#teddy's grave will read 'he meant well'

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 19 - 'Judey' | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.9k

After England’s match, Jude and Trent made their way up to the box seats where their family and friends had gathered. Whitney had been keeping a sharp eye out, and to your relief, she reported back that no old flames of Jude's had made an appearance. That news alone felt like a weight off your shoulders. Jude exchanged quick hellos with his family before Whitney approached him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Without warning, she flicked behind his ear, right over the fresh tattoo. Jude yelped, immediately bringing his hand up to cover the still-tender spot.

“Ow! What the fuck?” he exclaimed, rubbing the ink protectively. Whitney laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. 

“She doesn’t think it’s real,” she teased. Jude chuckled, realizing exactly what Whitney was getting at. 

“No, she doesn’t,” he agreed, shaking his head with a grin. Whitney tilted her head, still laughing. “Well, it’s here,” Jude confirmed, rubbing his ear lightly. Just then, Trent walked over, carrying their daughter Teddy in his arms. He hadn’t even noticed the tattoo until now, but when he did, his eyes widened in shock. 

“What the fuck is that?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief as he gestured to the small inked wings behind Jude’s ear. Whitney smiled wryly, shaking her head. 

“She’s gonna kill you,” she teased Jude, already imagining the long-winded conversation that was bound to follow once you two were together again. She tilted her head looking at the fine lines etched on him now. Jude smirked, nonchalant as ever. 

“Yeah, well, to the grave with this, no?” he said, flashing that cheeky grin that made it impossible to stay mad at him. Whitney rolled her eyes, smirking as she moved to playfully inspected Trent as though she might find a hidden tattoo for her or Teddy. Picking up his arm, turning his head dramatically. Of course, she knew there wasn’t one, but she exaggerated her search just to make a point. Trent, amused, grabbed her hand and kissed her engagement ring before pressing a soft kiss to Teddy’s head. He turned back to Whitney, his voice low and teasing.

“Yeah to the grave,” he mocked, as if confirming to her that he didn’t need a tattoo; they were engaged with a baby. Two very permanaces in their life. The wedding on the horizon and their child were more than enough. Whitney raised an eyebrow and smiled, leaning into Trent as their little family stood together, while Jude, still laughing, shook his head at the whirlwind of teasing and affection surrounding him. You couldn’t help but smile at it all, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as you imagined what Jude’s tattoo really meant for the two of you.

“Judey!!!” Teddy squealed and squirmed in Trent’s arms, reaching out eagerly for Jude. She was frustrated it took him so long to say hello. Jude grunted dramatically as he picked her up, pretending she was as heavy as a sack of bricks. 

“Hi sorry! Sorry! Look at you, big girl!” he teased, his voice warm and affectionate. Teddy adored Jude, and once in his arms, she clung to him, burying her little face into his chest, cherishing every second of the rare moment she got to spend with him. Jude grinned down at her, rubbing her back gently. 

“You excited to go to New York for Mummy and Daddy’s wedding?” he asked, trying to get her in high spirits for the upcoming event. But Teddy had her own ideas. 

“Tay, I go with you, Judey,”Her version of ‘okay,’ she said firmly,  if it were the most logical plan in the world. She had no intention of letting Jude out of her sight. Jude laughed softly, shaking his head unfortunately having to tell her that wasn’t the case. 

“Nah, I wish, Ted. I’m gonna meet you there though,” he explained gently, brushing his thumb over her soft cheek as he watched her expression fall, her pouty lips pushing into a deep frown.

“Whys?” she asked, her tiny voice full of disappointment. Before Jude could answer, Whitney stepped in with a knowing smile. 

“Jude’s going with your Auntie Y/N, hmm?,” she said, her voice soothing as she reached for Teddy. “Come on, sweet girl,” she added, her arms open. But Teddy shook her head no with a cute little defiance, refusing to budge. She clung tighter to Jude, and he chuckled, clearly enjoying how attached she was. 

“Okay, you want to go back to Spain with me?” he asked, rubbing his nose against her cheek affectionately. Teddy nodded eagerly, her big eyes hopeful. 

“Alright, mate. This is my child now, yeah?” Jude looked over at Trent, trying to keep a straight face as he teased.  Trent laughed, shaking his head. 

“Sure, mate. You’ll love a good cry before bed tonight and then a 5 a.m. wake-up tomorrow,” he quipped, knowing full well that Teddy was a handful when you had her longer than for an hours time. Jude grinned, holding Teddy tight as she giggled. 

“Yeah, deal, we’ll have the best time without you anyways” he said, giving Trent a playful wink, though everyone knew he’d be giving Teddy back the moment the first cry came. Whitney smiled warmly at the scene. 

“Yeah… everyone just loves Judey, huh?” she said with a bit of tease watching her daughter bask in the attention Jude always showered her with. It was hard not to feel a pang of admiration for how Jude effortlessly made Teddy feel special, just as he did with everyone else, you especially. Whitney valued him as a friend but ever the hopeful romantic, she was more than happy with how things were panning out with you and him. 

Jude and Trent sat quietly in the stands, the atmosphere of the match lingering in the air as the crowd dissipated, leaving the stadium hushed and intimate. Inside the box, friends and family murmured softly, catching up after the excitement of the game, though muffled to them now. Teddy was perched on Jude’s knee, her tiny England jersey wrinkling as she squirmed happily, her chubby hands reaching for anything within her grasp. As Trent and Jude caught up, the conversation naturally turned toward the fast-approaching wedding. Trent sighed, leaning back into his seat, his nerves finally spilling out.

“Honestly mate… I’m getting a bit scared, man,” Trent admitted, his voice low but earnest. “Not scared about the wedding, you know? I want it more than anything. I’m just… nervous I won’t be enough for Whit. As a husband. As a dad for Ted.” Trent self consciously admitted.  Jude nodded, his hand gently brushing over Teddy’s tiny fingers, feeling the weight of Trent’s words. 

“Yeah, I’ve never been in the position but I can imagine,” Jude said softly. “But you’ve already been enough, Trent. Look at her,” Jude glanced at Teddy with a warm smile, “She adores you. And Whit—she’s in love with you, mate. There’s no doubts. Been a whirlwind, bro. This is the easy bit.” Jude smiled. Trent smiled back faintly but still seemed to carry the weight of his worries. Jude, feeling the honesty of the moment, glanced over at his friend and let out a breath, his own nerves beginning to unravel in the open. “Truth is,” Jude began, his voice quieter, “I hate to admit it but you’ve put a lot in perspective for me. I didn’t really get what you were doing before I properly hung out with you and Whit together and even then I felt like ‘yeah, good for them’ but then rapidly it spiraled into almost an enviable thing. I’ve been thinking a lot about that so much now. About forever. What that looks like. How to make that happen” He paused, shifting Teddy slightly in his arms as she nuzzled against him. “With her.” Trent’s eyes widened, turning to look at Jude fully. 

“You’re serious?” he asked, his eyebrows raised, the surprise clear in his voice. Jude gave a small smile, glancing down at Teddy before gently poking her soft tummy, making her giggle.

“I want it. Forever. Yeah, if she would want it. Sometimes things swing so quick from this place of real stability to a place where I feel like I don’t know her and I want the stability all the time. I want to give her that.” Jude sighed as his own confessional spilled out. “I see you with your family and sure, you can gloat but, I see it and I think to myself… that makes so much sense. I see that for me. It’s what I want.” Jude kept ranting, feeling a cross between embarrassment at being so open and reluctance because he could see the smug smile on Trent’s face grow. 

“I get it.” Trent cooed and Jude felt relieved momentarily. “I’m inspirational.” Trent quipped not missing the opportunity. Jude rolled his eyes but Trent kept talking. “Nah, honest, bro, it’s the best thing in the world. You just have to do it. Just make some moves. What are you waiting for?” Trent asked Jude with both seriousness and smugness. 

“Well, I’m just trying to keep my mouth shut about anything until the wedding,” Jude teased. “Can’t steal your thunder, mate.” Jude teased before he flicked his eyes toward Teddy, “And you, little Teddy bear, you can’t tell anyone, okay? Not even mummy please.” He cooed gently. Teddy hadn’t really followed the conversation. She’d lost interest ages ago so she just giggled in response, completely oblivious to the significance of the conversation, but her laughter lightened the mood. Jude ruffled her curls as Trent chuckled. “It’s crazy, though,” Jude continued, “how it shifts. You go from being the main man, everyone’s eyes on you, to suddenly all you care about is someone else. Feels like you lose yourself in her, but you don’t want to find your way back, you know? It’s safer there, out from under the floodlights.” He explained. Trent nodded in agreement, his expression softening. 

“Yeah… I know exactly what you mean. It’s like all the noise quiets when I’m with Whit and Teddy. It’s not about being the footballer, this character anymore, it’s just about them. I agree it’s safer which seems strange to say but it’s true.” Trent concurred.  Jude smiled, understanding more than words could convey. He unintentionally rubbed his thumb over the faint tattoo behind his ear, the fresh ink still a bit sore.

 “That’s why the tattoo made sense for me, man. It’s like, I swear I play better just knowing she’s with me. Like… a bit more grounded.” Jude exhaled. Jude and Trent’s relationship went far beyond the pitch moments like this even though they’d probably never say it. Along with their significant others, they probably felt safest with each other. No one really understood it quite like the other did. Although a  little joke here and there always kept their friendship harmoniously in balance. 

“Gotta keep getting tattoos if that’s the trick then. Apparently you played better than I did tonight, mate. Not sure you deserved man of the match over me but I’m glad that tattoo helped you not play like shit.” Trent let out a hearty laugh, clapping Jude on the back. Jude laughed, but before he could reply, Teddy suddenly piped up, trying to correct Trent with her little voice, 

“Dada! My daddy is best, tay?” Teddy moved off Judes lap crawling across him and a seat in between them to get to her dad. Teddy had really only heard Trent say Jude played better than him and as much as she loved Jude… no one was daddy and certainly no one was better than daddy. “Judey!” Teddy’s head whipped back towards Jude as she clung to Trent. “Daddy is best, tay?” She explained adamantly. Both boys burst out laughing as Trent teasingly tickled her, sending Teddy into a fit of giggles, her joy infectious. The moment was warm, filled with unspoken support and understanding, two young men navigating love, family, and everything in between, finding comfort in the simplicity of it all.

After England’s match, watching Trent and Whitney with Teddy stirred something in Jude. He had planned to visit you, but the thought of waiting any longer became unbearable. He booked a flight to New York on impulse, unable to stand the distance anymore. When his flight landed, you were still in the gallery, working late. The day had been draining, and you were so exhausted that you hadn’t even bothered to lock the door. You were scribbling notes when you heard the soft creak of it opening. Without looking up, you assumed it was a straggling guest, someone who had stayed too long.

“Still open?” a familiar voice asked, low and teasing. An accent you hadn’t anticipated to hear unless you picked up your phone. Your head snapped up in disbelief. There he was, standing in the doorway—Jude, with that soft smile and those warm eyes. 

“Oh… Oh my god!” you shrieked, jumping up from your desk and running over to him. Your foot nearly caught on the leg of it, causing you to stumble. He caught you mid-fall, his arms wrapping around your waist as he grabbed you, spinning you around. The world felt like it slowed down in those moments. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one that was full of all the time you’d spent apart. When he set you down, you were still breathless, holding onto him as if he might disappear if you let go. “You’re here,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

“I couldn’t wait any longer, Angel,” he said softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “Missed you too much to wait.” He kissed your forehead. “Come on, show me this great exhibit that’s been taking up all your time,” He said, tugging you gently further into the gallery. You laughed, a mixture of shock and joy as you held his hand tight. Jude’s arm draped around your waist. You tried to delay and talk to him about anything but the gallery that held too much of your attention lately but he just hummed disapprovingly with a shake of the head. As you pointed out each piece, explaining the concepts behind them, he held you close, always touching you in some small way—his fingers brushing yours, his hand resting on the small of your back. Eventually, he stood behind you, wrapping his arms around you fully, his chin nestled against your shoulder. The warmth of him was so comforting, so grounding, like he belonged here with you in this moment. “You know,” he murmured into your ear, his voice a soft, low rumble, “I’m thinking… we’ve gotta get you a gallery in Madrid, yeah?” You smiled, leaning your head back against him, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

“Yeah?” you echoed, teasing a little, but the thought filled you with excitement. The idea of Madrid being not just his home, but yours too, made your heart flutter.

“Yeah,” he said again, his lips brushing your cheek. “I want you there… with me. Always.” You turned in his arms, resting your forehead against his as your hands traced the curve of his back.

“Always,” you whispered back, sealing the promise between you two as you pressed your lips to his again, overwhelmed with how much you had missed him, and how right it felt now that he was here.After walking him through the new exhibit, you suddenly gasped, “Wait, wait, wait!” Your hands reached up instinctively to cup his face, gently turning his head to the side.

“What’s wrong?” Jude asked, his eyes searching yours. You pouted, brushing your thumb over the fresh ink behind his ear. 

“Wow…” you whispered softly, admiring the delicate tattoo. The small angel wings seemed so personal, so him, and yet, so much of you. His hand found its way to your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin, grounding you both. 

“Is it… okay?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost uncertain. He wasn’t asking if you liked it; there was a deeper layer to his question, like he was genuinely nervous, as if he could take it off if you weren’t comfortable with it.You gently turned his head back toward you, your thumb now caressing over the slightly raised skin of his tattoo.

 “It’s perfect,” you said, your voice steady, filled with affection. “You didn’t have to do this, Jude. I’m with you no matter what.” Your eyes locked onto his, making sure he understood. Jude let out a small breath, a subtle relief washing over his features. 

“It helps me though,” he confessed, his lips ghosting against your forehead. “Knowing for sure… That I have you… knowing right where you are.” Jude inhaled taking you in.  

“Yeah, just tucked behind your ear.” You giggled. “So, did you hear me tell you your first touch was shit during the match?” teasing him with a playful smirk. You smiled against his neck, leaning in close to whisper to him. Jude rolled his eyes, the tension between you easing with the familiar banter. 

“You’re kidding.” He pulled back from you. You laughed softly, running your hand over his hair keeping him close.

“Of course I am,” you whispered. “Did you hear me though? I was telling you how amazing you were? How beautiful you looked every minute of the 90?” You cooed gently. He hummed, the sound vibrating against you as he soaked in your compliments. 

“Yeah, I did,” he said, his voice low, appreciative. Then, after a brief pause, Jude asked quietly, “Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo for anyone before?” He asked unintentionally openly not really deeping just what he was asking you was implying. You shook your head, a firm and honest no, and you could see a flicker of panic in his eyes, a vulnerability he rarely let show. But before he could overthink it, you leaned in closer, pressing your lips gently to the skin near his ear.

“No one’s ever been you, Jude,” you whispered against his skin, the truth of your words sinking into the air between you.

That evening, you were lying comfortably in bed, your head resting on the pillow when Jude, sitting beside you with his Mac, suddenly turned toward you with a mischievous look.

“You remember how they’ve been working on that YouTube series with me?” he asked, his tone casual, but the smirk tugging at his lips hinted at something more.You nodded with a hum, vaguely recalling him mentioning it. You’d always assumed it was football-related, so you hadn’t really pressed for details. After all, you knew when cameras were around at matches, but you’d stayed pretty out of that part of his life, avoiding them when they followed into dinners or popped up at awards ceremonies you were at. Jude leaned in closer, his smirk growing. “They just sent me the footage of me getting my tattoo. I wanted to film it… Wanna see?” He asked. Your brows furrowed a little in confusion, but curiosity quickly replaced it. You nodded again, this time staying silent, unsure of what to expect. You snuggled into his chest as he turned the screen toward you, your head nestled comfortably against him as the video began to play. The footage opened with Jude in a tattoo studio, laid out on the table, his eyes darting between the camera and the tattoo artist. His usual calm but cheeky demeanor was front and center. 

“Why the Angel?” The man behind the camera asked Jude. Jude smiled, his expression softening, though he kept it light. 

“I don’t need a tattoo of a trophy. That’s what cabinets are for,” he replied with a playful shrug. It was fairly common for footie players to get some of their accolades tattooed on them but Jude felt otherwise apparently. The humor in his voice made your chest tighten with affection. He was keeping things between you and him, private even on camera. 

“Is she gonna get one too?” meaning you. The cameraman pushed again. Jude chuckled, the glint in his eyes visible even through the screen, shrugging nonchalantly. 

“Who knows?” he answered, cheeky as always, leaving the conversation teasing and open-ended. You watched in silence, the entire moment feeling surreal. If someone didn’t know the context, it would come off as a casual, fun exchange, but you knew better. Your heart thudded in your chest as the tattoo artist finished, wrapping the fresh angel wings in a plaster. The camera zoomed in on the tattoo, the fine lines and delicate detail just as you remembered. But then Jude turned his head to the camera, his devastatingly handsome smile flashing for the world to see as he said, “Angel, don’t kill me.” He winked. 

“Your girlfriend’s gonna kill you.” The camera man added. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, pushing at his chest playfully. 

“Oh my God, Jude!” you gasped, half in disbelief, half in sheer adoration. Jude chuckled, closing the laptop and pulling you closer into his arms, his face still carrying that self-satisfied grin. 

“What d’you think? I got it for you… but, I mean, the world can know too.” You nestled into him, pressing a kiss to his chest. 

“I think you’re insane,” you said with a laugh. “But I love it. And… maybe it was a little sweet.” You giggled. He kissed the top of your head, the warmth of his body radiating into yours. 

“Good. ’Cause I’d do it all over again.” He told you with another kiss. 

“D’you want me to get one?” The next morning, you were standing in front of the mirror, brushing your teeth when the question tumbled out between suds, muffled by the toothbrush still in your mouth. Jude, sitting on the edge of the bed, looked up from his phone, brow furrowing in confusion. 

“What?” He had no idea what you meant, not to mention what you actually said. He got up and strolled over to you, cheekily pulling the toothbrush out of your mouth with a grin. “Say that again?” You spit into the sink, wiped your mouth, and turned to face him.

“Do you want me to get a tattoo? Like, since you got one for me?” Jude’s grin softened into a thoughtful expression. 

“I’m not making you get one, and I’d never ask you to,” he replied sincerely, pulling you closer by your waist. “But I wouldn’t stop you either,” he added with a playful glint in his eyes. You giggled, teasing him as you wiped your mouth again. 

“Maybe I’ll surprise you one day.” You cooed. He chuckled, his eyes lighting up at the idea, but then his tone shifted slightly, a little more serious but still soft. 

“Hey, speaking of the tattoo… You mind if I keep that footage in the series? The bit with the you know the whole angel/ girlfriend thing?” It was still on your mind, but his question caught you off guard, making you pause. You turned back to face him, now more focused. 

“You really want to keep that in?” you asked, a little surprised but curious. He nodded. 

“Yeah, I mean… there’s a lot left to film this year still, but it’s part of everything, you know?” His tone was casual, but his eyes held a flicker of something deeper. “You’re a part of everything. I wanted to ask though… would you be willing to be more, like, in it?” You raised an eyebrow, toothbrush back in your hand, giving him a skeptical look. 

“In it, like how?” You questioned hesitantly but not declining.

“Just in general,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to explain. “Not hidden away so much. Like Jobe—he’s in it, but it’s clear how important he is. I guess I want that too, with you.” He told you but you couldn’t help but laugh, teasing him. 

“So you want me to be like your brother?” You giggled. Jude groaned in mock disapproval, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“Nah,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin. “You’re much too pretty.” He corrected you. You giggled as he held you close, the playful warmth between you lingering as his words sank in. There was something deeper there, a quiet statement about how much you meant to him—enough that he wanted the world to see you as a part of his life, even if not the main focus. Just like that tattoo, a subtle mark, but something that would always be there.

Whitney’s Manhattan apartment buzzed with a surreal energy as the reality of her wedding week set in. You were seated with Whitney, Winnie, Trent, and Teddy, all of you tucked into their cozy living room, Jude out busy with a work commitment he set up to do whilst he was in town. The final touches for the wedding were in full swing, but amidst all the excitement, you found yourself leaning back into the sofa, running your fingers through your hair as an idea spilled out of your mouth without much thought.

“I think I’m going to get the tattoo,” you said aloud to the room. The room paused. For a moment, all eyes were on you. Then, almost on cue, Winnie was the first to react, her mouth dropping open dramatically, her face lighting up with exaggerated shock.

“Oh, I love this for you!” She yelped. “My sister’s out here legally committing to Trent and you’re thinking of physically committing to Jude? I love this.” She teased, eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned forward, crossing her arms over her knees. The sarcasm in her voice was thick, but you could see the twinkle of mischief. Trent, who had been lounging with Teddy on his lap, raised an eyebrow, looking at you with his usual calm demeanor. 

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he said, trying to sound practical. “No one’s making you get a tattoo.” He tried to tell you but before he could finish, Whitney, always the one to champion a bold decision, shook her head vigorously, cutting him off.

“Excuse me? Jude got his first tattoo ever for her,” she said, leaning back with a grin as she emphasized each word. “First! If she’s already got a couple of others, then she can definitely get something for him. I mean, it’s only fair, right? Just get his name nice and small.” She cheekily told you. Winnie’s eyes widened as she put her hand over her chest like she was having a heart attack. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she interjected dramatically. “Okay, but you cannot get Jude’s name tattooed on you. Nope, absolutely not.” She waved her hand in the air as if trying to physically dismiss the idea. “He didn’t get your name. You can’t be out here doing that. You can be end game but no names.” Laughter erupted around the room. You couldn’t help but shake your head, a shy smile playing on your lips as you tried to process the whirlwind of opinions being thrown your way. Among the chaos, Teddy, who had been watching the adults with wide, curious eyes, suddenly let out a squeal of joy. Wiggling off Winnie’s lap, she toddled over to you, arms stretched up toward you, her favorite word on her lips.

“Judey!” She yelped. Everyone melted at the sound of her little voice, and you bent down, scooping her up in your arms. 

“What do you think Teddy girl,  what should I get?” you asked her playfully, rocking her gently in your arms. Teddy looked up at you with her big, innocent eyes, and without fully understanding what was happening, she clung to you with a tight hug. 

“Judey,” she repeated, burying her face against your neck. You could feel her warm little body relax into yours, and your heart melted a little bit more. Trent let out a deep chuckle from across the room, leaning back and shaking his head

“Yeah? Judey? Teddy girl. I bet he’d love that.” Trent teased, raising his eyebrows as he teased you. “You know Jude would actually kill you if you did that.” Trent laughed imagining his reaction. Whitney giggled, placing a kiss on Teddy’s chubby belly as the little girl squirmed in your arms.

“Good idea my beautiful girl. ‘Judey’ is a great suggestion, baby,” she cooed, glancing up at you with a mischievous grin. “My baby is so smart,” she added, kissing Teddy again as the little one wriggled and giggled in your arms. Winnie, ever the comedian, wasn’t about to let the conversation die. 

“You think Jude would kill her? Nah, that’s the thing. He’d probably love it.” She leaned forward, eyes twinkling with amusement. “I bet he’d be like, ‘Yeah, mate, that’s my girl, forever. She’s got my name inked on her body now.’” Doing her best brummie accent  You couldn’t help but laugh, your mind swirling between the absurdity of the conversation and the fact that, deep down, there was a small part of you that was seriously considering it. Teddy’s innocent love for Jude, the playful banter in the room, the overwhelming excitement of the wedding—it was all mixing together into a surreal, joyous atmosphere. You shifted Teddy in your arms, still smiling, but a small seed of possibility had been planted. Maybe Winnie wasn’t entirely wrong. Maybe Jude would love it.

It was the day before the wedding, you and Jude were back at your apartment, stealing a moment of peace before the event tonight. The space felt intimate, far removed from the chaos of the wedding preparations. And while the world outside was all about Whitney and Trent’s big day, your world, in this moment, was just about the two of you.

"You look... incredible." He cooed with a grin. You were stood in front of a big mirror fixing your hair. You smirked, feeling happy with the compliment. 

"Really? You’re very sweet baby.” You giggled. You turned around, giving him a full look of your stunning figure in the black sequined dress, although the back was not entirely zipped yet and the fabric striped, one panel sequined, the others sheer. You knew he'd be eager to get his hands on you in this dress.  The zipper undone, but not enough to reveal what lay hidden beneath although you hope the sheer fabric didn't ruin your surprise. "Need your help with this, baby” you purred, looking at him through the mirror. Jude's eyes lit up with excitement, and he eagerly stepped closer, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck.

“Nah, don’t think so. Not when you look like this.” Jude cooed.He stepped closer. His hands gently found the zipper of your dress, his fingers grazing your skin. The soft touch sent a shiver down your spine, making your breath hitch for a second. Jude’s hands were warm and firm, confident as always. But instead of pulling the zipper up, he paused. Without a word, his hands lingered, sliding down to the small of your back. His touch grew more deliberate, and before you could ask what he was doing, he slowly began pulling the dress off your shoulders. You turned slightly, catching a glimpse of his face in the mirror—his eyes dark with intent, but then they dropped lower, and a glint of surprise lit up his expression. You had got one.  You were so excited for Jude to see the tattoo you had gotten done.  It was a bold move, sure, but you knew he'd appreciate the gesture, especially since he had gotten his first. You were looking irresistible in a tight-fitting dress that hugged every curve of your body. Your eyes sparkling full of mischief. You let out a soft moan as the fabric slid down, baring your smooth skin. It cascaded down your body, the fabric slipping away until it was pooled at your feet.  His lips followed the path of the dress, placing soft kisses along your shoulder blades and down your spine, making you shiver with anticipation. As the dress fell to the floor leaving you exposed, Jude's eyes widened in surprise.  

"Angel… seriously, what the fuck is this.” He asked, his voice husky with desire. His fingers traced the curve of your hip, just above the swell of your ass, where a small, delicate tattoo was hidden, a little number ‘5’ etched on you now. “Nah… what is this?" He asked again truly a bit in disbelief. You giggled playfully, turning your head to give him a seductive glance over your shoulder. 

"Oh, what? That? Just a little something for you, baby," you whispered, feeling a rush of excitement as you revealed your little secret. Jude's cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. 

"For me? Baby... I honestly didn’t think you’d ever get one," he stammered, his thumb gently rubbing over the ink, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Do you like it?" you teased, swaying your hips slightly, the tattoo sitting just above the lace of your black thong. "It’s just for you.” You giggled. Jude's eyes darkened with desire. 

"I love it," he growled, his hands gripping your hips firmly. He pulled you close, he could feel his cock getting harder and harder rapidly. "And I can't wait to show you how much I love it."  He kneaded your ass kissing over your skin. Jude slowly sank onto his knees, his hands gliding down your thighs, pushing the lace fabric of your thong aside. He planted soft kisses along the inside of your thighs, making you squirm with anticipation. His warm breath teased your sensitive skin, and you couldn't help but moan. 

"Oh, Jude, please… fuck.” You whined. He looked up at you with a devilish grin, his eyes full of lust. 

"Just relax f’me, baby," he whispered, before diving in. You gasped as his fingers parted your folds and his tongue followed in their wake. He moved swiftly and aggressively. He hummed and the vibrations made the knot in your stomach tighten almost immediately. His tongue found your sweet spot, licking and flicking, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He teased your clit, sucking and nibbling gently, while his fingers slid inside you, curling and stroking your wetness. Your moans filled the room as Jude ate you out with skill and passion.You leaned forward hands pressing into the mirror. His other hand gripped your ass pulling your ass cheeks apart. He was determined to make you cum, and you couldn't hold back any longer. Your body trembled as the orgasm built, and with one final flick of his tongue, you cried out, your juices flowing freely as pleasure washed over you. Your legs twitching in pleasure.“Good fucking girl. My girl” He told you with a smug smile rubbing his thumb over the ‘5’ tattoo as your chest heaving from your orgasm. He kissed his way up your thighs, along the curve of your ass, and then up your spine, planting soft kisses and gentle bites along the way. When he reached your neck, he sucked and nipped at the sensitive skin, making you shiver with renewed desire. "God, you taste so fucking good," he growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He stood up, positioning himself behind you, and pressed your body against the mirror. 

“Please, baby.” You whimpered desperate for more of Jude. You looked in the mirror at your naked body being caressed by his big hands while he placed kisses along your back, your shoulder, and then up your neck again coming to your ear. 

“Wanna be a good girl and bend over for me.?”  He cooed. You agreed immediately without a word and pushed your ass back on him leaning over further. You hummed feeling his hard cock against you. Your eyes looked back at him through the mirror as he looked down at you pumping his cock slowly with his hand. Dragging his tip leaking precum over your soaked pussy. Feeling him press his cock against your clit had you immediately whining. With one swift motion, he entered you from behind, his thick cock filling you completely. It didn’t take long for him to find a rhythm. He began to thrust, his hips slamming against your ass, his balls slapping against your skin. 

"Oh, fuck, Jude!" you cried out, your hands gripping the mirror to steady yourself. He grabbed your ass hard as wet slapping sounds filled the room. Jude pounded into you, his hands roaming over your body, squeezing and caressing your breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples. He whispered dirty words in your ear, telling you how tight you felt, how much he loved your tattoo, how you were his,  and how he was going to make you cum again. Your bodies moved in perfect sync, the slick sounds of your passion filling the room. You could feel your orgasm building again, and Jude's breath grew ragged as he neared his peak. 

"Cum for me, angel," he grunted, reaching around you, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in circles as he slammed into you.  You couldn't hold back any longer. With a cry of pleasure, you came hard around his cock, your pussy milking him as you both rode the waves of ecstasy. Jude threw his head back, digging his hands into the soft skin of your ass more. Your walls still pulsating around him. You were dripping down your shaking legs.  Jude followed you, groaning as he filled you with his hot cum, his body shuddering against yours. As your hearts slowed and your breathing returned to normal, Jude turned you around and kissed you deeply, his hands still caressing your body. "That tattoo... it's the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he whispered, his eyes full of love and desire. “So good f'me. You okay, angel?” He asked a bit quieter, resting his nose against yours. You smiled, feeling incredibly satisfied and loved.

"I'm so happy you like it, baby" you purred, running your fingers over his hair. "And I’m really happy with the way you showed me even more." You laughed softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw as you looked up at him. He hummed in agreement.  Jude’s hands slid up to cradle your face, his forehead now pressing gently against yours. 

“Angel, thank you” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting kiss. There was something intense about the way he was looking at you, like he couldn’t believe you were really there, standing in front of him, wearing his number inked on your skin. Jude’s smile deepened, his eyes locking onto yours. He didn’t need to say anything for you to know how much it meant to him. “I really really do love it,” he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and appreciation. “I love you,” he added, pulling you close, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. The way he held you then, with so much care, made your heart ache in the best possible way. The tattoo, the moment, everything felt right. Jude leaned down, kissing you softly, deeply, before murmuring against your lips, “Looks like we’re really stuck with each other now, yeah?”

“Guess so. Forever, huh?” You whispered back, your voice filled with emotion and inquiry. The weight of the moment hit you—how far you’d both come, how much love there was between you.  For a long moment, you just stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. The dinner, the wedding preparations—it all faded away. Right now, it was just the two of you. 

“Forever, angel. But we should probably get you back in that dress now though, yeah? Wouldn’t want to be late for the rehearsal dinner.” Jude gave you a cheeky smile. You giggled, stepping out of his embrace to grab your dress from the floor. 

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s your fault,” you teased, “You’re the one who took it off me. I had asked you to zip it up if you remember.” You giggled teasingly. Jude raised an eyebrow as he reached for his own suit pants.

“I think you’re the one who distracted me, Angel,” he replied with a wink, gesturing to the tattoo on you. As he zipped up your dress (properly this time), you felt lighter, like a weight had lifted. The evening ahead might be about Whitney and Trent, but you had this quiet moment with Jude to hold on to. His love, his steady presence—it was everything you needed. You gave yourself one last glance in the mirror and then turned to Jude. He was fully dressed, looking impossibly handsome in his tailored suit, and when he caught your eye, his expression softened.

“You really do look incredible,” he said, his voice low and genuine.

“Thank you,” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. You took a deep breath, feeling ready for the night ahead. “Let’s go.” As you stepped out of the apartment and into the bustling city, Jude took your hand, giving it a small squeeze. 

“I still can’t believe you got that tattoo.” He leaned down to whisper in your ear. You smiled up at him, your heart full. 

“Believe it.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly as the two of you walked towards the Plaza, hand in hand. The air was charged with anticipation. The formal rehearsal dinner was looming, set at the ornate Plaza Hotel, a nod to Whitney’s glamorous mother’s impeccable taste. The hotel was dripping with opulence—golden chandeliers, high ceilings, and floral arrangements that felt straight out of a royal affair. It was grand, sophisticated, probably a little intimidating for some but you knew the place well. The moment you stepped into the grand ballroom, it felt like stepping into one of Whitney’s Pinterest boards—lavish floral arrangements, cascading lights, soft music floating through the air. You squeezed Jude’s hand, feeling a little emotional. 

“They’re really getting married,” you murmured, a bit of a pout forming as the weight of the moment hit you. Jude smiled down at you, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. 

“Yeah, mad innit?” He smirked. You glanced around, soaking in the extravagant yet personal details that Whitney had dreamed about for so long. She wasn’t doing the traditional bridesmaids thing, but you and Winnie, of course, were her unofficial girls. The ones who’d been there through all of it. Suddenly, a burst of giggles echoed through the room, and you turned just in time to see a little blur of excitement barreling towards Jude. Teddy, in her adorable tiny dress, was running full speed, her little feet shuffling or stumbling across the ornate carpet, eyes locked on her target.

“Your other girlfriend’s here.” You couldn’t help but laugh, nudging Jude with a teasing smile. He looked at you, momentarily confused, until he too heard the giggles. His face lit up when he saw Teddy, and he immediately squatted down, opening his arms wide. 

“Uh Oh!!!! Look who it is! Come here, Teddy bear! I told you I’d see you so soon!” Teddy let out another squeal, launching herself into Jude’s arms with all the energy her little body could muster. Jude scooped her up effortlessly, her giggles filling the space as she nestled her head into the crook of his neck. 

“Judey!” she exclaimed, overjoyed. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them, warmth spreading through your chest. 

“Wow, looks like I’ve got serious competition,” you teased, watching how much Teddy adored him. Jude grinned, pressing a kiss to Teddy’s temple. 

“Guess you do. But she’s been my Teddy girl since day one, haven’t you, Ted?” Jude cooed teasingly. Teddy giggled in response, wrapping her little arms around Jude’s neck as if she had no intention of letting go. It was hard to tell who was more attached—her or Jude. Marcel, slightly out of breath from trying to keep up with Teddy the escapee, finally caught up and chuckled at the scene unfolding. 

“Obviously she spotted ‘Judey’ from a mile away.” He shook his head mocking Teddy’s name for him. You laughed, reaching out to fix Teddy’s dress before letting your hand rest gently on Jude’s arm. 

“Can’t blame her. He’s pretty popular these days.” You smirked. Jude gave you a playful smirk, 

“Guess I’ll just have to split my time this weekend between you two, then.” You rolled your eyes fondly, but your heart swelled at the sweetness of the moment. The venue, the wedding, the whole night—it was meant to be about Whitney and Trent. But right here, right now, in this quiet little corner of their big day, you had your own piece of joy. You grinned, moving slightly to cup Teddy’s chubby cheek. 

“Will you share Judey with me, Teddy girl?” you asked in a sweet voice, hoping for some mercy from her. Without hesitation, Teddy shook her head, her little face scrunched in a stubborn pout. 

“No tanks,” she said with certainty, as if it wasn’t even up for debate. You gasped dramatically, then glanced over at Marcel, raising an eyebrow with amusement. 

“What about Celly? Can I hang out with him then?” Teddy giggled, once again shaking her head vigorously with another ‘no!’ “Oh my goodness!” you exclaimed, tickling her sides as she squealed in delight, her little body squirming in Jude’s arms. “You just love having all the boys to yourself, huh?” Suddenly, Winnie appeared behind you, wrapping her arms around you in a playful hug. 

“Takes after her auntie, doesn’t she?” she teased, her grin matching the mischievous glint in her eyes. You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help laughing. Jude attempted to set Teddy down, but as soon as her feet touched the ground, she looked up at him like he’d lost his mind. 

“No, Judey!” she whined, her tiny hands clinging onto his shirt with desperation. Jude chuckled, scooping her back up with ease. 

“Alright, alright,” he said, still smiling at her. But then, he pulled you in with his free arm, tucking you against him and kissing the top of your head. “But you’re gonna have to share me just a little, yeah?” he said, glancing between you and Teddy. The conversation flowed easily, the four of you—Marcel, Winnie, Jude, and you—catching up while Jude balanced Teddy on his hip. But then, mid-conversation, Teddy pressed her small palm against Jude’s cheek, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Judey,” she began, her voice soft and serious. “Marry my Y/N? Like daddy ‘n mama?” The question hung in the air for a moment, causing a ripple of quiet surprise. You felt your heart skip a beat, and you glanced at Jude, wondering how he’d respond. Jude, ever the smooth talker, smiled warmly at Teddy. 

“Maybe one day, Teddy bear,” he said softly, his eyes flickering to you with a mix of affection and something deeper. “What do you think? Would that be okay?” Teddy seemed to think it over seriously for a moment, then nodded, satisfied with his answer. 

“Tay,” she said simply, resting her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. Winnie, standing beside you, let out a small chuckle. 

“Well, well, we’ll… maybe one day,” she whispered a tease, squeezing your arm gently. You smiled, your heart swelling at the sweetness of it all. Jude’s arm stayed around you, holding you close, as if he knew Teddy’s innocent question wasn’t all that far from the truth. Jude was an unofficial babysitter.  She just wouldn’t leave your man alone. So, later that evening, as the night carried on with laughter and music drifting through the air, Teddy clung to Jude like she always did, her wide, curious eyes locked on him. She had been watching everything, from her daddy and mummy sharing kisses and whispers, to the way everyone was smiling and talking about how happy they were. And now, in the innocence of her thoughts, she turned to Jude with her serious question from earlier still bubbling in her little mind.

“Judey,” she asked, tugging at his sleeve to get his full attention. Jude looked down at her with an amused smile. 

“What’s up, Ted?” He asked her. 

“Whys?” Her little face scrunched up as she mulled over the words before finally blurting out, 

“Why what?” Jude asked, leaning down slightly to be closer to her level. He had a feeling she was about to hit him with one of those toddler questions that had no easy answer. Teddy furrowed her brows, clearly grappling with something that didn’t quite add up in her head. 

“Why no marry?” she asked, nodding toward you, her small hand pointing across the room where you stood, engaged in conversation. Jude blinked in surprise, caught off guard. He had expected a question about the cake or her dress, but she was still on about marriage. He chuckled softly, shifting her weight in his arms. 

“Why haven’t I married her?” he repeated, as if testing the question out loud to himself. He didn’t wasn’t even sure Teddy even knew that’s what was happening but clearly she did and she wasn’t letting it go. She nodded again, her eyes wide and serious. 

“You love?” she asked, her voice small but certain. Jude’s grin softened, his gaze flickering over to you.

“Yeah, I love her so much,” he confirmed, the words so easy to say but carrying a weight that made his chest tighten in the best way. Teddy’s little head tilted to the side, her tiny mind working overtime. 

“But loves you?” she asked, as if confirming her hypothesis. In her world, love was simple. You loved someone, you married them. Simple. Jude laughed again, realizing how straightforward the world was in Teddy’s eyes. 

“Yeah, she loves me,” he told her, a little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But we haven’t known each other as long as your daddy’s known mummy,” he added, thinking maybe that would help explain things. Teddy’s expression didn’t change. She stared at him, clearly unimpressed by his answer. 

“But loves you,” she repeated, as if that was the only thing that mattered. Jude opened his mouth to reply but paused, realizing there was no use in explaining the complicated world of relationships to a toddler. Teddy wasn’t interested in timing or logic—just love. He glanced at you again, the thought of what Teddy was implying stirring something deeper in him. Maybe she had a point, in her simple, innocent way. With a sudden idea sparking in his mind, he leaned in closer to Teddy, lowering his voice to a whisper. 

“Tell you what,” he said, his tone conspiratorial. “I’ll tell you a secret, but you have to promise you won’t tell anyone. Not even mummy or daddy.” Teddy’s eyes widened, her lips parting in excitement. 

“I pwomise!” she said, practically bouncing in his arms at the prospect of keeping a secret. Jude smiled at her enthusiasm, but he wasn’t about to let her off that easy. 

“Nah, nah, nah,” he said, shaking his head. “You have to pinky promise.” He cooed. Teddy’s face lit up even more as she extended her little pinky, her chubby finger wiggling in front of his face. Trent had recently explained this concept to her and it felt like the biggest most important thing in the world when she got to use it. 

“Pinky pwomise!” she declared, taking this very seriously now. Jude wrapped his pinky around hers, sealing the deal. He looked over his shoulder, making sure no one was listening before whispering in her ear. 

“I’m gonna ask her. I’m going to ask her to marry me.” Teddy’s eyes went as wide as saucers, her whole body wriggling in excitement. 

“I ask her for you!” she squealed, her little hands waving in the air, already imagining herself running straight to you with the news.

“Nah, nah, nah!” Jude laughed, wrapping his arms tighter around her, real fear flickering in his chest at the thought of her spilling the beans. “Teddy, remember? You promised you wouldn’t tell!” He chuckled. Teddy’s expression grew serious, her lips pressing into a pout as she realized the gravity of her pinky promise. 

“Pinky pwomise,” she repeated, her little voice barely a whisper now as she nodded. She laid her head on Jude’s chest, curling into him, as if she had just been entrusted with the most important secret in the world. Which to Jude… it kind of was. Jude let out a relieved breath, his heart still pounding from the scare of Teddy almost blowing his surprise. He kissed the top of her head, holding her close. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s our little secret, okay?” Teddy nodded again, but there was still a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. 

“Tay, Judey,” she whispered back, feeling like she was part of something important now. Jude glanced over at you again, his heart swelling as he watched you laugh with Winnie across the room. It wasn’t just a thought anymore. It wasn’t just something far off in the future. It was real. And now, thanks to Teddy, it felt even more real. Teddy’s little body finally settled into the warmth of the evening, Jude smiled to himself. He looked down at her peaceful face, and then back over to you, knowing without a doubt that his world was exactly where it needed to be. And soon, he’d make sure you knew that too. 

Jude had resigned from babysitting for the night and  returned Trent’s daughter to him. The night was so fun for her.  All her favorite people who were rarely together all in one room but now it was laced with the pressure of keeping a secret. Teddy wriggled in Trent’s lap, her little hands gripping his shirt as she leaned in closer, her face full of concentration as she prepared to spill the secret she had been holding onto with all the strength of a toddler’s pinky promise. She couldn’t manage not telling anyone else any longer. 

“Dada,” she whispered, her voice barely audible,  “allowed to tell you a pinky pwomise?” Trent raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips as he looked down at her, his miniature reflection staring back at him with those wide, innocent eyes. 

“A pinky promise, huh? What’s that about, baby bear?” Teddy, still unsure, shifted nervously in his lap, her gaze darting between Trent and her hands as she fidgeted with her fingers. 

“Is secret, but don’t knows if can tell but I want.” Trent let out a soft laugh, amused by her confusion.

 “Hmm, so you have a secret, but you don’t know if you can tell daddy?” he asked playfully, his hand gently running his hand over her hair. Teddy nodded, looking up at him earnestly. 

“Judey told,” she whispered, her voice growing even softer, like she was sharing the most important secret in the world.

“Ahh, Judey told you a secret, did he?” Trent teased, fully invested now. “What’s it about, baby bear?” 

“Bout auntie.” Teddy’s eyes lit up as she said your name, her little lips curling into a smile. At that, Trent’s smirk deepened. He had a pretty good idea of where this was going, but he played along, his curiosity piqued. Even though it felt like the first time Jude had said that he wanted that… that he genuinely was going to ask, Trent had long put the pieces together.  

“Oh really? Well, why don’t you come here,” he said, lowering his voice to match hers, “You can whisper it in Daddy’s ear, okay? Just between you and me. You can trust Daddy baby.” Teddy gave a serious nod, her small hand cupping Trent’s ear as she leaned in, her messy jumble of words and excitement flowing out in a rushed, whispered confession. Trent could barely make out all the words, but the key points hit him instantly, and he had to hold back a laugh as the pieces fell into place.

“Judey…love… gonna ask… marry…” Teddy mumbled, her little face lighting up as if she had just revealed the biggest news of her life. Trent straightened up, trying to keep his expression neutral, though inside he was grinning from ear to ear. He knew exactly what she was talking about—Jude’s ideation to propose to you. It wasn’t exactly going to be tomorrow but he was beijing to think about it. He’d do it. The secret that Jude had somehow entrusted to a toddler, of all people. And now, here she was, spilling the beans to him. Jude should’ve known better but truthfully he didn’t care who knew, except for you. He wanted to surprise you whenever he got the courage to do it. Trent took a deep breath, still playing along, his voice full of warmth as he responded.  

“Ohh, wow, that’s a big secret, huh? You’re a good secret-keeper, Ted.” He teased but it went over her head.  “I think because you pinky promised, we can’t tell anyone else, okay? This is between you, me, and Judey.” Teddy nodded eagerly. 

“Tay dada. Pinky pwomise,” she said, holding out her little pinky once again. Trent hooked his pinky around hers, sealing their new promise. 

“Pinky promise,” he echoed, his heart swelling as he looked at his daughter, her innocence so sweet and pure. He pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead before glancing across the room where you and Jude stood, completely unaware of the little moment unfolding.Teddy, feeling satisfied with herself, snuggled into Trent’s chest, her secret now safely shared. Trent’s mind raced, though—Jude wanted to ask you to marry him. He was bursting with excitement for his friend, but now, thanks to Teddy, he had to keep that same promise. As he sat there, cradling Teddy in his arms, Trent couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath, thinking about how Jude had gone on that holiday to Greece a single man and had come back, to this very moment, into a relationship deeper than he ever could’ve imagined and then naively he was entrusting a huge secret plan to a toddler.

As Trent stood at the head of one of the tables in the room, the murmur of quiet conversation hushed. The atmosphere in the room shifted, the weight of the moment settling as everyone turned their attention to him. His glass raised, a faint sheen of nerves danced in his eyes, but there was also a calm certainty in his demeanor. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation, joy, and love. The room, illuminated by soft candlelight and the quiet hum of loved ones catching up, felt warm and intimate despite the grandeur of the event. You were seated beside Jude, both of you relaxed after the evening’s events, but you could sense something deeper building in the air as Trent stood up to speak. Everyone fell silent as Trent cleared his throat, visibly trying to collect himself. He glanced around the room, his eyes pausing on Whitney, who sat next to him, glowing with happiness, Teddy nestled in her arms, their daughter fidgeting with Whitney’s necklace. He smiled, the weight of the moment catching up with him. The sight of her made his voice falter for a second, and he took a deep breath, clearly overcome with emotion.

“I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to say tonight,” Trent began, his voice soft but steady, “unfortunately, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to put into words how much the two girls right here mean to me but I’ll give it a go. Erm… I’ve been lucky enough to experience some incredible moments in my life—although they were primarily on the pitch until I met Whit—and though they were great, none of them could ever compare to the day I realized this woman loved me and every day that came after that.” He paused, glancing at Whitney with a mix of awe and affection. “I really don’t think the world has known perfection like my Whitney. Maybe… maybe Steven Gerrard in the 2005 Champions League final, but even Gerrard couldn’t hold a candle to you, baby.” The room chuckled softly, a wave of warmth and fondness spreading through the crowd. If you knew Trent, you knew that was massive for him to say. Trent smiled, his hand resting on the back of his neck as he continued. “There’s this feeling you’ve brought into my life, Whit. It’s… it’s hard to articulate but I’d like to share it with all here and I’d hope that everyone in this room gets to experience what it’s like to have someone in their life that makes them feel this way. It’s a feeling… one where your heart stops for a moment when I look at her. It slows down, like this calm stillness takes over, and for a second I can’t believe the girl of my dreams is right in front of me, loving me back. And then… it ramps up again. Fast. Like the moment before a final whistle, when you realize your dreams are actually coming true.”  Whitney’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her arms wrapping delicately around Teddy as they both gazed up at him. Everyone in the room seemed to lean in, hanging on every word he spoke. As Trent described this feeling Jude got goosebumps. It wasn’t particularly about the words but the fact that he knew exactly what Trent meant. He knew this feeling so well. “It’s not just the big moments, though,” he continued, his voice softer now, more personal. “It’s the little things. The way she smiles at me when she thinks I’m not looking. The way she’s built a life with me that feels like home, no matter where we are. She gives me something that’s impossible to define. It’s all those small moments that make up the life I’ve dreamed of. A life with her and our baby girl.” Trent kept talking but you felt Jude’s hand squeeze yours beneath the table as Trent continued. His words were raw, vulnerable, and filled with a kind of love that was impossible to miss. You glanced over at Whitney, tears slipping down her cheeks as she smiled up at Trent, her heart clearly full. “You’re mine,” Trent said, his voice almost a whisper now, “until the day I die and I’ve been yours. And tomorrow… tomorrow’s the beginning of the rest of our lives together. I’ve spent so many nights thinking about all the ways I’m lucky enough to get to love you, all the ways I’m going to make you happy, to continue building this life together.” Trent sighed. 

 “I’ve been thinking a lot about how I ended up here,” Trent began, his voice soft but clear. “And I think it all comes down to one thing—I got really, really lucky.” He glanced at Whitney, his eyes full of affection and disbelief. “Whitney gave me a chance.” There was a light chuckle from the crowd, but the way he looked at her, you could tell he meant every word. “You didn’t have to,” he continued, “but you did, right here at The Plaza. I asked you to stay with me the next few days here after we met. Spend time with me. Let me show you how great I am. It was maybe a bit mad, but I didn’t want to be apart.” He laughed. “The joke was on me though because you showed me how great you were instead, and I spent those few days falling in love with you faster than I could have possibly imagined.  And I’ll never be able to thank you enough for giving me that chance.” His tone shifted, becoming a little more serious. “I look at the two of you, sitting there—my girls—and I don’t know how I got so lucky. Whitney, you’ve given me everything. Everything I never even knew I needed. You’ve given me love, you’ve given me a home, and most importantly, you’ve given me our baby,” he gestured to Teddy, his voice thick with emotion as he said it. You could feel the lump forming in your throat as he spoke, your eyes already beginning to well with tears. Teddy, who was so full of life, sat innocently in Whitney’s arms, her little fingers gripping her mum’s dress as if she could sense how important the moment was.

“She’s perfect,” Trent said softly, his voice cracking just a little. “And that’s because of you, Whit. You’ve made my life… you’ve made me a better man just by being in it.” He took a deep breath, gathering himself as the room remained silent, hanging on every word. “It’s funny because everyone knows me as a footballer, and yeah, I love the game. But this? This is my greatest achievement. You two. This is what matters. And I can’t believe you chose me to do this life with.” You wiped at your eyes as you watched Whitney smile through her own tears, Teddy blissfully unaware of the gravity of her dad’s words. “Whit you are the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen in my life. But your soul, your kindness, your being is the most beautiful thing in the world. You are so gentle and yet so strong you really are perfect.” Trent’s vulnerability was so raw, so real, that it was hard not to feel the depth of his love for the family he had built. He tried to inject some of his usual humor into the moment, lightening the mood. “Now, I’m not saying it’s all easy—Teddy, baby bear, I don’t love when you wake me up at four in the morning,” he teased, causing a ripple of laughter to break the emotional tension. “But I wouldn’t change a single thing. Not one moment. Not a single morning with you two.” He paused, clearly moved by his own words. “Whitney, I’m just so grateful. For you. For everything you’ve given me. And tomorrow… tomorrow, we get to do what I knew I wanted to after our first date.” At that moment, there was almost a gasp in the room.  It was true, Trent genuinely had knew he wanted this. Whitney’s hand moved to lightly sit over her lips, as if holding in all the emotions that threatened to spill out, while Trent stood before her, laid bare in front of everyone. “You’re mine forever,” he continued, his voice breaking just slightly, but he pushed on. “You have me, forever. And if you still want me tomorrow…” The room fell  into soft, affectionate laughter, and even Trent let out a small, nervous laugh, running a hand over his hair. 

“It’ll be the longest night of my life tonight,” he confessed with a soft grin, “thinking of all the ways I’ve marked you as mine, all the ways I’ve dreamed of giving you a life we could build together and seeing that we were able to do even more than  that if the biggest win of my career.” He took a moment to compose himself, glancing down as if to gather the strength for his final words. “I’ll never be able to say it enough, but I love you, Whitney. I love you and Teddy more than I ever thought was possible.” The room burst into applause, but you could barely see through the tears blurring your vision. It was impossible not to cry, watching the way Trent adored his family, how deeply he felt for the two girls sitting beside him. His usual dry humor had softened, giving way to something raw and pure—a deep love for Whitney and Teddy that seemed to encompass everything. You glanced at Jude, his hand squeezing yours beneath the table. He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you, with that quiet, knowing gaze, told you he understood. The love in the room, the vulnerability, it was an emotional rollercoaster that left you both feeling more connected than ever. As you dabbed at your eyes, you couldn’t help but think of the future—the kind of love you and Jude were building, and the way it mirrored what Trent and Whitney had. It was powerful, overwhelming, and utterly beautiful. There was something so personal and bashful about the way Trent confessed his feelings—like he was still a little boy in love with his first crush, even though he was about to marry the love of his life.  As you glanced at Jude, you couldn’t help but wonder if, someday, you’d hear words like that from him. You could see the emotion in his eyes too, the way he watched Trent and Whitney with a mixture of pride and quiet longing. Trent looked momentarily overwhelmed but leaned down to kiss Whitney on the forehead as she stood up to hug him, burying her face in his chest as Trent took Teddy. You watched them, your heart swelling as their love unfolded so openly in front of everyone. As you sat there, holding Jude’s hand, you couldn’t help but reflect on how deeply Trent’s words resonated with you. There was something so unabashed about the way he loved Whitney, how he wasn’t afraid to admit that he was utterly and completely obsessed with her, with the life they had created together. And though football was everything to him, it didn’t compare to what he had found with her. Your thoughts flickered back to Jude. You turned your head slightly to glance at him once more, wondering if you had that same effect on him—if you were his calm amidst the chaos of the world, his anchor, the person who made him feel more than any trophy or victory ever could. He must have felt your eyes on him because he turned, catching your gaze with a soft smile. Without saying a word, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there as if to answer all your unspoken questions. His hand squeezed yours, a quiet affirmation that maybe you already did have that effect on him. Maybe, in your own way, you had pulled him out of the spotlight and into a world that belonged solely to the two of you. The warmth of his touch, the way his thumb gently stroked the back of your hand, felt like a promise—a promise that the world you were building together wasn’t something he took lightly. Even if the words hadn’t been spoken yet, you could feel it in the way he held you, the way he was so unapologetically there, with you, in that moment. Trent and Whitney were now surrounded by family and friends, laughter echoing through the room as people congratulated them. The weight of the moment had passed, but the love it left behind lingered, wrapping around everyone like a warm embrace. Jude shifted in his seat beside you, his arm coming to rest on the back of your chair as he leaned in closer. 

“You okay, angel?” he asked softly, his voice low, meant only for you. You nodded, leaning into his warmth, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice soft but full of meaning. “I’m perfect.” And in that moment, as the laughter and chatter filled the room, you realized that what you had with Jude was its own kind of magic—a quiet, unspoken connection that was growing deeper with every passing day. The world outside could wait. For now, in this room, surrounded by love and joy, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 20- Be Yours xx

[teddyryker-blog]

a very teddy christmas || pt. 4

December 27th Teddy makes bad questionable choices.

“Are you gonna call her?”

Teddy took the letter back from Jewel and shrugged as best he could when he was lying down, looking the letter over for maybe the 80th time before turning and leaning back over the bed to stuff it back in the back pocket of his jeans. When he turned back over, he nudged closer to Jewel so the other could continue tracing the birthmark on his thigh, as he had been before Teddy brought up the topic of the letter.

“I don’t even know if it’s legit,” Teddy said, “might just be my dad…testing my loyalty or something.” Jewel made a dubious noise then grinned when his hand ventured higher than intended and Teddy jumped, trying to hide his own grin behind a false scowl. They were absolutely not meant to be doing this, Teddy had been thinking that since he bumped into Jewel in the street, since they started talking, since he accepted the invitation to go to Jewel’s apartment, since they kissed and got out of their clothes and…well, so on and so forth. It wasn’t planned, neither of them were deliberately trying to breach the agreement of exile from each other’s lives but it seemed to have just happened beyond their control. It’d always been like that, ever since they were teenagers and only friends but somehow ended up acting like lovers when they were alone – it was Teddy’s greatest secret, not even Mandy knew what he and Jewel got up to when no one else was around.

Teddy didn’t remember falling asleep but when he woke up the room was in complete darkness. He blinked awake and looked around the room, taking a minute to remember where he was and trying to stop his heart from sinking as he realised he’d have to come up with an excuse for being gone so long. He sighed, feeling a little defeated and annoyed with himself, and let his head fall back against the pillow as he stretched his legs out under the covers. He looked at Jewel, who was very much asleep, and pondered whether he should just leave now or wake him up first. Sleeping Jewel looked so different from Awake Jewel, he looked so much softer than the boy who always looked at people like he was saying ‘I know something you don’t know’. His blonde mop of hair was strewn all over his face, brushing over his equally blonde eyelashes and the splash of freckles on his nose. Teddy loved freckles, not on himself but definitely on Jewel and he stared at the dusting of them on his shoulders and his arms.

It was then he started noticing other things that he hadn’t before, scars that Teddy didn’t know the origin of and what he could only assume were track marks. There was a tattoo on Jewel’s ribs that looked like a dragon or a snake, it was much nicer than any of Teddy’s tattoos but he still didn’t care for it. Teddy reached over and flicked a light on, listening to the bed creak as Jewel was woken and turned onto his back to avoid the light. “What time is it?” Jewel asked without opening his eyes

“Late,” Teddy said as he reached for his jeans, “I should go, I’ve been gone too long.” He started to get out of bed when he heard Jewel make a noise of protest and felt the other’s hand ghost down his spine which made him pause.

“Stay,” Jewel murmured, sitting up, leaning over, and pressing his forehead to Teddy’s shoulder. “I can make it worth your while.”

“You already did – twice,” Teddy chuckled, looking at Jewel over his shoulder.

“Third time lucky.” Teddy sighed through his nose and for a moment he considered it, he could just let Jewel pull him back into bed and for a couple more hours he could forget about where he was meant to be and the kind of reception he’d receive when he eventually went back. However, Teddy’s phone buzzed with a text from Michael asking ‘where the mother fuck he was’ and he knew he didn’t have the option to stay.

“I can’t,” Teddy said regretfully and Jewel nodded. He understood, neither of them liked it but they couldn’t change the reality of their lives or their families. “I’ll call you later,” Teddy promised as he stood up and pulled on the rest of his clothes.

“No you won’t,” Jewel laughed, grinning at Teddy as he flopped back on the bed and Teddy grinned back. No, he wouldn’t but that wasn’t because he didn’t want to. Once he’d put his shoes on, Teddy checked he had everything then made for the door, making the choice not to say a ‘physical’ goodbye to Jewel because then he wouldn’t leave. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” he called.

The house was also in darkness when Teddy returned and he found it strange but convenient. He slipped in quietly, flinching at how loudly the door shut behind him. It was too quiet, if no one was home or awake then other people always were, his brother’s friends or people his father worked with. However, after the door shut and Teddy started up the stairs, a light flickered on upstairs and Teddy heard thundering footsteps that were fast enough and angry enough to convince Teddy he should make a b-line for the kitchen and run straight back out of the house through the backdoor. Teddy’s speed wasn’t enough of a match for his father though and as it was, Teddy found the backdoor locked when he reached it.

“You fucking brat.”

The sequence of events that followed happened so quickly that Teddy didn’t have enough time to process them. Something hard hit him on the back of the head and the force was enough to make him smash his forehead into the glass of the door; he heard the glass crack before he collapsed to the ground. His eyes felt like they were spinning inside his skull and he was vaguely aware of his sister screaming in the background – Stop! Stop! Stop! – as a hand snatched up a handful of Teddy’s hair and started dragging him across the kitchen floor by it. The pain was almost indescribable, Teddy didn’t have the mental capacity to scream so all he managed was loud, painful gasps as he clawed at the hand and tried to struggle free. As soon as he was let go, all Teddy could think was run and he tried to do just that, almost getting to his feet before he was kicked in the gut and he crumpled into a heap in the floor.

“Teddy, just stay down!” Mandy shouted. He looked for her but his eyes wouldn’t focus, everything was blurry, moving even though he wasn’t.

“Get her out – lock the door, Mike!” He recognised his father’s booming voice and froze, breathing hard as fear crept in because Teddy knew this wasn’t going anywhere good. The kitchen door slammed and Teddy could still hear Mandy shouting on the other side, trying to bash down the door to no avail. He’s never hit me before, was all Teddy could think and it was such a strange thought because he’d seen what his dad was capable before, he’d watched him force girls younger than Teddy into sex work and he’d watched him almost shoot Mandy in the head when she tried to get Teddy out of this very situation-

A hand seized Teddy’s throat and cut off his train as thought. He was roughly pinned to the ground, his windpipe constricted and panic raced through him. Teddy struggled, lashing out with his arms and legs but the harder he struggled, the tighter the hand around his neck became. He went slack, still trying to gasp for breath as he stared up at his dad who stared down at him. “You think I don’t know where you were?” Shame burned in Teddy’s chest because he’d known the entire time he was with Jewel that they were making a mistake and he’d let it happen anyway, he’d allowed himself to be selfish and this is where it’d gotten him. “You are a traitor, Teddy.” He pressed down on Teddy’s throat and Teddy used the last exhale of breath he could manage to let out a frightened, pained noise and he thrashed frantically, there was no air getting to him and his lungs started to burn.

“He’s had enough.” Teddy hadn’t even known Michael was in the room, he tried to turn his head towards him because Teddy had had enough, everything was starting to go fuzzy and dark at the edges of his vision and he was hurting so much his eyes watered relentlessly. “He’s…Dad, you’re killing him. You don’t want a body in here with the kids upstairs.” He didn’t let go until that second sentence and when he did, Teddy gasped louder than he had in his entire life and took in as much air as he could, like he’d been walking through a desert for months and just found water. Everything went quiet aside from Teddy’s gasping and his dad pacing about the kitchen, he daren’t move from the floor because he was so aware that his dad had essentially just tried to kill him and he didn’t want to do anything to invite a second attempt.

“I want him out of this house.” The kitchen door unlocked and Mandy rushed through, immediately at Teddy’s side and trying to help him up.

“What did he- Oh fuck, your neck,” she exclaimed. Teddy’s neck felt numb and swollen and it hurt to breathe still but none of it compared to how scared he was. Teddy had been scared lots of times and he knew his dad was someone to be weary of but there were few times before now where he’d been scared for his life. He’d fucked up, fucked up so badly that his dad had almost murdered him as a result and only hadn’t because there were children upstairs. In that moment, Teddy was very, very glad that those kids were there.

“It…was my fault,” Teddy managed to gasp out, his voice hoarse, and Mandy made a disapproving noise as she helped Teddy to his feet, supporting him until he could stand on his own. His next thought was of Jewel who was barely a couple of miles away, completely oblivious to everything that was happening and the distinct possibility that he could be in danger. Teddy’s dad knew they’d been together, maybe there was a chance they didn’t know what they were doing (lord, Teddy hoped he didn’t) but that didn’t change that they’d seen each other, spoken to each other, and gone somewhere together. His dad didn’t have any responsibility towards Jewel, he could kill him and not even think twice about it. “Jewel,” Teddy whispered to Mandy, his tone making it come out as a question.

“He’s safe,” Mandy assured him, speaking lowly, “but we need to go.” Teddy nodded, he couldn’t agree more and followed Mandy out of the house without looking back, keeping his eyes fixed to the ground until they were in the car. He was surprised when Mandy got into the driver’s seat and no one got in after them, Mandy hadn’t been allowed to go anywhere with Teddy without supervision since their great escape plan went awry. He understood why it was allowed now, his dad didn’t care anymore.

They drove to another part of town that was so quiet it seemed like they were leaving Oakland and it looked that way until Mandy pulled into a motel. “It’s just for now, until you go back to school probably,” she said, as if Teddy ever wanted to go back to that house again. It was nicer on the inside than it was on the outside thankfully, the paint peeling on the outside walls and a boarded-up window hadn’t looked promising but at least Teddy could say his room was clean and there wasn’t any blood or old socks in the bathroom. Mandy helped him check in, assured him that she’d be back tomorrow with some of his things, gave him some money so he could get himself a meal then left, probably sensing that all Teddy wanted right now was to be left alone.

In his room, Teddy sat silently on the bed and listened to the television in the next room as well as the people upstairs shuffling around. He’d wanted to be by myself but he’d never felt so lonely in his entire life than at that moment, he wished he’d just asked Mandy to take him to an airport so he could go back to Palmetto at once. There wasn’t much he could do now, he was in a fair bit of a pain and he was exhausted so he decided the best thing to do would be to get some sleep and maybe everything would be better tomorrow. Teddy checked his phone, he had a number of texts from Jewel, who’s number he still hadn’t saved, telling him he was alright which Teddy ignored. He stood up from his bed and heard a crinkle of paper, only then remembering the letter in his back pocket. Teddy unfolded it and stared at it, flipping it over and staring at the phone number. Whatever his mother was, whatever she’d done, she could not be as bad as his father.

Teddy dialled the number before he could change his mind.

The seconds waiting for someone to pick up, listening to the dial tone, were agony and Teddy found himself trembling, the hand that wasn’t holding his phone was curled anxiously into the bedsheets. Someone answered and Teddy froze, his mind going blank and he almost hung up.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice.

“I…is this Laura? It’s Te- Edward.”

[erithel]

Hunk anon here. Fandom content is too good and the show content negatively impacted our memories so we just make our own content that would make sense.

Most of our content is Klance based and it’s normalized to see him as Lance or Keith’s soft teddy bear love counselor . He’s not meant to be center staged in those stories so people just characterize him in the easiest way possible. It’s hard to write him as a rude ass like he is in canon bc we don’t want anyone to be rude to Lance (anymore) or Keith and it’s hard to reconcile what we see in fanon with the reality of canon. Fanon Pidge is the same way. She’s a good hearted young girl who will apologize if she goes too far and tries to make an effort with her friends because this is the first friend group she had in her life. Canon Pidge? Hard pass.

I do wish fanon content explore more of the friend part of Klance’s rival to friends to lover relationship. Despite the fuckery with some of Keith’s s6-7 characterization (imo Keith is the most inconsistent character written on the show) Keith and Lance have a natural development as partners and you can actually see movement in the way their relationship changes. They could be one of the best duos if given a chance. Mainly cause theyre both on the same wavelength and brain length as each other haha.

But man, if my Hunk thoughts are explosive I don’t think anyone is ready for what I have to say about Shiro.

Fanon Hunk and fanon Pidge are amazing – and I hope they continue to be depicted in fanfics as they have been because that's the way it should be.

I love Hunk as the peacekeeper. I love to think of his character as the guy who would, unironically, be the one to say "seriously, can't we all just get along?"

I love Pidge as the one who noticed everything and uses that knowledge to play harmless pranks or to tease her friends. And I love, moreover, when she is portrayed as the one who will take your secret to the grave if she sees how serious it is.

I love that they are both portrayed in fanfiction as being so stubbornly and viciously loyal, the only time they become rude or inconsiderate is in defense of their friends.

Obviously, the still have their flaws, and those flaws should not be overlooked in good writing. But if they were accurately portrayed as their canon selves in fanfiction, it would be so bleak you might as well tag it "Major Character Death."

I agree about portraying friendship first. Not just for klance, but for literally all relationships. I remember a line from a book I read as a kid where the character said (something along the lines of) "I want to be with someone I like and love." I didn't understand it at the time, because I thought it was a given.

In reality, there is a huge distinction between these two, in terms of a relationship. That's why the fics that portray a klance friendship first – and an accurate and believable build towards romance – are the ones that stick with me. Because your partner should be your favorite person. They should be the one you want to spend time with – not just in a romantic or sexual setting. They should be the one you want to be with just because you like being around them, and you feel comfortable in their company. This is a huge reason why I don't ship a lot of heterosexual couples in movies and TV, because they often don't get the portrayal of friendship first. They go from the "hating" stage to the "love" stage with nothing in between. But that in between stage is literally the most important one, and it definitely should not be ignored. (And it's yet another thing that Brooklyn Nine-Nine gets right).

And...you brought up Shiro. People have commented on him before, so I'd guess there might be something that comes of that...

[inpizzawecrust]

Day 13: Consent

pairing: drarry

word count: 1704

warnings: none

“So what you’re saying is that we’re exactly where we started on this case four weeks ago?” Kingsley posed with a raised brow as he leaned back in his chair.

“Well I wouldn’t say it like that—” Anthony Goldstein gulped and nervously looked around the room, unsure of whether he should remain standing or if sitting down would dig him further into his own grave.

“Minister, might I add that if we had just followed my plan, we wouldn’t be sitting here?” Harry spoke up, disregarding the blush that was forming on Anthony’s face. He felt Ron stomp on his foot and quickly shot a glare, but not before Hermione piped up.

“Harry! Now is not the time for this—” She hissed from across the long table.

“Ms. Granger, while I do appreciate your concern, I find myself agreeing with Auror Potter,” Kingsley interrupted. Harry smirked at Hermione, who merely rolled her eyes, but his smirk faltered when the Minister of Magic cleared his throat before continuing. “Despite the unprofessionalism.”

As Kingsley rose and Anthony quickly sat down before he could be scrutinized further, Harry felt a buzz from the phone in his pocket. The only people to text him were all sitting in the same room as him—Ron, Hermione, and Kingsley—well, all except one. The only person who would message him at all would be Mrs. Weasley, who knew better than to message him during a meeting. She learned the hard way back when he was training to be an auror ten years ago and tried to get ahold of Harry and Ron to inquire when they’d be home. After a long conversation about boundaries and what an emergency meant, Mrs. Weasley agreed to reserve texts and calls for days she knew Harry wasn’t actively working, or even just wait for Harry to initiate the conversation. With that in mind, Harry’s mind raced at the only plausible reason for someone trying to get his attention with only an hour left of his workday. His green eyes scanned the room to ensure everyone was immersed in the meeting before removing his phone ever so slightly from his pocket.

Draco: *not an emergency* just call me when you can xx

Harry quickly pushed his phone back in his pocket and attempted to focus on the meeting, but such a thing was easier said than done. Even with Draco explicitly saying that whatever had happened wasn’t an emergency, sending a message during the day was already enough to make Harry’s brain spiral. What if something happened to Draco? What if something happened to his parents? What if something happened to Teddy?

Harry was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of Kingsley loudly clapping his hands together to announce a small break in the meeting. As everyone else began to move around and stretch their legs, Harry remained in his seat and gnawed at the inside of his cheek, his eyes not leaving the message on his phone.

“What is it?” Ron asked at Harry’s side. Harry looked up to find Hermione, who was just as concerned as her husband, taking the empty seat to the left of him.

“Not sure.” Harry sighed, causing both of his best friend’s brows to furrow. Harry set his phone on the table for them to read before bringing a hand through his unruly hair.

“Go.”

“We’re in the middle of a meeting!” Harry exasperated, despite wanting nothing less than to do exactly that. Ten years ago, he’d leave the meeting, but he wasn’t a reckless 18 year old anymore. He was one of the top aurors in the department, it’d be unprofessional for him to leave just because his fiance texted him during the day.

“Harry, we all know that Draco never texts you unless it’s urgent,” Ron continued, “Now go.”

“Ron’s right, Harry.” Hermione urged with a nod before Harry could protest again. She gently squeezed his shoulder and gave a small smile. “We can handle it from here.”

He sighed and nodded before rising. They were right, Draco never messaged or called unless it was important. Without a moment's hesitation, Harry turned on his heel and left the room, not caring who crossed his path on the way. None of it mattered if Draco or Teddy—Merlin, it better not Teddy—were in danger.

*

“Draco?” Harry called out as he stepped inside their house.

He took a few steps before remembering his shoes—danger or not, Draco Malfoy would lose it if Harry Potter entered their house without leaving his shoes by the door. He quickly toed off his shoes before leaving the entryway and actually entering the house, fear growing with each step. Please be safe, Harry thought to himself, please be safe.

“Draco?”

“Library.” The familiar voice called out from down the hall.

Harry briefly smiled before making his way down the hall and when he finally reached the doorway, he let out a deep sigh. Teddy was staring up at the wall of books, unbothered and trying to find one to read, while Draco sat behind the desk that held all the paperwork he had been doing. Draco’s eyes flicked from Teddy to Harry, a smile forming on his face as he rose from his chair to cross the room.

“Darling, I explicitly told you it wasn’t urgent—”

“I know—”

“And to call me when you could, not drop everything and come home.”

“I know,” Harry nodded and looked up at Draco, who was already reaching out to bring a hand through Harry’s hair in hopes of calming him down. He planted a kiss on Harry's forehead and smiled as Harry wrapped his arms around him in response. “What was so unimportant that I left a meeting for?”

“Teddy was sent home early from school today for accidental magic reasons—”

“What?!” Harry hissed, his head removing itself from Draco’s chest at once. “Draco, that school is one of the best muggle schools in the area!”

“I know,” Draco nodded before gently tugging Harry away from Teddy’s earshot.

“Andromeda’s going to kill us—”

“Andromeda was the one who picked him up.” Draco cut him off, causing Harry to raise a brow. Draco sighed before continuing. “It’s better if Teddy told you—Nothing bad happened! They’re just assholes—”

“Draco, that’s his school—”

“He has four weeks left before term ends and then he’s at Hogwarts in September.” The blonde waved off with a smirk once he saw the scowl on his fiance’s face. “Now will you listen to what he has to say?”

Harry sighed and nodded before following Draco back to Teddy’s vicinity. He sat on the sofa as Draco quietly spoke to the blue haired soon-to-be eleven year old, who turned around and nervously smiled at his Godfather before walking over. Normally in the Potter-Malfoy-Lupin household, it was Draco who was the disciplinarian and Harry who was the easy-going one, but if Draco was easy-going then Harry naturally had to fill the other role. The only problem was that Harry always held his ground and was much more of a hardass than Draco, whose harsh demeanor always faltered once Teddy looked up at him with his big brown eyes.

Remembering just how cold his face could be, Harry relaxed his shoulders and presented himself as the approachable and kind person Teddy has always seen him as. It clearly helped, for Teddy relaxed at his side and took a deep breath before beginning what would surely be a long winded retelling of his actions.

“I sorta used magic at school today, but Grandma says it was half-okay since I was defending someone,” Teddy rushed, “Not that using magic on someone is ever okay, even though Uncle Draco agrees with Grandma—”

“Teddy, slow down,” Harry gently spoke and presented his hand palm up as an invitation for the child to take. Teddy nodded and grabbed Harry’s hand to steady himself. He took another deep breath before continuing, this time slower as Harry began to rub circles into his hand.

“Well, this boy, Leo, was pulling Elise’s braids after she had repeatedly told him to stop,” He slowly began, strategically avoiding his Godfather’s green eyes. “So I walked over to intervene because Elise is my friend. One thing led to another and suddenly his mouth was glued shut—But before you get mad, Uncle Harry, I was just doing what you and Uncle Draco taught me!”

Harry’s eyes snapped over to his fiancé, who immediately held his hands up as a sign of surrender. Harry rolled his eyes, causing Draco to momentarily smirk before clearing his throat.

“Teddy, tell Uncle Harry what you told Grandma and I about what we’ve taught you.” Draco softly spoke. Harry turned back to Teddy, who nodded and continued, this time looking directly into Harry’s green eyes.

“Well, you and Uncle Draco have always taught me to stand up against bullies and that no means no.”

Consent. How could Harry forget he had taught his Godson about consent when it was one of the main things he instilled in his parenting? One of the first things Teddy learned besides who his parents were and what they did was that he—and everyone else—has self-autonomy, that no means no regardless of the situation, and that no one is allowed to touch anyone else without permission. It was one of the first things Harry and Draco agreed on back when Teddy was a baby and they made a list of things they’d teach him.

“You’re entirely right, Teddy,” Harry nodded, “No does mean no.”

And so began a very long conversation in the library of the Potter-Malfoy-Lupin household about how to appropriately stand up to bullies and advocate for others without using violence. By the end of it, Teddy apologized for engaging in a fight, and Harry and Draco apologized for not having the conversation beforehand. The three forgave each other and agreed to continue holding each other accountable for their actions; forgiveness and accountability were two other big lessons in their household. Although Harry could beat himself up over the fact that his Godson got in a physical fight with a peer, he had to pat himself on the back for an eleven year old’s ability to understand the importance of consent.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

FTWD 6x13: J.D. - Analysis

How did everyone like this episode of Fear? I thought it was really great. Very interesting. And they're setting up a lot of future storylines that I'm excited to watch.

***As always, spoilers abound below. Don’t read until you’ve watched!!!***

When we start out, we see two hatched eggs in a nest and a walker steps on them. On TTD, they said it represented the loss of Grace's baby. So that's kind of confirmation that when we saw the bird feeding its babies in the nest near Daryl, it was a foreshadow of him becoming apparent to Lydia and Henry.

We had lots of really great symbols in this episode. I probably didn't even catch them all. On TTD, Aisha Tyler said they purposely put a lot of Easter eggs into this episode.

Morgan is angry at June for not being there when Grace's baby died. She leaves to go try to figure out what's up with the "end is the beginning" people.

She comes to a red truck that has read and blue gas cans in the back of it. 

We also see a map with three Xs on it. Very reminiscent of the mat. Daryl used in 10x18 while looking for Rick.

June is looking for Ranger Hill, Ginny's right-hand guy, thinking he might know something about Teddy.

Dwight and Sherry join her, and Sherry seems to have some sort of agenda, but Dwight doesn't know what it is right away.

A new guy shows up and start shooting at them. June goes looking for him and comes across his RV.

This was a big symbol. Not only was the RV a big deal in regular TWD, but they use it here in much the same way. In S6, we see Rick get into the RV with yellow balloons tied to it. That makes it a symbol of escape, escaping death, and resurrection. We saw Rick come out of a yellow Ferris wheel car, escaping death, in 7x12. But even in 6x03, we saw the RV refusing to start and him get surrounded by walkers. But somehow, he got away and made it back to Alexandria.

June breaks into the RV and finds a wall full of missing people pictures and also pictures documenting where the "end is the beginning" graffiti has been sighted. I can’t help but wonder if this might be tied to TWD S11 and their wall of the missing at the Commonwealth. No idea, but it will be interesting to see.

Clearly, this man is tracking the people of the Holding. He turns out to be John Dorie, Sr., John’s father.

Before I go on, it's worth noting that one of the notes on the board said “Cyprus.” That's important because that was something that was written on Morgan's wall back in clear. Cyprus is a type of tree that generally represents everlasting life, healing, and put something else. It's often planted in cemeteries or near graves. It can often be associated with the underworld as well. So it's clear why they would use that as a symbol.

June swerves the RV because she's sick of John, Sr/ pointing a gun at her. In so doing, she "kills" the RV. The thing that made me laugh was that we see John, Sr.'s gun go off and it specifically shows a shot get fired through the top of the RV. So that's part of the Hole in the Roof theory. The RV represents Beth getting shot. The fact that it won't start again, especially due to walkers represents her "death" and being left behind. Again, in 6x03, Rick left the RV behind surrounded by walkers. Here, John, Sr. and June leave the RV behind as well, and it's a walker that got up underneath it and caused it not to run.

The other thing that struck me is how similar the blood dripping down from the walker looks to Abraham's military truck from 4x11, Claimed. 

In that case, it was gas dripping out of the truck because Eugene fired his gun and hit the fuel tank. But it just looks very similar. A long time ago, I theorized that military truck also was a representation of Beth getting shot.

We have an interesting Dwight and Sherry storyline here. Even though he doesn't know right away, she's decided she wants to go find and kill Negan. She rides her horse so hard that she kills it. Dwight agrees to help her get back to Virginia if she will help him find June, which she agrees to. In the end, she decides to let that go and stay with Dwight rather than going to look for Negan.

But I like that after the horse dies, she and Dwight right double on his horse. He reminded me a lot of the serious piggyback from Alone. I know it's not exactly a piggyback, but they are kind of pressed together in the same way and I feel like the symbolism might be similar. And of course by the end, they decide to start over and give the relationship a try again. So, it's fun symbolism.

We also find out that John, Sr. knew Teddy Maddox (leader of the Holding) when he was much younger and helped put him in prison. John framed Teddy in order to get him put away. He said he did the wrong thing for the right reason. So, he's had a relationship with Teddy Maddox for a long time. It will be interesting to see how this plays out.

I won’t go over all the dialogue parallels in this episode, because there were a lot. We saw more than one walker that was missing when eye, which is Sirius symbolism. John says, "crazy as a cut snake," which is snake symbolism. There was dialogue about West. 

There's dialogue about having only one eye. It was just rampant throughout the episode.

John, Sr. and June go to the bait shop near John's cabin and she wraps John Sr.'s hand. I did want to note that it was his right hand that was injured, much like Beth’s at Grady and Rick’s in S4.

John, Sr. leaves June in the bait shop to protect her and heads to the cabin by himself.

Dwight and Sherry reminisce about trying to go to a bonfire when they were younger, but getting the truck stuck in the mud. So, they just ended up drinking beers in the back together.

That’s almost exactly what happened with Beth and Daryl in Still. No, they were not in the truck trying to go to a bonfire, but they got stuck somewhere together and ended up drinking. And it kind of resulted in a bonfire. This scene gave me major Bethyl vibes. And that's important because Dwight and Sherry not only found each other but are together romantically again. And we’ve seen heavy Bethyl themes around them.

John, Sr. confronts Hill the Ranger, who shoots and tries to kill him. June then shoots him. As it turns out, he really doesn't know much more about Teddy Maddox than they already did, so it kind of a bust. After June patches him up, John Sr comes out of the cabin wrapped in a blanket with yellow flowers on it.

Remember, we saw yellow flowers in Alone, in the graveyard. Originally, because they were in the graveyard, I thought they must represent death. Now, I think they're more likely to represent escape from death or resurrection. It works for John, Sr. because like Beth, he was shot, but lived and healed. I also think he's meant to be sort of a resurrection of John. Since John died, his father fills the void in the show and also in June's life. I don't mean to say that they'll be romantically involved or anything, but he's kind of her new family now.

We got a bit of an explanation for why he left John when John was little. Then we got a really tragic and lovely funeral scene.

Dwight and Sherry get back together and June gives them back their wedding rings.

And in the end, they go back to Morgan's community. John Sr. will help them fight against Teddy.

On TTD, they talked about how pretty much every walker we see is a parallel or call back to something. I especially like that Aisha Tyler talked about how everything was planned very intricately and given very deep consideration. Of course, we already knew that, but it's validation that these are not just arcs that are thrown together. 

They deeply plan and carefully laid out and they put things like background symbols and walkers in very purposely and consciously to call back to earlier things. She even said a lot of them were callbacks to the flagship show (meaning regular TWD). It's nice to actually hear a writer say that and know that we are on the right track.

I'm excited to see how things go moving forward with the Holding and Teddy. From the sneak peek for next week, it looks like we’ll get some of his back story. That will definitely be interesting.

What did everyone else think of the episode?

[matrixaffiliate]

Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

TWO Chapters today? YES! You get two chapters today because I finished writing Endeavor yesterday! Two chapters will post on October 24th and the last two chapters will post October 31st - so that you can read some happy ending fluff that isn't the awful realities of cannon and Halloween. Enjoy my friends!

Chapter 15

Ted kissed her again, he had to, he'd been restraining himself all evening. She'd been very affectionate since they got to her home and he certainly wasn't going to snog her in front of her parents, no matter how much she was making him want to.

Apparently, Vic telling him she loved him resulted in some very appealing side effects.

"At some point, my mum is going to step out and ask if something's wrong with your car." Vic murmured against him as he kissed her against the railing leading up to her front door.

"We can hope that she'll then invite me in to stay the night." Ted ran his tongue along her bottom lip and grinned at the way she shuddered and sighed into him.

"I could come over tomorrow," her voice was breathless and Ted wasn't surprised when it nearly did him in. He heard her say she loved him for the first time not three hours ago, she could probably put him in his grave if she really put her mind to it.

"You were going to go flat hunting tomorrow," Ted reminded her. "Your mum mentioned something like that when she pulled out the ice cream."

"Maybe I'll just forget," Vic kissed him further.

"I'll wait till Sunday, love." Ted threaded one of his hands in her hair, feeling the soft strands slide along his fingers.

"I love you," she murmured against his lips.

Those three words were stronger and surer every time she said them, and they made Ted feel like he was living in a dream. It had been almost a year since he'd first met Vic, and now she was tangled around him with her lips pressed against his. Somewhere he'd done something right, somehow, he'd made it to this point, in some way he'd managed to make her his.

"You need to get home," her voice was regretful as she slowed their pace.

Ted kept her close against him, breathing her in and loving the way it made him feel complete to have her in his arms.

"You're probably right."

"I love you," Vic smiled up at him, her blue eyes filled with the reflection of the moon above them.

"I love you too," Ted felt like his chest was going to explode. He knew they were staring at each other like fools, but he couldn't stop it. She was everything.

"Alright, go home," Vic gave him a bit of a pout, "And let me know when you're there safe." She eased out of his embrace and Ted felt like his heart was leaving his chest, following her towards her front door.

"I will," he held onto the railing and watched her back up to the door. "Sleep well, love."

"You too, love." Vic's smile was bright as she slipped inside the now open doorway. "Night."

"Night," Ted took one more deep breath as she disappeared behind the door and shut it.

The walk to his car was almost painful. This wasn't exactly how he imagined things would go when Vic told him she loved him. He'd thought about it, especially after he'd reaffirmed to her that he still loved her, even after everything that had happened after he'd kissed her at their office, and his imagining didn't involve simply a ten-minute snog before they parted ways. It involved quite a bit more than that actually.

But as he drove home, Ted decided to simply be grateful for the leaps and bounds they had taken in this single day. She'd met not just his parents, but every member of the Marauders she didn't already know. And she had brought him home to meet her parents and siblings. But the icing on the cake was definitely Vic saying she loved him.

Yes, the day had been amazing, so he could handle it not being every dream he'd dreamt up over the last few months.

Ted looked down at the glove box as he pulled into his building's car park and smiled. He probably shouldn't keep the engagement ring he bought a few days after their first date in there, but it was locked, and it made it so he wasn't worried about having her over at his flat. She could open any drawer and every door and not figure out how certain he'd been then and still was now that she was the woman that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And now that she told him she'd fallen in love with him too, and they'd met each other's families, well, he didn't really have much need to wait anymore.

He could ask her on Sunday if he wanted to.

No, not Sunday, that wasn't going to give him enough time. He wanted proposing to Vic to be something special and memorable. A story worthy of who she was, and what he felt for her. She wasn't the kind of girl that you just asked over dinner. No, Vic was the kind of girl that you went all out for. She was the girl you pulled out all the stops and thrills to show her what she meant to you. He'd need more than thirty-six hours to put together a proposal that was right for Vic.

Ted opened the glove box and pulled the burgundy box out. He smiled at the ring that had been so obvious when he found it. It felt like Vic when he first saw it, and it still reminded him of her when he indulged himself to pull it out of the glove box. The sparse yellow colored light in his car couldn't completely dampen the way the stones sparkled back at him. He'd wanted to see it in the sunlight, sparkling on her hand, maybe while they were laying together on a warm beach watching the waves crash on the shore.

Ted snapped the lid closed and locked the box back up in his glove box. He'd plan something special. He'd make sure that Vic knew exactly how much he loved her when he popped that particular question.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"I think I might be picky," Vic sighed and Ted moved to prop his arm against the back of his couch as he continued his video call with her.

"What was wrong with all of them?"

Vic shrugged, "They didn't feel like home."

Ted laughed. "Vicky, love, these flats won't feel like home until you move into them and live in them for a couple of months."

"I get that, they all just felt, I don't know, wrong." She looked at him helplessly and Ted tried to reassure her.

"Hey, it was just the first day, and you only looked at a few flats. Give yourself some room to breathe, and maybe after looking at a few others you'll feel better about it."

"I wish your building had some openings in my price range." Vic smiled. "You're close to my office and I really like the layout."

Ted smirked at her, "Are you asking to move in with me?"

"No," Vic rolled her eyes at him. "I'm just realizing how perfect your flat is, present occupant excluded, of course."

"I'm wounded!" Ted laughed. "You have no idea what you're talking about! Kalil will tell you that I'm a great roommate! I even replace the crisp bags after I've eaten the last of 'em!"

"Right," Vic looked amused, "because that's the most important part of a roommate."

"What else is there?" Ted laughed. "Besides," he retrieved an envelope from the coffee table, "As far as Kalil and Maira are concerned, you do live here." He held up the address so she could read it. "If I'm not mistaken, this says Ted Lupin and Vic Weasley, and it only has my address on it."

Vic's eyes went wide with excitement, "Is that the invitation?"

"Yep," Ted slid the invite out and held it up in front of his phone's camera.

"Hold it still," Vic laughed, "I'm trying to take a screenshot of it."

"So, I should RSVP yes for both of us then?" Ted tried to hold both his phone and the invite steady for his girlfriend.

"Of course, I'm going!" Vic laughed. "I love Maira and Kalil, they're a lot of fun."

Ted set the invite down and looked back at Vic, "You only say that because Kalil takes the mickey out of me every chance he gets."

"And Maira always levels the field for you. It's a fun game to watch."

"True," Ted smiled. "I'll let Kalil know you'll be there."

"You have to go too," Vic rolled her eyes. "You're his best man."

"Ah," Ted sighed, "Guess I'll have to let you drag me around the dance floor a time or two, then won't I?"

"I don't know," Vic teased. "Your mum was telling me that your dad has two left feet. Do you dance better than he does?"

Ted shook his head and smirked, "I'm a right side worse."

Vic laughed. "See when you look at me like that, I think you're teasing and I'm going to be shocked when we get there and you're a better dancer than I am."

"I'll just have to let you wait in anticipation then, won't I?"

Vic's smile went soft, "You like to make me wait in anticipation for a lot of things, don't you?"

Ted's smirk fell a bit; did he do that a lot?

"Does it bother you?"

"No," Vic's smile was still soft, "I don't mind a bit of anticipation."

Ted wasn't sure they were talking about the same thing anymore.

"Well, you can sit in anticipation of my dancing skills for a couple more months then."

"I can do that." Her smile was almost shy now.

Ted smiled back at her, but he was now almost certain she was not thinking about dancing at Kalil and Maira's wedding. Though he couldn't fathom exactly where her mind was.

"You should send me the listing photos of these flats you went and looked at." Ted deliberately changed the subject. The way the conversation had gone off the rails on him made him jumpy.

Vic laughed, "Sure, then you can see what I'm talking about when I say that they're wrong."

Ted's phone lit up with the links and he noticed the time.

"I'll have to look at these with you tomorrow," he frowned, "Mum asked me to come to dinner tonight."

"Oh no, what did you do?" Vic teased.

"I'm never sure, but I've found that any mother can usually find something to encourage her children to improve on if she tries hard enough."

"Do you need to head out now then?" Vic pouted.

Teddy wished she was next to him, instead of at her home on her phone. "I've got another fifteen minutes that are all yours."

"Alright," Vic grinned, "then I choose that we plan out what we're doing tomorrow."

"Whatever you say, love," Ted smiled and leant back into the couch.

Ted finished his call with Vic with just enough time to make it to his mum's invite to dinner that evening. He was sure that his parents wanted a chance to talk about what had happened the night before. His and Vic's stunt from the night before was pretty unlike him and he was sure that his parents wanted to know if there was more going on than he'd told them so far.

Ted certainly hoped for there to be more going on very soon, and he was sort of looking forward to bouncing ideas around with his parents for how to make those hopes a reality.

"I'm home!" Ted called out as he let himself in.

"Teddy!" His mum met him in the corridor and nearly knocked a picture off the wall when she threw her arms out to pull him into a hug.

Ted went for the frame, but his dad's steadying hand beat him to it.

"Welcome home, son," Remus chuckled.

"So," Ted cut to the chase as he followed his parents into the den. "What did you want to talk about without Vic around?"

His mum gave him a pointed stare. "When you say it like that it makes us sound like gossiping hens."

"It is why you invited me over, though" Ted fell onto the couch and gave his mum the cheeky grin he'd learned from his dad.

"We were just hoping to know if things were going to be moving towards a place where we should be setting some money aside to help you with potential upcoming expenses." His dad smirked at him.

Ted couldn't keep the smile off his face. His dad might have been intending to tease him, but Teddy wasn't able to be teased at this point, he was too excited, and just a little nervous.

"You've asked her?!" His mum's voice was a mix between ecstatic and accusatory, and she nearly knocked her drink off the coffee table, catching it in the nick of time.

"No," Ted laughed, "but I'm working on a plan for that."

"Do you want to bounce some ideas off of us?" His dad's face lit up with excitement and Teddy felt that little bit of nervousness he felt ease a fraction more.

"Of course, he does," his mum seemed to have recovered from her outburst, sliding her drink a little closer to the center of the table.

"I actually only have one idea," Ted rubbed the back of his neck. "Kalil and Maira's wedding is in just under two months. I was thinking of asking her at their reception."

"That sounds like something Vic would like," his mum nodded as she smiled. "She struck me as one of those romantic types."

"Do you want it to be a complete surprise? I did a pretty decent job at that with your mum." His dad mused.

Ted laughed as his mum rolled her eyes.

"I was only surprised because I had to work so hard to get you to date me that I was certain that I'd need to fight you tooth and nail to get you to marry me."

Remus pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.

"That's why it was so much fun to surprise you."

"That could be fun," Ted smiled at the thought of completely taking Vic by surprise. "But I'm not sure how to throw her off. I mean, she's sharp, and I tend to have to tease her to throw her off of anything, but when I made her guess my last name it took her all of ten seconds to figure it out once I gave her a couple of clues."

Remus looked thoughtful, "That could make things difficult. Part of what made it possible with your mum and I was that I was a bit of an arse when things started out."

"Yes," Dora laughed, but then kissed Remus' cheek. "But you came around in the end."

Ted frowned. "There has to be a way to make this work."

"It doesn't have to be a surprise," his mum smiled. "Peter and Bridget had decided that they'd get married before Pete formally asked her with a ring and everything."

"I already have the ring," Teddy replied absently as he kept turning the problem around in his mind.

"You have the ring already?" Dora looked over at Remus with a look Teddy couldn't read, but he was sort of distracted and dismissed it.

"How long have you had the ring, son?" Remus' voice was deceptively casual, but Ted was too caught up to notice.

"I bought it a few days after we started dating." Ted kept working through options in his head, and then the solution struck him.

"Teddy…" His mum started but Ted cut her off.

"I've got it!" He grinned as the idea took hold and he realized how much fun it could be.

"What's your idea?" His dad pulled him from his internal self-congratulations.

Ted smirked, "If every interaction somehow involves me looking like I might be proposing, then the real proposal will be just as surprising as when you proposed to Mum."

Remus laughed, "You're reversing the game to get the same result, very impressive, Teddy."

"Be nice to my future daughter-in-law," Dora warned. "I happen to really like Vic and I don't want you teasing her to the point of insanity."

"That's a good point," Ted leant back into the couch. "I'd need to introduce it to her somehow, in a way that lets her know that I plan on proposing, but leaves the when up in the air; and it would need to be sort of casual and teasing."

"You could watch a movie with a proposal in it with her," his mum suggested. "You could use that as your segue into the conversation."

Ted frowned; he didn't really want it to be something like that. He wanted it to be something more natural.

"Or you could bring it up with her directly," his dad offered, "Tell her you want to know if marrying you is something she sees in her future, and then you could mention that you're planning on asking, at some point."

Teddy shook his head. "No, I need it to come off as teasing her."

And then it hit him and he grinned as the idea started to take shape in his head.

"I think I've got it."

[beetlegoose01]

stolen whispers-chapter 2

AN: Chapter 2 is here!!  I decided to post it on here as normal, I hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: Albus discovers Scorpius is missing and must rely on the help of his family.

Time: Spring 2028

Extra info: James Sirius is married to my OC, Iris. They have two children.

~~~~

It had been a few hours since Scorpius had left. Now at nearly 2pm, Albus was starting to grow concerned. Scorpius had a tendency to dawdle and get distracted by all the wonderful things at the market, but this was a bit ridiculous. Even for Scorpius. Panicking would do him no good, so he decided to try calling him. One ring...two...three...straight to voice-mail. Well, shit. He sighed, running his hand through his dark curls. He wasn't paranoid, but he decided to send him a text too, just for good measure.

Still nothing. But it hadn't been that long. Surely Scorpius would call shortly. Everything would be fine. But there was a pit in his stomach still, a strong feeling that something was wrong.

'Paranoia be damned.' Albus thought. 'I have to make sure he's okay.'

The farmer's market had cleared out mostly, several vendors were starting to pack up. Heart pumping in his chest, he approached the nearest one.

"Ms. Beaker!" He called.

"Al, dear." The old woman smiled kindly. "What can I do for you? I'm afraid I'm packing up my fruit for today."

"Have you seen Scorpius?" He asked impatiently. "My husband."

"Oh yes." Ms. Beaker said. "He bought my strawberries, such a nice young man. But I haven't seen him since. He seemed to have vanished."

"Vanished?" Albus repeated. "Thank- thank you. I've got to go now."

He walked briskly towards the end of the market, trying not to think of worse case scenarios. Just as he was hovering his finger over his phone, about to call him again, something made him stop in his tracks.

A discarded basket lay clumsily on the ground. Several strawberries were scattered clumsily across the floor. Its handles were bent, clearly messed around with, but at the same time recognizable to him. Scorpius brought it with him on market trips. He often joked that it made him look like Red Riding Hood, a muggle fairytale. Albus had even tied a silver ribbon to the handle as a gift.

"Scorpius..." He murmured, collecting the basket. Okay, maybe panicking was a good idea.

'Draco. I have to find Draco. He'll know what to do.'

Finding a secluded area to collect his thoughts, he apparated to the infamous Malfoy Manor. He didn't waste any time admiring the gilded gates or the fountains or even the proud peacocks grazing nearby. No, he had to find his father in law. Luck was on his side, because he found the older wizard outside, admiring a flowered hedge.

"Draco!" He gasped, rushing forward. He didn't care about being sweaty or rude for intruding. "Please- I need your...sir I need your help."

Draco raised his brow, now puzzled as to why his son in law had apparted to the Manor at such an odd time. "With what? Come here, son.”

"I can't- I don’t." Albus shook his head.

"Where's Scorpius?"

"That's just it. I don't know. He's..." He looked grim. "He's missing."

"What do you mean 'missing'?" Draco said, though he looked deeply worried. As if he already knew the worst was coming.

Albus made a frustrated noise. "I mean, he's gone! He was at the farmer's market earlier today and he's been gone for hours. I’ve called him using my mobile, but still nothing at all. No response, not even a text."

"And he didn't have any work or ...?"

"No."

"We can't assume anything. Perhaps you should wait here while I think of something."

"Draco, what else can we do? We can't sit here when he could be hurt or lost or-"

"Why weren't you with him?" Draco demanded, his temper rising. The two men were face to face, both more scared than angry. “How could my son be missing again?”

"In case you didn't realize Draco, he's a grown adult and can go wherever he likes." Albus retorted, not the least bit intimidated by his father in law. He may be shorter than him, but he was stubborn as sin, and nothing mattered more than Scorpius. "That isn't the point, I didn't think this would happen. Please, can we not argue and figure out what to do?"

"You're right." He sighed. He looked so much older, exhausted. "I'm sorry, us arguing isn't going to help. I know it wasn’t your fault."

For a brief moment, their eyes met. Two men that loved Scorpius in different ways.

"I don't want to think it's a kidnap, but if it is?"

Draco hummed. "The Malfoys have many enemies. It wouldn't surprise me." He fiddled with his wedding ring. "We can't assume though, surely we can..."

A letter dropped in front of them with a thud. It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, no owl in sight.

Draco snatched it before Al could, scanning it over. He looked faint, dazed. Pale and sickly, he read it over once. Then again. His hands were trembling.

"Draco....Draco!" He waved his arm desperately. "What does it say?"

"It's Scorpius. You’re right. He...has been taken."

No. No this can't be happening. Not Scorpius. Anybody but Scorpius.

"By who?" Albus urged, growing more frantic by the second. "We can't waste time standing around or..." His eyes filled with desperate, terrified tears. "Is he alive?" He whispered. "I need to know."

"Yes, he's alive." Draco nodded gravely. "I don't know who they are, but they're Death Eater sympathizers. Read it- they want gold."

Malfoy,

If you want to see your son alive again, listen carefully.

Empty all the gold you have and bring it to us.

And, join our side to repent your sins of betraying the Dark Lord.

We will bring your son back safe and sound.

Send the money to ____ and come alone.

~~~~

L, M, S

Albus sighed in relief. "They just want money, that's easy, isn't it? We can pool in however much they want."

"That's not the issue. Think, Albus!" Draco snapped. "I would give them all the gold in the Malfoy vaults if it meant Scorpius was safe. But who's to say they won't comply once they have it?"

Albus frowned, thinking for a moment. "We have to try at least. L...M...S, who could they be?"

"And that's not all they want. They want me to join their side. To make up for my betrayal of Voldemort."

"You wouldn't." He said. "Nor would Scorpius. Let's bring the note to Jamie and Iris, see if they can decipher it. Maybe my dad can-"

"I have to."

"What?" Albus looked alarmed. His heart was pounding as he waited for Draco to explain himself.

"They don't just want money. Look at it closer," He pointed at the note. "If I refuse..."

"They won't tell us where he is?"

Draco's grey eyes were wide with fear. "Worse. They'll kill him."

~•~

Albus refused to rest until he found some sort of clue of Scorpius' whereabouts. Draco had reluctantly opted to stay at the manor, in case more ransom notes arrived.

His first instinct was to visit James and Iris. Iris was an accomplished Auror, and James...well he was good for moral support. Lily was off in Romania, so she wouldn't be much help.Then contact his parents who would help as well. His Aunt Hermione too. He'd want the entire Ministry of Magic to help rescue Scorpius.

"I'll send you a patronus if something happens." Draco vowed. He reached a hand to Albus' shoulder. "Please bring him back safely."

Albus nodded firmly. "I will."

He used Draco's fireplace, holding his breath as he traveled through the floo network. His mind flashed of Scorpius' sweet blue eyes and dimpled cheeks. Youthful but wise beyond his years. His first best friend.

Please be alright. Please.

He tumbled out of the fireplace in a heap of soot. He grunted, standing up, too determined to focus on the state of himself. Probably a mess, hair askew and clothes covered in dirt.

"Bloody hell, Al!" His sister in law; Iris exclaimed. "What are you-"

"Iris." He gasped. "I need your help."

"You better sit down then. You look a right state." She said, looking the antithesis of Albus. Neat, pristine and elegant with her dark hair down her shoulders. A book she had been reading was on the floor, no doubt thrown to the side after being startled by Al's unexpected entrance. Little Henry, still a toddler even dropped his blocks.

"Alligator!" Henry piped, pointing at Albus.

"Yes, sweetheart it's Uncle Alligator." Iris said softly. Henry seemed satisfied with that, and went back to his blocks.

"Thanks," Albus murmured, taking a seat as she gestured to him. She flicked her wand casually, and a charmed teapot started to whistle. "Where's-"

"Jim's with Jazzy, off practicing Quidditch." She explained, levitating the mug towards his shaky hands. Albus would have chuckled at the nickname, but felt too numb. "Right then, what's happened?"

He explained the entire situation, but it came out so weakly, it felt like he was vomiting. His stomach was queasy with anxiety.

"It's all my fault. I should have been with him, then it wouldn't have happened." He put his head in his hands.

"Stop it, Al. Listen to me very carefully, okay?" Iris said, after examining the letter. "It's in no way your fault. So stop moping, chin up, I'll help you out. We all will. James, Teddy, Harry, Hermione, my mum...everyone will help find Scorpius."

Albus stared at his tea, eyes watering. "I don't know." He whispered. "I don't..."

"Take a deep breath," She placed a gentle, comforting hand to his shoulder. "We will. I swear on it."

"I'm scared."

"I know. It'll be okay."

"You don't know that."

"You're right. I don't. But still I'm going to send an owl to everyone. We'll need as many people as possible to decipher this note."

"Are you sure you want to help out I mean with..." Albus gestured at her barely visible bump.

Iris narrowed her eyes sharply, summoning parchment. "Yes. I've made up the guest room by the way. You're staying here."

"I don't need to..."

"You are. I insist. You don't need to be alone tonight. And don't argue. You're no good if you're exhausted." She lifted Henry in her arms, bouncing him. "Now shoo, I've got to finish this one letter."

"Who else are you contacting?" Albus tilted his head.

"The second best Auror I know, the one who can help us find him and decipher any codes from these people."

"Don't leave me in suspense, Iris."

"You won't love it...but..."

"Iris." He pressed.

"It's Rose."

~•~

Rose. Rose Granger-Weasley was an enigma. They had gotten along as kids, played gobstones and quidditch for hours but as they grew older, things were awkward and distant. After school, they remained cordial. Still, if she was supposedly their only hope, he would (begrudgingly) comply.

"Hey there baby brother." James opened the guest room door. "Dinner's ready!"

"I'm not hungry." Albus said flatly. How could he possibly eat or rest or do anything when Scorpius was alone somewhere.

"Listen, I know you're worried about Scorpius..." James said. "But Rose is here, and she read the note. She has an idea."

"And? What is it?" He snapped.

"Hi Al." Rose poked her head from behind James.

"What do you want?"

"Nice to see you too, Albus." She said coolly. "My idea is...well, it really requires us both to work together."

Albus scowled.

"We have to give them the gold.” She said. “It’s the only way, for sure that they’ll bring Scorpius back.” 

“There’s no promise they’ll just hand him over!” Albus said. “Draco said, he said they might just be using it as a trick- to bait us.” 

“If they do turn on us, we’ll have a team of Aurors to fight against them. Iris, meanwhile since she’s-” 

Albus gestured vaguely to his midsection. “Pregnant.”

“We don’t want her going into a possible battle. I’m not putting her, or our baby at risk.” James said, his voice hoarse. 

“She’ll be doing research on these kidnappers. Find out as much information as she can.” Rose explained. “We could find out why exactly they want Scorpius. Why are they still hung up over a war that ended three decades ago.” 

“Because they’re insane?” Albus frowned. “Who cares why? They have him, and we have to get him back!”

“Think for once, Albus!” Rose said, and Albus felt his temper rising again. “Finding out the why gives us clues as to how to find him! I know you want to gallantly rescue him, but you have to think logically. We have to plan this out.” 

“While you’re planning this, he could be hurt or…” Albus gulped, refusing to say it. He knew they were all thinking it. “I’m not wasting time.” 

“While you’re both arguing,” James interrupted. “You’re wasting precious time. I think Rose is right. Draco brings the gold to them, they bring Scorpius. If they don’t, we’ve got our team to kick their arses until they cry.”  

“I wasn’t going to put it that way but…”

“Draco already wrote his response. Now all we need to do is find them.” 

Albus wasn’t too confident in this plan. It sounded deeply flawed. But, if this was the one way to get Scorpius back, he refused to argue anymore.

[aion-rsa]

How Psych Evolved Through the Character of Carlton Lassiter

https://ift.tt/2ZONt8A

Early on in the Psych pilot, Shawn Spencer’s (James Roday Rodriguez) ludicrous plot to impersonate a psychic in order to solve crime suddenly takes on grave stakes: Chief Vick (Kirsten Nelson) informs him that if he’s lying, he’ll be prosecuted for hindering a police investigation. Just like that, he’s locked into his lie, and has no choice but to let it snowball—into a private eye business with his best friend Burton Guster (Dulé Hill), but also into a lucrative consultancy gig for the Santa Barbara Police Department that, psychic antics be damned, legitimately saves lives.

But while it’s the Chief who put the fear of God into Shawn, the true threat to his secret was always one Carlton Jebediah Lassiter (Timothy Omundson). In the early seasons, Lassiter was the perfect foil: a by-the-book detective obsessed with proper procedure and with hypermasculinity, who had patience for neither Gus’ high-pitched squeals nor Shawn’s supernatural “hunches.” The fake psychic’s obnoxious theatrics were nothing without an exasperated reaction from Carlton… especially as those hunches kept paying off and making this old dog all the more self-conscious about his own inability to learn new tricks.

Even moreso than their eventual tango duet in Psych: The Musical, Shawn and Lassie’s song has always been the Psych theme:

I know, you know, that I’m not telling the truth

I know, you know, they just don’t have any proof

Embrace the deception, learn how to bend

Your worst inhibitions tend to psych you out in the end

Yet even as Lassiter delighted in watching Shawn get shown up by other fake psychics and even threatened to be the one to someday catch him in the act, over the course of the series this seeming antagonist shifted into a comic relief role and eventually a truly sympathetic figure. As Carlton became Lassie, so too did Psych grow beyond its cheeky premise, from a potentially one-note episodic show to a serialized dramedy about a found family solving crimes in all manner of unconventional ways—a connection that was cemented in Psych: The Movie and now in Psych 2: Lassie Come Home.

It started with Shawn noticing that Lassie needed help, even if he would never say so outright—when he encountered the detective, drunk and loose-lipped and off his game, in “From the Earth to Starbucks.” Not only was he confounded by Shawn’s skills, Lassiter confessed, but it made him feel worse about the fact that he couldn’t solve what he believed was the murder of a local astronomer who seemingly died of natural causes. Shawn, Gus, and Juliet (Maggie Lawson) spent the rest of that episode surreptitiously helping Lassiter solve what was indeed a murder, all while throwing him clues without him realizing. There was a noticeable absence of Shawn’s psychic shtick in that season 1 episode, since the point was to give Lassiter all the credit, which meant making it look like Lassiter’s way of working. Shawn didn’t have to perform, aside from moments of conspiring with Jules, because it was very much a case of What Would Lassie Do?

Read more

Movies

Psych 2: Lassie Come Home Easter Egg and Reference Guide

By Natalie Zutter

Movies

Psych 2: Lassie Come Home Review

By Natalie Zutter

By the time “Lassie Did a Bad, Bad Thing” in season 3 and was the prime suspect in a criminal’s death, he knew he had no choice but to bring Psych in where the SBPD wouldn’t investigate. And in the case of “Last Night Gus” in season 6—well, it was in everyone’s best interests to solve the mystery of that Hangover-esque night. Over the years, viewers discovered along with Shawn, Gus, and Jules various Lassie quirks: He works out his daddy issues by dressing up as his Civil War ancestor and an archetypal cowboy. He enjoys tap dancing with Gus because it helps him sort through his thoughts. He falls in love with Marlowe (Kristy Swanson) despite her criminal record. He shares more and more of himself with these colleagues who become friends and then family. In turn, he comes to, if not actually believe in, then at least accept the idiosyncrasies of Psych—because like it or not, it makes his professional and personal lives better. At the same time, Shawn’s lie quietly explodes his relationship with Juliet, as it makes her doubt that he was telling her the truth about anything. Even after they reconcile, the ramifications of almost losing her cause Shawn to pull back from automatically playing the psychic card.

And then Lassiter winds up shot and recovering in a hospital bed, helpless in the most Hitchcockian fashion at the start of Psych 2, and there’s no question about who he’ll call.

Clearly creator Steve Franks and the other writers made the decision that if they were to have Lassiter as a presence in Psych’s present, they had no choice but to draw from Omundson’s personal experience recovering from a debilitating stroke. Yet it’s eerie how well this dramatic arc fits Lassiter’s character—Lassie, who may have become a big teddy bear by the end of the series, but who is still obsessed with (heterosexual, able-bodied) notions of supposed manliness. Carlton “Danger” Lassiter, who once said he would go out “in a hailstorm of bullets” if it meant catching a criminal. Now he has to face the knowledge that he may never walk again.

Interestingly, Juliet is not the one whose help Lassiter specifically requests, despite their history as partners. In fact, it’s likely their shared experience that makes him reluctant to put her in that position; if there’s someone that Carlton would be afraid to be exposed in front of, it’s his former mentee. How can he reconcile asking the one-time junior detective whom he showed the ropes to adapt to a situation where he’s still getting his bearings? To wit, he puts her off with a to-do list of errands—a throwback to their early days together, when he frequently invited her to “shut it” or otherwise stay in her lane.

Thankfully, one of the many lessons Juliet took from their time together in the field was to not obey orders when she knows she’s on to something. And so she returns to the scene of the crime where Lassiter was shot, follows up on ballistics, and locates the missing puzzle piece of the second bullet. Shawn and Gus get the ghosts, but Jules gets the shooter. Between being confined to his hospital room, and in the face of Jules’ own stubborn tenacity, Lassiter couldn’t have stopped her if he tried. In many ways, accepting help not asked for demands even more vulnerability from him.

What’s most fascinating about Shawn and Gus’ investigation in Lassie Come Home is that not for a moment do they bullshit Lassiter. This isn’t a case for Psych, it’s an act of love from two close friends—absolutely no psychic spectacle necessary. Now, one could argue that Shawn wouldn’t have even thought to make up a vision because, as far as he knows, Lassiter watched his goodbye video (in the series finale) all the way to the end, where he confessed the truth behind how he manages to solve so many crimes.

Instead, right before Shawn could give Lassiter the answer he’d dreamed of hearing for eight seasons, the detective popped out the DVD and broke it in half. At the time, this moment in the Psych canon, arguably more than his relationship with Marlowe or his identity as a father, was when Lassiter experienced his greatest character growth: He would rather pause time, to focus on all the good that Shawn had accomplished through his lie, than be right.

But time can’t stay paused forever; and if Lassiter is being clear-eyed about how Shawn solves his baffling hospital sightings in Lassie Come Home, then he also has no illusions about his inability to solve his own mystery alone. He can contribute his observations—credible and not—and draw his own conclusions, but he has to trust Shawn, Gus, and Juliet to be his eyes, ears, and legs outside of the prison of his room. He also has to accept that he’s not always present in the crime-solving; there’s a recurring theme in which Lassiter, drifting on his meds, opens his eyes to Shawn and Gus, or Juliet, waiting expectantly for him to wake up and catch up. In one scene where Shawn goes to ask his advice about fatherhood, Lassie is completely asleep, an incredible display of vulnerability from both Lassiter and Omundson.

Yet as we learn in his final showdown with the murderous nurse Dolores (Sarah Chalke), just because Lassiter closes his eyes doesn’t mean he’s out for the count. The way he outwits her is Lassiter to a tee: Even while slipping away from the fatal morphine drip, he has enough wherewithal to grab one of three (three!) guns he had stashed in his hospital room—just like in “Lassie Did a Bad, Bad Thing.”

But this time, instead of being all cool and flipping the bullet into his hand, this Lassiter is babbling to the morphine-induced hallucination of his dead father (Joel McHale) about how much it hurt to lose him, about how he’s afraid he’ll leave his daughter to grow up without a father just like he did.

The moment is played for laughs, with Dolores’ face screwing up into incredulity—this guy has a gun pulled on her, and he’s still mumbling closure to his ghost dad? But for fans, it’s tantamount to the DVD moment: Lassiter has finally found the way to be unguarded, to embrace the ridiculousness of the present moment without self-consciousness, without losing sight of the perp. Even though he has the upper hand, he’s still scared about what he’s going to do when he gets out of this room. He can put away a killer, but he can’t predict his own future beyond the hospital.

Which makes his reunion with Marlowe—witnessed only by Jules and Henry (Corbin Bernsen)—all the more moving. Another character in another narrative wouldn’t have cared if he returned to his wife in a wheelchair, wouldn’t have agonized over mustering enough strength to stand face-to-face with her. But it’s Lassiter, with specific ideas about what it means to be a man, and for him that means looking Marlowe in the eye so they can press their hands together—this time not glass between them, nor either of their pasts, but this new challenge—in solidarity.

Lassiter’s not perfect: He has a lot of toxic masculinity left to unlearn, and he owns an appalling number of guns. He’s still more conservative than not. Because he’s a cop who becomes more sympathetic, his narrative contributes to the larger cultural trend of “copaganda” on television. It’s the same problematic issue that faces the characters on Brooklyn Nine-Nine: Even if he’s lovable, and especially because of this fact, his identity as a police officer complicates the conversation around his character growth.

But within the world of Psych, he’s a character with a worthwhile arc. Like Lassiter, the series started out following a strict formula, and only after it had relaxed into something stronger than its premise—its talented ensemble, ‘80s riffs, and library of delightful in-jokes and callbacks—could it grow beyond its initial form.

Speaking of in-jokes… For the 100-plus teases, hints, and outright cameos the series gave us of its signature symbol, we all failed to spot Psych’s most important pineapple appearance. Lassiter is the pineapple! Prickly on the outside, sweet (but still tart) on the inside. Often difficult to spot, but so rewarding to find. Case closed.

The post How Psych Evolved Through the Character of Carlton Lassiter appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/30EtLMm

[the-fahc-golden-boy]

“You’re Shorter Than I Imagined”

First chapter of a new fic I’m working on! That’s right folks, I’m rising from my grave to start writing again!

Pairing(s): Jeremy/Gavin Michael/Ryan Geoff/Jack

Read it on AO3 if you’d like: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20008159

~~~~~

“You’re shorter than I imagined”

Jeremy knew at age 9 what exactly a soulmate was. 

At age 12 he was already planning his wedding proposal with the help of some of his friends. 

At age 15, when he was much shorter than his classmates and deemed a “late bloomer” he knew he was going to punch his soulmate the first time he saw them. 

At age 18 he had given up hope of growing past 5’4” and had come to terms with the fact that his soulmate was either going to get punched, or get a very sarcastic response (he was really hoping to punch them).

At age 24 he found himself in a different city, a different state; across the entire country. He somehow managed this by joining an underground boxing ring, stealing a monster truck, and faking his ID in order to get a plane ticket as fast as possible.

Los Santos was gritty, bloody, dark, and everything Jeremy needed to hide out for a while. What he wasn’t expecting was to end up planting roots permanently in the city.

The first root was Axial.

He met Axial while working as his “bodyguard” for a crew that was newly pieced together and still struggling with power balances. Jeremy was hired on to be extra muscle, and was immediately used to guard the hired hacker. Jeremy never said a word to Axial, and Axial never said a word to him.

Jeremy’s job was to keep watch over Axial to make sure nothing happened to him; so Jeremy just stood nearby idly on his phone. Axial just typed away on his laptop, occasionally talking in code over the radio.

“Hey eye-sore, c’mere for a moment,” Jeremy was startled slight by the slightly gruff voice coming from behind him. He quickly whipped around to see Axial rubbing at his eyes, the bags under them much more noticeable when he was looking away from his computer screen.

Jeremy pointed at himself questioningly, unsure if he was indeed the “eye-sore” Axial meant. Axial just nodded yes and sighed as he looked back at his laptop screen.

“Please tell me you know how to code. Even basics would be fine.”

“I uh, know some basic coding, yes. Enough to get by on my own.” Jeremy stood in front of the desk, unsure what Axial wanted him to do.

“I need you to look over this and see if you can find any coding bugs. If you can’t then go get me a rubber duck.” 

A quick five minute glance soon turned into an hour long search through the mess of letters and numbers, which ended up in Jeremy making a run to the nearest corner store for a rubber duck. Jeremy picked up the first one he saw; a little yellow duck wearing a green frog hat. Axial laughed when it was presented to him, but graciously took the gift.

Two hours later saw him tiredly fixing the small bugs he found as he relayed the whole code to the little duck, which had been named “Duckington” by the two of them.

That little duck was the first piece of a long friendship.

The second root he planted was when he permanently joined the crew that had originally hired him to keep watch over Axial (or Matt seeing as how they were on a first name basis).

The crew was more of a rag-tag team of people, no one that really fit in anywhere else but with other misfits. It was actually rather nice.

Everyone felt more like a family, all on even ground with each other. No inner-crew hierarchies to climb, no chain of command to follow, it was very much a team effort which you never really saw with crews in Los Santos.

The crew was his family, better than the one he grew up with in Boston.

The third root was hard to appreciate at first.

The “B-Team” as they called themselves had decided to merge with one of the other similar crews. The “Fake AH Crew” as they called themselves, or really just the Fakes if you wanted to avoid the mouthful.

Jeremy had been skeptical at first, but everyone else seemed to enjoy (or at least entertain) the idea of coming together with the other crew.

The Fakes were smaller than them, but yet held more influence over the city by having picked up a couple heavy names over the years. 

Jeremy got along with Kingpin, aka Geoff, the “leader” of the crew. He quickly learned that Geoff wasn’t the greatest at leading them, just good at keeping appearances up and helping direct people into the best jobs. Geoff was actually rather lazy and spent his free time reading and just overall being a dad to the crew. (Yeah Jeremy had accidentally called him dad a couple times, but so had everyone else at some point)

Then there was the Pilot. Fierce and stiff and just about as scary as the jets she flew. Only in reality, she was the closest thing to a human teddy bear. Jack was Geoff’s soulmate, she had shown the phrase on her arm to everyone in the crew as a warming-up story, the phrase “Dear GOD please don’t hit me” was written across her forearm, everyone laughing at the idea of Geoff “Touch my books and I’ll gut you” Ramsey had thought Jack was going to jump him the first chance she got, when in reality she was keeping him away from a drunk driver.

The story was warm and kind of sickenly sweet for a pair of crime bosses, but it didn’t make Jeremy feel any better about the five words scrawled across his own right arm. “You’re shorter than I imagined” Yeah whoever his soulmate was, was going to get a swift beating, supernatural connection or not.

The next person Jeremy got acquainted with was the Vagabond. Before meeting him, he was Jeremy’s idol and worst nightmare at the same time. The Vagabond was like everyone in Los Santos’ boogeyman; slinking in the shadows and taking lives like it was what he was born to do. But Jeremy quickly learned that the Vagabond was just a kind of a title, passed along to Ryan Haywood. A quiet former model turned mechanic that was roped into the life by a former friend and ended up with the black skull mask (the only constant) by sheer dumb luck.

Ryan and Jeremy worked well together, and hell even the Vagabond and Rimmy Tim did too.

Rimmy Tim was Jeremy’s new “alter-ego”. The purple and orange eye sore that had befriended Matt, that same art student’s nightmare that introduced himself to the Fakes on the first combined heist. Rimmy Tim was what Jeremy used to be; crazy, rambunctious, and just dumb enough to try to make a get away in a monster truck. Rimmy Tim was Jeremy minus the fear of his past.

Mogar at first was the last person Jeremy wanted to meet. Word on the street said that Mogar was a savage, some kid Kingpin picked up in the middle of the woods and handed a gun to, telling him one thing and one thing only, “Shoot first and ask questions never”. Some even said Mogar was the Jersey Devil himself. Jeremy knew all this to be a lie as soon as he saw Mogar for one night. Mogar was just Michael, a kid from his high school that had an obsession with lighting bags of dog shit on fire and throwing them into rich people’s yards while laughing his ass off about it for the next week.

Michael wasn’t scary.

But if he wanted scary? The one who locked himself up in the computer room with Matt all day was scary.

That was Geoff’s “Golden Boy” and from what Matt spoke of him? The dude was like anyone’s true worst nightmare. Fast fingers and an even faster mind. Sharp as hell and cold as ice.

The Golden Boy had access to just about any document that had ever touched the internet, and from there it didn’t take him much to connect the dots.

But from what Ryan spoke about him? He was just as young as Jeremy, and with enough ego to fill up two whole other people. Ryan said that he’d never stop asking dumb quesitons, and only ever left his “nest” when Jack forced him to eat with everyone else on occasion.

Jeremy was conflicted.

Matt spoke like he was a brilliant mastermind. (Annoying as hell to deal with, but an incredibly smart hacker). Ryan spoke like he was Geoff’s kid that Geoff was just trying to put to use somewhere he wouldn’t break anything.

In all fairness though, Jeremy didn’t believe either of them. Not until he had met this “Golden Boy” for himself at least.

So when he wasn’t busy he’d wait outside the computer room. Matt would slip out first and assume Jeremy was waiting for him. And well, Jeremy was just too polite to admit to his friend that he was actually waiting to try and meet the other guy. Never once did Matt leave after Golden Boy, never once did Jeremy get to meet him.

It went on for a month.

One whole month of Jeremy mulling over if it was really worth it to spend this much time trying to meet this “mysterious” crew member.

Eventually he was nearing the end of his patience, so he did what any sensible person would. He brought it up to Jack.

“I just don’t understand! I’ve met everyone except him, and no matter what I can’t seem to be in the same place as him at the same time!” Jeremy was gesturing wildly, his cowboy hat threatening to fall off as his hands flapped above his head.

“This is just how he is Jeremy, there’s no need to take it so,” She snickered slightly as attempted to mirror his flailing arms, “so to heart I guess.”

Jeremy just groaned, sliding down the kitchen counter. Jack just smiled and started to hum as she went back to cooking her lunch.

“I’d watch where you sit if I were you, this pot of boiling water seems dangerously close to your head.”

Jeremy didn’t need to be told twice. Vaguely hidden threats were how Jack worked at getting you out of her way. Vague threats that she’s actually followed through on more than one occasion. (He’d witnessed Michael trying to bug her for the keys to her car and she threatened to lock him in the walk in freezer. Michael didn’t believe her and about an hour later Jeremy and Ryan were breaking him out of said freezer like a human popsicle heist.)

A week later and he still hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the Golden Boy. In fact, it was to the point Jeremy was starting to think everyone was collectively pretending that he was real when instead this “Golden Boy” never existed in the first place.

Jeremy was sitting outside one of their warehouses with Ryan, keeping guard because according to Geoff, “Golden Boy” had picked up little tid-bits here and there that a rival crew might be making an attempt to break into their warehouse on the coast.

Jeremy let out a bored sigh and fell against Ryan. (It was a thing he did, leaning on Ryan like a child. Ryan didn’t mind, in fact he rather enjoyed it.)

“You’re thinking too hard again, I can hear the wheels groaning.” Ryan kept his gaze forward, eyes watching the bushes in the distance.

“It’s nothing” At this Ryan moved his shoulder, effectively moving Jeremy back into a standing position.

“I’ve spent enough time with you to know that isn’t how your brain works.”

“Ughhh, fine” Jeremy focussed on the same bushes as Ryan, noticing an odd shake to them. “It’s just, does the Golden Boy actually exist?”

Ryan laughed at this, his hand reaching for the gun at his hip. “Yeah unfortunately he does.” He drew the gun slowly out of its holster. “Why, still haven’t seen him yet?”

“No, I feel like you’re all just pulling some elaborate prank on me.” Jeremy pulled out his own gun as well, bringing it up slowly with Ryan’s.

“I think I have some pictures on my phone of him if you want me to-” Ryan quickly popped off two silence shots into the bushes while Jeremy did the same. “-show you.”

The two of them watched as two bodies fell out of the bush they shot at. A third body went sprinting off into the distance. Jeremy smirked, that one guy would tell his crew that the Fakes had found out their plans and had killed the other two guys who were staking out the place.

“Yeah, sure why not. My curiosity is killing me.” Jeremy clicked the safety back on his gun and slid it back into the holster on his thigh, Ryan mirrored him, sliding his back into the holster at his hip.

Ryan pulled his phone out of his back pocket and tapped on it, navigating to his gallery where Jeremy caught a glimpse of several candid shots of Michael. He decided that whatever was going on between those two, he definitely didn’t need to know.

“Here’s the smug prick decked out before he went off to a negotiation with Geoff,” Ryan turned his phone so Jeremy could see.

The Golden Boy was tall and slim, but he pulled it off. The way he was stretched out over the heist table highlighted the leanness in his figure. Jeremy realized now why he was called “Golden Boy”, everything about him just oozed money and ego. His hair was bleach blonde, the gold shades sparkled, the jewelry was a little much, but the nail polish was Jeremy’s favorite piece. In the picture he had his nails painted with gold and black, each nail alternating in color, reminding Jeremy of the woman from the movie Holes that painted her nails with rattlesnake venom.

Something about him just captivated Jeremy, just pulled him in and he couldn’t stop staring.

Ryan had noticed, and when Jeremy finally got ahold of himself, he swiftly gave Ryan a kick to his shins to wipe the shit-eating smirk off his face.

“He looks like rich asshole.” Jeremy lied.

“He kind of is, but in that annoying sibling way that makes you wish daddy stopped giving him an allowance each week.” Ryan turned his phone off and slipped it back into his pocket, giving Jeremy a chance to end the conversation.

“So… Guess we can head back to the penthouse?” He didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, so he settled on just putting them in his pockets.

“Yeah, let Geoff know the good news. Maybe celebrate a little bit.”

Jeremy nodded. Getting absolutely shit-faced sounded like the best option right now.

[youremypride]

Apocalypse (M)

➤ jimin has always been there for you when you need him. he’s your one and only love. but when he died, a part of you died with him. true to his words, he’ll be there for you - even if it means coming back from beyond the grave.

↳ character: jimin x reader

↳ genre: smut, angst, zombie! au

↳ warnings: hints of romanticised suicide, ocd (mainly over a dead person), unphysical sex

↳ word count: 4138 words

↳ a/n: i feel that this kind of romance are rather odd, strange and peculiar and i enjoy listening to haunting slowcore songs so i recommend you to listen to cigarettes after sex - apocalypse when you’re reading this.

Everything felt like shit. Nothing’s the same anymore or how it used to be. You couldn’t do anything right at all. Whatever you did reminds you of him – everything that you did together at every moment you were with each other.

Jimin’s death took a toll on you, psychically and mentally. You didn’t enjoy reading books anymore because most of them were gifted by him, you couldn’t watch a movie anymore without thinking of the coldness that shrouded you because there was no one to cuddle with, and you pushed everyone away because all you wanted was Jimin.

You wanted him, his touch, his hugs, his kiss, all of him.

It was starting to worry your brothers seeing their baby sister in mourning for her lost love. “Y/N, you need to eat. Please, sweetheart. You look pale. You need some energy in your body or else you’re gonna shut down.” Seokjin coos softly at you – trying his best to make you eat even if it means having to spoon feed you himself.

He had been successful – his homemade porridge did the trick and it relieve spread through his body when you took a bite from him. He smiles as he sees you chew the food and swallowing it down. It was the first time that you finally ate something today. Seokjin realised it now that mentioning Jimin’s name was forbidden around you. He had learnt it the hard way.

When his younger brother, Namjoon had spoken out his name by accident, you frantically search for him – calling out his name and running out of the house without warning.

As fast as your legs could bring you, you ran towards his house and unlocked the door with they spare key Jimin had gave you. Jimin’s brothers weren’t faze to see you in their house again – your hair was dishevelled and beads of sweat formed on your forehead.

They wondered why you were here until you started running up the stairs and calling out Jimin’s name. When you reached his room, Jimin wasn’t there and anxiety build up inside you when you couldn’t find him. You check the bathrooms, the other bedrooms, everywhere hopefully finding Jimin there.

Jimin’s brothers watched in sympathy – too afraid to tell you the truth that Jimin wasn’t here. You noticed them staring at you near the stairs and you walked up towards them, “Oppa, have you seen Jimin? Did he go outside? Did he tell you where he went? I found his phone on his table, he must’ve left it by accident. Tell me where Jimin is, oppa.” You begged.

“He’s not here, Y/N.” Hoseok spoke softly. “He’s gone.”

“Gone where? Is he at work? He must be at work then; I should go look for him there.” Before you could step down the stairs, Jungkook blocked your way with his arms, tugging your wrist back. “He’s not at work, noona. He’s not here anymore.” His voice sounded cold and monotone and his dark bangs had curtained over his eyes yet you could see the piercing glare he was giving you.

A confused expression painted your face. Your brows creased trying to wonder what he meant. “What do you mean Jimin’s not here anymore? Look at the time, Jimin should be at work at this hour.”

“He’s dead.” Yoongi says flatly.

Your breath hitched at his answer. “No, you’re joking. Stop playing games, oppa. That wasn’t very nice. Now, tell me the truth. Where is Jimin?”

“Hyung’s not lying, noona. He’s telling the truth. Jimin hyung’s dead and it’s been a month since his death.” Jungkook barks, his voice now stern and he sounded upset.

“Y/N! There you are!” A voice calls you out from downstairs. “Oppa!” You rushed to him as he envelops you into a tight hug. Taehyung cradles you in his arms before pulling away. “Y/N, why are you here? Seokjin hyung told me you ran away. Don’t do this again, do you here me?” He forces you to look into his eyes. “Now come, let’s go home. Namjoon hyung’s been worried sick.” He takes your hand in his and leads you out of the front door.

“No!” You yanked your hands away. “I need to find Jimin. I want to see Jimin. I want Jimin!” You yelled. “Where is he? Tell me where he is!”

“He’s not here, Y/N. He’s in a better place now. Come, let’s go. You need some rest.” He tugs you again. You pushed him away, growing frustrated with the situation. “Stop lying! Stop lying to me! Why is everyone lying?! Jimin’s not dead. He’s just gone out; he’ll be back home soon. He must’ve have stayed overtime at work.”

“No, Y/N. Jimin’s not at work. You can’t see Jimin anymore. Jimin is no longer with us. Jimin hasn’t been with us at all. Stop this, please. Look at you, let’s get you home right now.”

“NO! I want to see Jimin! I want Jimin! I want Jimin! I want Jimin!” You yelled. A hot stinging pain burned on your cheek and you swore it felt like your skin almost teared. Jimin’s brothers had joined downstairs and were shocked that Taehyung had slapped you. Taehyung was not a violent person nor did he ever lay his hand on you before.

“Stop this, Y/N. Stop this childish nonsense this instant. I’ve had enough with your nonsense and so does the hyungs. Look at what you’re doing to yourself right now. You wanna know where Jimin is? He’s at the cemetery – buried six feet under in a casket. That’s where he is.

You still don’t believe me? Well, Y/N. Why don’t you try remembering why Jimin’s dead in the first place? If you hadn’t been so adamant about Jimin coming over that night, if you weren’t so selfish and let him take the night off instead, he wouldn’t have died at all. It was all because of you – you’re the reason why he’s dead in the first place and you have the audacity to be this ignorant?!” He spites at you.

“Taehyung, that’s enough. That’s your sister.” Yoongi warns. Hoseok helps you up from the cold floor while Yoongi pulls Taehyung away from you at a safe distance.

“Y/N.” Your brothers Seokjin and Namjoon appeared near the front door. “Y/N, let’s go. Namjoon take Taehyung. It’s alright, Hoseok. I’ll take Y/N from here.” Your brother approaches you.

“You know, Y/N. If you really love Jimin, you wouldn’t be a mess right now. Jimin would’ve wanted you to move on from him and I know he would forgive you for what you did. Don’t do this to yourself, it’s not worth it.” Hoseok comforts you.

“And how do you know how Jimin would feel? If he wants me to move on? Who are you to speak on his behalf? You’re his brother, you’re not my boyfriend. And what do you know what’s good for me or not? You’ll never understand the way I feel about him nor do you of him about me.

If you think Jimin wanted me to move on, I call bullshit. Because he never said anything like that at all, not once. He promised me he’ll be the only love in my life and he’ll always be there for me no matter what, just like what I promised him too.” You glared at him before walking out the door and getting inside of Seokjin’s car that was parked outside.

Seokjin left you alone once he was satisfied you had finished your dinner. It’s been two days since the incident and now that you were painfully aware that Jimin was really gone, you locked yourself in your room – away from the world and seek solace in the intimate darkness and peaceful tranquillity.

From your window, the moon emitted a soft ghostly ray of light through your sheer curtains and shone onto the wall that was facing your bed. It was a wall filled with pictures of you and Jimin – some in kissing and hugging poses – letters he had wrote for you and knick-knacks you had collected together now displayed neatly on the shelves.

It frightened you yet comforted you at the same time – the pictures of Jimin showing you his cute eye smiles filled with love and endearment now seem ominous and haunting. You could feel as if all his eyes were staring at you but you waved it off that your mind was playing tricks on you.

You lay in bed and stared absentmindedly at the teddy bear Jimin had gave you on your first anniversary. It may look like an ordinary stuffed teddy bear but if you pressed the small heart shaped patch where its heart is, a voice will speak out from it.

Jimin had placed a voice box in it – filled with his own voices and each time you press it; he would speak a different sentence.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“You’ll always be beautiful to me, my angel.”

“I miss you so much, won’t you give me a hug?”

“Please smile a lot, my sweetheart.”

“I miss you a lot, do you miss me too?”

“Y/N, promise me we’ll always be together.”

“You’ll never leave me right, Y/N?”

And it loops back to the beginning. The teddy bear lingered the scent you loved the most too – Jimin’s perfume – which helped intoxicates you to sleep. You pulled out the locket that was under your shirt, opening it to reveal a picture of Jimin and you. It was taken a few days after you had started dating.

The locket was special to you because the locket was unique you see. It was shaped as one half of a heart. And the other half was with Jimin. When joint together, it formed a full shape of a heart. Both his and your brothers had teased how cringey it was but you didn’t mind them. After all, your relationship was made of only Jimin and you, not them.

“I’ll never leave you, Jimin.” You kissed it and clutched it in your palm as you drift off to sleep.

You shifted in your sleep as you felt light feathery fingertips carefully caressing the side of your face, delicate fingers combing through your hair as you hummed in delight at the warm feeling.

Slowly, you opened up your eyes – your vision hazy and the lack of light made it hard to make out the person in front of you. When your eyes had adjusted to the surrounding, you could feel goosebumps forming on your body as you locked eyes with the person lying beside you.

“Jimin?” You whispered.

“Yes baby, it’s me.” He smiles at you, showing off the eye smile that you had come to love and miss so much.

Tears formed in your eyes as you felt it being heavier and you tried so hard to not let out a sob. Alas, the waterworks started and Jimin pulls you into his arms and muffles your sobs in his chest. He soothes you by playing with your hair – something he did to comfort you when you’re feeling down or sad.

“You’re really here with me, right?” He nodded. “As real as you are, my love.” You reached out a hand and cups his face. He leans into your warmth as you felt the icy coldness of his cheeks.

“You’re so cold, Jimin.” You said. “And you’re so warm. I miss you so much, Y/N.”

You didn’t fail to notice the way his skin felt against your palm. His flesh wasn’t rotting nor did the colour of his skin had started to marble just like in the movies. Jimin chuckles at your reaction and strokes his thumb on your hand.

“It takes years for a body to rot, Y/N. I’ve only been dead for a month. My body’s still the same just like how it did when I was alive. Only there’s no blood flowing inside me. That’s why I’m so pale.” He joked.

“But, why are you here?”

“Because you needed me. I was so afraid of leaving you all alone when I promised not to leave your side.”

“But I caused it. I was the reason why you couldn’t keep your promise.”

He shook his head, “No, no Y/N. You were never the reason I died. That night, I was foolish enough to cut through the back road instead of taking the usual route. It was stupid, I know. I couldn’t wait to see you so I thought of taking the shortcut and usually there wasn’t any cars at that time of the night.

It was so dark and the street lights weren’t helpful at all. When I ran across the road, that’s when I got hit. I didn’t see any headlights coming towards me at all. That driver was the one at fault. He didn’t turn on his headlights. If he did, I wouldn’t have died and leave you behind.”

You finally knew the truth of Jimin’s death but it wasn’t enough to bring yourself closure. If it did, it means you accepted and come to terms with his death – meaning you would have to say goodbye and never see him again. That’s what you think. You didn’t want to say goodbye or in this case, you couldn’t say goodbye. Because goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting.

“I don’t wanna forget you, Jimin.”

“Then I’ll make you remember me, and only me.”

“I’m scared.”

“I’ll be with you the whole time, my love.”

He hovers on top of you and leans in – placing his lips against yours as he savours for the taste that he craved for so long. He moans and slips his tongue in your mouth, grazing against your soft wet muscle.

Jimin could feel how aroused you are when your nipples start to hardened and he could see it forming under the thin material of your nightgown. You busied your hands by entangling your fingers in his hair – tugging it when he bites down on your lips.

“Do you want me, Y/N?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Use your words, baby. Do you want me inside you?”

“Yes, Jimin. I want you inside me. I need you so badly inside me.”

He smirks and begins to creep his hand up your thigh – riding up the end of your nightgown along with it. When he reaches the band of your panties, he tugs it down and leaves it dangling at your ankle.

Now that your flower was in sight, Jimin stares at it like it was the most beautiful thing in the world. “I waited for this day for so long and now the time has come, my love. Look at you, your flower must have been crying for me. Look,” He shows you his fingers that were coated with your glands. “I think the flower is ready to be pollinated. Do you want to be pollinated, my dear flower?”

“Yes, my love. Please make me into a beautiful flower.”

“Then a beautiful flower shall you blossom.”

He aligns his cock near your slit, teasing it up and down with his tip. You whined and begged Jimin to enter inside you already. “Relax, darling. The bee has just arrived. The pollination process should be slow and delicate. They must be careful not to hurt the flower, my love.”

His cock enters you and you shifted at the uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling throbbing in between your legs. His cock was so cold it almost numbed you. You wanted to scream at the discomfort but you stop it by placing a hand against your mouth.

Jimin lets you adjust to his length before he starts rocking his hips, pulling his cock in and out of you. Seeing you furrowing your brows in pain, he helps you by easing the pain – massaging your breast and putting your focus in kissing him. Slowly, you began to enjoy the feeling as it washes over with pleasure and lust.

Your moans started getting loud and Jimin needed to remind you that you weren’t alone in the house. “Sweetheart, we wouldn’t want to wake up your brothers with your loud moaning. What will they think if they find their baby sister being fucked by her dead boyfriend? That’s a bit uncanny, don’t you think?”

“I’ll promise I’ll be quiet, if you let me suck your cock.”

“Such a brave girl. When did you learn to speak like that?”

“Namjoon oppa isn’t the best at being discreet about watching his porn. He always forgets to turn them off after watching it. Putting your laptop in sleep mode probably isn’t the best idea if you have a window filled with videos of downloaded porn open.” You giggled.

“And I wonder just how much you’ve learn from them.”

“As much as I can to please you. Can I cum now?”

“Already? Your flower must be really sensitive if it takes this quick for you to cum.”

“I can’t help it.”

Jimin increases his pace, watching your breasts jiggle like soft pudding. He could almost feel his high, closely reaching towards the climax. Without warning, your petals clenched his cock, squeezing it so hard that Jimin releases his pollens into you all in one shot.

Your entire body twitches as your flower bucked against Jimin’s cock, squirting out the leaking cum.

Jimin pulls you to sit up and guides your hands to grab hold of his cock. The cool feeling of a cock was unusual but since it was Jimin’s, you loved it regardless. If it were the summertime, you probably would’ve asked for it until your body cools down from the heat.

Since he had teased you before, you did the same by paying him back. You started by licking his tip in circular motions, cleaning up the cum until it was clean. You look up to see Jimin struggling – his cock twitching at every lick. It was fun to see him like this under your touch.

You move on by placing kisses – almost turning it into a make out session with his cock and when you were ready to take him on, you took him in all in one go with his tip reaching deeply near your throat. You forced yourself not to gag and in seconds you were sucking him like a popsicle on a hot day.

Jimin felt his knees buckling as you continue to blow him and when he couldn’t take it any longer, he begs to cum in your mouth. The moment he does, you moan – the vibration sending his cock to jerk inside your mouth. Using your teeth, you punctured your teeth deep into his muscle, deep enough for him to release everything in your mouth.

Even his cum tasted cold – almost like milk. You swallowed every last drop and licked the remains off your mouth. He lays back down beside you, satisfied.

“Did I do a good job?”

“You sure did, baby.”

Jimin sees the morning rays peeking slowly from the window – signalling that it was time to leave. He shifts his gaze towards the door and you knew what it meant.

“You have to leave, don’t you?”

“Yes. I was only allowed to see you one last time. To say my goodbyes to you.”

“But does it have to be that way?”

“Y/N, wake up. It’s time to eat.” Taehyung knocks on your door. When he didn’t get a reply, he assumed you were still sleeping. He tried opening your door this time – usually it being locked so that no one could disturb you. He was surprised when it wasn’t locked and stepped into your empty room. Thinking you were already up, he goes downstairs.

“Hyung, she’s not in her room.” Taehyung tells Seokjin who was busy preparing breakfast for the family.

“Weird, she doesn’t come out of her room this early, or at all.” Namjoon replies as he bites into a piece of his pancakes. “What?” Seokjin startles them when he heard the news. He places the spatula down and digs into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

As much as he hates doing this to you, your brothers agreed to use your phone as a tracker – a safety measurement just in case you run away again. He follows it and found that you left your phone on your bedside table.

“Where could she be right now?!” Seokjin runs a hand through his hair, clearly growing exasperated. “Is she at their house?”

Namjoon shook his head. “Hoseok hasn’t text me yet so I don’t think she’s there.”

Seokjin sighed, “I’ll check the basement. Namjoon, check the attic. Taehyung, search her room. See if you can find something to know where she is.”

As his brothers left the room, he takes your phone – easily entering it since it didn’t have a password. Finding nothing useful, he searches your desk – skimming through bits of papers to see if there’s anything that would help. He reads off the small notes stuck on your corkboard and uneasiness filled his pit when he finished it.

They were all romantic poems written neatly in Jimin’s handwriting that he took notice of. Even the pile of letters you had kept neatly in the corner was filled with sweet words that Taehyung might had cringed over.

He walks over to your bed and sits down, grabbing the teddy bear – scanning it. He presses the heart shaped button and listens to the voice that played. He tensed up after hearing them and felt squeamish about it.

Taehyung doesn’t think much of it and flips your pillow over to find your diary and a picture of Jimin pasted neatly in the centre of the cover. He feels guilty about intruding your privacy but your safety and well-being was top priority.

Blood left his face and his tanned skin turned pale. His body grew stiff, almost paralysing him. He shouted for his brothers as loud as he could to hear him.

“What? What, Taehyung? Did you find anything?” Seokjin rushed towards him, waiting for his answer.

“I know where she is.”

“You must be joking, Taehyung. Tell me this is a joke.” Seokjin says. Taehyung’s face was solemn, absent of any emotions. “It’s not.”

“How can she end up there? It’s impossible, Taehyung.”

“I agree with hyung. Something doesn’t feel right. It’s completely outrageous.”

“Just...just trust me on this.” Taehyung pleaded.

Jimin’s brothers were just as confused as his brothers did. They wondered why they were called up early in the morning with Taehyung asking them for permission to dig out Jimin’s casket from his grave.

The crane gently lifts the casket out from the hole and places it on the ground. The boys stood in front of it, with Taehyung being in the very front. He could feel his heart pounding hardly against his ribs almost ready to combust in pieces. His hands were shaky as it reaches the lid of the casket. Cold sweat drips down his head as he slowly opens up the casket.

The sight had completely left them perplexed.

“No!” Seokjin cried out, his hands covering his mouth and his knees buckled down to the ground. “No!” His wailing echoed through the silent cemetery. Namjoon kneels down, trying his best to console his older brother who was weeping in agony.

“Oh my god. I think I’m gonna be sick.” Hoseok walks away from the sight feeling nauseated and starts to vomit out near a tree. Jungkook was stunned, never expecting you to pull such a stunt like this.

Right inside the casket, laid Jimin’s body – his hands wrapped around your frame, holding you tight inside his arms. You fitted perfectly like a puzzle against him and the two of you look so peaceful and serene lying next to each other like that. Your soft pink cheeks had faded to a light blue tint – meaning you had died due to the lack of oxygen.

If it were a different situation, Taehyung would have thought you look cute cuddling with Jimin but all emotions left him feeling heartbroken that he wasn’t able to stop you from doing this. You had changed into the little white dress Jimin had bought for you – a perfect dress for a perfect angel. A shiny twinkle between your bodies caught his attention.

He leaned in closer to see that your matching lockets were in tact together, completing the missing piece of each other’s. He gently strokes your hair, revealing your pretty face. Tucking them behind your ears just like how Jimin used to. He plasters a soft yet heavy smile – knowing that you’re truly gone and maybe with Jimin on the other side.

“Sweet dreams, my angel. You finally got what you wanted.”

Is it love? Taehyung pondered over the question everyday until he finally got an answer. It is definitely love.

[lamentsof-bee]

you can take scissors to pure canon IF YOU’RE NOT A COWARD

listen, this is how little women truly should have ended. and i’m not saying i ship it (but i am clearly saying i ship it). 

y'all. i am 100% for the feminist notion of jo not needing anyone, esp not a man in her life and that she loves her books and her liberty more than anything. believe me, i am. but saorise ronan and timothy chala-whatevs played it too well. i got too invested. and no one can tell me jo wasn't destined to meet her teddy and find out that liberty and love do not need to be mutually exclusive.

this is shameless self indulgence, but you can read it if you want lmao

Summary: She shouldn't have left. She shouldn't have turned him down. But she did. 

Jo March turned down her Teddy and then it all happened so quickly. She lost her love, her Beth and her drive all in one.

But what if she didn't? What if Laurie and Amy made a mistake and Jo hadn't thrown out her letter?

What if two souls truly are too entwined to ever find peace with anyone but each other?

The day of the funeral an eery silence is found in the March house. The house that was always filled with shouts, jubilee and cheer now stood quiet and sombre against a backdrop of white. The piano music that had once drifted along the rooms is quiet, not to be heard for a long, long time.

Jo stood at Beth’s grave. Her dear Beth, her loveliest sister, her other half. And the sorrow was incomprehensive. It crashed in waves so strong Jo did not feel as Mr Brooke pulled Meg away, sheltering her sister. She did not feel Marmee and Father too move to the side. All she could do was stare straight out, above the gravestone and beg that Beth should arise again.

‘Please,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘Please!’

She called upon the Lord’s name, maybe she took it in vain, but she begged for her sister’s return. She begged any almighty above to grant her this one wish and in return she would give herself. Sacrifice was nothing to her, if her Beth could live on.

‘Please…’ her cries grew quieter and she sank to her knees. Tears stained her cheeks and for the second time in her life, Jo March asked herself if this is how broken she is.

Is she really so broken that she should ask an almighty presence, one she doesn’t even believe in mind you, to turn back the clock.

The answer is yes.

She would have given everything she had, everything she knew and everything she felt if it meant she could change this cold winter day.

She had asked Beth to fight, to be loud, but she didn’t feel much like fighting herself anymore.

It’s unclear how long she stands there. Waiting for something to change. Maybe waiting for God to take her too.

But eventually she finds her way back to the attic. Beth’s sheets of music lay gently in her hands, the dolls that once were hers already packed into a box, letters from Mr Laurence stacked neatly on the side.

They remind Jo of the letters she wrote to Teddy. The fact that they are still unanswered stings.

Her thoughts are tumultuous and suddenly, where there was only empty space and the loss of a love, suddenly there is a whirlwind of thought.

Marmee asked her if she loved Laurie and her answer… it had been true…

Her desire to be loved, to be cared for. It was all she ever wanted. To find someone who could look at her, truly look and her and see her, and not look away in disgust. She knew she was not beautiful like Meg, regal like Amy or kind like Beth. She knew she did not fit into the society she was accustomed to. And although she often made a mockery of the rigid structures of their Victorian life, she too longed to be seen. And heard … and loved.

She meant it. ‘Women have minds and souls,’ it had burst out of her ‘as well as hearts. Ambition and talent as well as beauty.’ Her sisters came to mind. ‘And I’m sick of being told that love is all a woman is fit for… But I’m…’ she faltered. Her hands trembled as well as her voice but Marmee looked at her with gentle understanding. As if coaxing a cub into the sunlight. ‘But I’m so lonely.’

In that moment, the façade Jo March had created shattered. The candle with dreams, desires and endless amounts of passion had burned out.

Marmee stared at her for a long moment, her hands wrung in her lap before she finally said ‘You can be lonely and still love him.’

‘I don’t think I know what love is.’

‘Of course you do.’ Ever present was her patience. ‘Look at you, you are suffering because of a love well lost. We all are.’

Losing her Beth, it should have rendered everything else unimportant but it had done the exact opposite. It had made Teddy’s absence feel stronger. As if her hand had been cut off and she knew not how to act without it. No, she knew not how to write without it.

Marmee left her with a soft shoulder squeeze and the look of a mother in mourning but she still pressed her lips together in a comforting smile that seemed to say You will find your way child.

                                                          -

The attic had always been Jo’s but with Beth’s absence, Jo hardly allowed herself to move from it. After a long night of staring at the ceiling behind a shimmer of tears, losing count of the days she had spent curled up, she finally took pen to paper.

My dear Teddy,

I miss you more than I can express.

I used to think the worst fate was to be a wife. I was young and stupid. Now I have changed. The worst fate is to live my life without you in it. I was wrong to turn you down and to run away to New York when in actuality I should have run away with you. To New York, to a pirate ship, to anywhere.

If all were lost in the world… and it truly does seem that way these days, I only hope I could be reunited with you one last time. To see the smile I have sorely missed and the heart I feel akin to.

I’m still not kind like Beth. But maybe you’ll still have me anyway.

Forever yours,

Jo March

She walked to the letterbox in the forest. It was a slow walk, one of trepidation. She had written the letter already, there was no going back now. So she placed it in the small wooden box, locked it with the golden key and turned. Surely, he would check it, wouldn’t he? He was still Teddy after all.

                                                          -

Amy’s return from Paris brought with it sick Aunt March and a feeling of doubt in the pit of Jo’s stomach. She wished she had missed her sister’s arrival. She could have dozed off in the attic, sleep always seemed to come more easily while the sun was up these days. She wasn’t though, she was in the kitchen with Marmee. Waxing over what to have for dinner as if any of it mattered anymore. All her food tasted like uncertainty.

Amy entered garbed in black. She opened the door with her arms slightly wide as if she expected something to happen. But the house was still. There was no music, no laughter. Tears filled her eyes as she made her way to the kitchen. She hugged Marmee tightly whispering apologies I should have been there, it was horrid of me. I should have known something was wrong. Marmee, who had amazingly found her inner strength again so soon after such a terrible loss, looked bravely at her now youngest daughter and shook her head. ‘It was not what she wanted.’

Jo watched her mother with revered curiosity. Perhaps Marmee’s steel strong disposition had been awakened again with her daughter’s cry. One day, Jo thought to herself, I shall be like Marmee. Patient, yet unyielding to the world.

Amy sat at their tiny kitchen table, her black gown entirely too big and fancy for their dreary common house. Her lips began to move and she told them of Rome and then Paris. The stories seemed to spill out of her, unstoppable. Aunt March had fallen sick several weeks ago and her recovery, although promising at the time, had been halted by her immediate desire to return to home soil. The doctors had warned her against traveling so soon while the sickness was still taking its course but ever stubborn, Aunt March refused. Now being nursed by her staff in her manor, Aunt March is bedridden and traveling had taken a toll on even her angry spirit.

As Amy mentioned Laurie’s name, the breath hitched in Jo’s chest. She willed herself to breathe normally and slowly started counting her inhalations. She felt she was in something of a trance. Amy waxed on about fights with Laurie, about not wanting to be second best to Jo (at which Jo could only look into an empty corner) but still loving him because it’s Laurie.

Jo’s heart rate quickened when Amy spoke of a kiss and she knew she wouldn’t last much longer. How was anyone ever meant to navigate this foggy world of feelings if others were constantly adding to the fog with their words? She smiled humourlessly to herself and thought Such is usually the occupation of a writer. The conversation continues and Jo seems to be the only one missing the subtext and sadness in her sister’s eyes.

‘I thought perhaps someday I would be able to call him My Lord – .’

Amy’s sentence fades out. There is a beat, no one says anything. There is a pang, one that strikes Jo directly in her heart.

Amy looks at Jo with worry, knowing her wish will never come true. Without being fully aware of what she is doing, Jo rises, wiping her hands on her dress. ‘I should call on Aunt March.’ She wills herself to make a joke to cut through the tension. She almost does. Someone has got to make sure she hasn’t beat the bush. It’s on the tip of her tongue. Yet, she holds it. It’s still too soon. Too soon after Beth’s passing. Death doesn’t seem like a joke to her anymore. It seems like a thief. And thieves are not to be joked about.

                                                         -

Seeing Aunt March in bed, her duvet perfectly folded and a duck feather pillow behind her head, leaves Jo with a feeling of melancholy. As if she suddenly realized that even the strongest, most resilient women must give way to the tides of time.

‘I have come to read to you, Aunt March.’ Jo says quietly from the door, a faint smile on her lips.

Aunt March only gives a short nod in return after which her eyes wander back to the big window looking out onto the grounds. Jo reads to Aunt March for a while but it becomes clear that her aunt is not listening. Her glassy eyes stare out at the garden with unmistakeable sadness.

‘Your Amy did a fine job in Europe,’ she mutters in a croaking voice.

Jo halts her reading and looks up, suddenly feeling chastised. ‘I knew she would.’

She looks down to continue her passage but Aunt March interrupts her.

‘She was made for high society.’ The old lady’s eyes stop on Jo judgementally. ‘Unlike some I know.’

‘I do not wish to become decoration to a place already filled with frills and flowers.’ Jo answered simply.

‘No, you do not.’ An honest statement. ‘Just like your father.’ Another. ‘Penniless and useless.’ Aunt March huffs, her eyes linger on the door. As if she were hoping someone else would walk through it. As if she were craving more company.

‘I do wish to read to you, Aunt March.’ Jo says, only then understanding the old woman’s loneliness.

‘It would have been better if that ghastly Laurence boy hadn’t given her false hope.’ The pain in Jo’s chest awakens again. Not knowing where to look Jo faces her passage again, waiting for her aunt to continue speaking. She does not.

Quietly, instead, Jo continues to read until Aunt March falls asleep, her breathing shallow but constant.

Darkness was already falling when she left the big manor. The rooms felt hollow and empty. Aunt March’s rigor and strength seemed to have been leeched from the walls. Tonight the skies are clear. Jo trudges through the town with familiarity. Here is the town she grew up in, a place she knew she wanted to escape but always felt too attached to withdraw completely. After all, here was her family. What remained of it. Yet now, with Beth gone and Teddy unresponsive, her little home felt more like a prison. A gilded cage full of forget-me-nots and memories too precious to forget but too precarious to dream about.

Out of habit she passes the Laurence estate looking to her right, swallowing the hard knot in her throat. She walks through the woods between their homes and only stops briefly to mourn the words she poured into her letter, the honesty and vulnerability she would have to reclaim. She couldn’t let him find the letter. Not if he intended to make a wife out of Amy.

Jo’s steely determination had her walking towards the little post box. She had always put her sisters’ lives before her own. She would not stop now simply because of her infatuation for a boy. Even if that boy was Teddy.

But there was a figure already standing by the tree. Tall and lanky, Jo would recognize him even in the darkest of nights. She hadn’t the courage to speak up, so she simply stopped in her tracks and watched. If all that she had created in her head, the life they could live and happiness they could have, was to fall apart, then she should be allowed at least one moment of heart fluttering before it happens. He sinks to the ground, his hand covering his mouth. She is unsure how he would even be able to read in this dusk but she is certain he has managed.

His shoulder falls against the tree trunk heavily and for a moment she thinks his eyes are filled with tears.

She dares not to speak. She thinks she may not be able to find words anyway. Instead, she hangs back and watches as he rubs his face and gives a sigh as if he were the loneliest man in the world.

They hover in silence for what feels like eternity. Jo isn’t even sure that he knows she is there and then, a sudden panic rushes over her. She can no longer watch him. A short but loud gasp for air has him looking in her direction and clambering to his feet quickly but Jo is already on her way. Her brain feels fuzzy as if her senses had reached out too far and tried to take in too much. She begins to run, though where she is not quite sure.

Unaware that the person she tried to leave behind is following her, she stops short when she is breathless and a little ways away from the grave. Of course, she thinks. I always find my way back to my compass.

‘Jo.’ His voice is quiet and husky as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time.

This time the tears well in her eyes.

She allows herself one inhale to steady her breaking heart (again, it’s breaking again) and turns with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘Welcome home, my boy.’ She says.

For a long moment they stand and merely look at each other.

‘I –‘ but she beats him to it.

‘I hear of your impending nuptials. Congratulations.’

‘No, you misunderstand.’

Unclear if she had heard him or not, she continues. ‘Amy was full of vigour when she spoke of Paris. It seems you left quite an impression on her young heart.’ She’s speaking to the ground now, unable to meet his eyes. ‘Though you have always had your ways with young, impressionable maids.’

‘I only ever cared for one.’

‘Amy will be happy to hear th - .’

‘I’m not marrying Amy!’ His voice is booming, her eyes look up with uncertainty.

‘Just for once, could you stop thinking you know everything and just listen?’ He begs.

‘Amy and I made a mistake. We were both wrought with grief and you weren’t there.’

She thinks he will begin a monologue but after a short silence instead he asks her a question. He takes a shaky breath.

‘Why didn’t you write to me about Beth?’

The knot is back. The one that sits in her throat and hinders her breathing.

Still, she can’t look him in the eyes. Her embarrassment is too great.

‘You hadn’t responded to any of my letters thus far. Writing to you about Beth seemed folly, like bait. I knew you would respond if I did but only out of loyalty to Beth, not out of loyalty…’ her voice breaks. ‘To me.’

‘I deserved to know.’

‘You found out through Amy - .’

‘I deserved to know from you.’  

Her eyes flash and she feels a lick of hot anger in her stomach.

‘Deserve? Now you suddenly deserve to know? As if all my unanswered letters filled with woes and apologies weren’t suffering enough?’ Her voice grows hard. ‘What good does knowing of my suffering bring you? She was not your sister!’

It was mean. The one habit she hadn’t yet outgrown – lashing out when she felt attacked. It came too easily. She sees on his face that he feels no joy in her sorrow. He feels broken and beaten by this loss as much as she does. He too had loved Beth.

His words are so quiet, she almost doesn’t hear them. The way his voice shakes undoes her.

‘I miss her.’

Tears run down her face.

‘I miss us.’ She answers, the presence of the gravestone heavy at her back. ‘All of us. When we were younger and didn’t have a care in the world.’

She takes a breath. ‘Beth was the best of us.’

‘She was.’ He agreed quietly.

‘We need to be better for her.’ She feels tired as she looks at him, as if this conversation had taken everything out of her. Suddenly, he realizes she is missing her fight. His Jo is lost in the sea of her mind and sorrow.

‘Do you regret turning me down?’

It had to come to this. She knew it had to come to this. But speaking of it was too soon. Her heart still ached and she felt so young and stupid and at the same time so marred by the world. She tried to answer in a way that Beth would.

‘No,’ she says finally. ‘Because I could not have loved you then. All I could do was crave love.’ She takes in his face and pity overtakes hers. She wasn’t explaining this right. ‘Please understand that I have always felt suffocated by the rigid structures of the world we were born into. And yet, I longed for affection and love because I just felt… I feel…’ she falters, the tears threaten to spill again. ‘I am so lonely. Teddy, I am still so lonely.’

She sees him wrestle with himself. He takes a half a step towards her on pure instinct alone but stops mid-stride unsure if he is doing the appropriate thing. She continues.

‘Women have hearts and souls and dreams, just like men do. I have a heart and soul and a dream. And I don’t want to give any of that up simply because society tells me it is not right. I don’t want to marry out of loyalty to my Bourgeois generation or because every other woman is inclined to do so.’

He is shaking his head and this time the pity is in his eyes. For he knows how she suffers under the threat of society and he knows she could be free with him. One tiny conformity could grant her all the freedom she desires.

The words continue to pour out of her.

‘I realize now that … that women … that people have all kinds of different dreams. Meg wished nothing more than to be married to poor Mr Brookes and that has made her truly happy. But I don’t think she found happiness in an impoverished home but in the comfort of someone who truly sees her.’

‘I see you.’ He quietly interrupts.

A beat.

‘I know.’ She says back in a tiny voice.

They are looking at each other.

‘If you could not love me then, could you love me now?’

She is unsure. She still does not know if she is fit for loving and deserves the same in kind but Beth would say that there is no person in this world undeserving of kindness.

‘I will never be a good wife to you.’ He needed to know. ‘I will always be awkward and strange and vicious.’

He is nodding because he knows it is true.

‘And I may never want children. I have too much to give to this world to burden myself with raising a child.’

Then I will raise it. Teddy thinks to himself. It’s as simple as that.

It has always been as simple as that.

‘My fingers will always be ink stained and I will never slow down for you and … and …’ She looks at him, trying to come up with more excuses for her heart to not take this leap again.

‘And I will love you anyway.’ He concludes. ‘I will watch you love your writing, and your sisters and your liberty and I will only hope that you spare me a little of that affection too.’

They don’t move. They stand opposite each other, staring.

‘I told you it was your way – to care for somebody and love them until you die. Could you not let it be me? For my the worst fate of my life is also if I should live it without you.’

There is a hope in his pleading eyes that was not there before.

She gathers all her courage and in a tiny voice she says:

‘I think I should like to try my best.’

A quietness entered her soul. A tranquility.

Some souls are too entwined that they may never find peace.

But thankfully, these two have.

[smileyoongle]

Idol BTS! Reaction To You Having A Terminal Illness Part 2

Hey there! I didn't think my terminal illness reaction was that good. Thank you so much. I'm pretty shocked that you actually wanna read more to it. So I hope you like it, anon!

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Kim Seokjin:

Jin sat at the very bench where he had found out about your illness. He still wasn't over you, he would never be. It had been a year since you passed away and this was a usual habit of his. He would come to this place and imagine as if you were sitting by him, listening to whatever he had to say. He closed his eyes and let the wind caress his face. "Hello, princess. I'm back, as always." He let out a chuckle at his own words. "I hope heaven's treating you well. If they aren't, then they better be careful. I'll be there soon, you know." He said, looking at the stars in the sky. Jin knew very well that soon meant a pretty long time, but he was willing to wait it out. "Oh, did I mention that they tried to set me up on a blind date again? Yeah, I don't understand why they wouldn't give up because there's no way someone else can be what you were to me." He mumbled, eyes gazing at the empty seat next to him. He remembered how you told him that he had to find someone. Someone who would love him as you did. But Jin knew that there was no one. There could never be. Suddenly, his phone rung, screen flashing jungkook's name. He shook his head and ignored the call. "I'll be back, princess. Take care. I love you." He smiled at the stars. Getting up from the bench, he went to his car, knowing that he'll be back and you'll listen to him. Like always.

Kim Namjoon:

Namjoon stood near the grey stone, your name engraved in it. It gave him great comfort in knowing that you were still here, beneath all the mud, resting in peace now. He kneeled beside your grave, placing the fresh orchids above all the other flowers. Everyone had gone home after the ceremony was over, leaving Namjoon to grieve in his own way. Your family had also left with heavy hearts, tears streaming down their faces on the loss of someone so dear to them. "I miss you, already," Namjoon whispered, clenching his eyes shut, trying not to cry. Not being able to hold it back, he let it all out. Taking off his glasses that you loved so much, he covered his face with his hands. The gentle wind ruffled his hair as if it were your fingers. He felt your presence, your head on his shoulder, your hand rubbing his back soothingly. "It'll be okay, Joon. I promise." Your sweet voice sounding like music to his ears. He slowly removed his hands from his face, revealing his red eyes and wet cheeks. You smiled at him before placing your lips on his forehead. Namjoon knew very well that this was only an illusion and he wanted it to last as long as possible. "I know it'll be okay, Y/N." He said, crying and holding your hand as you started to fade away. "I love you." He sniffled, watching as you left him. He stood up, taking slow steps backwards, eyes never leaving your grave. Turning around, he forced himself not to look back. "I'll be fine, Y/N. I promise." He muttered, taking in a deep breath and preparing to start a life without you.

Min Yoongi:

The computer screen emitted light strong enough to illuminate the dark studio. Yoongi had been writing songs for the upcoming album, barely getting any sleep. He decided to take a break and proceeded to save the track, closing the tab to reveal your face. It had been 4 years since you went to a better place but it didn't feel like it. Instead, it was as if you never left, as if you were constantly around him. Maybe it was because of a certain 12-year-old girl that had eyes like yours even though she was adopted. Yoongi sighed and closed his eyes, ready to take a nap. A few minutes later, he felt hands covering his eyes and a small giggle ringing through the studio. "You're back early," Yoongi mumbled, taking the smaller hands into his own. "Yup, I had a dream where mom told me to check on you so here I am and clearly she was right." Said your daughter, gazing around the darkroom before going to switch on the lights. Yoongi let out a groan before turning his chair around to see her sitting on the plush couch, fiddling with the hem of her school uniform. Yoongi frowned and went to sit beside her. "And what could be bothering my rockstar?" He asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The young girl hesitated before raising her head to see Yoongi's concerned face. "It's Mother's Day tomorrow." She let out the words and gazed down at the carpet. Yoongi felt a wave of sadness go through him when he saw the tears trailing down his daughter's cheek. "I miss her, dad." She mumbled, voice cracking before she broke down into sobs. Yoongi pulled her into a hug and tried to control the tears threatening to spill. "She doesn't have to be here to be with you, remember? She's watching us from up there and she would hate to see us like this. Do you want her to be sad?" He said, voice as gentle as a feather. The 12-year-old shook her head and wiped her tears. Even though you left, you definitely prepared them to live without you. It wasn't easy at first but life goes on and people move on too.

Jung Hoseok:

The children laughed and chased each other around, the sun shining brightly in the sky. Hoseok admired the scene in front of him, thinking about the possibilities of saving at least one of the kids from being consumed by the illness that took you away from him. He looked up at the sky and smiled. He had just made a generous donation to a cancer charity for children in your name. He didn't want anyone to ever go through the pain of losing someone in such a terrible way. He felt his coat being tugged at, making him snap out of his thoughts. He looked down to find a little girl, holding a little teddy bear in one hand. "Hello Mr, are you an angel?" She asked, looking up at him with big and hopeful eyes. He chuckled and kneeled down in front of her. "What makes you say that?" He asked, still smiling. "Ms Jo said that an angel had come to let us know that we'll be okay. I'm sorry though, you see it's our playtime so no one was inside." She explained making hoseok's heart fill with warmth. He looked down at his shoes before looking back at her. "I am not an angel, sweets. But I do have an angel who sent me here. She's watching us from up there." He said, pointing up at the sky as the girl looked up. She smiled and asked him what the angel's name was. "Y/N." He answered. The little girl nodded and handed him her teddy bear. "Will you please give her this and tell her I said thank you?" She asked, gazing at Hoseok with her innocent eyes. Hoseok looked away as his eyes started to water. It had barely been 6 months without you and he was still trying to cope with the pain. He blinked away the tears and accepted the bear, nodding with a tight-lipped smile. The girl grinned and hugged him, making Hoseok feel better. He hugged her back and let a tear slip down his cheek. Before pulling away, he quickly wiped the tear. Waving him goodbye, the little girl ran back to her friends and Hoseok walked away. Maybe life won't be so bad. Maybe, just maybe he'll be happy again.

Park Jimin:

Jimin leaned his elbows on the railing in the huge balcony of the penthouse he had rented. The sun was setting on the horizon, the sky a beautiful mix of colours. This vacation was absolutely necessary after everything that he had been through. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of peace and contentment. Slowly, he felt your hands wrapped around him from behind. Smiling, he leaned his head back, resting it on your head. "Hi." You mumbled, grinning from ear to ear. He chuckled and turned around, pulling you into his chest. "Did you take your medicines?" He asked, swaying from side to side with you in his arms. You nodded and closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat. A miracle recovery, the doctors had called it. You had survived even though everyone had already begun counting the number of days you had. "I'm happy." You stated and looked up to see Jimin's eyes. He smiled and leaned his forehead against yours. "Not more than me." He mumbled before kissing you. "I don't know what I would have done if-" you stopped him before he could complete that sentence by kissing him more deeply. Eventually, you both pulled away, gasping for breath. Jimin intertwined your fingers with his and kissed them one by one, letting his lips linger longer where the diamond ring adorned your finger. Now there was nothing that could take away the love you shared. "I can't wait to call you mine completely." He said, burying his face in your neck. You giggled and ran your hands through his hair. "And I can't wait to be yours completely." You replied, gazing at the sky which was now devoid of the sun.

Kim Taehyung:

Taehyung fluffed the pillows and arranged the blankets, making sure they were comfortable enough. The light from inside the truck streamed through the glass window lighting up the back of it. Taehyung grabbed his phone and checked the time. 2:00 AM. He smiled and looked at the sky. Finally, another item was checked off the bucket list that you both shared, witness a meteor shower together. "It's almost time," Taehyung announced, looking around once more to make sure everything was okay. He got off the back to help you climb up. You were still weak from all the treatments and medicines. Once he tucked you in, he got in beside you and held you close to him. "Are you cold?" He asked, brushing your hair off of your face. You shook your head and looked up at him. Suddenly, you saw bright lights from the corner of your eye making you turn your head. The rapid movement of the stars appearing and fading had you gasping in amazement. But Taehyung couldn't take his eyes off you. He had come so close to losing you. He was relieved that everything was okay now, you were okay and so was he. "I told you I'd complete the bucket list with you, didn't I?" He asked, taking your attention away from the stars. You smiled and kissed him. "I love you so much." You stated, closing your eyes and leaning on his chest. He grinned and kissed your head. "I love you more."

Jeon Jungkook:

Jungkook kicked a stone to the side as he walked beside his date for the evening. It was a blind date set up by his brother, an attempt to help him get over you. The date had thankfully come to an end and it was time to head home. Lana was a nice girl, warm and welcoming but she wasn't you. And Jungkook didn't want anyone who wasn't you. He turned to look at her when he heard her sigh. "So, who is she?" She asked, looking at the ground while continuing to walk. Jungkook almost tripped but composed himself. "What?" He looked at her with wide eyes. Lana chuckled and shook her head. "I've been on enough dates to know when someone is interested in me or someone else. So, tell me, who is that lucky girl?" She asked again, tucking her hair behind her ear. Jungkook bit his lip, guilty that he was caught. "She is no more. Died about 4 months ago." He answered. Lana stopped walking while Jungkook continued. "I'm sorry." She mumbled. Jungkook shook his head and gave her a small smile. He wasn't okay but he had to be. He promised you. Taking a glance at his watch, he cringed. It was almost midnight, he needed to hurry home. "Uh....look, I'm sorry that I probably ruined your hopes for this date but I really need to go now," Jungkook said in a rush. Lana smiled sympathetically and nodded. "I'll be here if you ever need anything." She waved her hand at him while he nodded and took off running. Opening the door to his house, he jogged to the kitchen and took out the cake that he had baked earlier in the day. Placing candles on it, he lit them up and took the cake to the living room where your photo hung on the wall above the fireplace. "Happy Birthday, my love." He whispered, blowing the candles and blinking away his tears. He missed you and he'll never stop missing you. He just needed to learn to live with this feeling and he hoped that someday he would.

Personally, I don't think this is good enough but hopefully it isn't that bad.

[nothingeverlost]

Fic: Mother’s Day (Storybrooke High verse)

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was missing class today.  I made you worry, didn’t I?”

A/N:  I missed writing these two.  Just a reminder that Belle is a high school student and Gold is her teacher and they are in a relationship.  Takes place shortly after Whiskey Soaked Fears so they’ve only been together for about 2 months.

_________________________

He didn’t worry when he didn’t see Belle for the first three periods of the day.  Sometimes she stopped by before school, but there were days when she was caught up with her friends and he was glad she spent time with them.  She wasn’t usually the first to class either, the English building where she had Lit before his class being across campus.  It wasn’t until her friends all settled in, an empty desk next to the Lucas girl, that he started worrying.

“Miss Blanchard, I hope your friend has a good excuse for not being here today.”  The bell signaling the start of class would ring any moment.  Belle was never late.

“She’s not in school today, sir.”  Mary Margaret glanced up from whatever she was doodling on her paper.  

“I hope whatever she has isn’t contagious.”  He tried to sound gruff when what he really was was worried.  He had spoken to Belle before bed and she’d sounded fine.

“She’ll be back on Monday.  I said I’d take her any homework.”  Ruby’s lips were pressed together, displeased about something.  There was no way to question her further without sounding like something more than an annoyed teacher.  He waited until they were working on their pop quiz before texting Belle.  She didn’t answer.

“Miss Lucas, if you have a moment?”  He pulled her aside after class, thankful for the excuse of the homework assignment.  “Please let Miss French know that the quiz can’t be made up without a doctor’s note.”

“She’s not sick.”  Ruby slipped the piece of paper into the folder she carried.  “It’s Mother’s Day on Sunday.”

Fuck.  He knew how hard it had been to lose her mother; he should have considered what this weekend would mean for her.

“Her dad…”  Ruby’s eyes narrowed. Apparently he and the Lucas girl felt the same regard for Moe French.  “It’s a really big weekend at the shop and her dad doesn’t handle it well.  They can’t afford to not get the flowers out so she’s there.  It would really suck if her grade took a hit because of one quiz, but she’s always doing extra work.  It won’t hurt her, will it?”

“Unlike some in class her grade won’t be swayed by a few points.”  He hid his knotted fist behind his back.  He still had a thousand doubts about being the right person for Belle, but he was there for her, damn it.  Ruby seemed content with his answer and left.  Gold looked down at his phone for a moment, contemplating calling her.  It was the start of his free period, giving him almost 2 hours before his first afternoon class.  He could easily make it to the flower shop and back in half an hour.  Forty-five if he stopped to get Belle something to eat.

“Belle?”  Burgers weren’t the healthiest of foods, but she loved them so he’d picked up two, a mix of onion rings and fries, and one large chocolate shake.  The bell above the door rang when he entered Game of Thorns, but the shop appeared empty.

“I’ll be with you in a moment.”  The bland polite voice told him she hadn’t heard his voice, which was confirmed when she came out of the backroom.  Her smile became more genuine, her eyes brightening.

“Nick.”  Her smile faded as quickly as it had come, sliding into a frown.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was missing class today.  I made you worry, didn’t I?”

“Your friend Ruby filled me in.  She was worried about your ogre of a teacher docking your grade for an unexcused absence.”  He always worried about her, but she would only feel bad if her told her that.  The worry had only intensified since their brief break up and the knowledge that someone had scared her.

“She doesn’t know the ogre is really a teddy bear.”  Apparently her father wasn’t in the shop at all, because she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

“The dragon happens to have a soft underbelly where one particular person is concerned,” he clarified before kissing her back, but not on the cheek.  “I have a reputation to protect.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, sweetheart.  Someone might catch onto how many strays you feed behind the house, though.  Or find you tutoring kids at the library.”  She tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.  “Your bark is far worse than your bite.”

“I’d be glad to show you biting, love.”  He set the food on the counter next to the register and traced her neck suggestively.  He had no trouble admitting to himself that he liked the idea of leaving a mark on her.  Making it clear to the world that she was his.  Mostly, though, he liked the way she blushed when he made the suggestion.

“It’s a good thing it’s lunch time if you’re that hungry.”  She disappeared into the back and came out with a second chair.  He tried not to think about other definitions of hunger, especially as they related to her.  She had flowers tangled in her hair and he was reminded of an illustration of Persephone he’d seen once.  It wasn’t a stretch to recognize the Hades in himself.

“I was worried you wouldn’t stop for lunch.”  He sat across from her when she took the food out of the bag.  He had bought a burger for himself mostly because he knew she was more likely to stop and eat if he did too.  “No one else is here?”

“I have a sandwich in the cooler, and some iced tea.  Dad doesn’t handle this weekend very well.”

“How are you handling it?”  He had to bite his tongue to keep from saying that Moe French didn’t handle anything well. Not his daughter’s birthday, or the basics of paying bills or doing his own damn job.  And he certainly didn’t handle being a father.

“It’s better when I’m busy and not thinking about it too much.  I like knowing that the flowers are all going to moms this weekend, and that they’ll make people smile.  That’s my favorite part of the job.”  She took a bite of her burger, chewing it more carefully than was warranted.  “I always save enough flowers to take a bouquet to my mom after everyone comes to pick up their flowers.”

“Does your father go with you?”  As much as he disliked Moe French he hoped the answer was yes.  She didn’t need to stand at her mother’s grave alone on Mother’s Day.

“He tried a couple of years ago.  I thought maybe after some time had passed it would be easier.”  Belle picked up the top bun of her burger, piling on onion rings before returning the bun.  “People handle things differently.  I like talking to her.  Dad sees it as a reminder she’s gone.”

“May I go with you?”  For a flash of a moment he felt like he understood how Moe felt.  If it was Belle lying under a stone would he be able to handle seeing the finality of it all?  He pushed the thought away; it was too painful to imagine and it didn’t make his treatment of Belle acceptable.  “Only if you want company.  I could wait in the car if you prefer.”

“You don’t have to, I really am okay.”  She shrugged, taking a bite of a french fry.  Nick put down the hamburger that he’d mostly been ignoring.  He reached out and covered her hand with his own.

“I want to be there with you, Belle.  I want to listen to any story you want to tell me, and I want to take you home after and hold you.  May I?”  She’d spent enough Mother’s Days alone.  He’d be damned if he let her be alone when he was able to be with her.  When she walked around the counter and wrapped her arms around him he had his answer.

“Thank you Nick.”  He held her for a minute and didn’t care that someone could walk in the door at any moment.  Her cheek was damp with tears when she pulled away and he wiped them dry with the pads of his thumbs before gently nudging her away.

“Eat your lunch, love.  Your fries are getting cold.”

II

“How can I help?”  He showed up the next morning with two hot teas, bagels, and fruit salad.  Moe’s car was once again missing from the parking lot and Belle was alone.

“What are you doing here?”  Belle had her arms full of spools of ribbon.

“I have food, caffeine, and a pair of hands that should be reasonably capable of doing things.  I’m not promising magic and you probably shouldn’t leave any arrangements up to me but I’m sure there’s something I can do.”  He’d returned to the shop the night before and found her leaving a little after six.  He was glad she’d let him take her out for dinner but she’d insisted on going home to check on her dad.  His bed had felt particularly empty after he’d spent the afternoon thinking he might convince her to come home with him.  

Belle bit her lip, looking at him for a minute before speaking.  “It would save me a lot of time if you watched the front.  Almost everything is paid for already, it’s mostly just reading the cards and giving them to the right person.  But it’s your weekend, Nick.  Is this really what you want to be doing?  I can’t imagine this is your favorite thing.

“You’re my favorite thing.”  He pulled her closer, kissing her gently.  Customer service was right next to personal secretary for Regina on his list of favorite jobs, but he’d do it if it meant making Belle’s weekend easier.  “Show me your system, pet.”

It was seven hours of exhausting work in which he did his best to be nice to people and smile.  His face hurt.  His leg hurt.  He kept hoping someone would complain just so he could stop being so pleasant but finally the last bouquet was picked up and Belle turned the sign to ‘closed.’

“Please tell me you don’t have to work tomorrow.”  She looked exhausted; there hadn’t been time to even take a lunch break.  They’d eaten bites of the pizza he’d had delivered between customers.

“No, the shop is closed tomorrow.  And I promise I’ll be in class on Monday.”  She popped open the cash register and started counting down the drawer.  

“Good, because I happen to know that your bastard of a science teacher won’t accept any more excuses.”  He waited patiently until she finished counting, locking away the money and reaching to turn off the first light, before tugging her close.

“Come home with me tonight, love.  Please?”  There were dark smudges under her eyes.  If she came home with him he could at least make sure she slept.  He could talk her into a hot bath and make her something to eat.  And he could hold her for hours if he wanted.  

“I want to say yes, but…”  She stopped and shook her head.  For a few seconds all he could hear was the sound of her slow breathing.  “I can’t say no tonight, Nick.  I’m going to be selfish and say yes.”

“You don’t have a selfish bone in your body, Belle.”  He was relieved that he didn’t have to try and talk her into it.

The last thing Belle did was take the flowers meant for her mom out of the cooler.  She took them with her as she locked the door and followed him to the car.

II

Breakfast wasn’t anything complicated, just eggs and toast.  It took a frustrating amount of time to take it up the stairs, though, considering the mugs of tea and glasses of orange juice he didn’t want to spill, and the leg that was aching more than usual.  His Belle, who had been sound asleep when he’d gone down to the kitchen, was now wandering his room in a t-shirt that barely skimmed her thighs.  He was just in time to watch her bend over to inspect a book, and stayed as still as he could to watch her for a moment.

“It’s hard to serve you breakfast in bed when you’re not in bed.”  He carried the tray over to the bedside table, glad to see he hadn’t sloshed any tea over the edge of the mugs.

“Good morning sweetheart.”  Warm arms wrapped around his neck, her body pressed against his.  He was tempted to ignore breakfast for a little while, to just touch her and make her forget everything else except him, but the eggs would get cold.  For the moment his need to make sure she started the day with a good meal won out.

“You should have woken me, I could have helped.  You made dinner last night.  And ordered lunch, and brought me breakfast.”  She’d fallen asleep on the sofa the night before while he’d been cooking.  One minute she’d been explaining to him the difference between hard and soft water for cut flowers and the next she’d been curled up asleep.  He’d woken her when he touched the scratch marks on her arm; a combination of thorns and the wire in the ribbons she used, she told him later when he rubbed them with an antiseptic.

“You needed your sleep, love.”  She looked much better this morning, the dark circles gone and her eyes bright.  “Besides, as your boyfriend it’s my job to spoil you.”

“You’ve never said that before.”  The tea she’d been about to drink was forgotten as she stared at him.

“What, my plans to spoil you whenever possible?”  It was ridiculous but he already had a Christmas present on order.  He was also making summer holiday plans that were tentative until he knew if she could get away for a week or just a weekend.  

“Boyfriend.”

“It’s a strange word to apply to myself but there doesn’t seem to be any other.”  He didn’t remember the last time anyone had used the word regarding himself.  Certainly not Mal; their relationship wasn’t like that.  He was used to hearing the word used to describe sixteen-year-old boys.

“It sounds so…”

“Weird?” he offered.  The English language was lacking; he’d actually looked up other options but had found old fashioned nonsense like suitor, words like lover that only described one aspect of their relationship, or the word boyfriend.

“No.  Like if you’re dating someone then there’s the stuff you do by yourself and then there’s the times you see this person.  But if you’re boyfriend and girlfriend then everything is all tangled together and you’re a couple.  Like when you talk to Mary Margaret you know that she and David share everything and if she invites you to a party he’ll be there.  Like it’s real.”

“We are a couple, and this is very real.”  And in three weeks and four days it didn’t matter who knew it.  He could tell everyone that she was his girl.  She could tell anyone too; he knew that carrying the secret was hard.  “I love you Belle.”

She set her mug down next to a plate of eggs.  For a moment he was afraid that he’d said the wrong thing, gotten too serious, but then he found himself with a lap full of Belle.  “I love you too.”

“Breakfast,” he half heartedly protested when she tugged at the bottom of his shirt.  He’d slept only in pajama bottoms but had decided that it was better to cook without so much exposed skin.

“It will still be there after.”  Changing tacks Belle took off her own shirt, or rather the shirt he’d loaned her the night before.  He’d considered buying pajamas to keep for the nights he convinced her to stay, but he enjoyed looking at her in his own clothes better.  It was a bonus that they smelled like her.

“After,” he agreed, tossing his shirt on the floor as well.  

II

“Hey mom, there’s someone I want you to meet.”  The cemetery was relatively quiet as Belle followed a well remembered path.  Colette French was buried under a willow tree.  Nick took in the dates, the last one a little more than seven years ago.  Belle would have been eleven.  When she laid the flowers against the stone only the name was visible.  

“His name’s Nick, mom, and I love him.”  She held his hand and leaned against his shoulder.

An hour later, after half a dozen stories and a little weeding they left together in his car.  She had homework to catch up on, and used his desk, stopping to drink the tea he made her.   Afterwards they made dinner together, and took the time to watch a movie before he drove her home.

On Monday she stopped by his classroom before school, just to let him know that she was there.  She was smiling.

[thenightling]

My hopes for Steven Moffat’s Dracula

1.   I know he’s paying some homage to Hammer Horror by filming some of it where Hammer used to film their Dracula movies but Hammer also toned down Dracula’s powers for budgetary reasons.  Most of Hammer’s Dracula films (save for Brides of Dracula) did not allow the vampires to take animal form.   I am hoping that with the considerable budget allotted to the show through Netflix that they allow Dracula to have his traditional powers and weaknesses.

NBC’s Dracula was woefully disappointing partly because of the “nerfing” they had done to Dracula.   I want a version that can walk by day but is weaker during the day (like in the original Stoker novel), and can become mist, wolf, or bat during the night.

2.  If Dracula requires an invitation to enter a home.  Please, please, please have the sense that the requirement for an invitation is only in regard to homes, not places of business, public places, and the like.  Don’t do what “What we do in the Shadows” does in regard to invitations.  What we do in the Shadows is poking fun of vampire role players who often make the mistake of thinking the vampire needs an invitation to enter a tavern or other public establishment.  No.  The rule was only in regard to private dwellings.  For example a vampire can probably enter an apartment building but not an individual apartment / flat that someone resides in, without an invitation.   3.  I am perfectly fine with a female Doctor Van Helsing however please allow her to be like DOCTOR Van Helsing, an older professor type, not a sexy twenty-something in skin-tight leather, belly shirt, teddy / corset or other cliche trappings of the “hawt” vampire slayer.  Don’t try to make her Buffy.  Let her be older, wise, a Peter Cushing type.  Please.  We so rarely get that with female vampire hunters.

In fact it could be a great twist if Van Helsing or Jonathan Harker was the TV and movie trope reincarnation of Dracula’s lost love.   

4.  aesthetic preference:   Let Dracula have his sharp claw-like nails and slightly pointed ears.  It’s okay if he doesn’t but this is a preference of mine.  See Castlevania, or even Gary Oldman’s Dracula’s hands.

 5.  Do NOT let Dracula eat food or drink alcohol. Much like the vampires of What we do in the Shadows Dracula cannot abide food.  In the original novel the “I never drink... wine” was part of a three part line of dialogue. “I do not sup.”  “I never drink wine.”  and “I do not smoke.”  (Parodied in Love at first bite with “I do not smoke... sh--t.”) 6.  His soul. Dracula does have a soul. This isn’t Buffy.  In fact in the novel the heroes believed destroying his physical body, might allow him to ascend to Heaven.  They were even relieved by this implication apparently being confirmed by the look of peace on his face when they destroyed him.  (Yes, it’s indicated that Dracula actually went to Heaven in the novel.  Funny how Victorian readers were willing to accept that but modern audiences seem to go “No!  He needs to burn forever!”  God, we’ve become vindictive as a species...) 

7.   Dracula does have a heartbeat.  This is a petty detail but it annoyed me that the Gary Oldman Dracula does not have one.

8.   The novel Dracula never revealed how he became a vampire. It’s probably best if this is left unexplained or even a mystery to the character himself. 

 Fred Saberhagen’s Dracula book series handled this very well.  In the sixth book of Fred Saberhagen’s Dracula book series he had Dracula describe his original assassination (as Vladislaus Drakulya, later known as Vlad the Impaler)  and how loyalists retrieved his severed head and body and let the Turks claim the head of another man to present to the Sultan.   They prepared him for burial and the candles kept going out, and the head seemed to start to re-attach to his neck. They buried him and he rose from his grave as a vampire.

This made his revival as a vampire all the more mysterious as the vampires in Fred Saberhagen’s books were usually created via a blood exchange between vampire and would-be vampire.

9.  Don’t try to be edgy with a “creative twist” in pretending he was not Vlad the Impaler because “that was added at the last minute” or “There are historical inaccuracies in the novel.”  Of course there are historical inaccuracies!   Most people didn’t know the name in England of 1897.   But in the fictional universe of the novel that IS who he is. 

“He must indeed be the voivode Dracula who won his name against the Turk” - Said by Abraham Van Helsing in the novel.  

Just be respectful.  Let him have lived his life as the rather violent Romanian hero and have the vampirism be posthumous.   (Born 1431, became a vampire 1476 or so).

Also please, please do NOT claim he is Judas or any other Biblical figure.  That’s not clever, it’s just stupid.  Whether you’re claiming he’s Judas, or Abel or “Lucifer’s brother” (I’m looking at you, Penny Dreadful) please stop. 

9 Part B:  For if you use the Vlad the Impaler backstory.  Though I love Castlevania there is one detail that bugs me.  Țepeș,is NOT a surname.  That was a name given posthumously by his enemies.  It’s just Romanian for Impaler.  He signed his name Vladislaus Drakulya. He chose Dracula as his surname because of his and his father’s membership to the Order of the Dragon.  Dracula in modern Romanian might mean Devil but in the fifteenth century it meant son of the Dragon.   Dracul menat Dragon and Dracula meant Son of the Dragon.   So please don’t mistake the posthumous title as his surname.  He never signed his name with the Romanian world for impaler.  

 10.  Don’t mock the old tropes. The deconstruction done in the NBC show of 2014 was bad enough.  We don’t need another whiney “I have an American Southern accent for some reason” powerless Dracula downing scotch and shedding a single tear, while posing shirtless with a torch he shouldn’t need. 

11.  Further note.  I’m perfectly okay with a bisexual Dracula.  Considering other pop culture incarnations such as Marvel comics it does make sense.  I know Steven Moffat is easily tempted to feed shippers, tread carefully but don’t be afraid to tread.  

12.  If he cries at all, let the tears be blood and let him follow the old unspoken rule that if you make Dracula cry you’re pretty much screwed.   None of this stupid “But that’s from True Blood” or ‘That’s from The Vampire Chronicles.”  Dracula cried blood tears in pop culture it first. 13.   Let him be sympathetic if you like but also let him be powerful and predatory.

Please, Steven, don’t screw this up.   The NBC Dracula series dimmed my obsession for nearly a year. Only re-reading the Fred Saberhagen Dracula books and the Netflix Castlevania series brought it back.

[frogsukehanamura]

spottedcharms replied to your post “Wrong blog for this, but I’m too lazy to log over. Teddie talk ahoy!...”

I STILL don’t regret that day where I scared the living crap out of you by being an hyperactive child in your PMs

Younger me had no idea what was going on. Here you are, showing up to my not set up blog, wanting to know more...

YOU WERE LIKE “I went through your personal, somehow managed to find all the drabbles you’ve written for this AU, and I need more content.”

I was so spooked? No one was supposed to know about me other than Tara. I hadn’t realized how good the RP community was at sniffing out anyone’s blogs. All I was supposed to do was RP with them to build up their confidence and go on my merry way. That skype chat heard all my ramblings on the AU. Did anyone else really need to? Apparently so...

The worst part is that, in hindsight, Abnormalities is an awful AU to bring to RP format. It was really meant for writing. It’s all supposed to revolve around the emotional weight of everything, IT relationships with each other and Inaba, and self reflection. You guys never get to see the inner workings of the team. Souji kind of being a bad leader... Rise keeping tons of things together and trying to mediate EVERYTHING. Yosuke and Teddie talking late at night about how bad things have gotten and wondering how much longer he can put up with this. Yosuke admitting none of it was worth it. He saved no one. He’s no hero. Fuck his promise. But Teddie’s there, telling him...

“You saved me.” <- Teddie to Yosuke

It goes even further than that, of course. Chie being afraid of losing all of her friends. Bad taste jokes between Yosuke and Kanji. Naoto being too hardcore about Persona usage and everything. ...Yukiko’s pranks.

What I’m saying is... you helped me dig my grave here. Thank you, but I hate you.

Uh, that ramble went on longer than I thought it would. For those of you still reading, here’s some archaic commissions I got for the AU under cut? Some of these show their age (AKA, being the early designs of the characters), but... hey! Might as well look at the rest of its history.

(Both of these were done by Tara)

(This one was done by Chocotaur.)

[alannahaisling]

Hmm.

Found some old original writings. Wondering if I should continue them...? 

Granted this particular piece has memories of certain people attached to it. Mainly someone who was a great friend, who is no longer in the world of the living, but he did enjoy these writings. I think, I’ll post the first chapter here.

If it’s even remotely good, and people who do read this get invested, let me know?

That said, I’m tossing this into the void for eyes to see. Granted If you are interested I have other chapters, over on my old abandoned deviant art account, that I can grab and bring over too.

Title: The Rabbit Warrior.

Chapter one: The Bonded Soul.

It is probably well known and spoken about by those within the Order, that the Teddy Bears come to life when nobody is around, it is the same with the dolls we so cherish, but have you ever pondered about the other toys? Do they like the Bears and Dolls come to life when you're not there to see? Or do they sit idle and never move unless a human child or adult with the mind of a child moves them about? That is what this tale is about. This Tale is about one toy in particular, Kuma. Kuma was a pink long eared rabbit. With a red bow around his neck. His body was made of soft plush fabrics, and fluff, and beans within his legs and arms. He was a floppy bunny, but oh, he was loved. Loved and cherished, by a very small, short, and tiny little girl. Her hands were so tiny they barely could grasp or hold onto the arm of her beloved Rabbit Kuma, yet Kuma didn't mind. Kuma loved being dragged about, and hugged tightly, he didn't even mind when food stained his soft pink fur. It just meant that it was time for a bath, and a few hours to sit and dry in the sun. Kuma, loved this little girl, with her small round face with the ever changing expressions, curly mop of messy hair, and freckles across her nose. The pair were inseparable, and Kuma often enjoyed every hour spent with the little girl. Sad to say, that his days of happiness were about to end. It started with a cough, then a sniffle, then a very high fever. Hours upon hours, the little girl stayed in bed, with Kuma on the small bedside table, head flopping forward as if he were eternally frowning at her illness. It was in the middle of the night, of that fateful night, the door creaked open, and a small fuzzy hand curled around the edges of the door and slowly pushed it open. Kuma watched as the door opened, and the shadows of two bears loomed into the room aided by the lights in the hall. The two bears walked in quietly, and worked together to pile up blocks and boxes to get up onto the night stand, and then turned to look at Kuma. “I think it's about time you broke your vow of silence, Kuma” The older bear whispered as he leaned against his cane, and pulled off a top hat from his head. “You're the only  one left. There are no more from the Secret Order of the Warrior Rabbits.” Kuma, lifted his head, with all his strength and his coal black eyes shone in the light coming from the little girls window. “I've served my time already, leave me in peace.” Kuma said, as he turned his head now, to look at the very sick, and slumbering girl as her body shook with yet more coughs. “I dare not leave her side.” The younger of the bears, gave a thoughtful nod, and then gave the older bear a pat on his shoulder. “Let me speak to him, Denah.” “If you insist.” Denah said replacing his top hat, and moving off towards the window to look outside at the view, leaving the younger, light brown teddy bear in green vest to speak on the subject again. “I must apologize.” The younger bear said, “Denah is a bit frantic honestly. In his haste he hasn't explained the situation properly.” “Oh?” Kuma said, turning his head as his long ears swished and gave the younger of the bears his attention. “What news, Bear, do you bring?” The Bear nodded his furry head, and  pulled at his little round ears in much distress. “The children, Sir Kuma, are dying. I know we've had our differences in the past, yet this is something we must all address. The other Rabbits of the order from years long past have lost their souls, and are silent like husks! Having lost their children! The bears as well, are suffering loss and grief, as children die younger and younger.” This news gave Kuma reason to think, and to ponder. The little girl who had so loved him, and he loved in return, was gravely ill. Did this mean that she could possibly be dying? He lifted one of his paw like hands and placed it upon the spot where the soul connected to his child's soul rested. There was the small tell tale signs of a stress, a hurt that he had not noticed before because he was so worried about the little girl. “The children are dying?” Kuma Echoed and took a saddened breath. “This would explain the pain in my bonded soul. The girl is dying.” The Younger Teddy bear nodded his head gravely, and then sat next to Kuma, playing one of his own fuzzy paws on the Rabbits arm. “You're the last Rabbit Warrior. We need your help, to find the cause of this sickness that has struck the children, and made them so deathly ill.” “And if my soul is severed? What then?” Kuma demanded, turning his face to look at the Teddy Bear, “Unlike the Bears, we Rabbits don't keep the souls we earn after being named, and loved. Like a love bird we die with our beloved children.” The Bear took note and let the statement stand. “It is a great risk, but only the Warrior Rabbits were ever capable of such quests.” Kuma gave a hard, and very harsh bark of a laugh. “Ha! You Bears are forgetful! I have walked the front lines in the wars that took place under the beds of children for years and years, generation after generation. The only reason why I even live is because I was passed down from mother to daughter over the years, maintaining my name, and given a new lease of being a Rabbit warrior and Guardian to begin with. If it were not for that tradition, I'd be a husk like the others.” “That, is why we need you. You have the experience from the older days long past.” The bear pleaded. “We fear, that this illness.. This sickness, that threatens not only you, but the Dolls and Order of the Bears is caused, by our oldest enemy.” Kuma gave a pause, and lowered his head. “You mean the King of the Dark.” He whispered. “I have crossed blades with him a very long time ago, I cleaved across his right eye, in that battle. I know him well.” He paused and looked to the Bear. “So why do you think it is him?” The bear swallowed. “We overheard the Adult doctors. Rat's. Rat's are the carriers, and they said they hadn't seen this type of illness in several years. They are dumbfounded, as to how it resurfaced.” Kuma gave a nod of his head, and stood. “Well then, Bear.” Kuma said looking over the girl a paw over the secret soul he stored in his chest. “The only rat in this entire Orphanage, is indeed the King of the Dark. I however worry, that even if I slay the King, that it will be for naught. What if the human healers cannot save the remaining children?” The older bear, having returned to the pair, could only say one thing. “We can only hope, that the Illness ends with her, weather she survives or not.” “Indeed, Old Bear.” Kuma muttered as he lowered his head. 'I will know either way, if she or I are in peril.”