again!”

“Jokes on you, I was already planning on it!” He glances at you and winks. “Gotta congratulate the winner somehow, right?” Little did the Australian know, you had already congratulated Pierre a few hours ago, and you doubted that a few shots would outshine that performance. You hope the pink tinge that rises to your cheeks with the memory isn't obvious and you duck your head just in case.

A blast of air conditioning hits you as you all stumble into the bar. All eyes fell to you and the ragtag group of drivers when you entered, silence blanketing the patrons. The bartender slams a fist on the wooden bartop, rattling glasses and making you flinch.

“Been wonderin’ when you lot were gonna show your ugly mugs!”

Daniel, Max and Charles erupt into friendly laughter, shaking the man’s hand and making small talk. You look to Pierre for an explanation.

“Tradition,” He murmurs. The noise returned to a normal level around you, though you could feel the glances thrown your way. “We come here every year, but only if one of us wins at Silverstone. Been awhile since that happened.”

"Ah," You say, nodding dramatically. "Yes, very long time." Pierre grins, shaking his head.

"Who won this year?" The man - William, Pierre informs you- asks. He towered over you when you sat on the sticky bar stool, tall and lanky but well muscled and certainly not someone you would expect patrons to try disrespecting. He was already pouring five shots of a fine Irish Whiskey, waving Daniel off when he tried to start a tab. “My treat.”

Max claps a hand on Pierre's shoulder. "This one claimed the crown, for once!"

"Wey hey!" William says, passing out the shots. "Everyone else crash out or what?"

"You should watch the replay," You say, knocking Pierre's shoulder with your own. "It was amazing. The move he used to get past Max-" you bring your pinched fingers to your lips in a chef's kiss. "Gorgeous."

"Much to Max's despair," Charles adds, raising his shot. "To the underdog!"

You all echo the sentiment, the boys knocking back the strong alcohol with practiced ease. It didn't go down as smooth for you, burning your throat and making you wince.

Daniel laughs. "Not used to drinking with us anymore, huh?"

"Must have lost my edge," You say, the woody taste lingering in your mouth. "I'm sure it'll hit me hard in a half hour or so, too."

**********

Well, you weren't wrong about the alcohol hitting you like a punch to the gut. Two shots later and you were swaying like a sailor on his first excursion out to sea, Pierre's shoulder the only thing keeping you from toppling off the bar stool. 

Pierre's eyes were bright as the others poked fun at him, William joining in with a witty remark now and then. His laugh wrapped around you like a warm blanket, keeping you content and grounded.

"Hey Pierre," Daniel says at one point, "Don't look now but that table of girls has been obsessed with you all night."

Pierre, blitzed as he was, pays no attention to Dan's warning and turns around. A loopy grin was plastered on his face, turning back and shaking his head.

You may not have been able to think straight, but your stomach lurches. Instantly sobering slightly, you follow Dan's gaze to the indicated table to your left. Three beautiful women sat there, whispering behind their hands and clearly speaking about Pierre. One bit her lip and caught your eye, giggling. Her looks were universally attractive enough that she would be anyone’s type, Pierre included. The possessiveness in the gaze she raked over his body set your blood boiling. 

This… was not a scenario you wanted to play out. You didn't know if Pierre was ready to tell his friends about your relationship yet. You knew he wouldn't let any of those girls have the light of day, but he might let them fawn over him a little, just to protect your secret. And it would kill you, but you would have no choice but to let it happen.

"I'm good," Pierre says, sipping the beer he had been nursing all night.

"Come on mate," Max pushes, a wicked grin on his flushed face, "That blonde is so your type."

No she isn't.

You’re already staring up at Pierre when he turns to you. You have always worn your emotions on your sleeve for anyone to see, and it only got worse when mixed with alcohol. Pierre smiles softly, taking mercy on you. Slowly, he takes your hand and threads your fingers together before turning back to the boys.

"One of you can tell them I’m not interested. I already have my girl." 

Heart beating wildly, you scan your friends faces. They were all wide eyed and slack jawed, staring at your joined hands. Pierre gives your hand a gentle squeeze, reminding you to breathe. He read you like an open book, offering reassurance when you needed it most.

"It's about fucking time!" Daniel roars, breaking the tense silence. Your shoulders relax, grinning along with the others. Pierre beams at you, knocking your shoulder to say I told you so. 

"Does this mean I get a break from listening to you obsess over her every weekend?" Max asks, giving you a meaningful look. 

"Likely not," Pierre answers. "I'm still just as obsessed as before. Maybe more." Max pretends to gag, earning him a playful punch from Charles. God, it was so freeing for your relationship to be more open, even if it was just between your closest friends. 

"I'd just like to point out that I told you two this would happen years ago," Charles says matter of factly, pointing at Max and Dan. "Should've taken you up on that bet."

Your mouth hung open. "You were going to bet on us being a couple?"

"Oh come on," Max says, rolling his eyes. "We all knew it was coming eventually. We just didn't know when!"

Pink stains your cheeks, but Pierre laughs and leans in to kiss you. Remembering the girls behind you, you press a little closer to him. Under the guise of placing a kiss to his cheek, you meet the blonde's eyes and smile sweetly.

The woman preens, mouth twisting. Good. Pierre was yours, and now that he'd admitted it, you could let those girls know it. His hand slips to your thigh, squeezing hard. A clear warning that you were venturing into dangerous territory. You didn't care.

The alcohol in your veins makes you bold, and you want to drive your point home. They could look all they wanted, but he was coming home with you. You push the boundary farther and bite the soft skin of his neck just hard enough to leave a mark. Pierre's hiss finally makes you pull back and look up at him innocently.

"Get a room," Daniel teases with a wink. You smile at him, mumbling an insincere apology. Your point had been made. The arrogant smirk had been wiped from the woman’s face, replaced with a grimace. 

"I think it is time for us to get going," Pierre says, annoyance flashing across his face. Oh, you had stoked the fire and now you would have to face the consequences. 

"We're just getting started," Charles complains. Pierre slaps a few bills on the counter and gets up without responding. 

"Bye guys!" You call over your shoulder as Pierre drags you towards the door. They all wave back, Max's lower lip jutting out in a pout. Your eyes slid one more time to the blonde, who had her arms crossed over her chest. You give her a wicked, taunting grin and return her earlier wink.

Pierre halts so quickly that you run into him. “Why are we leaving?”

“You know why,” He growls, flagging down a cab. “You didn't like how she was looking at me, so you did something about it. You might not have noticed, but every man in that bar had their eyes on you. So I’m following your example and doing something about it.”

Your brow furrows. Pierre won’t meet your gaze, and your eyes fall to the purple mark on his neck. You didn’t like his tone; it bordered dangerously on anger. “Are you… Are you mad that I did that?”

Tears threaten to spill when he finally looks at you. God, you were a blubbering drunk.  When your lip wobbles, his anger fades and he sighs. “I’m not mad. I just… I didn’t think you’d want me flaunting our relationship yet. When you did this-” He gestures to his neck- “I could barely keep my hands off you. Not when I saw the guy walking up to you.”

You sniff, trying to conjure the image of the bar. “I didn’t notice anyone.”

“Yeah, cause I dragged you out here before he could say anything.” Pierre pulls his hood up and sighs. “Trying to catch a cab here is harder than overtaking Hamilton.”

You laugh harder than you should at the off-hand remark, following after him as he trudges down the sidewalk. “Why are you not drunk? I feel like you should be drunk. You won a race. They were feeding you shots one after another.”

“One of us had to be responsible and make sure we got home okay.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “And I knew as soon as you had that first shot it would have to be me. Didn’t you notice me handing the shots to the other guys?”

“No,” You say, rubbing your eyes. “What about the boys? How are they gonna get home?” Pierre stops, forcing you to do the same. He tugs your hood up, makes sure his is secure enough to hide his face, and grabs your hand.

“I already told Seb to come round them up in an hour or so. They’ll be fine.”

You don’t respond, too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other and not fall on your face. It doesn’t help that your vision is a tad blurry. Finally you give up and whine, “How much further?”

“It’s right there,” He says, pointing at a towering glass building just across the street. “In five minutes, you can be tucked into a cozy, fluffy suite and you can rest all you want, my love.”

You hum at the words, warmth flooding your veins from more than the liquor. “I like that.”

“What, the building?” He asks, amused. He helps you cross the empty street, making sure you’re paying attention to where you’re going.

“Noooo, what you said,” You clarify, leaning on him as you try to navigate the handful of steps leading to the hotel.

He’s quiet until you reach the elevator. “My love,” He murmurs, and you grin up at him.

“Mon… mon coeur,” You manage to say, somehow pulling the French phrase out of the dregs of your memory. The words are slurred and you know that you absolutely botch the pronunciation, but the intent is clear. You may have lived in France since you were 18, but learning the language wasn’t a requirement when almost everyone knew english as well. But the two of you had spent many hours watching Pierre’s favorite french films over the years; some of it must have unintentionally rubbed off on you.

A disbelieving smile tugs at his lips. “How do you even know what that means?”

You shrug. “Just do.” The elevator doors open and you step out, Pierre following. You halt, not knowing which hall to take. You glance up at your companion for help, only to find him staring back at you. “What?”

He shakes his head and leads you down the corridor to his room. It's a spacious corner suite, with huge windows facing Silverstone that give him a perfect view of the track. You make for the window but Pierre’s hand on your wrist stops you.

“I don’t think so, it’s time for you to sleep.”

“But I just wanna see,” You protest weakly.

“Nice try. I know you. You’ll sit in front of that window for hours if I let you.”

You give in only because he was right. Cityscapes of any kind drew your attention like a moth to a flame. You pouted anyway, but let him take you to the bedroom. Gentle pressure on your shoulders had you sinking into the plush mattress, groaning at the luxurious softness. Pierre laughs as he helps you out of your shoes and jeans, leaving the hoodie.

Eyelids drooping, you climb under the covers Pierre had pulled back for you. He tucks you in and kisses your temple. You grab for him, tugging on his shirt until he stoops down and gives you a proper kiss. When he steps out of your grasp, you panic.

“Stay,” You mumble, fear bubbling in your chest. He had to stay, he couldn’t leave, not when you only had this one night left-

“I’m just taking off my shoes,” He assures you, his weight sliding in behind you to settle against your back. You sigh, moulding yourself to him as best you could. Being in his arms was somehow familiar, even if he’d never held you like this. It felt like home.

“Pierre?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Pillowy soft lips press to the nape of your neck. “I love you too, mon coeur.”

Tagging: @flashcal

[peakascum]

Bury Me

This is kind of shit. Sounded better in my head. Also sorry for Linda, just needed for you to visualize one scene. Anyway, inspired by this song? Maybe at the beginning? Idk heard it as I wrote it. Still hope u likeee. 

Part 2  |  Part 3

The family wore tense shoulders and face splitting frowns as if they were a trend. Stone cold eyes, as well as doubtful ones, always seemed to follow like accessories to their distinguishable rigidness. But as of right now their lungs gasped for air and their cold, doubtful eyes settled upon the two oldest brothers.

“Thomas,” whispered Polly in disbelief.

“It’s our best shot. Otherwise we will be asking for war.” Tommy replied looking directly into Arthur’s eyes. The latter stared intently at his brother almost at a loss for words. 

“Tommy,” he started, “I’d do anything for the business and the family, but this… this is out of the question.” He swallowed the thick lump in his throat, yet unable to fully recover from the echo of his brother’s words. 

“She’s the only one who can help us-“

“She’ll die, Tommy.” 

“She won’t. She’ll be protected by the Peaky Bli-“

“She won’t! Don’t matter how many men you send, it only takes a bullet Tommy!” Arthur roared from his seat. 

Ada stared at both her brothers in disbelief- a shadow of disappointment at witnessing the depths in which her family would go for a penny more. But it wasn't about the money and they all knew. It was life or death- a war in the making that would potentially end not just the Shelby empire, but the Shelby name. 

Arthur stood up shakily, running a hand through his face and combing his hair back in a frantic manner and left. All except Polly followed him out as if on a silent strike, leaving her glaring at her raven haired nephew. 

“You're using his loyalty against him. You know he follows orders, you know he’s obedient-“

“Poll-“

“Don’t! This is inexcusable, even for you. They both love and look up to you. They have dedicated and risked so much for this family and I will not stand by and watch him lose her- I won’t lose her!” Polly said in a thick voice that surprised Tommy, but not herself. She loved you like a daughter.

He looked down at his desk with a clenched jaw and tight fists, “The meeting is already set up. They will be expecting to see her. Decision is hers to make and that’s final.”

Polly stood up and scoffed in disgust. “Shame on you Thomas Shelby, shame on you.” With that she left a sulking Tommy by himself. Now by his lonesome he allowed his face to fall in an uncharacteristic pout. 

*

Arthur opened the front door with careful hands, mind still rattled by Tommy’s proposition. 

“Oh, Arthur, you're home!” You squealed, whipping around from the stove to face him. Your hair was in disarray, apron and face stained with what he could only presume was tomato sauce.

“Ain’t this a sight.” He chuckled.

“I’m cooking something for once. Can’t keep scrapping bread and whisky every night and I thought a home cooked meal would be nice, yeah? I know it’s a mess but it’s all fix-“ He cut off your rambling with a passionate kiss that made your eyes flutter shut and your body melt like butter. His hands cupped your tomato-stained face as your lips smacked against each other. Tongues dancing in a delightful waltz that made him light on his toes. 

You gasped as he pulled you both apart, a smirk decorating your face in disbelief at his sudden burst of love, “What was that for?”

“For being here.” He sighed in blissed out tenderness.

“Silly man, you knew I’d be early tonight.”

“What, can’t a man love on his woman?” He scolded playfully, earning a whole hearted laughed from you. 

You turned around and continued stirring the sauce, still dizzy from the kiss. You both fell into easy routine of asking and answering about each other’s days, but Arthur’s mind was elsewhere, to which you attributed to troubles in the business. As you attempted to save the clumping sauce, your son came in a euphoric state at the sight of his father. George was Arthur’s carbon copy, at least physically. His personality was all yours.

You and Arthur had been married since before the war but had George a few months after he returned. Although very different from them, the Shelby’s loved and admired you as if you were one of their own. You were one of the only women who was allowed to practice law, and given that you grew in the slums of Small Heath you became an expert negotiator and advisor for many companies, small businesses, and of course, the Shelby Company Lmtd. 

But words weren't enough to express how much you were loved by the family. They had not known kindness like yours. You had let your admiration for them be known, something that never ceased to amaze them. 

Once dinner was over and your child put to bed, you made your way over to Arthur, who sat by the fire in his own quiet bubble. 

“What’s on your mind, bird?” You asked, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Tommy just… said the stupidest thing today,” He began.

“Oh?”

“He- uh- there’s this other gang from Manchester that keeps taunting us. Spreading rumors, killing our men, caused a frenzy back in London,” he paused to take a breath, “anyway, apparently they know more about us than we thought and they're demanding a truce, a division of assets or some shit.”

“Nothing that hasn't happened before,” you shrugged in response.

“True,” he hummed, “but these men are smarter than we thought, smarter than us. They want to make a deal with ‘ a more educated individual’” he said miming quotation marks with his hands.

“As far as education goes it doesn't really matter, does it? Tommy has done many-“

“They want you, love,” he cut you off in a beat, “They want you as the negotiator.” He looked at you with a pained expression.

“I- how do they know who I am? I don’t- I’m practically invisible-“

“They know everything ‘bout us. Wives, jobs, schooling, our fuckin’ childhood! They-“ he cut himself off quickly knowing how agitated he could get. Now was not the time for that. “They are ruthless Y/N. If you go they will kill you.”

“You don’t know that. I could help. I know my way around these men, I could steer them in another direction.” You frowned at him.

“I didn’t tell you so you’d consider.” 

“Well I am. I imagine there could be a large sum of money and- and if Tommy needs the help I’m there.”

“Y/N-“

“I said I’m in Arthur!” You raised your voice slightly, eyes widening with finality and a daring tone that angered Arthur further. 

“What if you die then, eh? What then? Leave me without a wife, leave a kid without his mother?”

“Keep your voice down Arthur! That won’t happen. Trust me with this, I can outsmart them better than anyone ever could.”

That night your house trembled with never ending arguments fueled by stubbornness and, well, love. Your determination did little to quiet his suffering heart as a dreadful picture of loss was painted before him. Because tomato stains may as well be a splatter of blood, as well as loving giggles could turn into teary pleadings from an open wound. 

[seokmingiggles]

clematis.

@merakiiverse requested on 210315: "Hihihi as sanlanchan's manager I would love to request a lyric song drabble prompt!! Can I request 31 with Woozi please? 💜"

Song lyric prompt 31: “When you called me, I became your flower.” BTS; Serendipity.

Find the rest of the prompts here!

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x gender neutral reader

Genre: fluff, mutual crushes, college!au if you squint.

1.04k words

No warnings.

“As much as my heart flutters, I’m just as afraid.”

Alternatively, Jihoon is the type of flower that blooms beneath your light. (And sometimes, that light happens even before the sun has risen.)

A/N: Hi, Meraki! Thank you for the request :D It turns out I went in a completely different direction after that day I asked you for your favourite flower. Anyways, I think the scenario that follows somewhat matches the lovely fic you wrote for me the other month. (I still think about that one a lot ;-; thank you again for writing that one for me, wah.) I hope it's okay !!! <3

Here is the song that I used to inspire this fic, along with its lyrics.

•• His phone lights up with a buzz from the side of his bed. Jihoon groans out, the light rousing him from whatever half-asleep state he'd previously been in—tossing and turning for most of the night, only recently finding comfort.

"Why–" the boy's voice croaks out before he clears his throat, eyes squinting when he picks up the device.

Are you awake? I'm hungryyy :((

Jihoon taps his thumbs rapidly: "I'm awake now," he mumbles as he sends his message.

His hands fall to the side of his head, eyes slowly closing once more until he feels the vibration of an incoming call on his palm.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Ji, sorry to have woken you," your voice is somewhat hushed across the line.

"It's fine," the boy says despite his forehead creasing, "I'm awake now. Is everything okay?"

He hears you hum as you think.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you begin, "I just can't sleep. And I'm hungry. And, maybe," you draw the word out, "if you're awake too, would you like to come over?"

Every ounce of exhaustion weighing Jihoon down and into his mattress screams out, No, but the soft lilt of your voice raising at the end of your question allows him to say, "Sure," without faltering.

No one else, the boy thinks to himself as he walks across the campus paths and in the direction of your dorms, could allow me to leave the comfort of my duvet at nearly four in the morning.

Well, maybe Soonyoung, his other best friend, could, too. (Although tonight isn't about him.)

The wind at dawn ruffles through Jihoon's hair, already tousled with sleep. Goosebumps tingle along the back of his neck; he pulls his coat tighter around his torso. The sky already seems like it's become lighter with the passing time—soon, the beginnings of the sunrise will emerge from behind the campus buildings.

In no time, Jihoon arrives at your dorm—only a tall door separating him from seeing you. He sends a quick text as a quieter option to knocking.

The door handle slightly rattles before it opens to reveal you: eyes lighting up and a beaming smile already plastered on your face at your greeting.

"Hi," he replies; a small giggle erupts from Jihoon's throat at your eagerness to usher him inside your room. "You're lucky your roommate is away, or else you wouldn't be able to get away with things like this."

"I know," your hand finds your friend's wrist in a gentle clutch as you make your way over to your small couch, fingertips buzzing as you let go of him shortly after.

"Why can't you sleep? Have you slept at all tonight?"

You nod, "I did, but I woke up craving something sweet, so–"

"So you ate—what are those?—chocolates? In the middle of the night?" Jihoon eyes the colourful bag in your grasp, "You know those have caffeine in them, right–"

"I know, I couldn't help myself! I forgot to put them away so there they were: in sight on my desk. And, of course, I couldn't just have one–"

"Why am I here?"

"So you can finish these for me!"

Jihoon exchanges a glance from you to the bag of bite-sized chocolates in your outstretched hand.

When you called him—

"Please?" you add with a smile.

—he became your flower.

Jihoon shakes his head, trying his best to fight the small grin forming upon his lips (but failing miserably at hiding his amusement before you can notice).

You nearly coo at the colour rising to the boy's cheeks.

As if he's drawn to your radiance, your sunshine you beam upon him, Jihoon blooms and opens up another side of himself. It's to you and only you—the place where he can show his true colours, the different petals that make up his exterior; what lies beneath those petals: his soft centre that's more sensitive than he'd openly admit.

Before he knows it, Jihoon has his hand reached inside the bag of chocolates, grabbing a few of the colourful discs in his fist and popping them into his mouth.

I don't even like chocolate very much, especially not at four in the morning.

You lean back with a deep exhale after rambling on about some late-night thought that the boy wouldn't be able to repeat back to you.

It's not that he's not listening to you—your voice calms him, eases him; soft intonations match the dim lighting from a nearby streetlamp illuminating the paths outside.

Something feels different.

Something in the air—something about being in your presence, perhaps—or maybe it's because the sun is beginning to become seen from outside your window: a physical, visible shift before his eyes.

Jihoon allows himself to look over at you as you look out the window.

You're pressed into the backing of the couch, head leaning back and eyes gazing off at nothing in particular. The remnants of a smile could be tasted on your lips.

Along with chocolate, I'm sure, Jihoon mulls over—but no, why is he again thinking about what would be evident on your lips when he knows you don't feel the same way about him–

"Jihoon?"

"Hm?" The boy's heart nearly lurches out of his chest.

"You're staring again."

"Oh—sorry—I just– I think I'm tired, that's all," he shrugs his thoughts away, disposing them along with the disappearing moon.

You lightly chuckle at Jihoon's blatant awkwardness. He may not be the best at conveying what he truly feels, but that doesn't mean you don't find him endearing throughout it all. Other late nights, similar to this, he's always come over after you've called him or sent him a quick message.

The two of you understand each other. Words aren't a necessity—even now, as you and Jihoon bask in the slow ascent of the sun, perhaps akin to sunflowers, facing the rising rays.

You turn to face Jihoon, who is already peering at you with the most gentle of smiles.

His facial features are round, reminding you of a flower whose name does nothing but reside on the tip of your tongue, too far from reach for you to spill from your lips and wash him in your words.

Instead, whichever flower it is—you're positive it captures Jihoon perfectly—you keep it to yourself. 

••

[whitefawnn]

blood letting (pt. 3)

(c!wilbur x reader)

spoilers for 4/29 stream

pt. 1   pt. 2 pt. 4 pt. 5   AO3

warnings: manipulation, vampires, swearing, gas lighting, threats

note: Read the Warnings

not heavily proof read also,,,

Wilbur stormed out that day, jaw clenched, he didn’t spare me any words after the kiss. I thought I had learned how to live without him due to the months spent apart but knowing the distance wasn’t created by one of us being 7 feet underground made me feel sick. The danger of Dream escaping loomed around every corner. I warned Tommy, and he subsequently he spared me words of Wilbur’s state. Saying he rambled about Dream being his hero, the image made me feel woozy, almost enough to make me faint. I didn’t tell Sam. Maybe it was because I didn’t want him to hunt down Wilbur. Maybe I couldn’t bear to be the cause of his death or, if he was lucky, imprisonment.

I hadn’t been well since the night with Wilbur, my body still reeling from the blood loss it wasn’t able to recover from, I had been too anxious and high-strung to keep down food. A static forever lingered on the edges of my vision, my skin becoming increasingly pale. I wasn’t a pretty sight and I tried to avoid looking in the mirror whenever possible, eyes glued to the porcelain counter of my bathroom. 

I jumped as a shrill sound, high-pitched and disorienting, rang in my ears. I quickly covered them with my shaky hands, stumbling out into my living room. The radio that sat on the kitchen counter was the source of the insufferable crying. The message began then, my stomach sinking.

EMERGENCY ALERT. EMERGENCY ALERT.

A PRISONER HAS ESCAPED THE PRISON, ALL RESIDENTS IN CLOSE PROXIMITY ARE REQUIRED TO LOCK THEIR DOORS AND STAY INSIDE. DO NOT LET ANY STRANGERS IN. STAY AWAY FROM ALL ENTRANCES UNTIL ANOTHER ALERT IS ISSUED WHEN THE PROBLEM IS RESOLVED

The message continued to repeat as I desperately reached to unplug the metal box. I felt my heart begin to race as it slammed into the ground; Pieces of machinery now littered across the tile floor. Suddenly I was dizzy, my vision becoming black, my thoughts hazy. The metallic shards dug into my knees as I fell. The last thing that crossed my mind was that I never had the chance to lock my door.

I awoke to the rattling of the door nob then the subtle creak of it swinging open. I was paralyzed by fear as I slowly strayed back into reality, I don’t think I would be able to move even if someone wasn’t breaking in. I rolled my ankles, trying to regain feeling.

 “They really left their door unlocked?” a male voice questioned. I tried to focus on where the footsteps went as the sound trailed closer. My body ached as I struggled to get up; my hands stiff as I laid them flat against the cold floor. Fuck just get up. I pleaded with my body as I attempted to push myself. Every limb felt full of lead.

“Hm, what do we have here?” it was Dream’s voice that came from behind me. I weakly groaned, giving up on remaining hidden from the terrifying figure that loomed over me. “y/n, tch tch. You left your door wide open, and what a sad sight you are.” He leaned down next to me. “Where’s Wilbur, hm?” he asked now close to my ear. My eyes were closed tight, but I dared to look at him. His face was littered with fresh scabs and healed over scars, his iconic mask nowhere to be seen. One of his eyes was bruised purple and green, yellow spread across his face from the focal point of the severe black eye. His pupils seemed impossibly small, and his hair had become unkempt having grown into a crude mullet after his time spent in the prison. 

“Wilbur,” I whined out once again desperately trying to push myself to my knees, I winced, the metal under me digging into my shifting body.

“Wilbur-” he mocked me with a laugh. “I think you owe me too, y/n. I brought you Wilbur didn’t I?” a wave of nausea came over me. My body seemed to realize what danger I was in giving me the little strength it took to scurry away from the over imposing man. He grinned at me, squatting down on the heels of his feet. I felt like a caged wild animal.

“Dream?” I watched as his face feigned relief at the voice.

“Wilbur!” Wilbur. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Thought you would be here to see them, but I guess I beat you to the punch hm?” he was now standing above me, my back pressed firmly against cabinets.

“Are they here?”  Wilbur strode over to stand by Dream, his features immediately softened when he looked down at me. He rushed to my side, hand caressing my face. “Hello, darling.” he cooed at me “you don’t look so good” I numbly nodded, leaning into his touch. Wilbur didn’t look so great himself, his hair was wild and his skin made him seem sickly. Yellow peaking out and overpowering any pink that could have been there if not for the low lighting. He looked one good hit away from dying if I’m being honest.

“We need to leave, lover boy. I have horses from Techno tied up in the back. You are a wanted criminal now, keep that in mind when you think about wasting time here.” Dream’s face was one of disinterest as his eyes remained locked on the wide-open door. “5 minutes,” he mumbled, leaving the two of us alone. Wilbur pulled me up from the ground and into his arms, sitting us both on the couch like we had days before. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into the crook of my neck. I breathed in the smell of his hair relaxing into his arms. The closeness of our bodies communicative without words. I felt relieved to see him, but I couldn’t ignore what he had done.

“Wilbur, Dream he,” I went over the things he had done in my head while staring at Wilbur’s form. I pursed my lips. Did Wilbur freeing him make him complacent in those actions, in hurting my friends? What did it make me?

“I know, I know, dear.” he dismissed me. “We have to go with Dream. We are gonna go somewhere safe.” I tilted my head as he pulled away from my neck. His wine eyes intense, body rigid. He leaned towards me again, face a few inches from my own. I felt apprehension at the intimacy. He seemed out of it, his expression far away and blissed out. “You smell so good, darling” he muttered pressing his face into my hair. “Fuck, I’ll be right back” Wilbur gently set me on the other side of the couch rushing to the bedroom, He came out with a bag. 

“What’s that?” I inquired still feeling as faint as I had in recent days.

“Just some of your clothes,” he waved away my concern “we have to go” 

“Go where?” he shook his head. 

“Dream knows, we just need to get out of here.” Wilbur pulled my hand, getting me up from the couch. 

“But my home.” I mumbled, shuffling my feet.

“We don’t have time for this, y/n.”

“We’re leaving so many people behind and for what, for Dream?” I argued, yanking my hand out of his own to point at where Dream was waiting. Emotions built in my chest as I glanced around the small comfortable house. Memories painted in every corner, things I didn’t want to leave behind. 

“No,” he gritted his teeth, snatching my hand back and using it to tug me towards him, only a few inches from his face “because I’m fucking wanted, y/n. This isn’t for Dream, this is for us.” he spoke with his jaw clenched, his sharp canines more visible. I shut my mouth, immediately looking away from his face. He led me out the back door where two horses waited. 

“Ready?” Dream said sat on his black steed. He ran his eyes over me with distaste, it made shivers travel down my spine. “We really taking them?” Wilbur hoisted me up onto the horse then slid himself behind me. My back was flush against his chest, his arms caging me in order to properly hold the reins. 

“Shut up, Dream.”

[arianatwycross]

I’m not sure if someone has sent you this one already, but 4 for Jily.

I was such a fan of the first one I figured if you’re up for it I’ll send more!!!

yay thank you! I actually love doing these so here's another one - lots of fluff so beware!

For the prompt: I’m supposed to be mad at you but you’re holding my face and smiling and I just can’t resist it when you’re pouting like that

“Mate, she’s going to actually kill you this time around”

“She won’t, she loves me” James replies with a toothy grin.

“Has she actually admitted to that yet though?” Sirius questions.

“Course she loves me, she wouldn't publicly go out with me otherwise”

“You are more than three hours late, AND it's her birthday” Sirius states, raising one eyebrow at his mate.

“But I bear gifts!” James replies, a tad too enthusiastically.

“I hope those gifts are good enough for you to not get dumped” Sirius mutters.

They all climb through the portrait hole and brush down their cloaks. Dirt and dust clings to their clothes, and only Remus has half a mind to actually use magic to rid them of all evidence of their antics.

“If James was more organised, we could have gotten her present last weekend instead of the day of” Remus states, heading towards their dorm.

“I told you Mr Flume said he could only get the next shipment in today, and it's not my fault that a plethora of small children were there for a birthday” James pushes past a grumpy Sirius and runs towards the dorm. It's that late, that no one is in the common room anymore and he hopes he can somehow get to Lily before it hits midnight.

He flings open the door, to find Remus sitting on the end of his bed and a red-faced Lily sitting at the headboard. Her red hair in a messy braid and her arms pulled tightly around her knees.

“Lils! There you are!”

Lily gives him a look he hasn’t seen since the start of the year. One that usually coincided with a nasty hex or a detention.

“I’m going to leave you to it and I’ll keep the boys downstairs for a tad longer too” Remus gives Lily a tight smile before tapping her knee and leaving the two alone.

“I’m so sorry Lils, I know I’m stupidly late and it's your birthday and you probably thought I stood you up but the boys can attest to where I was!-”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses James” Lily said in a voice so soft and weary, his heart did a depressing flop in his chest.

“Just wait - let me get your present”

“I don’t think a present will help you” She started to say and if his heart wasn’t racing with his efforts of diving under his bed and dragging out her gift, he probably would have been so emotionally distraught at her words that he could have just stood there and cried.

“Here”

He thrusted a small present into her hands, wrapped in shiny red paper with a small green bow on top. She held it apprehensively, her eyes on the brink of tears. He slowly sat on the edge of his bed, keeping his knees away from hers. He longed to touch her, he always did but now didn’t seem like the right time to be clingy.

“Please Lils, this is just your first present. But I was trying to find your other present tonight, I had to get it ordered in and then I got an owl saying it had been delivered and I’m so sorry but please please open this one at least” His voice started to crack slightly, and he was suddenly aware of how much he actually felt for the girl sitting in front of him. It was all-consuming and almost debilitating and his heart hurt just looking at her.

She thumbed the ribbon until it spilled open and carefully tore the paper away from the box. She held the small velvet black box in her palm and cautiously opened it to find a thin silver chain necklace with her mother’s pendant. She gasped slightly, her green eyes wide and slightly wet with tears.

“How did you get this?” she whispered.

“I got Mary to knick it from your jewellery box. I know the chain you had broke last year and I missed seeing it on you.” He watched for a reaction but she just kept staring at the small circular St Michaels pendant, the silver recently polished by the jeweller James had visited months before.

“Turn it over,” he whispered.

On the back of the silver pendant were engraved words.

“Love is magic”

Lily’s body shook silently as a wave of tears rattled her body.

“I’m sorry love” James murmured, immediately moving to her side and wrapping one arm around her. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I thought you would like it”.

She hiccupped before tilting her head up to look at him properly.

“How did you know my mum said that?”

“You mentioned it a couple of times. You know that time you were telling me about how your mum and dad met and she used to believe it was magic that brought them together? You said that was in their vows, you thought it was ironic considering you turned out to have magic. Two halves made you - magic” he squeezed his hand around hers that still clasped the jewellery box.

She pulled away suddenly, making James heart race erratically.

“Wait - Lils! Don’t go! I have something else. It seems stupid now and totally not worth making you wait and I really am sorry” he rambled, his nerves making his entire body tremble. He couldn’t quite believe he had really fucked things up. This was Lily, his Lily, he knew he would never be able to get over the heartbreak of her leaving him.

He pulled a parcel out from his invisibility cloak.

“I didn’t have time to wrap it...obviously” he said forlornly.

She pulled it gently from his hands and pulled back the brown paper. A large bag of multiple packets of Fizz Wiz laid before her.

And she laughed.

His heart rate spiked and he sat on the edge of his bed, in awe of the way she flipped her head back and laughed freely.

“Where did you get these from?” she asked, a large smile lightening up her face, her eyes and cheeks still wet from her tears.

“I had to get Mr Flume from Honeydukes to order them in, specially. There’s no muggle shop around here that sells them and I know they’re your favourite and I know that Mary sometimes gets her mum to send them to you but I also realised you hadn’t been sent any in a while so I thought I would stock you up” he rambled, again. He couldn’t help it, he always lost his cool around her. He was nervous and quite terrified of losing her and it made his brain run a hundred miles a minute.

“James, slow down” she grabbed his knee and squeezed it. The sudden touch sent a warm relief of comfort down his spine and he instantly relaxed. She was ok.

She looked at the sweets fondly. James watched as another tear made its way down her pretty face. Before he knew it, he was kneeled in front of her on his bed and cupping her face with his hands. Her big eyes stared back at him.

“I am so sorry Lils. I wanted to make today perfect and I sincerely ruined it for you. There’s no excuse for me being late, none that make it worth it anyway” He stroked her warm cheeks with his thumbs.

They stayed that way for a few seconds, both of them looking at each other.

“I love you” he said softly. He poured every emotion into his words, knowing that this was either the worst or best time to say it for the first time.

He waited for her to frown, or even pull his hands away from her face but instead he was shocked to find her smile back.

“I’m supposed to be mad at you,” she whispered.

Her green eyes twinkled, the familiar spark made James excitedly pull himself closer to her.

“You can be” he whispered back.

Her gaze was pulled towards the velvet box sprawled on his bed.

“Thank you for the presents” she said softly, a small smile itched at her mouth.

He pulled himself towards her, taking his hands off her cheeks before pulling her legs apart and wrapping them around his waist. She wrapped her arms around him, sitting on his lap so they were as close as they could be.

“I love you too” She whispered before softly pressing her lips to his.

[12tardis]

Empire Line (Part 2/3) Newt Scamander x Reader

Warnings: angst. Yeah loooooook I’m sorry…it’s been a rough year

Summary: Newt has been in love with you since your second year at Hogwarts. You have been in love with Newt for nearly as long. You’re both ridiculously oblivious and you think he has feelings for Tina. Will Newt set the record straight before he loses you for good? (Newt for present day Newt and other Newt in italics for future Newt)

Pairings: Newt Scamander x Reader, Reader x OC (super brief) A/N: This is part 2- and actually the first part I ever wrote of this story when I was feeling particularly angsty. Sorry Newt ☹

Title: Empire Line by The National – this band has saved my life honestly . Love u 5 sad dads

Taglist (I LOVE YALL): @auror-lovie @moonkissk7 @sagittarius-flowerchild @fishdonttouch @cal-ifornication @haileygarciasunshine @cherryobx @swiftspaperings @tillyreads

“Alistair’s moving to South America to research the flora and fauna over there.”

Newt only blinked back at you dumbly, so you spoke up again.

“I said I’d go with him.”

“Newt?” You called his name when he just stood there staring at you wordlessly.

He blinked a few times slowly and his eyes focused back on you, though he was still dazed “sorry what?”

“I said, I’m moving to South America. Alistair asked me to go with him. We leave in a month” You repeated yourself slowly, looking at Newt in concern when he still didn’t respond.

There was a ringing in Newt’s ears as he stood in front of you, gaping at you like a fish out of water. A month. You were leaving in a month.

“Newt,” you reached out towards him and Newt suddenly jumped into action, dodging your touch.

“Oh wow!...that’s great Y/N, I’m really happy for you.” He managed to muster up a fake bright smile and a believable tone despite the way his heart was threatening to shatter in his chest.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his enthusiastic response and you couldn’t help but feel a little put out that he was seemingly so excited for you to leave.“Thanks.” You paused “so what did you have to tell me?”

Newt managed to keep the smile plastered onto his face as he looked back at you “oh, just that the baby occamies finally hatched,” he said without missing a beat.

It wasn’t a complete lie because it was true- the occamies had hatched. It just wasn’t what he’d been meaning to tell you, but he knew now he’d lost his chance and he needed to remove himself before he completely crumbled in front of you.

So, he clapped his hands, causing you to startle slightly “right! I should get to bed now. I just wanted to tell you about the occamies. I’ll see you in the morning.” He spoke rapidly, not looking at you once before he was practically sprinting to his room and slamming the door behind him just as the first tear fell from his eyes.

-     -     -     -     -     -      -     -     -     -     -     -    -     -     -     -     -     -

Several weeks had passed now and everything had continued on as usual between you and Newt.

It had been a little tense and awkward the day after you’d broken the news to Newt but when you’d wrapped him up in a tight hug the following night he couldn’t help but melt and realise he didn’t want to spend your last few weeks together moping around and avoiding you.

So he continued on treating you like he usually would, blissfully denying all knowledge of you leaving him at the end of the month.

You were due to leave in exactly one week now and Newt was in the kitchen fixing himself a cup of tea after breakfast. He felt his stomach drop when he noticed the empty spot on the window sill where you usually kept some of your framed photos on display. You had already started packing your possessions away slowly but surely.

He sighed sadly to himself as he stared at the window ledge, looking up when you appeared beside him, grasping his arm.

“Hey, I was thinking we could go for a picnic by the lake today? For old times sake.” You suggested with a soft smile.

Newt turned to face you, shaking his head with an apologetic smile “I’d love to but I’m meeting with the owner of Flourish and Blotts today about stocking my book.”

“Oh! No Newt that’s wonderful!” You gushed, smiling brightly at him and he only felt more miserable realising he only had a week left of seeing that smile.

“Oh, don’t look so down, we can just go tomorrow. Go and sell your book!” You grasped his shoulders, bouncing on your heels excitedly “you can tell me all about it when you get back.”

The pure excitement on your face managed to pull him from his sour mood and he soon found himself smiling back at you. “Okay picnic tomorrow,” he nodded, laying his hands over your arms as you were still gripping his shoulders.

The both of you stood there for a few moments in each other's arms, gazing back at one another. Newt was the first to look away, clearing his throat as he glanced down at his watch “I better go. I’ll be back before dinner.”

-     -     -     -     -     -      -     -     -     -     -     -    -     -     -     -     -     -

Not much later he found himself wandering down Diagon Alley with his case in hand. He’d made good time, so he decided to stop in at some of the other shops in search of a farewell gift for you.

A set of earrings caught his eye and he was busy trying to see the price of them as his case began to rattle in his hand. He looked down just in time to see the unmistakable flurry of dark fur that was his Niffler, bolting across the street.  

“Get back here!” Newt groaned, fixing the loose clasp on his case before he dashed after the creature, wondering what on earth had caught his attention over the jewellery store he’d just left behind.

He groaned again when he saw the Niffler scurrying into what appeared to be a tiny shop selling nothing but mirrors and he quickly followed after the creature.

“Merlin,” Newt breathed out when he was in the shop, feeling disoriented when he was standing in the middle of a room that held what must have been hundreds of mirrors in all different shapes and sizes along the walls.

He saw absolutely no sign of the Niffler, in fact there was absolutely no movement in the shop save for himself and the faint trail of what he assumed was incense swirling above his head.

“Ah you must be the Magizoologist, I‘ve been expecting you. A couple months late but nevertheless, welcome my boy.”

Newt spun around when he heard a rugged voice, tipping his head aside with furrowed brows when he saw a complete stranger standing before him. It was tall and slim elderly man with long, scraggly white hair and disarmingly blue eyes.

“I’m sorry?” Newt frowned as the man walked towards him. “I don’t believe we’ve met…” He trailed off and his eyes widened as the strange man grasped his face in his palms, inspecting him closely.

“...yet you seem to know me…”, Newt squeaked, standing stock still as the man continued to look him over. He knew he probably should have been running from the strange man, or at the very least should have felt some shred of concern or discomfort but the man had a strangely welcoming aura about him.

“Yes. Newton Artemis Fido Scamander!” The man suddenly burst out, causing Newt to flinch slightly “You may call me Janus, if you so wish. I will also respond to Mr.Galloglass, sometimes even Mr.G but let’s not get ahead of ourselves shall we?”, Mr. Galloglass said, patting Newt a few times on the cheek with a wry smile before he finally released him from his hold.

Mr. Galloglass swiftly turned away from Newt, his long tweed coat swishing behind him as he began inspecting a particular row of mirrors “I believe you’ve lost something yes? Your little echidna looking thing. Such cheeky little creatures those ones are. I suppose he’s not the reason you’re late to see me though,” the old man rambled on as he continued to inspect the mirrors.

Newt was still stood frozen on the spot as he stared at the eccentric old man, wondering what on earth he was rambling on about and how he knew who he was. He was about to ask him exactly that when Mr.Galloglass suddenly rushed over to him again.

He yanked Newt’s left hand into his own causing Newt to grunt in surprise. Galloglass lifted it close to his face and began inspecting his palm with wide eyes. “What on ear-“

“Ah! You’re at an Empire Line young man”, he exclaimed, looking up at Newt and then back down at his palm, raising his eyebrows “no correction! You’re on an Empire Line that is juuuuust about to split.”

Newt felt his frustration bubbling to the surface when Mr. Galloglass only made less and less sense but then something behind the man caught his eye. He let out a breath of realisation when he spotted the crystal ball that was sat atop the small table in the adjoining room.

“You’re a seer?” Newt cut in, looking back at the man quizzically.

“Like my father and grandfather before me,” Mr. Galloglass confirmed, thrusting Newt into the adjoining room without any warning until he stood in front of the biggest mirror in the entire shop. It was about a foot taller than Newt and it had a dark ornate frame.

“In you go!”, Mr. Oldridge pushed Newt towards the mirror but Newt resisted, looking back at the man in the murky reflection in utter confusion and mild alarm “what?!”

“You want to know what an Empire Line is and besides, that’s where your Niffler ran off to. You know what they say- there’s no time like the present!”

He cackled at his own joke and pushed Newt forward again with much more force this time and Newt staggered forward, trying to catch himself on the mirror instinctively and yelping when he only fell through the surface.

And as he fell through it the mirror he suddenly recalled the words of his brother.

“...You need to tell her before you have to watch her move on with someone who can never love her like you do...”

Newt gasped when he stumbled to his feet and he was miraculously standing by the doorway inside of a huge cathedral.

The first thing he noticed was the rows and rows of people packed into the stalls, his eyes then taking in the floral arrangements that sat on the end of each row.

It must be a wedding.

It was incredibly loud, he realised because the organ was blaring what must have been the processional. He fidgeted anxiously as he took in his surroundings and he only grew more confused when he spotted a rather grim looking Theseus standing in the front row of stalls by the altar of the church.

His brother's gaze seemed to be transfixed on the front of the church and Newt followed his line of sight, his eyes widening and jaw dropping when he saw HIMSELF standing at the front of the church dressed in a fancy suit.

What on earth was happening?

What did Galloglass mean by an Empire Line?

Was he seeing his future?

His eyes quickly scanned the line of people this other version of himself was standing beside, realising he didn’t recognise a single one of the groomsmen.

There was a complete stranger standing where the Groom would traditionally stand and Newt furrowed his brows. What was he doing at a strangers wedding?...he realised though that he did recognise a fair few of the guests sat on the same side as Theseus.

He spun around when the bridal party began to enter the cathedral and his eyes widened when he caught sight of Tina and Queenie all dressed up and walking gracefully down the carpeted aisle.

“Tina...Queenie!” he waved at the sisters, trying desperately to catch their attention and frowning when they didn’t notice him at all.

He recognised the next woman in the processional as Mona, your childhood friend followed by your sister and Newt began to notice the dread settling in his stomach.

He had a niggling feeling that no one could see or hear him in this strange reality he’d been tossed into and his suspicions were proven correct just a minute later.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the guests all turned to face the entrance of the cathedral in anticipation.  

He turned to face the doorway too, his ears ringing and his heart pounding when he saw you enter the church in a huge white gown. The veil you wore was completely obscuring your face but he knew it was you.

“Y/N”, he called out, reaching for you instinctively and only growing more distressed when his hand passed through your arm. You clearly couldn’t see him. No one could see or hear him and he felt tears well in his eyes as he watched you make your way down the aisle towards the unknown man.

The other Newt had a small smile plastered on his face but it didn’t meet his eyes as he watched you stop in front of the groom, letting the other man take your hands. It was clear to see that he was dying inside.

It was like his own personal hell. Everything was wrong.

Firstly, why were you getting married in a church? You weren’t religious and you’d always told him how you wanted to be married outdoors in a small garden ceremony.

Why were there white roses everywhere? You loved vibrant colours and despised roses.

The floral arrangements weren’t anything like you would usually choose and that dress was nothing like any dress you’d ever worn before.

You looked...out of place and he was certain it wasn’t just because it should have been him stood where the groom was. He had admittedly fantasised about what it might be like to marry you one day and this ceremony was clearly the polar opposite in every single respect.

Nothing made sense. You weren’t visibly brimming with joy like you would normally be when you were excited. Usually your excitement was infectious but here you looked like a robot. Even Tina and Queenie looked concerned standing beside you.

And the groom. Newt swallowed thickly as he took him in properly, his stomach churning at the smarmy and almost smug smile the man wore.

The ceremony carried on for what felt like hours and Newt resigned himself realising there was nothing he could do to stop it. Here he was just a fly on the wall. He had to look away when the groom tipped you back, planting a firm kiss on your lips and clutching you against himself as the guests applauded and the other groomsmen cheered.

The last thing he noticed was the look of utter defeat on the other Newt’s face before his surroundings rapidly changed.

He gasped when the room suddenly morphed around him and he was now standing inside a hospital room, seeing you looking tired and worn out in a hospital bed. You were clutching a tiny baby in your arms with the other Newt by your side, watching you in concern.

He watched as you looked up at the other Newt, taking his hand tiredly “thank you for being here...I don’t think I could have done this on my own”, you murmured. He watched this slightly older version of himself squeeze your hand and bend down to drop a kiss to the top of your head “I will always be here when you need me...but he really should have been here, Y/N.”

“Oh Newt, you know he’s on a business trip. It’s fine.” you said quietly, looking down at the baby in your arms as he watched the other Newt clench his jaw in response. He found himself mirroring the action.

Your husband wasn’t here with you for the birth of your baby?

What kind of man had you gone and married?

You looked so tired and sad and not at all like the Y/N, he knew and loved.

Newt was broken from his musings when a nurse entered the room and he took one last look at the look of sad resignation on your face before the room suddenly shifted around him again.

This time he was thrown into a chair at a large dining table and he blinked a few times, gripping the table to steady himself. Now he was sitting across from you and the other Newt watching as you poured him a cup of tea, a young toddler hugged to your side.

Some time had clearly passed because you were both a little older and he assumed the child in your arms was the same baby from just before. You were still breathtakingly beautiful but now you looked frail, the smile never quite reaching your eyes as you spoke with your friend over tea.

And he could tell from the way the other Newt was staring at you, hanging off your every word that he was still just as in love with you even though you’d married and started a family with someone else.

“Y/N, where is he? From your letters...it sounds like he’s always alway.”

You laughed bitterly and looked away from the other Newt, turning the wedding band on your finger shakily “He’s probably off screwing his assistant.”

Newt felt his blood run cold and he opened his mouth to talk before he realised that you couldn’t see him and the other Newt looked completely affronted as he set his tea cup down with too much force, shattering the saucer on the table.

“He’s cheating on you!?”, he asked, his voice high and strained as he quickly cleared up the mess he’d made, shooing you away when you tried to help. The last thing you needed was to cut your hand open trying to help him.

You watched him fumble around for a few moments before you quickly cast a mending charm on the broken porcelain, sitting back in your chair and shrugging. “Has been for years. Dozens of different women and he thinks I’m too stupid to know. I’ll never be enough for him.” you murmured, blinking back the tears in your eyes as you pressed a kiss to the top of your daughters head.

The other Newt took your hands in his own, looking at you in concern “Y/N you are more than enough. You deserve the world. You deserve someone loyal who will care for you and be there to support you no matter what”, he said passionately, pausing a moment before he murmured.

“Why do you stay with him?”

“Because I want what’s best for her,” you said without hesitation, nodding down at your daughter in your arms as you sniffled slightly “and I’m not getting any younger, Newt. At least he wants me.”

He watched as the other Newt opened his mouth to speak again but you continued talking and what you said next sent both Newt’s into shocked silence.

“You know I was in love with you for the longest time?”, you laughed self deprecatingly as you pulled your hands out of his “I dreamt about being Mrs. Scamander. I always thought you would make the most incredible husband and father.”

“Y/N”, the other Newt breathed, his eyes big and his lips parted but you shook your head before he could say anything more.

“Oh, how things change,” you murmured, wiping your eyes while you held your daughter tight against you in your other arm.

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The ringing returned in Newt’s ears as he was abruptly thrust out of the mirror and left sitting on the floor of the shop again. He stared down at his knees in shock as he felt Mr.Galloglass’  hands gripping his shoulders.

“You alright there, son?”, the man asked gruffly as he shook him slightly by the shoulders and Newt jumped to his feet quickly facing the man “I-yes I have to go! I must find the Niffler and leave immediately”, he said, searching around frantically.

He had to go to you.

But Mr. Galloglass grabbed his arm firmly, gesturing back at the mirror that was starting to ripple again “your creature is still in there. I sense the mirror’s not done with you yet my boy.” He murmured, his eyes glazing over with that faraway look again.

“You have more to see before you leave this place.”

The older man pushed Newt firmly towards the mirror again and Newt sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes tightly as he stepped back through the mirror frame, praying he wasn’t faced with something as horrible again.

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This time as he stepped through the frame Tina’s words popped into his mind.

“You should make the most of all the precious time you have together. Our time is never promised.”

The words seemed rather ominous considering what he’d just seen in his previous venture but as his surroundings became clear he felt a false sense of relief just from the familiarity of it.

This time he found himself standing in his flat in London, facing another Newt again who was sitting at the small dining room table, talking with Pickett.

He seemed to be the same age here but the first thing Newt noticed about the apartment was that all of your belongings were gone. Every single one of your plants that were usually adorning every surface of the flat were gone and it made his chest hurt to think about it.

Did you end up going to South America? Was this his closest reality then?

He watched this other version of himself curiously, noticing how happy he looked as he leant on the table talking to the Bowtruckle who seemed to be just as excited “yes Pickett, she’ll be here tomorrow and we’ll go and meet her at the docks and...and bring her home,” the other Newt murmured, smiling back at Pickett who danced around excitedly.

“Maybe it’s about time I ask her to stay,” he whispered, resting his chin in his palm with a small smile.

Newt looked up from the pair when he heard knocking at the front door, moving towards it on instinct and pausing when he remembered that he was just an onlooker here.

The other Newt got to his feet slowly, his eyebrows drawn together, shaking his head in response to Pickett’s chirping “no she’s not supposed to be here yet...but yes I suppose she could surprise us”.

The idea of you surprising him with an early arrival had him quickly walking to the door with a bright smile. He yanked the door open half expecting it to be you.

“Theseus?”, he frowned, the smile dropping from his face completely when he saw the tears shining in his brother’s eyes and he stepped back when Theseus pushed him into the apartment.

Newt watched the scene before him, the sense of dread settling in his stomach once again. He’d never seen his brother cry before.

“T-Theseus what’s wrong?”, the other Newt stuttered, moving to the kitchen to fetch him a cup of tea and freezing when Theseus grabbed his wrist, shaking his head “Newt, sit down.”

“No tell me what’s wrong”, he said, gripping Theseus by the shoulders, watching as his brother blinked hard a few times, furiously rubbing at his eyes a moment later.

“Theseus talk to me.”

Silence.

And then.

“The ship Y/N was on went down last night. Rogue wave.”

Theseus was gutted himself because he loved you like a little sister after the years you’d spent gradually slotting yourself into the Scamander’s lives. But he was truly hurting for his little brother, knowing how this news would break him.

Newt slapped his hand to his mouth, shaking his head furiously as he paced around the apartment trying to see the portal out of this reality and back through the mirror as the other Newt gaped at his older brother, his face gone pale.

“No no no she...she had her wand. She would have found a way out!”

“Newt I’m sorry she didn’t m-‘

“No! She can swim and she’s smart- s—s-she can swim better than me” the other Newt stuttered, his voice cracking as he gripped the back of the chair for support, feeling his legs would give out any moment.

“She didn’t make it, Newt.” Theseus said firmly, wrapping his arms around his younger brother tightly and gripping the back of his head as the first sobs broke through the apartment.

Newt was starting to cry himself, finding it harder and harder to breathe as he listened to the guttural sobs coming from his other self. It felt like the room was closing in on him and his chest was starting to physically ache. He covered his ears and chanted.

“It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real,” he kept chanting like a mantra, reminding himself over and over that this was just another reality and that his Y/N was safe and sound at home. In your shared apartment.

He barely noticed the room had morphed around him again until it was quiet and he was standing in his now dark apartment, facing a very disheveled and clearly drunk Newt. There was rubbish littered everywhere and Newt noticed the discarded newspaper with a photo of you and himself on the front page. He skimmed the article, wiping his tears away.

MAGIZOOLOGIST SCAMANDER’s ASSISTANT TRAGICALLY DROWNS IN SHIPWRECK

So, you’d drowned after you’d dropped your wand trying to help a young muggle child onto a life raft. Newt felt his stomach twist at that because it was something you would do.

Why didn’t anyone save you?

He sat down at the table across from the other Newt, burying his face in his hands as he pleaded for the mirror to let him out of this hell scape.

He jumped a bit when Tina and Queenie suddenly appeared in front of him, both of them looking somber as they moved towards the other Newt.

Queenie gripped him by the shoulders gently while Tina pried the bottle of fire-whiskey from his hands

“Newt, honey you’ve got to stop this.”

Queenie practically pleaded, stroking his hair back. She had her own tears threatening to spill because she could hear all the pain and guilt he was feeling.

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have stopped it”, she whispered, jumping a bit when he slammed his hand down on the table in response.

“I COULD HAVE STOPPED IT!”, he shouted, his voice hoarse while Newt continued to sit there with his head pressed in his hands, vowing to never let you set foot on a ship without him.

“Newt, nothing can change it now! You need to accept it and move on”, Tina said firmly, pushing her sister aside as she stood in front of him, pulling him to his feet.

“Y/N is gone and she’s never coming back. You need to pull yourself together because you still have a whole case of creatures to care for. Theseus can’t keep taking care of them for you. That man is at his wits end. And Y/N wouldn’t want you moping around like this!”

Newt only looked up when Tina’s ranting finally stopped and he was met with silence. He was now completely alone sitting in front of your tombstone.

It was as if something inside him broke then and he found himself scrambling to his feet and shaking his head frantically when he noticed a bunch of your favourite flowers propped against the stone.

“No no no no no let me out I’ve had enough! Niffler!” He shouted, desperately looking for any way out of the mirror as he grew more and more hysterical.

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He let out a gasp, hunched over  and gripping his knees when he was thrust back into the shop. “You!” He shouted, grabbing Mr. Galloglass by his collar.

“Why did you keep me in there so long?!” he practically growled, tears still flowing from his eyes. He felt completely wrecked as he held the man's collar tightly in his grip, trying to get a grasp on his true reality as he stared at the man “tell me where my Niffler is!” he demanded, his eyes wild.

Mr. Galloglass sighed and pulled Newt’s hands away from his collar, smiling apologetically at the young man.

“I don’t have any say in this. Only the mirror can decide what you see and when it’s finished. You obviously have more to learn.”

“NO I do NOT have more to learn!”, Newt snapped, grabbing his case “I’ve seen plenty and I need to go home right now!”

He spotted a familiar flurry of dark fur scurrying by and he set his case down, reaching towards the creature.

“No YOU get back here!” he said , lunging forward when he saw the Niffler, chasing after him once again through the mirror before he could stop himself.

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This time there were no words or phrases echoing in his mind. He was greeted with only silence as he fell on his ass once again into his apartment and he saw you in the kitchen.

You were clearly pregnant and he shook his head as he stood up quickly. He felt the bile rise in his throat as he faced the wall that he had just come through.

“NO LET ME OUT! I am DONE I have seen enough! I have learnt my lesson just let me out!” He shouted, pounding his fists against the wall and letting out a cry of frustration when nothing happened. He begrudgingly turned to face you when you called his name.

This time you looked happy and healthy and Newt wondered if you’d married the same scumbag from the earlier reality. But his heart stopped in his chest when he saw yet another version of himself take you into his arms and press a loving kiss to your lips.

He watched on in utter shock as you kissed this other Newt back with the brightest smile on your lips as you wrapped your arms around him.

And Newt wondered if it was possible to be jealous of himself?

He stared at you completely astounded, feeling a warmth blossoming in his chest at the way you were gazing at the other Newt. And the way you had wrapped your body around his, clinging to him like he was your very own life raft.

The room morphed around him much faster than he had hoped and he found himself standing behind the two of you in a baby’s nursery. He watched the two of you kiss the baby in your arms before you set him down in his crib, still holding each other close.

Newt blinked when the room shifted suddenly again and this time he was standing on platform 9 3/4 staring at you standing tucked into the other Newt’s side as you waved your two children off onto the Hogwarts Express.

Newt only felt his chest swell more as he watched the other Newt press a kiss to your temple, his hand coming to rest on your stomach that was round with another baby on the way.

He huffed and closed his eyes when the room started to morph again, this time at super speed showing him flashes of this alternate reality. He couldn’t breathe again but it was for all the right reasons as he watched literally all of his dreams and more unfold before him.

He felt a few tears slip from his eyes when he was left standing still once more.

This time you had both grown old and you were sitting together hand in hand in Newt’s case, watching small children which he assumed to be your grandchildren, running around.

He watched as you tipped your face upwards to press a kiss to the other Newt’s lips and he could just make out you murmuring the words ‘I love you’ before his attention was taken by the Niffler that was bolting towards him.

He quickly crouched down and held his hands out for the creature “come here you!”

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Newt let out a sigh when he was back in the mirror shop, facing Mr. Galloglass once again with the Niffler clutched in his hands. He made quick work of setting the creature back into his case and making sure it was latched properly this time before he turned back to face the mirror. He lay his hand against the cool glass as he took in everything he’d just seen.

He couldn’t even begin to decipher what he was feeling right now because he was simultaneously traumatised by the reality in which you drowned and elated by the prospect of calling you his wife and spending his life with you.

Then he rubbed a hand down his face when he remembered Mr. Galloglass and turned to face the man, hoping to apologise to him for shouting at him but the man just waved his hand dismissively before Newt could talk.

“Don’t worry about it, son. You just go and do what you need to do,” the old man murmured, clapping him on the shoulder firmly before guiding him back out of the shop and Newt turned around to nod at him one last time before he took off down the street with his case in hand.

Finally, all of his fears and all of the worst-case scenarios he’d conjured up in his mind faded into white noise and all that mattered now was telling you of his devotion.

It was settled. He was going to tell you the truth once and for all and nothing was going to stop him. He never even found out what Mr.Galloglass meant by Empire Line.

-Other Works Here!-