#the matchbox is also turned a different direction

[thefutureiswhat]

The Bible in Roy's chapel in 5x03 has a completely different cover to the one shown in the preview for next week's episode. The size and shape appear to be identical, and they're facing the same way, but the covers are clearly different.

Could this be like the changing pumpkin/skull Halloween decoration, as pointed out by @tdciago? Are we seeing different realities?

[kostixs]

The reaction of Sturniolo triplets to the fact that you are doing self-harm.

(All reactions will be with the backstory of how they found out about it).

TW: Mentioning self-harm, hurting yourself, crying, screaming.

If you are somehow affected by this topic, please do not read it.

If you are hurting yourself in this or other way, contact a specialist.

Why did you start doing this?:

You've always been that ray of sunshine in any company. I always tried to help everyone around me, forgetting about myself. About the fact that I have enough problems myself.

And people started using these services. They got rid of you and gave you into the hands of others, as if you were an unnecessary thing.

You couldn't stand it, you wanted to do something, but you couldn't, just because you didn't have the guts.

That's when the first cuts appeared, and with them the pain began to go away. Not for long, but it was getting better.

And now, there were red marks on your perfectly thin and pale arms, hidden by the sleeves of sweaters and black shirts. You weren't wearing those funny T-shirts you bought on Amazon anymore. There were no shorts that you wore to skate, showing everyone your broken knees and scratches covered with funny plasters.

Something has changed very dramatically in you, and what He couldn't understand...

Nick Sturniolo♡

At one of your gatherings in his room, you desperately covered your wrists with your sleeves, trying not to move your hands much.

Nick looked at you strangely from time to time, but he didn't say anything.

When you went into the kitchen to get a jar of Root beer, a small box fell out of the pocket of your jacket, similar to a matchbox, but it was transparent, and in it Nick saw something that he did not want at all. A razor blade. There were drops of blood on one of them.

The horror froze in his eyes as you entered the room.

Your gaze fell on the place where Nick is looking and you tense up.

- Y/n...- he turns his blue eyes full of pain on you and you feel guilty.

- Nick, I am...- he silences you with his hugs. Tears flow from your eyes, and for the first time you feel the pain of the scars and cuts you have left. 

- Y/n, why?- Sturniolo sits you down on the bed, wrapped in a blanket and, picking up the blades, ran to make you warm cocoa, which you drink when you can't calm down. He comes and soothingly put you on your head, listening to how tired you are. He doesn't say anything, just smiles kindly, squeezing your hand.

He will have a heart-to-heart talk with you, listen to you and give you a couple of tips.

Matt Sturniolo☆

You and the Triplets filmed another car video where you discussed the audience's pets.

You weren't very talkative, which made Matt very tense. You usually act like Chris, but you know the measure. Sitting in the back seat, right behind the seat of the youngest triplet, you looked thoughtfully at your sneakers (by the way, you were not visible, because Chris was sitting sideways, covering you, or Nick was just spreading his arms too wide).

You nervously pull at the sleeve of your sweater, biting your lip until it bleeds, and then twitch from the fact that Nick accidentally hit you on the cheek while he was ranting about dogs and cats.

- Y/N, DAMN IT, I'm SORRY-you shake your head in different directions, saying it's okay, it doesn't hurt me, and Matt has a huge doubt about your mental health. You've never lied to him. He knew that you had anxiety problems too, he knew that you couldn't say no to people if they had problems, and he knew that you forgot about yourself.

An hour later, the video was shot, Matt removes the camera from the panel, giving it to Nick. It was decided that you would stay at Sturniolo's today because Matt was tired and you lived at the end of the street, and also because they were worried about you (mostly Matt).

- Y/n, can we talk when we get there?Matthew asks as Nick and Chris get out of the car to buy food.

- Of course, what kind of questions, Matt?- you try to smile as happily as possible, but Sturniolo doesn't believe you.

After 20 minutes of Nick and Chris quarreling, you finally arrive home. Matt comes out, immediately grabbing your hand. The guys look at you in surprise, but the older one contorts his face with displeasure.

- And who will help us?- but Matt waves it off, saying "later."

He gently helps you up the stairs and then pulls you into his room, closing the door behind you.

- What's going on, Y/n?- his eyes are running over your face, trying to find and understand at least something.

-I don't understand what you're talking about, Matthew-your voice sounds low and Sturniolo is straining.

"Show me your hands," Matt says firmly. You quickly shake your head in denial, and pull the sweater over your hands harder-Y/n..Show me your fucking hands.

You're still silent, with your eyes closed. The guy can't stand it and, grabbing your wrist, he pushed the sleeve of the jacket up.

Shock and pain froze in his eyes. He lowers your hand, noticing that you are shaking.

- Y/n...why are you...- he doesn't know how to find the right words, and his anxiety is already hitting his head. He didn't keep up. He didn't come when you needed help. He didn't help when you first started doing this. He noticed it late.

What if you had died? And if he hadn't noticed at all how you were covering your hands, and then he would have blamed himself for your death.

- Matt, I am...- tears are streaming from your eyes, and the average triplet is hugging you to her chest. He would have cried himself if you hadn't spoken, but now he's comforting you, not you. His white T-shirt is getting wet from your tears, it doesn't matter now.

- You could have told me earlier...I would help you, Y/n-his hoarse voice echoes in your head and you look up at him.

- I didn't want to bother with my problems, I thought I could handle it on my own-it's hard to talk, and tears choke you. The guy strokes his back in a circular motion, hugging the girl to him.

He cried himself because he couldn't protect you from yourself. From now on, he will be more attentive to you, and will also be open to you crying on his shoulder.

Chris Sturniolo♧

You've always had an easy conversation with Chris. You always understood his humor, which he appreciated very much (because he is very strange, as you know). But at some point, everything changed...You stopped laughing so much. There was no longer that native sparkle in your eyes, and Chris was on guard.

When you shot the video "Blind, Deaf, Mute" where you were cooking some kind of pie, your eyes were tightly but neatly tied with one of his bandanas. You heard Nick screaming, which made your head hurt and you put your hands in your ears, covering them. The sleeves of the hoodie went up and Christopher's gaze caught on your wrists. He gently grabs your hand, trying not to cause much pain and quickly leaves the frame, aggressively tearing the bandage from his mouth. Nick shouts something, but the guy waves it away. He leads you into the room, removing the bandana from your eyes while you stare at him in disbelief.

- Chris? What happened, we actually shot a video-he looks at you sternly, pacing the room, until finally he moves the gaming chair to the bed.

- Sit down-that's all he says, pointing to a chair. You don't contradict, you just obediently sit down, still not understanding anything.

He lands on the bed, moving the chair with you, blocking access to any movement with his feet.

"What the hell are you doing with cuts on your hands?"Chris asks too sharply. You freeze, forgetting how to breathe. He saw something he shouldn't have.

- Chris, I am....- you don't know what to say. The words stuck in my throat like a lump.

- Why the fuck do I find out that you're hurting yourself? Is it so hard to talk to me about what's bothering you?"he's looking you in the eye, point-blank. Which you were extremely afraid of. Such dear and warm blue eyes froze like steel-Really, you don't trust your boyfriend so much that you thought cutting was the best option? I'm not that bad.

After that, you start crying, choking on tears, while Sturniolo taps you on the shoulder with one hand, and you no longer feel resentment in his gaze. He looks at you warmly again, stroking your wrists with his other hand, whispering something.

He will treat even those cuts that have healed for a long time, saying that you are terribly stupid for not telling him about your problems right away.

my first huge work (translated from Russian) if you see any flaw, please let me know

[minimomoe]

A New Religion

Pairing: Wolfwood x Fem Reader

Rating: 19+ MDNI

Song Inspo: Soweto by Victony, Rema

Summary: You're reunited with Wolfwood after all this time. You thought you were catching up with an old friend, but he tells you that you’re everything but that.

Word Ct: 4.1k

“Come onnn preacher man, you’re gonna let a woman like me walk all by herself?” 

“You came here by yourself, didn’t you?”

You pouted and batted your eyes. “What if something happened to me? Here in Mecca city with a man with a 300 million double dollar bounty on his head, don’t you think it’s a little unsafe for me?”

Wolfwood flicked his eyes down to you hanging off of his arm. Your hands were warm enough for him to feel it through the sleeves of his suit, and you weren't letting up your grip. He tried to look into your eyes to see if it was the beers that you had that were talking instead of your true self, but you only had one glass that you nursed the entire time he had been in the bar. His eyes followed the way you licked your lips and pulled them back to smile again. Wolfwood quickly looked away, but you didn’t want that so you cupped his face with one hand and plucked the bent cigarette out of his mouth to smoke. 

“I feel like priests shouldn’t be able to smoke,” you said after a long drag. “Ain’t it in the Bible somewhere?”

“God cares more about my heart than my lungs.”

“I’m sure your heart is struggling to keep pumping your dying lungs,” you said, and to Wolfwood’s surprise you placed your ear right on his naked chest. You pulled back to move your hair out of the way and your face was pressed up against his chest again. You took another drag of the smoke and tapped his sternum. 

“It’s beating so fast, the poor thing. Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of the pack for you. Your body’s a temple and I’m willing to keep it that way,” you winked up at him. 

“I don’t need you to finish anything for me,” he reached into his breast pocket to pull out his stash of cigarettes. He tapped out a new one, and before he could get his lighter you stopped him.

“Lucky you, I have one last match,” you opened your matchbox and showed him the stick. You stood like a flamingo, holding onto Wolfwood’s shoulder for stability and struck the match against the heel of your boot. A bright flame erupted before sizzling down to where you could bring it up to his face safely. The cigarette hung loosely from Wolfwood’s lips, and he made the mistake of looking directly in your dark eyes instead of the butt of the smoke. The fire danced in your eyes with delight, like a pyromaniac finally finding their passion. When he was able to hold a flame you blew the match out, and before he could stop what you were doing you switched out the cigarettes, putting the bent one back into his parted mouth and taking the fresh one for yourself. 

“Hey!”

“It’s the least you could do for me, Wolfy. I got a long walk back to the motel. This’ll keep me warm,” you tipped your hat to him and turned on your heel. 

“And what about me?”

“What about you, Nathan?” You yelled, but you never stopped to face him. Your hair bounced and your hips swayed as you walked down the street, and he could hear you smirking as you got his name wrong.

“That’s not my name,” he grumbled to himself, and he readjusted the Punisher hanging on his shoulder. He was about to leave the opposite direction himself, and the cigarette smoke filled his lungs enough for him to puff it out, but it tasted different. He held the smoke between his fingers and saw the light pink tinge of your lipgloss on the mouthpiece. It was barely there but suddenly cherries were the only thing he could think about. His head whipped around to find you and he could barely see the top of your cowboy hat poking through the crowd of people who were also leaving for the night. Then he saw your hat jerk violently to the side and into an alleyway. 

Wolfwood parted through the ocean of bounty hunters, his blood rushing in his ears. The seconds stretched for miles and he pushed aggressively through the crowd as he got closer to where he saw you disappear, and when he finally rounded the corner he was moments away from unlatching the Punisher. He saw a dying cigarette and your white hat flipped upside down on the floor. Equal parts fear and anger surged through him. Before he could make any hasty moves a motion caught his eyes in the corner of the alley. You stood there hunched over and trying to catch your breath, your hair flopped over and filled with debris. A large man laid flat on his back, groaning and mumbling incoherent thoughts out loud. His fingers twitched to reach his gun on the floor but Wolfwood crushed his fingers with his foot. 

“You okay?”

“Nevel!” You said, genuinely surprised to see him again so soon. “Me? Oh, I’m just peachy. Never been better,” you shook your hair out and put on a sweet smile. 

“Do you need to…” he started, but you shook your head.

“Don’t let my breathing fool you. He’s so drunk he couldn’t tell his dick from his gun. I’m just a little out of shape, but I can still protect myself.”

“Your shape is fine,” he said, dusting off your hat and handing it to her. 

“And what about my shape do you like?” You asked playfully, and snorted when he turned away to hide his flaming face. “Is it because I shared a holy cigarette with you? Is that why you can’t let go of me yet?”

“Let’s get you back to your room.”

“Now you want to walk with me,” you rolled your eyes. 

“I just want to make sure you get to bed and then I’ll leave. I’ll carry you if I have to,” he warned.

“Carry me and that death machine at the same time? I don’t even think you could do that. I’m not that tiny—“

But you were hauled over Wolfwood’s shoulder before you could finish your sentence. You caught your hat before it could fall again and he adjusted both you and the Punisher to sit comfortably to leave the alley. 

“Oh I’m going to tell the church about this, just you wait. A priest , manhandling an innocent bystander ! Is this because I haven’t paid my tithes? That doesn’t make me a sinner!”

“No, but killing people does,” Wolfwood jerked his shoulder up and you grumbled. 

“You’re no better than me.”

“I just do my job.” 

“Tell me, Father, do you ever do anything outside of your job,” you twisted and whispered in his ear. Your lips grazed the shell of his ear and a shiver went down his spine. “Caring for everybody else seems tiring. What do you like to do to unwind?”

“I’ll tell you if you can be quiet until we get to the motel.”

You pinched his butt in frustration, but surprised him once again by keeping your mouth closed. Wolfwood didn’t understand why you wanted to know, and he couldn’t tell if this was all a game to you. The only other time you talked was when he begged you for your room information so he could walk you right to it, but you were convinced he was trying to make you lose. When he reached the destination, he gently placed you back on your feet and fixed your tilted hat. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I kept track of all of your transgressions,” you tapped your temple. “See you in the morning paper, you corrupted church man.” 

Wolfwood chuckled as you turned around and unlocked the door to your room. He scoped behind him to ensure that nobody was watching you get inside. Before you stepped foot inside you asked him the same question. 

“I don’t ‘unwind’. I’m given a job, I do my job, and another one is given to me. There’s no time for anything else.” 

“Sounds… boring. Lonely,” you brushed the lapels of his suit and peered up at him. Wolfwood wished you would stop looking at him like that. It moved something in his chest he couldn’t identify. “You really don’t have time for anything else? Not even for a friend?”

“We’re friends?” He asked incredulously. 

You slapped his chest and frowned. “Of course we are! Why else would you come back running to me? We always find each other no matter how long it’s been.” 

Your eyes softened and you wrapped your arms around his waist. “I guess I shouldn’t be so hard on you. Thank you, Nicholas, for helping me tonight.” You kissed his cheek and let him go. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again but it wouldn’t kill you to write a letter.”

“I can’t be friends with you,” Wolfwood said slowly, and your eyes clouded over.

“What?” 

He hooked his free hand around your waist and drew you in close. Your eyes widened and you splayed your hands on his chest to stop from crashing into it. You looked up in confusion but you could see Wolfwood trying to gather his thoughts. 

“What I’m feeling for you isn’t friendly ,” he said carefully. His grip tightened around your body like a vice and your eyebrows sprung up. You ran your fingers over his bare skin, almost able to hear his heart thumping behind his ribs. 

“And what is it— what are you feeling, Wolfwood?”

He could try to explain it to you, tell you how you’re one of the first people he thinks of whenever he brushes death, or how he prays that the time you spend apart would shorten from months to day or hours, but the words couldn’t make it out of his throat because it is impossible to accurately describe just how much space you take up in his mind. You hide in every crevice of his being, taking up residence in his heart, stealing every smoke filled breath and making it your own because in reality it was never his, and each breath he takes carries him closer to the next time he’ll meet you again.

He could try to explain that to you, but it’s much easier to close the gap between them and capture your lips with his. It’s much easier to guide you into the motel and kick the door close behind him. It is so much easier to gently lay your on the bed after shrugging off the Punisher and swallow your moans as you clawed his back to hold him closer. In a frenzied mix of tongue and lips Wolfwood tastes you fully, doing what he has dreamed of doing a thousand times before but could never bring himself to. Despite spending your whole life out on this godforsaken desert planet, every part of you is soft, and his fingers sink into the exposed skin of your stomach. Your fingers scrape his scalp and his eyes roll further back into his head, and the only times he unlatches his lips from yours is to rip off articles of his clothing and you do the same. 

Your teeth bump each other when you meld your mouths together again, and it’s like touching a live wire. 

Every nerve of his sings for you and it’s like you’re jump starting his heart. He gives you a moment to breathe, instead kissing the corner of your mouth, your jaw, the veins in your neck and the hollow in your throat. Wolfwood runs his tongue over your collarbone, licking the sweat that sat on your skin. His previous suspicions were confirmed. He could never be friends with you. Not when he’s on the verge of devouring you. His tongue skated down your body until he reached one of your breasts. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, inviting him in and he listened. He sucked and flicked your hardening bud until you were gasping his name, crooning praises at him and begging him for more. He had to lavish the other nipple with the same amount of affection, and came back up to kiss your lips once again. 

“Do you understand why we can’t be friends,” he mumbled into your mouth. You nodded fiercely, snaking your arm around his neck to deepen this kiss. Wolfwood’s hand trailed in between your legs, gathering your wetness and stroking your clit. You mewled again, spreading your legs wider, grinding into his palm. You tugged his bottom lip between your teeth and urged him. 

“I need more, Nicholas.”

“Can I—“

“Yes, yes, go ahead,” you rushed out, holding onto the last bit of restraint you had before you were dragged down to the depths of depravity with him. Wolfwood leaned away from you, which was the last thing you wanted him to do, but when he did you were finally able to take in his body the same way he was doing to yours. Red welts were already forming around his neck and creeping over his shoulders, marks that you made on him. He pushed strands of his hair up and out of his forehead and gazed down at you in your entirety. You were almost too bright to look at, like he had to avert his yes lest he hurt himself. He wanted to kiss every inch of your skin, murmur praises into your ear, send you to heaven above over and over again. So much desire coursed through his veins he was unsure as to where he wanted to start. 

You saw his eyes filled with awe and it was like a spotlight on your body. You were still on your back while he rested on his knees between your legs, his pants still on but unzipped and unbuttoned. Although he wasn’t as close to you as you would like, his hands never left your body, and he caressed your calves as he canvassed your body. You could see his erection straining through his slacks and you bit your lip. 

“It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked here, Wolfwood.” 

You weren't even sure how he managed to undress you completely when you were sure that you had on more layers than him. His stares only heightened your sensitivity, but before you could say anything else he grabbed your ankles and dragged you to the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked down at him. He knelt down, kissing the inside of your thighs before hooking his hands underneath them and resting them on his shoulder. 

“Forgive me,” he said, alternating which thigh he kissed, creeping closer to your heated sex that fluttered with anticipation. “I want to do this first.”

The sight of Wolfwood’s tongue flattening and licking a stripe from the seam of your sex to your clit was almost too erotic for you to watch. Your breathing trembled as Wolfwood wasted no time to open you up with his mouth and drive you to the edge. He lapped at your folds, moaning into your sex and his nose rubbed on your clit in a way that forced you to lay back down and silently cry into the sheets around you. You reached down and gathered his hair in your hands, pushing him deeper into your heat and he surged forward. He loved the way your nails scratched his head, and with that he showed his silent approval.

Pleasure filled every corner of your body. You arched your back, your hips lifting off the edge of the bed but Wolfwood was quick to follow and tightened his hold on your thighs. You jerked when his lips pulled back and he bared his teeth around your sensitive bud, and you snapped your head down to look at him again. His eyes were closed, but it did nothing to hide the sex drunkenness he was experiencing. 

Wolfwood did the same thing again, mixing pain in with pleasure, and you rolled your hips into it, taking anything he gave you. Choked sobs tumbled out of your mouth, and they fell on deaf ears as Wolfwood was lost in his own pleasure. The mixture of your come and his saliva made it even easier for his face to glide against you, and he was getting addicted to the feeling. The sacrament he had consumed could never satisfy him the way you did. Your thighs started to shake around his head and he finally opened his eyes to look at you. Tears stained your face and with parted lips you whispered his name. You had this disbelieving look on your face, unsure of how he had gone this long without gasping for air. The sheets were clenched in between your fingers and your orgasm was dangerously close from breaking you. Wolfwood stretched his hand over to pinch your nipple, his fingers mimicking the movements of his tongue and you rode his tongue to oblivion.

With his tongue pressed on your clit, Wolfwood allows you to fuck his face, only slowing your down so he can ease his fingers into your dripping entrance to find your spot inside of you. With that you were both panting, and you felt the coil in your stomach tighten unbearably. 

“Nicho las ,” you moan, your breath catching at the end as you finally crests over and you’re falling helplessly back down to earth. Wolfwood doesn’t stop moving his fingers inside of you, making you curl up and you try to push him away. You’re blubbering, and the tremors in your legs are crushing Wolfwood’s head between your thighs but he had no intention to stop. He thought maybe if he kept going it would dawn on you how he would completely devote himself to you. 

“Nicholas, baby, please,” you groaned. “Please that’s enough.” He lifts his head up, a string of your arousal still hanging from his lips, and the bottom half of his face was shiny with your come. He licks his mouth clean and pressed one last kiss to your clit, and you release a weary groan from the sensation. He then kisses up your navel, your ribs, your sternum, your lips meeting each other when he crawls on top of you and you move back as well until you feel your head hit a pillow.

With all the strength you can muster up, you wrap your legs around his waist and flip him on his back. With him below you now, you grind into his erection and his hands are firm around your waist. You attack his neck, sucking and biting all the skin you can see, and Wolfwood melts into the bed. His fingers find your sex again, stretching his fingers to prepare you. You whined into his neck and licked at his skin. 

“You make me feel so good,” you said, rolling your hips on him. “Nicholas, I need you right now. ”

Your words only made his cock ache and strain in his pants. He couldn’t believe that you were begging for him, needing him almost as much as he needed you. He wondered if he ever kept you up with thoughts of “what ifs” like he did you, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that when your hands feverishly shook while pushing down his pants. They would be ruined if you didn’t pull them down off of him completely, but neither of you couldn’t find it in themselves to care. 

You pulled him out of his pants and stroked him gently. He was the perfect size for you, and you wanted to use your mouth on him, but the pained look on Wolfwood’s face showed that it would have to wait at a later time. It didn’t stop you from teasing him.

“Can you have sex? You know, as a man of God?”

Wolfwood’s jaw tightened. He watched your hand wrap around him and pump him leisurely, and it was almost enough to make him come. “I thought it goes against the religion.” You were pushing his limits, you knew it, but the way he swallowed and his eyes fluttered close only spurred you on. You thumb his slit, collecting the pre-come that beaded at tip and he drew a harsh gasp. 

“I’ll throw it all away for you,” he promised. “I’d do whatever you want.”

“That’s a really big promise, Nicholas,” you whispered. You lined him up to your entrance, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your sex and he was begging for release. “What if I abused that?”

Wolfwood couldn’t take it anymore and thrusted his hips up to seat himself inside of you. You silently cried out, your hand flying to his throat to steady himself but he welcomed it. The way you squeezed around his cock left him with no cognizant thought other than to get you to come again. His hips pistoned up, hitting the spot deep inside you until your moans turned to hymns. It made your toes curl and your hand tighten around his throat. He then realized in that moment, looking up at you with your name dancing on his tongue, that you are his religion. He only lived for you and it took him so long to finally accept it. 

“Use me,” he panted. “Any way you want. I want to be yours,” he grounded your hips down on his and you traveled your hand up his throat to put two fingers in his mouth. You pinched his tongue with your thumb and finger before spitting in his mouth, which you sealed off with a kiss. Your hand went back to his throat and squeezed the sides just enough for him to whine into your mouth and switch positions. 

With your back laid flat on the bed he pounded into you, and the bed threatened to give out. The sound of the coupling was enough to wake up other guests in the motel with the creaking of the bed and your wailing. Wolfwood was too enraptured in every emotion that flitted across your face, every change in pitch in your moans, the pressure of your hands on his body to be considerate of anyone else. The only thing that mattered was you . 

“Tell me how you feel,” he prodded, kissing away your tears that he couldn’t truly feel sorry for. “Tell me you want me.”

“God, Wolfwood, I’m about to—“

“Say Nicholas. Say my name, please,” he reached down between you and found your clit. He circled his thumb around it at a much slower pace than what he was fucking your with, and he reveled in the way your eyes rolled back into your head.

“ Nicholasohmygod !” You tried to keep your orgasm at bay but Wolfwood was on a mission to break your consciousness. You tried to clear your mind for one last time, your hand resting on the back of his neck and feebly pulling his hair. 

“Can you come for me, baby? Please, I want us to come together, Nicholas.” 

Your wish was his undoing, and with a few harsh thrusts Wolfwood came right when you reached the peak the second time. You spiraled down together, and Wolfwood rolled his hips into yours until he had nothing left to give. You locked him in with your legs, breathing heavily as you finally stilled but you still couldn’t let go. He pulled out of you carefully but you still sighed from his absence. He quickly got up to go find a washcloth in the bathroom and came back with it damp to wipe your down. You would still have to take a shower, but you convinced him to hold you in his chest while your legs regained function.

“And if I asked you to run away with me?” 

The question took Wolfwood off guard. He wasn't sure he heard you correctly, but the way you looked up at him with wide eyes proved that you meant what you said. 

“Where would we go?”

“Anywhere. We could visit everywhere. You can’t leave me, not again.” 

Wolfwood kissed the crown of your head. You were right, he couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t be able to live the way he had before now that you took this step. It would be too much for the both of you. 

“Let’s leave before the sun rises.”

You squealed, jumping up on the bed and covering his face in butterfly kisses. 

“I’m not tired enough to sleep, and sunrise is only a couple hours away…” you wiggled your eyebrows, and Wolfwood kissed you for the first time to mark forever.

[wizprout]

Essential Tips for Product Photography With a Smartphone | Let’s Media Solution

Let’s be real– product smartphone photography is not as simple as we imagine it to be. Your smartphone might have an incredible camera resolution, yet the photos might fall flat. Does that mean you either have to invest in a professional camera or compromise on quality? Not at all! A few small adjustments and the right techniques can make all the difference.

We’ve gathered all the practical tips you need to turn your smartphone into a professional photography tool. Let’s dive into this guide about how you can create stunning, high-quality images of your products using just your smartphone.

Setting up the Background

Backdrop and Props

A crucial part of product photography is having a clean background. A background that complements the vibe of your product will drastically enhance the quality of your images. A neutral backdrop, especially one that aligns with the color theme will keep the focus toward the product. You can then build on the backdrop with the help of props.

Strategically placed props can add to the visual interest of your photos by adding dimension to the image. Let’s say you’re photographing a scented candle–don’t just place it on a flat surface. You can arrange flowers around it to suggest its fragrance or a matchbox to indicate its use. A neutral backdrop with minimal props is always an optimal choice.

Create Depth

A major difference between images taken from a smartphone camera vs a DSLR is the perception of depth of field (DoF). Most smartphone cameras do not offer much control over the aperture, making the images appear flat. An easy fix to this problem lies in how you set up your background.

We recommend placing your background a bit far away from where the product is positioned. This way you can manually create a sense of depth. The same technique can be used in the foreground by slightly placing an object in front of the lens to create a blur effect.

Enhanced Lighting

Lighting has a huge impact on the quality of photos. In low-light conditions, your phone camera compensates by increasing the ISO, resulting in unwanted noise and graininess. Therefore, it is crucial to ensure your shooting environment is well-lit.

Invest in Lighting equipment

It is wise to invest in some lighting tools such as a lightbox that can be easily moved around. A simple lightbox costs anywhere from 40 to 100$ or can be easily DIY-ed for even less. A lightbox can not only be used for increased lighting but also for artistic effects like backlighting.

Use Diffusers

Diffusers help reduce harsh lighting by distributing even lighting on the surface, with fewer reflections, and shadows. You don’t necessarily need to buy a diffuser, a plain white sheet will do the job.

Avoid Using Camera Flash

As important as it is to increase the light sources, we recommend not using the phone camera flash. The flash on your phone is a direct source of light that only moves in one direction– that is towards your subject. This creates washed-out backgrounds and the light just bounces back awkwardly leaving unflattering shadows.

Set the Right Exposure

We know by now that proper exposure is crucial so the details of your product are not lost in the highlights or shadows. While some adjustments can be made during the editing process it is best to ensure the images are not overexposed or dull during the shoot.

Photography Compositions

What separates smartphone photography from that of a professional camera, is the ability to focus particularly on the product. While it can be difficult to achieve the same effect of emphasis with a smartphone, proper photography composition can help direct the viewer’s attention to the object.

Techniques like the rule of thirds, leading lines, and symmetry can make your subject stand out and eliminate distractions. To learn more about these techniques, check out our guide on photography compositions to learn how to frame your shots effectively.

Image Quality

You can nail image composition and backgrounds but the key to producing professional-looking images mainly lies in the image quality. Here are a few things you can do to enhance the quality of your photographs.

Increase Resolution

Phone cameras are often set to medium resolution to save space. To improve image quality, go to camera settings and set the camera to shoot in the highest resolution available. If your phone does not include this option, you can try shooting in HDR or portrait mode for improved results.

Avoid Zooming in

Instead of optically magnifying an image a smartphone camera simply crops and enlarges it resulting in reduced image quality. Try moving closer to the subject rather than zooming in to maintain the sharpness of the image. Alternatively, you can consider investing in a clip-on zooming lens for enhanced clarity.

Make Sure the Lens is Clean

As obvious as it may seem, this crucial step is very easy to forget. Tiny undetectable dust particles on your lens may add unwanted haze which can reduce image quality. Always give your lens a quick wipe before you start shooting.

Ensure the Camera is Stable

Lastly, we emphasize the importance of having a stabilized setup. Invest in a tripod to eliminate slight camera movements that may detract from the quality of your photos. Alternatively, you can rest your phone on a flat surface, however it may limit your movement.

Final Thoughts

Product photography with a smartphone is not only possible but highly effective with the use of the right techniques and equipment. When experimenting with these techniques, we recommend you look at the images before shooting more. Check for the compositions, lighting, and angles and ensure the props complement the vibe of the product.

For any inquiries or collaborations, feel free to contact Lets Media Solution in Dubai. Our team is here to assist you with all your media and photography needs. Reach out to us Today, and let’s bring your creative vision to life!

[duffslut]

R u mine? 2

Duff mckagan x reader

My Masterlist.

Word count: 1597

Warnings: Fluff!

After you and Duff went out of the pub, Duff guided you to his car that was parked across the street in front of the bar.

- Are you sure you can drive?

- We'll just take a ride baby don't worry.

You trusted him, and also, you were drunk too.

Duff opened the car door for you to get into the front seat and walked around to the steering wheel beside you.

- You good?

Duff asked before starting the car.

- Yes, I'm good.

Duff started off by driving slowly as if worried about your reaction, but as soon as he looked at you, you smiled nodding that he could go faster. He smiled back and ran a hand through his hair before accelerating the car.

You opened the window and saw the street of the bar getting farther and farther away as Duff accelerated, You passed in front of your apartment, Duff accelerating more and more making you feel butterflies in your stomach, the streets were empty and more and more blurry due to you being drunk and the speed at which Duff was driving.

You felt your body shiver as Duff's hand rested on your thigh, light and firm at the same time, while with the other hand he continued driving and looking straight ahead, as if his hand there made no difference, but it did for you. Duff's hand squeezed your thigh in an involuntary gesture as he made a turn using only his left hand, Your body froze at his touch. He looked incredibly handsome beside youl, the tattoo on his arm fading and reappearing due to the continual changing light.

You breathed fast and deeply as you felt the wind ruffle your hair, Duff was just focused on driving as fast as possible and sometimes he looked at you to confirm that everything was ok.

- You know, Y/n, I wish you had accepted my request to buy you coffee earlier.

Duff let his hair fall over his face like he was shy to say it, he gave you a little look as if he wanted to say something else, but he just kept driving.

- I wish I had accepted, I had no idea you were a rockstar.

You said laughing and he laughed too, now driving not so fast. "a rockstar" he said like he was thinking about it.

- Wanna do something crazy?

You were tempted to accept it, even though you had no idea what he was talking about.

- It's almost 1am, do you know that, right?

- C'mon Y/n, it's just for today, you didn't wear these boots for nothing did you?

- You're right. let's "do something crazy".

You leaned back in the car seat and closed your eyes just feeling the wind in your face. A smile escaped your lips just at the thought of where Duff was taking you, but you knowed exactly what he was planning when you started to smell the sea and the wind got even colder.

Duff got out of the car first and opened the door for you. You got out of the car and automatically your body shivered from the cold on the beach and the complete silence of the place that was broken only by the sound of the waves.

- You don't usually do that, right, princess?

Duff asked as he guided you with his hands behind your back to the sand on the beach, his boot sinking into the sand with each step, but you couldn't care less.

- Actually I always come to the beach at dawn with drunk rockstars, it's like a hobbie.

You said kicking sand in Duff's direction, making him smirk.

- you understood me.

You and Duff stopped a few feet away from the water and sat down on the sand.

- Actually no. - you said feeling your cheeks get hot, the truth is you didn't really used to do that sort of thing, but Duff made you feel protected with him. - I tend to be careful when I go out with some guy.

- And why not with me?

Duff looked directly into your eyes as he spoke, as if he wanted to figure out your answer before you said it.

- I don't know Duff, I think maybe I choose to trust you.

Duff reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a joint and a matchbox.

- Do you want it?

You nodded and Duff put the joint to your lips saying "Ladies first" he lit a match covering the wind fire with his hands and approached you lighting the cigarette.

you inhaled the cigarette and coughed a little after passing it to Duff. After a while just watching the sea and sharing the joint between you guys, you started to think your breeze wouldn't hit, but then you thought you saw something in the water and got up quickly, your head took seconds to follow you and you realized you were stoned as fuck.

- what's up baby girl?

Duff got up and staggered in place a few times, he was as stoned as you are.

- I thought I saw something in the water, don't you see that?

You really didn't know if there was anything there or if it was just your imagination, Duff narrowed his eyes as if looking for what you said you saw.

- There's only one way to find out.

He started pulling off his boots and the rest of his clothes awkwardly while still holding the tip of the joint between his lips. you looked at it in disbelief of what you saw while you still felt that there was something in the water that somehow seemed to be calling to you.

"Duff what in the fucking hell are you..."

You didn't have time to finish talking, Duff was only in his underwear when he ran towards the water.

- Didn't you want to do something crazy? do it

You didn't think twice, it seemed like a great idea to take off your boots and place them next to Duff's and right after you take off your clothes and stay in just your panties and bra.

You ran towards Duff who was already in the water, slowing down as your feet hit the icy water but Duff came towards you with his hand outstretched. You could barely see him due to the darkness, you just noticed that his hair was now all the color of the single black lock. Duff laughed as his hands lovingly reached your waist, pulling you into the water.

You dove in without bothering to wet your hair or your underwear, Duff was waiting for you when you came out of the water, a goofy smile on his lips.

- found something?

Duff approached you, the height difference becoming obvious the closer he got, you crossed your arms, your lips trembling with cold, and as soon as you went to answer Duff kissed you, he wrapped his arms around your body as if trying to warm you up, his lips were warm and inviting, making you want more, his tongue invaded your mouth and his hand moved a few inches down your back, his fingers drawing down your rib.

you stopped the kiss with a light bite to his lips.

- I'm cold, Duffy.

Duff kissed you again, smacking your lips before taking your hand and leading you back to the sand. You grabbed your clothes and ran to the car, Duff wore his shirt on you treating you like a baby after feeling guilty for making you go into the water.

- do you want me to drop you off at home? I mean, I'm in a hotel with the boys if you want...

- You can let me at home baby I'm tired

Duff nodded and asked you the way while driving, as soon as he pulled up in front of your house, you didn't know what to say to say goodbye. The night had been amazing and you didn't want him to think you didn't like it, you did, and if you could you would go to the hotel where he was staying and end the night even better. but you couldn't.

you turned to the backseat and grabbed your clothes, Duff still silently watching you.

- You call me?

You asked approaching his face, his hair still dripping with water. You left a kiss on his cheek and then continued to kiss him until you reached his lips, you kissed him softly, and Duff kissed you back, his tongue splaying around your lips asking permission to enter, and you gave it right away. You went back to your stool for air and Duff did the same, tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear.

- I'll call you princess, good night.

You got out of the car and ran into the house, even though the street was empty you were wearing only Duff's shirt and panties.

You threw yourself on the bed as soon as you arrived in the bedroom, your feet still with the sand left were out of the cover. you heard your cell phone ring and thought it could be your friend who hadn't shown any signs of life all night, but actually there's a message of Y/f/n of minutes ago, probably when you were at the car, but the message that you just received was of Duff.

" Hey pretty boots, want to see you tomorrow, what do you think? "

You smiled at the nickname the blonde gave you, somehow you felt important that he noticed your boots.

" Great. Where? "

"maybe we can have a coffee"

[badgirlcovenrep]

The Goddess' Blessing (of a daughter)

Chapter Two

Here it is... hope you enjoy

After Tiffany is in warm pajamas and her hair is nicely brushed, they head to the living room to meet Edwin, who is sat at the couch watching some kind of civilian sport that features a stick. Scylla never took interest in televised sports - that was not really part of witch culture - but she thinks it's sweet, how enralled he is when they come out. She remembers Raelle telling her once that she used to watch games with her dad.

Scylla can almost see her sitting there beside him, in her civilian clothes, snacking on nachos and discussing what was happening on screen. It made her heart tug painfully. Once again she considered if coming here was a good idea at all. Seemed like everywhere she looked, she could just see Raelle, and even if she'd seen the other girl just a day before, here, inside her childhood home, it did nothing to how much Scylla missed her - and how she wished Raelle could be here, with them. Warm and peaceful and free.

"Hey, dinner's still in the oven." Edwin informs, once he sees the pair of witches have joined him, but still, he rises from the couch and crosses the living room towards the kitchen "I got some boxes of Rae's toys when she was a kid down from the attic earlier, and I thought you'd like to take a look, Tiffany."

The small witch was still unsure about her new surroundings, and Scylla gently directs her to join the man in the kitchen, where he had settled two sizeable cardboard boxes over the tiled floor, filled to the brim with random toys that went from surprisingly well kept barbie dolls to matchbox hotwheels and loose pieces of lego.

"Wow, Mr. Collar, you didn't have to." Scylla assures, as Tiffany puts her doubts aside for a minute to peek curiously into the box.

"Of course I did, it's not like these were going to use all the way up in the attic."

"Well, you're very kind. What do we say, Tiffany?" Scylla coaxes the younger girl, as she's started sorting curiously through the barbies. The necro is happy to see she seemed to be feeling safer.

"Thank you, Mr. Collar." Tiffany smiles up at him.

"You, little one, can call me Edwin if you like, and same goes for you, Scylla." He declares, and Scylla can't help the affection that settles inside her chest.

Jonas was right. She really *was* going soft. But the witch is not so sure she minds it that much anymore.

"Alright... Edwin." She nods.

"Good." The man smiles, leaning down to take the box Tiffany hadn't yet looked through, "let's take these to the living room so you can play near the fireplace. It's getting cold."

****

Edwin sits back down on the couch a while later, and Scylla helps Tiffany sort through Raelle's surprisingly big collection of beanie babies. The young witch is fascinated with them, and she's lining them up in a circle with plastic cuttlery for each, getting them ready for a tea party as Scylla watches sleepily from the couch, when suddenly the phone rings.

Edwin gets up to answer. They can hear from the living room when he picks up, but aside from that, the conversation is nothing but muffled sounds. Scylla could listen in if she wanted, farspeech is not that hard, and she can surely manage to hone in on a conversation that is happening just at the end of the hall.

But Edwin is kind to them, and she's trying to be a better person, even if she can't push away the curiosity - the thought - that maybe it's Raelle. And how much she wishes to hear her voice.

She knows it isn't right though, so Scylla decides not to peek. They deserve their privacy- not without some internal protesting, she turns her attention back to where Tiffany still played with her new (to her) toys.

"Oh, no! You spilled your tea, mister giraffe!" She exclaims, knocking the yellow giraffe plushie against it's pink teacup until it topples over the carpet, "I can't give you more tea right now, sir, the other babies haven't gotten any, you'll have to sit down and wait. Yes, I'll make you more tea in just a minute." Tiffany grabs the equally pink teapot and turns to the stuffed hippopotamus, tskng annoyedly with a roll of her eyes "some clients are so impatient, mrs. hippo."

Scylla smiles fondly, settling down into the soft cushions of the couch and resigning herself to watching the game absentmindedly. Just then, Edwin peeks his head from the hallway.

"It's Raelle." He says, and Scylla's heart jumps at hearing her name, "she wants to talk to you."

The necro would've been embarrassed at how fast she gets up, but her mind is one tracked at this point, and she can barely hold herself back from running down the hall to where the phone sat by the back door.

Edwin had settled it speaker up on top of the phone box as to not hang up, and when Scylla finally comes face to face with the device, she can't help but stop - just for a minute - in hesitation. What they had lived a year ago was so fiery and fast paced. Scylla felt as if it enveloped her whole before she could even see the surface. Like canon-balling into the deep ocean when you can't swim.

Now, whatever they had- it felt tentative and unsure. Like walking across tight rope blind-folded. It was new, and she didn't deal very well with change.

Even then, as the witch picked up the phone with a shaking hand and settled it into her ear, beside her shaking nerves - it became quite obvious to her. Anyway Raelle wanted to be in her life, Scylla would never be able to deny it.

"Hey." She says, finally, and from the other side, a soft sigh comes.

"Hi." Raelle sounds tired, and Scylla wants to ask why, but the fixer continues before she has the chance, "I'm glad you both made it safe. Dad seems excited that you're there."

"Yeah. Your dad's been very nice." Scylla chuckles, resting the palm of her hand against the wall to suppress the heady, dizzying feeling in her lungs. Like she's just now taken a breath for the first time since hearing her voice in the clearing.

"He even brought down some toys from the attic. I hope you don't mind" The necro chooses to say, looking for anything that could distract her from the feeling and help keep herself upright "you didn't tell me you had like, a hundred beanie babies."

"Oh, Goddess." Raelle moans in mock embarrassment, but Scylla can hear the smile in her voice, and she can't help but smile too, "I- hm- I forgot they were in there. I asked him to bring them down for her once you guys got there."

"They're cute." Scylla replies simply, "Tiffany loves them. Thank you."

"Well- she can have them. They don't really have use in the attic." Raelle says, and they stop for a second of amused silence before the blonde speaks again, "what's her favorite?"

"I don't know. Honestly all I know is that the giraffe is a really bad customer." Scylla replies, chuckling lightly at the previous interaction she'd watched.

"Oh, yeah, he has always been an asshole." Raelle laughs, and Scylla joins her, for a second they sit there in little fits of giggles. It's refreshing and so very light. The necro thinks maybe she shouldn't have been worried after all.

Whatever they had before, it was absolutely incredible - it took Scylla's breath away to even think about it - but this? This was all of that wrapped in warm, soft silk. This was different, and honest, and it filled her with butterflies that threatened to flutter out of her throat with each tug along the rope that tied them together so very tight. She wished, more than anything, that Raelle was there, in the dark hallway of her childhood home with her.

"Thank you." Scylla hears herself say before she can truly think about it, as she leans down to rest her forehead lightly against the cold wall to settle her aching heart, "for believing me. For helping me."

Raelle clears her throat on the other line and sighs before she speaks again. For a second Scylla thinks she might have burst the glass bubble that extended around them, but then-

"I never got the chance with my mom but I- I get to have that with you. I guess I can't help but want to try." Raelle decides. She sounds so soft, Scylla's heart strings tug once again, and she's left at a loss for words. Somewhere in the kitchen, the oven timer rings, but Scylla is barely aware of it.

"I guess I also did save your life. Twice now." She speaks out, after a few minutes of silence. On the other line, Raelle chuckles, and Scylla can't help the pride that settles over her for having caused that.

"Yeah. Guess you did."

"Scylla! Dinner!" Tiffany calls out from the kitchen, and it startles Scylla a little out of the stupor that settled over her body as he lifts her head towards the rest of the house.

"I should let you guys eat." Raelle decides, sighing as if she doesn't want to hang up just as much as Scylla hoped they could be physically together. For a second, she lets herself believe that to be the case.

" I- thank you, for calling."

"Yeah... thank you for- hm- being there when I did."

Scylla's heart tugs against her ribcage once again, and she can hear Raelle's soft breathing on the other side. The witch feels as if she could stay there all night, given the opportunity, but Tiffany is annoying Edwin with a thousand questions about the game he'd been watching (she finally finds out it's hockey) and Scylla figures she should go save their host from being questioned to death. Besides, she is quite hungry.

"Good night, Raelle." She says, finally. "Try to sleep, okay? You sound like you could pass out any moment."

"I will." The fixer assures, simply "G'night, Scyl."

****

The next morning, Edwin very graciously lends her his truck and offers to watch Tiffany while she goes to meet with the Dodgers. He doesn't ask many questions, but Scylla still offers quite a bit of information. She understands how frustrating it must be to be left in the dark, and for once she doesn't feel the need to be as secretive as she'd been before.

The place they send her to is out of the city, away from the bright lights and military patrols. She takes back roads that almost seem to lead to nowhere a couple of times, before they cut into the horizon to reveal more sprawling landscape. Protective magic, she realizes, and the only real reason she hadn't been led away by confusion was probably because she was expected.

Scylla remembers staying at the farms before, when she was very young.

It'd be a good place to grow up, she thinks. A place where Tiffany could be away from all those things that so very desperately wanted to trap her for her voice.

She remembers harvesting berries when she lived here, squeezing them into her mother's basket as she smiled fondly back. It was a good memory. All the ones here were.

Before her, the fields come into view, a variety of different fruits and vegetables, tended by people of all ages, in simple but well kept clothes. Beyond them, the pastures, where fat brown cows chewed lazily at the grass, and even beyond that an orchid of fragrant trees that Scylla knew bore a multitude of fruits, all spring and summer, from juicy plums to red, big apples.

She passes it all to reach the gates, wooden and simple, but still flanked by two imposing towers from where respective guards peered down, one on each tower.

"State your business." The one on the right demands, once Scylla has rolled down her windows to the frigid winter air outside.

"I'm here to see Velma." She says, pulling down her sunglasses.

They give her only a nod in response, and the gates open so that Scylla can drive down the winding road up to the main house. It's an old, opulent mansion, built somewhere along the Victorian era. Over the years, the community had surrounded it by other buildings and houses alike, some looking newer and others, older and dustier, but all sturdy and charming, with flower boxes and wood panelling over the windows.

People and children walk to and from them, carrying various objects and chatting along their companions calmly. It feels peaceful here, and Scylla can't help but observe their languid movement as she parks the truck by some other trailers. It's definitely different from what she remembers, bigger and yet eerily emptier.

Scylla shakes her head to clear away the thoughts, sure there are a million explanations as to why there wouldn't be many people out here when it's still 7A.M. and so cold her fingertips threaten to freeze under her gloves. She gets out of the car, adjusting her coat and nodding slightly to a pair of older witches walking by before starting her way up the familiar path to the main house.

Velma Bjelke had come from Sweden along with her parents years before she was born. They had fled the great European witch war in the late 80's. All three had never been in favor of conscription, but given the way things were going in the old continent, Scylla guessed it was worth the shot to move all the way here. She wonders if they ever regretted it. But it was never something she thought to ask before they died.

When she was younger, Velma used to be around all the time. She was her mom's best friend, with whom she shared the knack for necromancy. Velma taught Scylla her very first seeds, and she acted like a second mom to her throughout the years they were together.

Eventually Velma had settled herself at the farms, where they all lived for a few years, and when Scylla left along with her parents, Velma chose to stay behind. She never quite knew why they left, and it was another thing she'd probably never get the chance to ask.

It should be around ten years since they last saw each other, and Scylla couldn't say she didn't feel apprehensive as she went up the stairs. But as soon as her feet were planted on the porch, the big oak doors swung open and there stood Velma, looking older than Scylla remembered her but still just as recognizable as she'd always been with her curly red hair, big glasses and flowy dress.

"Sweet girl." She sighed out, "I have missed you so much"

"Hi, aunt Velma." Scylla smiles, just as the older witch takes a step forward and pulls the youngest witch into a long, tight hug, "I missed you too."

I gave Scylla another mother figure and this one ain't dying

This fic is mostly gonna be fluff but it's also gonna have some plot around the Camarilla and the Dodgers that's gonna be put in C3, which is coming tomorrow or the day after

Hope you enjoyed, and feedback is always appreciated 🥰

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hi!! i recently got into johnlock and the universe has somehow directed me to your blog (which is an absolute godsend omfg). have you got any good possessive!john fics?

Hi Lovely!!!

AHHHH!! I’m so glad you enjoy my blog!!! <3 Thank you so much! <3

AHHH you know what??? I don’t get asked this all that much at all! I think mostly because it’s easier to find Possessive Sherlock fics and people then just... forget LOL

So guess what?? You’re the prompter for any fics I actually tagged or filed with Possessive John! <3 A pioneer you are! LOL I’m combining it with a few of the Obsessive fics as well, since I don’t have many new ones.

As usual, gang, feel free to add your own!! <3

POSSESSIVE / OBSESSIVE JOHN

See also: 

Specifically Jealous John b/c of Other People

Jealous John

Jealous John Pt. 2 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 2

Jealous John Pt 3 and Jealous Sherlock Pt 3

Jealous John and Sherlock Pt. 4

Jealous John and Sherlock Pt. 5

Hell or High water by bluefire301175 (E, 2,250 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Frottage, Alley Sex, First Person POV John, Case-ish Fic, Mutual Pining, Bed Sharing) – John wants. Sherlock wants. Plain and simple.

Display by 221b_hound (E, 2,377 w., 1 Ch. || Post-HLV, Tattoos, Public Hand Jobs, Exhibitionism, Possessive Sex, Possessive Sherlock, Possessive John) – A new client has been flirting with Sherlock and, finding no joy there, with John. John seems annoyed to be second-best, Sherlock thinks, so Sherlock decides to give the departing woman (and maybe also John) a demonstration of who, exactly, John belongs to. But there's more than one level of sexual jealousy and more than one display of possession going on here, outlined in the window of 221b Baker Street. Part 2 of Lock and Key

Apodyopsis by QuinnAnderson (E, 3,347 w.,1 Ch. || PWP, Rough Sex, Table Sex, Anal, Sexual Tension) – Apodyopsis: (æpəʊdaɪˈɒpsɪs) noun. the act of mentally undressing someone. Part 2 of Undressed

Overture by Kate_Lear (M, 4,435 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Angry John, Introspection, Dev. Rel., Embarrassed / Insecure Sherlock, Morning After, Bed Sharing, Cuddles / Limpet Sherlock) – A short snippet on how John and Sherlock might have got together.

Sherlock and John Go Clubbing by wendymarlowe (E, 4,716 w., 3 Ch. || Clubbing, Dirty Talk, Dancing, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Bi John, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Sherlock is Lost for Words, Sexy John, Mutual Pining, Possessive John, Floor Sex/Hand Job/Frottage) – John pinched the bridge of his nose - even for Sherlock, this was a new level of no bloody boundaries. “You want me to go with you to a gay club, wait around twiddling my thumbs while I let you get pawed by a criminal, then out-flirt him and talk you into coming home with me instead?” Part 32 of John and Sherlock's Kinky First Times

Caves in the Mountains Are Seldom Unoccupied by starrysummernights & TheMadKatter13 (E, 7,925 w., 1 Ch. || Were-Creatures ||  Werebear John, Pseudo Bestiality, Rimming, Heavy Dub Con, Rough Sex, Come Inflation / Eating, Size Kink, PWP, Bratty Sherlock, Rutting) – “This isn’t something to play at, Sherlock,” he snapped. “If it doesn’t work out- what you’re asking of me- we can’t shrug and say 'oh well, at least we tried'. If we do this… I could seriously hurt you. Do you understand? I could lose control. I could… I could kill you.”

My Life for His by QuinnAnderson (E, 8,816 w., 1 Ch. || Guardian/Protector, Greek Mythology || Growing Up, Sex, Religious Themes, Suicide, Minor Character Death) – It began when Sherlock was eight, and he attempted to climb all the way up to the highest branch in the old willow tree in his back garden. He'd thought he was still small enough that it could support him, but the second he'd grabbed hold of it to pull himself up, the branch snapped, and down he went, plummeting a solid twenty metres. The odd thing was, he never actually hit the ground.

Of Course I Forgive You by allonsys_girl (E, 10,735 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confessions, Canon Divergence, First Time, Frottage, Wall Sex, Infidelity) – What if things had gone differently on that train car?

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John,  Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

The Kepler Problem by kinklock (E, 24,270 w., 1 Ch. || Sci-Fi AU, Alien Sherlock, Space Repairman John, Alien Biology, Horny John) – Working in uncharted space exploration was not as exciting as John had hoped, especially when it turned out to be mostly bot maintenance on uninhabited planets. However, the mystery of the repeated, unexplained malfunctions on planet BAK 2212 might turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he'd been craving.

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending, Obsessive John) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

The Hollow Woman by ScopesMonkey (M, 51,335 w., 22 Ch. || Post-TRF, Major Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Friendship, Family, Angst, Crime, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Nightmares, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Jealous John, BAMF John, Angry John, Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Villain Mary, Open Ending) – Forced to return to London sooner than expected, Sherlock falls into a case too close to home. Part 1 of the Hollowverse series

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time, Obsessive John) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That's all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

Free Falling by twistedthicket1 (M, 203,574 w., 38 Ch. || Guardian Angels AU || Guardian Angel John, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Kidlock / Teenlock, Light Mystrade, Passage of Time, Possessive John, Drug Use / Overdose, Victor Trevor, Graphic Bullying, Big Brother Mycroft, Hard Drug Use, Depression, Possessive Sherlock, Possessive John, Panic Attacks, Nightmares/PTSD, Pining, Healing Abilities, Kidnapping, Violence, Torture, Blow Jobs, Virgin John, Emotional Development / Attachment, Mortality, Happy Ending) – All Guardian angels are born with a Chosen human. When this child is born, the angel comes into being to protect and care for them during their life on Earth. For John Watson, all he cares about in the world revolves around his Chosen, Sherlock Holmes. Watching him grow up though, the angel soon learns that God must have had a sense of humour the day he decided to make Sherlock, as trouble seems to follow him like a magnet wherever he goes. John can't decide what's worse, the idea of losing his Chosen one, or the fact that he may be breaking the most taboo law of heaven as he disguises himself as a human to better protect and befriend the beloved detective he's always watched from afar. He was meant to care for him. But what happens when caring evolves into something more? What happens when an emotion an angel is supposed to be incapable of possessing comes to life suddenly and viciously inside John's chest?

[ficforce]

A Good Man Part 1

Hinawa Takehisa x Reader SFW No set timeline New relationship

Y/N froze as she heard Hinawa’s voice behind her, it took her a second to take a deep breath and finish tightening the bolt on the Matchbox before turning stiffly to face the man, “I’m nearly done here, then I’ll get right on the maintenance of equipment.” She figured she was taking too long, Vulcan was their engineer but he had been working on a few projects whilst she covered the regular stuff, “I’ll make sure Captain’s equipment is seen to first and then… I’ll be faster, Lieutenant.” He was always so quiet and he looked so serious all the time that she always felt like she was in trouble.

“I brought you some water,” Hinawa held out a bottle for her, “It’s hot today.” He waited for her to take the water and then examined the inside of the engine, she’d done a great job, “You’re doing fine, Y/N. You’re thorough - No ones as quick as Vulcan. Make sure you take a break…” He knew she was a hard worker, he also knew that she became tense whenever he was near and not in the same way as everyone else. She seemed genuinely nervous of him and Hinawa was bothered by that. “If you fall behind then come and get me, I won’t mind helping.”

She nodded, shifting a little as her tenseness began a cramp in her leg, “S-sure…” The Lieutenant headed out and she let out a sigh of relief, stretching her leg to get rid of the cramp - He always made her so nervous.

“Y/N.”

The woman squealed at the voice and nearly jumped out of her skin. Turning around she realised it was just Obi with a bottle of water, he saw that she had one already and placed it on the side for later, “You alright? Did I scare you?” Obi could help but laugh as she crouched down with her hand on her chest, she looked like a startled owl, “I guess Hinawa was here,” he got down to her level and pat her head sympathetically, “You really like him, huh?”

“…No…” It was a lie. Y/N had the biggest crush on the man, he was pretty serious but that’s what she liked most. He seemed kind of scary but in truth, he was a kind man. He had scouted her from Company 3 after seeing her in action, he had said he was impressed with the ways she worked and thought on her feet. She wasn’t powered and that made some of Company 3 look down on her, moving to Company 8 was a no brainer. And with the way Captain Giovanni was, she got out just in time.

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with work and missions then I don’t mind,” The Captain gave her a reassuring grin and stood back up, “Hang in there, Y/N”

She gave a smaller sigh and nodded, “Thank you, Captain.”

— -

Somehow she had ended up in the kitchen with Hinawa, they hadn’t spoken other than about food preparation, she sliced the carrots in quick, precise cuts, making short work of them and then started on the spring onions. “You’re very adept at that.” Hinawa had to admit he was impressed with how well she cooked, he realised he needed more ingredients and lightly touched Y/N’s waist as he passed her, it had been an innocent touch purely to let her know he was going to move behind her but her sudden gasp made him pause. The man looked over her shoulder and his eyes widened as he saw blood, “Here,” Hinawa took her wrist and led Y/N to the sink, washing the cut before wrapping a towel around it and applying pressure.

Y/N tensed up as he treated her, if this was her old Company they would be mocking her. Company 8 wasn’t like that, they were kind and it really felt as if they wouldn’t judge her like her old Company. Hajima and Company 3 were heavily affiliated, powerful fire users and engineers made up the bulk of it - she was an engineer and made up the numbers in her squad. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Hinawa…”

“I startled you, it’s not your fault.” He pulled the towel away to examine the cut, “A bandage should take care of this.” Hinawa’s hand encircled her wrist and he made to pull the sleeve of her orange jumpsuit up. That was when she yanked her hand away and held it close to her chest, cradling it protectively.

“What’s going on?” Maki came into the kitchen and rushed to Y/N when she saw she was bleeding, “We need to wrap that up, come on.” The woman led her out of the kitchen, neither noticing that Hinawa’s eyebrows had drawn together and he looked down at the towel in his hand with a crestfallen expression. Was he really that frightening to her?

He had really admired how she had taken control of the scene a few months ago, she hadn’t been one of the firefighters at the frontline but she had been quick to direct people and had been more compassionate than anyone else in her Company when speaking with the Infernal’s family. She was happy to help Vulcan with maintenance and fixed the smaller things so that the other man could create new equipment for them. She just didn’t like him… at all. She couldn’t even stand for him to touch her.

“…Y/N.”

— -

“Lieutenant!” Y/N yelled and threw him his gun, the mission was getting out of hand and she was trying to help where she could. Captain Obi was knocked out cold, she had been trying to bring him around when the gun had landed close by, the Infernal had gotten close enough to land a hit on the Lieutenant before Arthur had knocked it back. Y/N didn’t check to see if Hinawa had caught it, the shooting was proof enough. “Come on, Captain… get a hold of yourself!” She let out a yell as a fire ignited close by, a spark must have landed in the spilt engine oil, “Obi! Wake up!” The fire crept toward them and Y/N began to panic, she smacked Obi’s cheek and yelled his name, “Damn it!” The woman grabbed his arm and began to drag him away from the flames - He was so heavy!

She ran for the Matchbox a few yards away and pulled out an extinguisher, aiming it at the fire she let loose to douse it. It didn’t seem to help as it spread further and was soon lapping at her feet, the heat could be felt through her uniform and she stumbled backwards, trying to get away from it. Y/N fell on her ass and scrabbled backwards - it was too close! She needed to get Obi away from there but she was glued to the spot, her muscles had seized and her throat felt as if it had closed up. The loud hiss of the extinguisher made her jump, Obi’s tall figure staggered in front of her and he blasted out the flames before they could make it any further. He dropped the canister once it was empty and turned to Y/N, the blood from his head had stopped and he was a little woozy but the man knelt beside her to check her over, “Y/N? Are you alright? Take a breath…” Obi could see she was beginning to hyperventilate, she was shaking all over, “It’s okay. We got this, Y/N.”

At some point he had put her in the passenger side of the Matchbox, she wasn’t quite sure how long she was there until someone got into the driver’s seat and the vehicle moved as the rest of the team got into the back - Was it over?

“Y/N, look at me.” It was Hinawa, of course, it just had to be him. “Y/N!”

The woman flinched at his demanding tone and she looked at him. He didn’t seem mad at her, he didn’t look any different than usual, his serious, wide-eyed expression seemed the same as always… perhaps she was imagining the softer look in his gaze than usual though.

“It’s over, you’re okay and so is everyone else. Just breathe, if you need to get out for a moment then that’s okay too.” Hinawa glanced over her shoulder as Obi opened the passenger side door to check-in.

Obi placed his hand on her shoulder to offer comfort and recoiled as she jerked away from the touch, “Woah… It’s just me, Y/N…” She wasn’t her usual self at all, usually, she was fine on missions and kept a cool head - Then again she was never this close to the action. “It was a pretty close call, right? You saved me from getting burnt up -”

“I wanna go home…” Y/N sobbed, “I wanna go home to base, I don’t wanna… Please, can we go home, Captain?”

“Sure…”

— -

She didn’t really speak to anyone when they go back, she ran for the showers and was done before any of the other women caught up with her. On her way back to her room she ran into Arthur and Shinra, they asked after her but didn’t pry, their concern made her feel a little better and she thanked them shyly before she kept going. No one brought it up during dinner and it wasn’t until training the next day that Obi and Hinawa called her into the office.

That terrified her, she was going to be fired, they were going to send her back to the 3rd.

Hinawa sat in the corner with his clipboard and Obi had set his chair up opposite the one she would sit in, he wasn’t using his desk to put space between them. When she sat down she couldn’t help but make herself as small as possible and subconsciously held her breath. “Y/N,” Obi began softly, “Why didn’t you mention it before? We could have avoided putting you in that position.”

“It…It’s not a big deal.” She murmured and glanced at Hinawa, “I’m a fire soldier, it… I just, I mean…” Her hands fisted on her lap, “It won’t happen again! I’m sorry!”

Hinawa let out a sigh from the corner and she felt like he had yelled, she didn’t want to lose his respect, Hinawa had given her this opportunity. “I should have been more thorough when investigating you, I knew that you had been injured on duty but I didn’t look into the specifics - I wanted you.” After a beat, he added, “In the 8th.” He leaned his forearms on his knees, he had put her in this position after all, “It’s a big deal, you caught fire and were burned badly enough that you had to take a year off in hospital to recover. I have an immunity to flames, I don’t get burnt in the same way you or the Captain might. It hurts like hell, right? I’m in awe that you go out there and are as compassionate as brave as you are, most people wouldn’t be able to get that close to fire after what happened to you, let alone help others.”

“You were never meant to be that close to the action, Y/N.” Obi said, “You were there because you were trying to save my life. I’ll keep training so that I don’t put any of my team through that again. If you need some time…”

Y/N wiped her eyes on her sleeve, she didn’t want to cry in front of them, she took a deep breath and then looked Obi in the eye, determination on her face, “I’ll keep training too! I don’t need time, I just need to try harder, Captain!” Standing up, Y/N then looked at Hinawa, “I love it here, I was really happy when you said you wanted me, Lieutenant… in the 8th…” She didn’t want this to change how they treated her, “I’ll get better so please, please keep supporting me as before!”

“We should get to training then.” Hinawa said as he stood up, “I think this meeting is over, right, Captain?” Obi nodded and smiled, reaching over to ruffle Y/N’s hair a little, “Y/N, let’s go.”

“Yes, Sir!”

[jiyuus]

Breaking Facade

I’m back~

And like my last post, it’s about Fire Force~ This time for one of the men that I’m ✨TERRIFIED✨ of~

But he’s also hot so- it evens out~ but he’s always so professionally and serious, so I wanted to... break him- I guess~

[Hinawa Takehisa]

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

It was a long day, a long day with a lot that could’ve and did go wrong. Not only were buildings burnt to the ground, but multiple inferals had popped out of nowhere. ‘Causing Company 8 to call in some of the favors they had stocked up from other companies and other fire soldiers a like. 

It was days like this that made Hinawa wish you were also a fire soldier.

So you can hold him, and heal him from every tough day. But you can’t, not until he has a day off.

But those are rare, but right now he isn’t thinking about tomorrow- about what Obi and the others would do.

He needs you.

As they arrive back at the cathedral, Hinawa is one of the first to leave the matchbox. This leaves everyone confused as he wold normally stick around and make sure everyone was okay. But Obi could see how different his friends eyes were, and that he needed a break.

“Hinawa,” Obi jogs up to Hinawa as was leaving the garage. “You should take tomorrow off, call Y/N up and go see them.” Hinawa only nods before leaving.

“Captain Obi, is Lieutenant Hinawa okay?” Shinra asked approaching him. Obi give him a small smile.

“Yeah, but he needs a break- I always tell him he works too much.” Obi walks to the others as Shinra looks in the direction that Hinawa walked off to.

*

Hinawa trudged along the halls to their office, wanting to get to the closest phone he could. Sitting down in his chair, he takes a moment before moving again- grabbing the phone and dialing your number.

“Hello?” 

“Y/N...” as the tone of his voice hit your ears, you knew he was exhausted and on the verge of breaking.

“Hinawa, talk to me.”

“I- I need you.” His voice breaks a little and it breaks your heart.

“You have tomorrow off, right?” Hinawa hums, and tells you he plans to visit you tomorrow. The call ends when he tell you that he needs to shower before the others and make dinner. You don’t say anything else but “bye, I love you” before hanging up. Hinawa was thankful that Maki and Tamaki had cooking duty tonight as he showered, tuning out the rambunctiousness of Shinra, Arthur, and Tamaki.

*

After your call with Hinawa, you knew that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see him. You could imagine how tired his golden eye would look, and you couldn’t wait. You put on some warmer clothes and decide to head over to the Company 8 cathedral.

Hinawa had told you to stay away, not because he didn’t want the other to know about you, but he really didn’t like mixing his private and professional lives separate- only Obi knew of you, but he didn’t know you.

Finding the cathedral wasn’t hard, it was a big building with the number 8 as it’s highest peak. Taking a deep breath, you make you’re way up to the door and knock on it. Waiting a few moments before you see a boy with black hair and ruby red eyes, from his appearance you could only assume that this was Shinra.

“Can I help you?” He asks, you nodded.

“Is Hinawa Takeshisa here?” Shinra narrows his eyes at you before looking up and down. “Or is Obi Akitaru?” Shinra excused himself for a moment, leaving you in the cold. Only coming back seconds later with a big buff man with brown eyes and short black hair.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m Y/N, I’m here to see Hinawa Takehisa.” At the mention of your name, Obi’s eyes light up with a big smile.

“Perfect timing, come join us for dinner!” Obi grabs you and drags you into the building. They outside and the inside matched in aesthetic of how old and rustic the place was.

“I’m Obi Akitaru, but you already know that, and this is Kusakabe Shinra.” You nodded, lightly smiling at the two.

“So how do you know Lieutenant Hinawa?” Shinra ask as they turn the corner, a step closer to the dinning hall.

“Well-”

“Arthur! Don’t do that!” A female voice yell before a crash was heard in the room they were going towards. You looked between the other two as they sighed and continued their walk at the same pace.

“Is it always like this?” Obi laughed and nodded before opening the door to the chaos they call their family. Everyone stopped when the door opened and they saw Obi and Shinra with a random girl. Before anyone could ask who you were, Hinawa steps out of kitchen.

“Y/N? What are you doing-” as soon as you saw him, you ran and hugged him. You felt him tense, but soon relax and he wraps his own arms around you. The others were in shock at the sight of their usual stoic Lieutenant, hugging some random stranger.

“When you called, I knew I couldn’t just sit around and wait for you to come tomorrow.” Hinawa’s face soften as he felt you start to shake. 

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Don’t apologize!” Your head shot up to look at him, “it’s okay to show that you’re tired Takehisa. You don’t have to be strong all the time.” You nuzzled your head in his torso, and your words beginning to mumble. Hinawa smiled as he began to rub your back.

“Okay, but for now let’s eat.”

[thewritingsofamadwomen]

I Hope You Don’t Mind

                            Chapter Two : I don’t know about you

Mia woke to the dark room around her, her hand fumbling around the nightstand trying to find her phone. After getting off the phone with Callie she showered and then went to bed for the night. At least she tried to go to sleep, ending up tossing and turning for hours, her stomach in nerves at the fact she agreed to go on a date with Paul. A guy, a very attractive guy at that, who seemed fully into her after talking for a total of maybe five minutes. It didn't happen in real life just movies and yet this is exactly how she wanted it to happen. She wanted nothing more then the fairytale life. Who says she couldn't get that with Paul, if she did end up liking him that is.

Sighing Mia opened her eyes squinting as the brightness of her phone screen blinded her, her phone reading one o clock in the afternoon. Mia decided it was best to get out of bed and gain the courage to actually call Paul and make some plans for today. Pushing the blankets away, Mia scrolled through her contacts looking for "Love of your Life" a smile spreading across her face at the name and rang him.

After the third ring a groggy voice picked up, guilty feeling she probably woke him up and now the last thing he would want was to go out with someone so rude. She stopped herself from overthinking, there was no possible way that she could of known that he was sleeping and he did tell her to call him today. Standing up Mia started to pace around the room waiting for him to answer.

"Hey, It's um Mia. From the beach yesterday?" She said questionably, unsure how to even start this conversation with a stranger.

"Oh hey. Sorry it was a late night. How's your day going so far?" Paul said on the other end, his voice sounding actually excited or at least Mia hoped so.

"Well I woke up maybe five minutes ago so I can't say too bad yet." She told him laughing, watching her feet as she paced around the room.

"I hope not at all since you'll be hanging out with me later. If you still want to that is?"

"Yeah, of course." Mia said nodding her head forgetting that he wouldn't be able to see her nodding.

"Maybe you could pick me up at the beach, say around five? I have to make a couple stops and I'll be around there. Then I can show you where it is." Paul told her coming up with a plan that seemed like it would work besides seeing a big Paul trying to fit in her car was sure to be an interesting sight to see.

Mia let out a soft giggle at the image, her car was the perfect car for her standing only five four she could easily fit. It was her dream car that Callie helped her get almost a year ago, Glad she didn't have to take the car her parents wanted to give her, forced to be in their debt is not someplace she wanted to be. So when Callie offered Mia had to accept, still unsure where Callie got the money for it but she stopped asking questions a long time ago when it came to her. Her mini coop fit just the right amount of stuff that she needed to travel around but not really much more.

"I would love that." Mia told her, her heart skipping at an actual plan being set.

"I'll see you at five then princess." Paul said before hanging up the phone giving her no time to reply to the nickname.

"His going to kill me already and I barley know him." Mia whispered to herself flinging herself back across the bed.

Those last three and half hours seemed to drag out forever, taking another shower and drying her hair and after many attempts to make her hair and make up perfect. And a lengthy conversation with Callie which included lots of wardrobe photos and options, Mia found herself finally heading down to La Push where she met Paul just last night. And boy were her nerves spiking, it wasn't like she had no experience with boys. She had a couple boyfriends back home but none of them were interesting or anyone that she wanted for more then a month. Mia seemed to get bored too easily with most people, the longest relationship was with Callie but that's not going to find her love. Yet Mia was still unsure what she was even doing, even if she liked Paul she still lived far away and even if she moved to a college around here it was still not going to be close by. Any thing they were doing would be cut short and yet Mia found herself still driving towards him.

And quite glad she did so, Paul was sitting on a piece of drift wood, in a white button up shirt hanging over a pair of dark wash blue jeans. Just a few buttons from the top undone to show teases of the chest Mia stared at last night. He looked as nice dressed up as he did dressed in almost nothing and that is not an easy task. It made her giggle a bit seeing as they matched, herself wearing a pair of light blue skinny jeans and a simple white knitted top, a black jacket thrown in the back seat as it looked like it might rain.

"Hey" Paul said grinning as he basically shoved himself into Mia's car, She already pushed the seat all the way back so he had the most space possible but he just barely fit in the too small of a car. " I think next time we may need to take my truck." He said laughing at her. Did she mention how perfect his smile was? Everything about him just seemed to be absolute perfect and it was ridiculous.

"I was thinking about how you would actually fit, it's as funny as I imagined." Mia teased him.

"Ha ha ha. I'm not the one with a tiny matchbox car."

"Hey now, don't be mean to Gage. He has done me well and he is perfect." Mia laughed rubbing her cars dashboard as she pouted at the insult.

"So your a person who names their car are you then? Interesting" Paul said smirking at her

"I don't know if I should be insulted by that comment or not. So tell me the way of food, I haven't ate anything all day." Mia said finding it so easy to joke and talk to him, her nerves seemed to calm down for at least a little bit so she could drive. After Paul gave her some relatively easy directions Mia found herself on the road again driving towards their date.

"So I have never actually been on a first date type thing, I only have gone on dates with people I been dating awhile so I'm not actually sure what I'm doing." Mia spoke fast, embarrassed by admitting it, sure most people her age should have been on plenty of dates good and bad that they would know what they were doing but she was completely clueless and didn't want Paul to have a bad time and regret his decision.

"Lucky for you, I have been on a few and I know just what to do darling. We spend the whole date getting to know each other. I want to know absolutely everything about you that I can." Paul explained, no judgement in his voice which Mia was thankful for.

"There isn't much to learn about me, I'm not that interesting really." She told him shrugging as she pulled into a parking lot of a 'Littlesea Diner' There were a few cars there, some kids looking around nine or ten were playing off to the side of the diner, you could see the people inside were smiling and laughing.

"We will see, Shall we my love?" Paul asked grinning at her as he stepped out of the car meeting her on her side of the car. Lightly placing his hand on her lower back he led them to the front door.

A little bell dinged as they walked through spotting a small table for two in the the back corner they headed over to it, Paul waving at the boy taking orders as they passed. The diner was cute, like something Mia would have seen back home in her town, the mismatched tables and chairs, the light yellow paint on the walls making the inside bright and happy compared to the dark gloomy skies outside. Everything seemed cramped and busy but it was cozy.

"So.." Mia started but trailing off trying to figure out what to ask Paul, unsure how to start a conversation with him. Placing her hands in her lap so she wouldn't fidget in front of him.

"How are you liking La Push or Forks?" Paul asked seemly completely relaxed, his body against the table, his arms relaxed sitting in front of him. His face calm but a small smile playing at his lips.

"It's okay, a little rainy but the beach is nice. It's also a bit smaller then I'm used to." Mia told him

"I thought you were from a small town?" Paul asked her, leaning forward slightly his head tilting a bit trying to figure out if he remembered correctly.

"I do but not this small of a town. Plus if you drive maybe fifteen minutes you get into bigger towns so its not as isolated." Mia explained to him, smiling as the boy Paul waved to handed her a menu.

"Hey Paul." He said grinning at him and giving Mia a smile also. He was huge like Paul was but you could tell he was defiantly younger then Paul was but his muscles almost bulging out of the top he was wearing, his muscles seemingly too toned for a boy his age. His face having softer lines compared to Paul's sharp jawline, his shaggy brown hair almost covering his eyes. And he seemed to have the same tattoo that Paul has on his arm, slightly being able to see it under his shirt.

"Colin, this is Mia. Mia this is my friend Colin." Paul introduced them, Mia gave a small wave and smile at him.

"Nice to see Paul on a nice respectable date" Colin smirked at his friend. "I'll be back in a few to get your order." He said before running off to help a couple close by.

"Do you not go on respectable dates then?" Mia asked him while she looked over the menu, it was simple food which was a good thing, she was far too picky to eat at most places.

"I don't really do the dates thing." Paul confessed, looking somewhat embarrassed as his looked down at his menu avoiding looking her in the eye.

"Ah. Then why did you ask me on a date?" Mia asked, her head tilting as she looked at him trying to figure him out.

"You're special. Different." He said honestly, the way he said it made Mia believe him. Though it could have very easily been a simple line that he used on every girl, Mia liked to believe that maybe it was just for her and no one else. After all she did always want to be that special person in someone life that makes them change their ways for the better. She has clearly seen too many romance movies in her lifetime, life was also much more disappointing but she still couldn't help but hope.

"Well I think I'm going to get a hamburger and french fries. It sounds pretty good." She told him changing subject, Paul looked far to uncomfortable with the current topic.

"They do make really good french fries here. Best around from all the places I go to eat." Paul grinned, thankful for the change.

Mia laughed at him. "I'm guessing you don't have a lot of places to eat around here besides at home."

"Nope we have here, one diner in Forks and this cafe but that really is about it. If you want anything else you have to head out to Seattle basically." Paul shook his head explaining. "A friend of mine, Emily, does all my cooking though."

"No one's cooking stands a chance to Emily's cooking, even my mom admits it and she's the cook here." Colin said walking up to them. "Know what you want?" He asked looking at Mia, knowing Paul got the same thing every time he came in.

"I'll have a Mac and chesse hamburger with french fires and a cola please." Mia ordered handing him the menu to him.

"And a chicken BLT extra fries, veggies and raspberry tea?" Colin asked looking at Paul to double check his order just in case as he grabbed his menu.

"Oh I just love how you take charge like that." Paul smirked up at his friend causing Mia to laugh at the two of them.

"You've certainly been here enough though."

"What can I say, I really hate cooking. I can make eggs though but that's really about it. And sometimes I mess that up." Paul shrugged his shoulder laughing, Emily tried to teach him a while back but after a small fire they decided that Paul was no longer allowed to cook unless it was throwing things in the oven or microwave. Luckily Emily was kind enough to make his meals for him so he could throw it all in a freezer and call it a day.

"Same here. I can't cook but I never really had to learn to cook either. Soon I'll have to if I plan to live on my own during school." Mia told him, giving Colin a thanks when he brought them there sodas.

"What school are you going to? For what?" Paul asked her.

"I wanna be a teacher but I haven't figure out where to go to school. I don't really know where I want to live, I think I have a couple options but they are all over. Plus I'm working in a crunched amount of time cause schools won't be accepting anymore soon." Mia explained to him. Knowing her parents could take care of any lateness but she really didn't want to ask for any favors from them knowing it comes with a favor any time. They would probably want her to go for a different major in order to get her to go to school. And her dream job was not something she was willing to give up.

"And is around here a place that you are looking?" He asked his eyes nervously looking up at her, his body going tense waiting for her answer.

"I liked Seattle when I went through it so I was thinking about it. I have a friend who lives there and she loves it, and her school has the degree I need. So I could end up going there." Mia could see Paul relax a bit in his seat letting out a deep breath that he was holding.

"It isn't so bad out this way, I like it. So tell me about yourself. After all I need to know everything." Paul told her a smirk on his face when he looked at her.

"Everything? That would be a lot of me talking." Mia said giving him a look, no one honestly would want to know that much about her. She had a pretty normal life so far.

"That's the point isn't it. I need to know your last name, your sign, your birthday, what makes your world spin around."

"Well my name is Mia Walker, I'm a Virgo born September 19. I haven't figured out what makes my world spin yet but I have a life time to figure it out yet. What about you Paul?" Mia asked trying to change topics and focus more on Paul.

"Paul Lahote, My birthday is January 13 I have no idea what what my star sign is. And I think it would have to be my family. I didn't have much family growing up but then I gained some and they are pretty alright. Speaking of which." He told her as Colin arrived with the food placing it down in front of them before walking away.

"That's nice to hear, I wanted a big family. I always had family but its more...manipulative. They only come by if they want money from my parents basically then we don't see them again for a while." Mia confessed a bit reluctantly, either people tend to run away from you when they realize you come from money or they start to see you as a bank account and nothing more. The last thing she wanted is Paul to not actually want to be around her as a person.

"That is rude of them. Sounds like people you don't really need in your life then." Paul said taking a huge bite of his sandwich as Mia picked up some fries.

"No not really but it's family so it makes it harder to say no. What's your family like?" Mia turned it back to him.

"I lived in Tacoma, it's another town in Washington." He explained at her confused look, Mia nodded her head to continue. "My dad and I moved here when I was younger. My dad is... a bit of an ass actually. But I made my own family with Sam and Emily and the rest of the pack. There is a huge group of us and so that's my main family. And they really are amazing even if they all can be pain in the asses."

"Do you prefer it here or there then?" She questioned.

"I love it here honestly. It's simple and not so chaotic and busy as a city. I couldn't see myself anywhere else honestly" Paul explained to her. "What's your favorite color?"

"Purple. If you could go anywhere, where would you go?" Mia asked him.

"I wanna go to Las Vegas. What kind of movies are you into?" Paul told her, leaning forward to listen to her, he had a million and one questions he needed to ask her. He wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to know everything.

"Anything Disney really, I have a huge obsession with anything Disney and fairytale. I go to Disney at least twice a year, its amazing. What's your type of music?"

"Anything really, Into rock type music mainly though. What are your hobbies?" Paul asked her giving her a smile

"Reading, lots of netflixing. Erm..what's your favorite animal?" Mia said unsure what to ask him, she was always bad at coming up with questions.

"Wolves, Our tribe is all about the wolves I don't have a choice in that. What's your super power if you had one?"

"I wanna fly. What's your favorite holiday?"

"Halloween. How old are you buttercup?"

"I am eighteen. How old are you?"

"Twenty."

"Are you sure about that?" Mia looked at him unconvinced, there was no way that he was so close to age to her.

"Of course I am. I just happened to look a lot older. We mature faster on the Rez. Much better water."

"I might need some then, get rid of this baby face and look like an adult would be nice. I get asked where my parents are far too much." Mia laughed.

"I think your beautiful, you shouldn't want to change." Paul said causing Mia's cheeks to flush bright red, she tried hiding her face with her hair as she looked at her near empty plate before his hand reached out gently pushing her hair out of her face so she could look up at him.

His body leaning across the table so he was a couple inches away from her face, Mia held her breath as she looked at him. Taking in the way his jaw sloped, the way his eyes stared at her, the way he bite his lower lip, the way he stared at her with pure captivation. He was truly absolutely gorgeous

"You shouldn't hide your face. I like seeing the blushes." Paul told her, his voice quiet as he ran his hand lightly across her cheek.

"Oh?" Mia whispered unsure how to even respond to him right now, She never had a moment like this with anyone else, all she wanted to do was to reach across the table and kiss him. But she didn't have the courage to make the first move, she wanted that confidence but the fear of him regretting her was too much.

"You look cute with some color on your cheeks. You stand out here, in a good way." Paul said backtracking not meaning to insult her.

"I'm sorry we can't all have your skin tone, some of us relate more to Casper." Mia said sticking her tongue out at him.

"Completely overrated." Paul told her resting his hand in her free hand, his touch warm against her skin. Mia could only hope her palms weren't sweaty with nerves, that would certainly be an embarrassing mood ruiner.

"Check" Colin breaking the tension between the two, before actually looking at the couple. "Unless you two need a moment." He awkwardly said seeing how close the two become.

"Hand it over Colin." Paul grumbled pulling away from Mia and placing his hand out for the check. Quickly slipping the amount in he handed it back to Colin then turned his attention back to Mia.

"Ready to go sweetheart?" Paul asked her, smiling as Mia sat there looking slightly confused to what just happened.

"Sure." Mia told him quietly, the mood gone but she couldn't help but think what it would be like to kiss him. Distracted she stumbled over the chair as she went to push it in, Paul laughing at her as her face went pink again.

"Not my fault, you're distracting." She mumbled as she made her way outside, it wasn't really raining quite yet just some raindrops here and there. Something she was real glad for.

"I actually have to head to work, its around the corner here so I can walk." Paul told her when they went to her car

"Oh okay." Mia said embarrassed. Clearly she was overthinking everything. Maybe she read the whole date wrong and he honestly wanted nothing to do with her. Maybe he found her too boring and he just wanted the date to end and was trying to find a way to end it. And he was just using normal lines on her and she just didn't realize.

"I wanna take you out again if I didn't bore you too much." Paul said reaching out to grab her hand, moving so he was standing in front of her.

"You didn't bore me at all. I would like that." Mia said looking up at him.

"I have one more question." Paul told her

"What's that?" Mia asked

"Do you kiss on the first date?" Paul asked her, his free hand sliding up her arm to rest on the side of her face, slightly she leaned into the warmth of his hand as she bit her lower lip

"I think I do." She told him.

Paul leaned further down holding his face just over her so their noses touched giving her a moment to back away if she still wanted, realizing she wasn't going to he closed the distance between the two. His lips touching Mia's, she stood on her tip toes to get close to him. His lips soft against hers, his arms wrapping around her pulling her as close as possible to him. Everywhere around her she could feel heat from Paul, Smell him all around her, a woods smell mixed with whatever spray he was wearing. And she realized that there was no where else she'd rather be than him wrapped around her. Paul pulled away quickly placing a kiss on her forehead as he looked down at her, Mia expression dazed but smiling as she had to crane her neck to look up at him so close.

"Was that a good fairytale kiss?" Paul asked her

"Perfectly Disney." Mia grinned at him.

[pmfry]

here are my (reposted, but also somewhat revamped) headcanons for poppy’s immediate family.  got her older sister up top and both of her parents below the cut.   complete with fcs,  hogwarts houses,  occupations,  deaths,  and a whole bunch more information because i love the pomfreys !   even if they all died and left poppy alone !

name: philipa “pippa” pomfrey --- poppy’s only sibling, four years poppy’s elder. faceclaim:  anastasia griffith. hogwarts house:  gryffindor. occupation:  barmaid.  at the time of her death,  was working at the three broomsticks.   strengths: charismatic,  attentive,  extroverted,  with that certain something about her that helps everyone around her feel at ease weaknesses:   messy,  chronically late,  emotionally distant when shit really hits the fan,    commitment-phobe to the max,   yet dangerously forgiving aesthetic: “can we pretend”  by pink    /    that friend who always manages to get a presale code for your favorite artist’s concerts    /    sunrise over the hillside    /    the bar after hours,   the roaring laughter of those precious few regulars allowed to dawdle several rounds past last call influence: pippa and poppy,  poppy and pippa . . . while the two ran with different crowds at hogwarts during the school terms (due to differences in age,  house sortings,  and interests),  during the summers,  they were inseparable.  some of poppy’s happiest memories of childhood involve her sister,  a broomstick,  and a sunny day out in the fields.   this was a friendship that continued into adulthood.  poppy’s longtime boyfriend-turned-fiancé max and ippa were the only two people in the world,  it seemed,  capable of encouraging poppy to take time off.   on her brief breaks,  they were liable to convince poppy to leave the hospital wing to the other healers and go to hogsmeade for dinner and drinks with max,  pippa,  and whatever woman pippa might have been seeing at the time  pippa held all of poppy’s secrets and poppy held all of pippa’s grudges.   they were best friends,  the very best friends. death:  pippa was killed during the first wizarding war during a death eater strike in hogsmeade village.   at age 38,  she was hardly the youngest life lost in the war or in that specific act of terror,  but her loss was the single most devastating to poppy personally.

name:  ernest pomfrey --- halfblood; the second of five siblings, the fourth of whom was a squib. faceclaim:  peter capaldi.  hogwarts house:  hufflepuff.  this surprised his family when he was young,  but the reasons for it became more apparent as he grew older.  although his outward actions and attitudes scream gryffindor, his internal motivations and values aligned more closely with hufflepuff.  his fellow badgers challenged him in ways others perhaps would not have,  and his adult self might have been all the more erratic and untempered were it not for their influence. occupation:  minor ministry official;  to this day, poppy is bit unsure of precisely what he did. strengths:  hardworking, passionate,  team player,  diligent,  socially aware,  morally sound weaknesses:  careless, moody, temperamental,  restless,  insatiable aesthetic:  “soul“ by matchbox twenty   /   a grandfather clock echoing in teh dead of night   /   the little boy at the petting zoo,  feeding the llama no matter how often it spits on him   /   day break over town hall,  a political rally in its infancy    /    a vegetable garden planted with best intentions but never watered to life influence:   when poppy was growing up,  her father stood as a perfect example of the dangers of motivation without self - reflection.   ernest was a hard worker,  deeply driven to pursue justice and progress whensoever he could.    however,   he also possessed the very shortest of fuses and utterly lacked patience for the finer details of his job,   which prevented him from progressing very far in the ministry,  despite what had appeared to be a promising career out of  hogwarts.   despite his tendency to  bite off well more than he was capable of chewing in the pursuit of all his passions,  he was a devoted husband and loving father.    his wife and daughters were his WORLD,  as were the wide circle of coworkers and friends he deemed his family ;   in their time of need,  he would do anything to be by their side.  this included him allowing his career to stall on several occasions that he could help evelyn in her ailing health. death:  ernest would come to outlive both his wife and eldest daughter,  dying of natural causes in the summer of 1994.

name:  evelyn pomfrey (formerly chapman) --- the youngest of four siblings and the only magical in the lot. faceclaim:  caroline goodall. hogwarts house:  gryffindor. occupation:  homemaker. strengths:  loyal,  headstrong,  direct,  self-reliant,  highly resilient weaknesses:   clumsy,  reckless in her youth,  forgetful,  sickly aesthetic:  “more heart,  less attack”  by needtobreathe    /    a lioness keeping vigil over her cub,   her kingdom    /    the pit - pat of an iv drip    /    creaky floor boards    /    a rainstorm,  a rocking chair  a front porch,  a shawl draped over thin shoulders influence:  to this day, poppy’s definition of true bravery comes from evelyn’s example: quiet, strong, and consistent in the face of horrible circumstance. a housewife for the vast majority of her life, she showed great adaptability in her day - to - day life. she was able to calm ernest in his most passionate of rages but was unafraid of escalating to his level if such fortitude was needed to bring him down. she taught poppy everything she knew, from the domestics of cooking and cleaning to her limited knowledge of wizarding politics and history, and filled their home with laughter and love. she nurtured her daughters, but did not coddle them;  she made no effort to hide her disappointment when poppy’s o.w.l’s rendered more E’s than O’s, pushing poppy to spent more time on revision in her final two years in order to gain the n.e.w.t’s required for an immediate placement with st. mungo’s. despondency and self - pity were never options for evelyn, remarkable when one considers that she would have had a multitude of valid reasons for feeling both. soon after marrying ernest, evelyn’s health took a sharp decline;  she was plagued by numerous ailments of both muggle and wizarding nature for the entirety of her life. but evelyn’s mind was strong where her body wavered.   death:  in her last few years, evelyn required near - constant care.   in 1978,  after a painful final few months,  she passed away peacefully in the pomfrey home with her husband and poppy on either side.

[bearsinpotatosacks]

There is a War On

This is also on AO3!

Night was clear around him, everything was silent apart from the gentle swishing of the trees. He tucked his hands under his armpits and wished he'd brought his gloves in his fit of minute rage. His body felt weary but his mind was active, there was far too much to think about to warrant rest.

"I know you have high standards, but I never took you for a hypocrite, Arthur," William said into the inky black sky.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Replied the Captain in a hushed tone. "And lower your voice, who knows who could be listening,"

"Who? I doubt any Jerry have wandered here so quickly,"

"Well, you never know, there is a war on" The Captain took a sneaky glance to his left and took in the slightly disheveled appearance of his Lieutenant.

William's hair wasn't as sleek and molded into place, his uniform less pristine but his face brighter, more open now they were officially meant to be sleeping.

"But perhaps you weren't alluding to the Jerry, then," 

Arthur raised an eyebrow and shook his head, despite William obviously being correct in his speculation. "Nonsense, who on earth could I be talking about apart from our enemies,"

"I think we both know what you're talking about," William quickly changed the subject and moved from his lent position in the doorway to stand next to the Captain. "Anyway, why are you not following your own advice and getting a good night's sleep?"

Arthur crinkled the printed card in his hand and turned his head away, immediately raising Williams' attention to said paper and foolishly allowing him to grab it from his hand. He made no effort to stop him from reading it, perhaps with someone else, but everything was different around William, part of him was willing to say that the normal rules didn't apply. 

No, of course the rules still applied, there are no exceptions to rules. That was a fact. 

It didn't matter if a part of him wanted to hold hands with him, purely for warmth, he'd learnt that men do not hold hands, under any circumstances. Nor did it matter that he wanted to run away from all this and spend the rest of his days alone with him, one must contribute to society, not even when said society went against everything he held secret. It simply didn't matter how much he wanted to break them, the rules still apply.

"Ah, your brother's getting married, congratulations!"

"I'm not the one getting married, there's no need to congratulate me," The Captain started. "Besides, I won't enjoy going,"

"Why? Weddings are fun events, aren't they?"

"Not for me, they're loud, rambunctious, no one respects personal space, they go on for far too long in the night until you're just tired and miserable and everybody drinks until they're silly. No, no, they are definitely not for me," He answered, adding more bite to his voice as the hairs on his arms stood on end and his hands clenched.

William scoffed a laugh and smiled, raising a worn cigarette to his lips and extending the matchbox to Arthur. The glow of the flame shone in his eyes as it reached closer to his face, the flickering wavering the light along his cheekbones as silence surrounded them once more. Part of him longed to reach out and stroke his face, he wanted to see if his skin was as smooth as it looked. He buried that desire, it was far too dangerous to even think about.

"It does say you're allowed to bring a guest, and it doesn't specify a romantic one," William sucked on the cigarette, Arthur was so close he could hear the crackling burning sound. "That does mean that I could accompany you, purely for security,"

"That would be a beneficial option for both parties, the parties being us," He lit his own cigarette, something he hadn't done in a while since he found the satisfaction a pipe or a cigar could fulfill. "You get to enjoy a night full of ridiculous dancing and I won't have to spend the entire evening regretting my decision,"

"Good, I'll write to the higher ups then, I'll say it's of great familial urgency," He said, smiling again as they fell back into silence.

They shuffled closer to each other as wind blustered through the fields and past the gravel. For a moment, Arthur allowed himself to wonder about a life he could live, in a different world where he was allowed to be himself. Perhaps he would be holding hands with William, maybe they would embrace and laugh and smile and kiss and love. He hoped some far off day that someone like him could do that, that maybe there will be people like him who could do all of that, and more.

~~

The Captain stood in the bathroom of the pub, it was small and beige, a single amber light lit up his face as he combed his moustache and hair. William emerged from the other cubicle and cleared his throat, his dress uniform was clean and crisp, hair all in place and a glint of excitement in his eyes.

The train ride had been long back to his hometown, families talking, children crying and staring at their uniforms, elderly ladies looking at them and whispering among themselves. At one point, William had to carefully place his hand on Arthur's arm just to calm him down, distracting him with talk of new plans for the allotment back at Button House. 

It was only an hour until the wedding, after dropping their belongings off at the old, worn hotel, giving William a tour and relaxing in the pub for a short while, and Arthur was struggling to hide his bubbling anxiety. He'd adjusted his coat buttons, combed his hair, corrected his tie a million times. 

"Will you stop that?" Havers snapped. "Your hair can't get any neater, are you really dreading this wedding so much?" 

"Yes, yes I am,"

"Why?"

"Well, let's just say, my family and I aren't on very good terms," 

William raised an eyebrow and asked," Why did they send you an invitation then?" as they left the bathroom and made their way across the cobbles of the street towards the church. 

"My brother's been called for national service, he is quite a few years younger than me, you see, and wants to get married before he is sent off into the unknown,"  Arthur stopped before the church and gulped.

A large crowd of people were mingling near the door, all dressed in their best clothes with styled hair and smiles. These were people he hadn't spoke to, or even thought about, in years and now he was arriving in full military dress with his colleague accompanying him.

"This was a terrible decision, we should go, they will not want me her-" Arthur started, almost fully turned around before a bellowing voice echoed across the street.

"Well, I'll be blessed, he actually came!" The shout came from his brother, drawing the family's eyes on them, a woman, hunched over a walking stick with thin white hair emerged from her conversation with the Priest, calling Arthur's name.

"It looks like we're staying," William mumbled as they were dragged into the crowd.

~~

Finally the night was over, they were frazzled despite staying sober for the night and were standing against the reception desk, dinging the bell impatiently before the main staff member emerged from the back room. She turned to hand the key to them and hesitated.

"I think I've been mistaken," She said.

"Mistaken?" They replied in unison.

"Well, we were told that you, Arthur, were allowed to bring a date and, well, we assumed when you booked a room that you were including your date in the booking," She gave an awkward smile and continued. "Which means that there's only one double bed in the room, and we're fully booked,"

The Captain and Havers slowly turned to look at each other, then at the woman behind the desk, and back to each other. Arthur's stomach flipped. He took a deep, whistling breath inwards and closed his eyes. 'Bury that instinct, it's illegal, you'll be killed and what good can you do for your country after that?' he thought to himself just as William said.

"We're army men, trained for worse situations, we'll manage," 

The woman handed him the key and directed them to their room, right at the back with a perfect overview of the rolling fields that Arthur vaguely recalled playing war games in as a child.

~~

Their worn cases were lying under the bed, William was turned around, changing into his pyjamas as Arthur brushed his teeth and prepared for bed in the bathroom. His hands hadn't stopped shaking since they'd stepped into the room. An entire night spent with Havers, the little rebel inside him was ecstatic. 

On the outside however he was terrified. Any of the staff could walk in, any of the staff could report them. Two men willing to share a bed? They were practically begging to be killed.

He went back into the main room just as William was putting his nightshirt on, his back looked just as smooth as his face, freckles revealed themselves under the yellow glow of the old lighting and his muscles rippled as he flicked the shirt on. Havers turned around just slowly enough for Arthur to break himself from his ludicrous staring and smooth out of sheets.

"Well, your family certainly knows how to throw a good party," William said, trying to ease the tension.

The Captain scoffed. "Yes, well, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself at least," He shook his head. "This entire ordeal was a complete waste of time,"

William stopped and let his face run through confusion, annoyance and curiosity. "How was it a waste of time? You got to see your family after years, we're at war and they could die, if it were me, I would've made up with them far before this,"

"Well, you're not me, are you?"

"Evidently not, because if it were me, I wouldn't be calling the last possible time I could see my brother alive a waste of time," He raised his voice slightly, not wanting to alert the attention of any of their neighbours. Despite his anger at Arthur for disgracing his family, he wouldn't risk their lives over it. 

"We haven't contacted me for years when I was off in the army before the war, why should it change now?"

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps because they could actually be hurt in this war, or maybe because they genuinely seem to care for you and you aren't giving them anything!" 

The Captain squinted and rubbed his forehead, "See, if we hadn't have come, if we had just stayed at our posts, we wouldn't be fighting," 

This was apparently the wrong thing to say as Havers only angered more, "This is your entire life, isn't it?"

"Yes," 

"You have no other wishes or desires outside the army and the war?"

"No," He said, 'Yes,' his mind corrected. 'I seem to be infatuated with you,'

"How? How can there be nothing else in the world you want that doesn't involve the military?"

"There just isn't, now can we drop the matter?" He said, about to climb into the bed just as Havers grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"No." He said lowly. "You keep saying your entire life is the army but why, you're not telling me why, you may not answer this question if someone else had asked it, but you always answer me,"

He looked him in the eye, "Why?"

"Because I want to, it's the proper thing an Army Captain should do," For a moment he considered telling him the truth, but his integrity, his survival instincts got the better of him.

"You're the Captain of a remote Army Base, Arthur," William let go of his arm and began to wave his hands around as he paced. "You're speaking as though you're a general when you're actually stationed at a remote base and haven't been promoted since I've known you,"

He stopped and just breathed for a second, listening to the creeks of the hallway before climbing into the bed and saying, "I give up, all I want is for you to be happy but you give me nothing," He turned away from him. "Goodnight, Captain,"

Arthur climbed into the bed, feeling the scratchy duvet on his feet as he took regular glances at William. He didn't want to annoy him, he just knew that if he told him anything true and personal that whatever they were would become even more dangerous.

"I do wish to play cricket more, that is one thing, away from the army that I want," He whispered, William didn't respond, didn't even shuffle under the covers. "And I've always had a certain quality that the higher ups didn't like, it meant they didn't want to promote me, didn't want to leave me in charge, and certainly wouldn't trust me with anything a general does, that's why you're so special, you're one of the few military men who can put up with me,"

William began to turn over and eventually was facing Arthur head on, his brown eyes were almost black now he had his back to the lamp. He reached out with a small smile and stroked his face. Arthur didn't dare breathe.

"I don't just put up with you, I like you," He watched as the Captain let out a shuddering breath. "I like you a lot, and I'm glad you're acknowledging that we understand each other,"

He waited for a response, but after realising he wasn't getting one, continued. "All I want is for you to have more balance in your life, all of this work, without relaxing, will make you ill,"

"We wouldn't want that," The Captain managed. 

"No, there is a war on,"

"There is," 

William sat up and turned the light off, then lay down and pulled the thin layers of bed sheets over both their heads. They were so close now, were being so risky, but this flutter in Arthur's stomach and pounding of his heart were too intense for him to care. For the first time in his life he didn't care about the rules, rules aren't applicable to these sorts of situations, especially because they weren't made with this sort of situation in mind. 

"So, because of our current situation, the threat of death and all that," William's voice was barely louder than his breath, he moved his hand across the mattress. "You won't report me for doing this, then," 

He clasped Arthur's clammy hand in his and stared gently in his eyes. His thumb ran over his knuckles as they listened anxiously to every sound of the corridor. 

For a moment, Arthur was satisfied, content and felt exactly where he was meant to be, here under a scratchy bed sheet, breaking the law with his Lieutenant. He'd heard about this feeling, read about it, and could never have prepared for how intensely warm it was. If he was a poet, he might say it was similar to sunshine, a warm cup of tea or a good bit of tobacco in his pipe. But he wasn't a poet, so he let himself bask in the innocent glory of it all, let his mind think of alternate universes where he could do this in public, and forget that they were returning back to normal life tomorrow.

But there is a war on, so perhaps there would be more moments like this, purely because of the circumstances.

[wizprout]

Essential Tips for Product Photography With a Smartphone | Let’s Media Solution

Let’s be real– product smartphone photography is not as simple as we imagine it to be. Your smartphone might have an incredible camera resolution, yet the photos might fall flat. Does that mean you either have to invest in a professional camera or compromise on quality? Not at all! A few small adjustments and the right techniques can make all the difference.

We’ve gathered all the practical tips you need to turn your smartphone into a professional photography tool. Let’s dive into this guide about how you can create stunning, high-quality images of your products using just your smartphone.

Setting up the Background

Backdrop and Props

A crucial part of product photography is having a clean background. A background that complements the vibe of your product will drastically enhance the quality of your images. A neutral backdrop, especially one that aligns with the color theme will keep the focus toward the product. You can then build on the backdrop with the help of props.

Strategically placed props can add to the visual interest of your photos by adding dimension to the image. Let’s say you’re photographing a scented candle–don’t just place it on a flat surface. You can arrange flowers around it to suggest its fragrance or a matchbox to indicate its use. A neutral backdrop with minimal props is always an optimal choice.

Create Depth

A major difference between images taken from a smartphone camera vs a DSLR is the perception of depth of field (DoF). Most smartphone cameras do not offer much control over the aperture, making the images appear flat. An easy fix to this problem lies in how you set up your background.

We recommend placing your background a bit far away from where the product is positioned. This way you can manually create a sense of depth. The same technique can be used in the foreground by slightly placing an object in front of the lens to create a blur effect.

Enhanced Lighting

Lighting has a huge impact on the quality of photos. In low-light conditions, your phone camera compensates by increasing the ISO, resulting in unwanted noise and graininess. Therefore, it is crucial to ensure your shooting environment is well-lit.

Invest in Lighting equipment

It is wise to invest in some lighting tools such as a lightbox that can be easily moved around. A simple lightbox costs anywhere from 40 to 100$ or can be easily DIY-ed for even less. A lightbox can not only be used for increased lighting but also for artistic effects like backlighting.

Use Diffusers

Diffusers help reduce harsh lighting by distributing even lighting on the surface, with fewer reflections, and shadows. You don’t necessarily need to buy a diffuser, a plain white sheet will do the job.

Avoid Using Camera Flash

As important as it is to increase the light sources, we recommend not using the phone camera flash. The flash on your phone is a direct source of light that only moves in one direction– that is towards your subject. This creates washed-out backgrounds and the light just bounces back awkwardly leaving unflattering shadows.

Set the Right Exposure

We know by now that proper exposure is crucial so the details of your product are not lost in the highlights or shadows. While some adjustments can be made during the editing process it is best to ensure the images are not overexposed or dull during the shoot.

Photography Compositions

What separates smartphone photography from that of a professional camera, is the ability to focus particularly on the product. While it can be difficult to achieve the same effect of emphasis with a smartphone, proper photography composition can help direct the viewer’s attention to the object.

Techniques like the rule of thirds, leading lines, and symmetry can make your subject stand out and eliminate distractions. To learn more about these techniques, check out our guide on photography compositions to learn how to frame your shots effectively.

Image Quality

You can nail image composition and backgrounds but the key to producing professional-looking images mainly lies in the image quality. Here are a few things you can do to enhance the quality of your photographs.

Increase Resolution

Phone cameras are often set to medium resolution to save space. To improve image quality, go to camera settings and set the camera to shoot in the highest resolution available. If your phone does not include this option, you can try shooting in HDR or portrait mode for improved results.

Avoid Zooming in

Instead of optically magnifying an image a smartphone camera simply crops and enlarges it resulting in reduced image quality. Try moving closer to the subject rather than zooming in to maintain the sharpness of the image. Alternatively, you can consider investing in a clip-on zooming lens for enhanced clarity.

Make Sure the Lens is Clean

As obvious as it may seem, this crucial step is very easy to forget. Tiny undetectable dust particles on your lens may add unwanted haze which can reduce image quality. Always give your lens a quick wipe before you start shooting.

Ensure the Camera is Stable

Lastly, we emphasize the importance of having a stabilized setup. Invest in a tripod to eliminate slight camera movements that may detract from the quality of your photos. Alternatively, you can rest your phone on a flat surface, however it may limit your movement.

Final Thoughts

Product photography with a smartphone is not only possible but highly effective with the use of the right techniques and equipment. When experimenting with these techniques, we recommend you look at the images before shooting more. Check for the compositions, lighting, and angles and ensure the props complement the vibe of the product.

For any inquiries or collaborations, feel free to contact Lets Media Solution in Dubai. Our team is here to assist you with all your media and photography needs. Reach out to us Today, and let’s bring your creative vision to life!

[steve-rogers-new-york]

This topic is brought to you thanks to my amazing Patreon Supporters!

Dip Pens

So I wanted to know what sort of writing tools Steve and Bucky would have been familiar with, and was really surprised to discover that they would have almost certainly learnt penmanship primarily with dip pens!

Dip pens are a writing technology that came after quills and before fountain pens. They are a reasonably straight-forward tool, but they changed access to literacy in America.

Elements and Accessories of Dip Pens

At the basic level, a dip pen consists of three main elements:

The Pen — While most of us will know of the writing point as a “nib,” it is actually called the “pen.” These metal point, commonly made from steel, are easily slid into the shaft, making them easy to change and replace at will. 

The Shaft — The shaft is the handle the user holds when writing, and can be made of a vast array of materials (ebony, mother of pearl, silver, gold, etc), but usually wood (or later plastic). 

The Ink — Alongside these is ink, usually in an open-top bottle or another temporary container.

Other accessories that would often accompany dip pens:

Blotter Paper — This is paper used to absorb excess ink to prevent smudges. Commonly it would be attached to a holder so it could be rolled over the paper smoothly.

Inkwell and Inkstand — Inkwells are containers that hold ink for use when writing. They can vary in quality and expense as needed. A step up from this is the inkstand, a luxurious desk accessory that would consist of inkwells, containers for spare pen tips, spaces for shafts to rest, and a place for ink blotters.

Writing Pad — This is a leather writing pad that would allow for the smoother glide of the pen tip over the paper and protect the desktop. Again, this was a luxury item. 

Cleaning Cloth — A cloth or scrap of rag used to clean pens after use.

Very Fine Sandpaper — Used to smooth the tip of new pens.

Using Dip Pens

To use a dip pen, the pen (”nib”) of choice is inserted into the shaft. The pen point is then dipped directly into the ink to a point above the “vent hole” (cut-out section). A certain amount of the ink will be retained by the pen to feed the strokes. Depending on the pen shape and ink type, a single dip can last anywhere from a couple of words to several lines of text.

Some maintenance and cleaning is required to get the pens into a useable state and to keep them in working order. New pens are often coated in a fine film of oil that will prevent it from collecting ink for use. To remove this, the pen can easily be cleaned with alcohol or the oil burnt off by passing it through a flame several times. Once cleaned, the tip will sometimes need to be smoothed with very fine sandpaper, as they can be razor-sharp and tear paper while writing otherwise. After use, pens will also need to be cleaned of residue ink, as letting it dry will affect its function. For this, some water and a cloth/rag will do the job to wipe it down before putting pens away. If not cleaned correctly, they can become corroded.

Pen Styles and Functions

As these pens were used in all areas of society, the diversity of shapes and designs is vast. Here are some of the key elements to a pen and what it brings to its user:

Tip shape — The width of the tip determines the thickness and shape of the line. The most common being “pointed” and “broad-edge” (also “stub” or “italic”).  “Pointed” tips have two tines that come to a single sharp point, and with the application of pressure, can spread and give variation in the line thickness. A “broad-edge” tip has a wide, flat point and will produce a stroke that varies in width from thin to thick, depending on the direction it is moved. 

Tip angle — Aside from the shape of the tip mentioned above, they can also come “pointed” or “ball-pointed” (or “turned-up”). As the name suggests, a “pointed” tipped pen comes to a point completely in line with the rest of the pen. Alternatively, a “ball-pointed” pen has an up-turned tip. The difference between the two is the ease at which they moved over the paper. A “pointed” pen moves best when pulled in the direction of the user but can snag on the paper stock when pushed away from them. The rounded tip of the  “ball-pointed” pen moves more smoothly across the paper, has more flexibility of movement in any direction, and is less prone to snagging on the paper. It was the predecessor to the modern ballpoint pen. As for the uses, a “pointed” pen will produce a finer line than a “ball-pointed” shaped one. For reference, Image-1 shows them side-by-side, Image-3 shows a “ball-pointed” tip and Images-4 and -5 show “pointed” tips.

Flexibility — The flexibility of the two tines of the pen will affect how wide apart they spread. The further apart they spread, the broader the variation in line thickness when pressure is applied. A stiffer pen will offer less variation in line thickness; while more flexible tines will allow the user a greater variation between fine and broad lines with the application of pressure while writing. Additional slots and notches can also improve elasticity in the tines. Think along the lines of touch sensitivity when using a digital drawing tablet.

Pen Shape — This is the most visually obvious element of a pen. The overall shape of the pen can vary greatly, and this element is both practical (impacts the way the pen works) and decorative. This element includes the “shoulder” (the base of the tines that flares out to varying degrees) and the “vent hole” (the cut-out at the base of the slit between the tines). The full list of types is too much to post here, but Wikipedia has a great visual list of them, and The Steel Pen has great, detailed information about dip pens. For now, I will just focus on the types I think our boys would have been most acquainted with:

Straight — Very simple, straight body that angles smoothly into the point. Similar to the Straight are the Beaked and the Bank which have longer tines. (See Image-4 and the 1st, 4th, and 6th pens in Image-9)

Stub — A straight body that then angles sharply inward with short tines.

Leaf / Flat Leaf / Spoon / Crown — These all have similar rounded shapes. The “shank” is straight until about halfway, then the shoulders flair out in a rounded shape. The result is a pen that looks similar to a spade from a suit of cards. (See Image-3 and the 3rd and 5th pens in Image-9)

Tip Size — The size of the tip will, as you might expect, impact the base thickness of the line.

To get an idea is the sheer variety these pens can come in, have a gander through Wikipedia’s gallery of dip pens!

Identifying Pens

Manufacturers will identify their pens by including their brand name along with the style name and/or number on the pen's “shank” (the section that slides into the shaft). As such, it is very easy to identify pen styles and their makers. In addition, manufacturers would put different design flair into the shape of the pen, resulting in some pretty interesting looking pens from higher-end manufacturers.

Purchasing Pens

Pens could be purchased easily in boxes containing anywhere from 12-100 pens. These boxes could either contain multiples of just one type by that manufactures, or a selection of their styles for different uses (a Straight, a Falcon, a Leaf, etc). While some brands were sold in tins, most I have seen have been cardboard boxes, often with a draw design (similar to modern matchboxes) sealed before sale with adhesive labels over the ends.

Cost Dip pens were relatively cost-effective, which is why they were used in schools over fountain pens and continued to be in use for decades after the invention for the ballpoint pen. Based on newspaper ads from the 1920s and 1930s, a fountain pen could put you back $1.00 - $10.00 (though I did see one ad with sale ones listed at 75c), while a box of 12 “steel pens point” would only cost you 5c. A dozen basic lead pencils look to have been around 10c, and a 2oz. bottle of ink around 10c as well. Similarly, a simple soft-cover 48 leaves book would be around 5c. Do note that these prices do come from ads for large department stores, so cheaper items could likely be found at smaller local stockists.

I personally have a decent collection of pen “nibs”. The ones photographed here are some I recently picked up for Patreon perks and a shaft I kept with my modern pens and markers (it’s too long to fit in the box with the rest of my nibs etc). But after spending an afternoon searching, I can’t seem to find the box I keep the rest of my collection in. When I do I’ll be sure to post some photos on more shapes they can come in!

If you want more in the topic, my full research notes on all topics are available for all $3+ Patreon patrons!

Image Sources

Close-Up of Pen Tips | D.’s Personal Collection Close-Up of Shaft End | D.’s Personal Collection Government of Canada No. 50 Close-Up (Flat Leaf) | D.’s Personal Collection Government of Canada No. 40 Close-Up (Beaked) | D.’s Personal Collection Eagle Pencil Co. E11 Close-Up (Falcon) | D.’s Personal Collection Wooden School Case w/ pens | Source Box of No. 2 School Pens, c. 1920s | Source Coca-Cola School Set, c1930s | Source Shaft w/ Pens | D.’s Personal Collection

This post comes to you thanks to Patreon supporters at the  ‘Ephemera Club’ level. Those subscribed in July 2020 received their very own vintage dip pen nib, along with a sweet postcard showing an element of Brooklyn in the 1920-1940s! If you would also like to receive neat, period-appropriate items in the mail each month, you can join the ‘Ephemera Club’ for just $15! 

If you join before the end of July 2020, you too will receive these items!

[ Support SRNY through Patreon and Ko-Fi ] And join us on Discord for fun conversation! I also have an Etsy with upcycled nerdy crafts

[written-prose-things]

What did you just call me?

Summary:  When an unknown hunter walks into Beacon Hills, Derek goes into Over Protective Alpha mode. Everyone gets puts into groups, which they're supposed to stick with at all times. Stiles gets stuck with Derek. Ya know, The Alpha He Has A Crush On. Over the next three days, they both realise exactly how much fun their normal life can be as well...

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | AO3 |

When you’ve only interacted with 4 hunters in 2 years and all of them are varying degrees of murderous, you form a stereotype about them. It might seem rude, but it keeps you safe.

So when a new hunter shows up in Beacon Hills, the obvious first reaction of the Hale Pack is dread, followed closely by an intense urge to protect the pack.

-x-

After a bit of redecorating, Derek’s loft becomes the pack’s den. It’s far more welcoming than the dingy run-down places he’s been staying in before.

Scott, Erica and Boyd are playing Mario Kart, sitting on the floor in front of the flat-screen T.V. (Stiles is just happy that his gift hasn’t gone to waste, the website he bought it from hadn’t had a return policy). Lydia, Allison and Issac are sitting on the couch, their feet resting on the shoulders of the ‘wolves on the floor, as they flip through magazines.

Stiles loves watching them from his perch on the countertop in the kitchen. The pack is starting to feel more like family.

The only person who’s missing is Jackson, who’s out on his night patrol of the county’s borders.

Derek has them all on a roster, mostly as a precautionary measure.

From the corner of his eye, Stiles sees Derek staring at him.

When Stiles turns his head, Derek goes back to chopping vegetables for the fajitas he’s making.

Stiles has already blackmailed the pack into saying how good they are, regardless of how they taste.

Stiles asks, “What? Why’re you staring at me?”

On the other side of the open floor plan, Issac whispers something to Lydia as the game gets paused abruptly.

Derek rolls his eyes, “Nothing.”

Stiles huffs, “Right. So I’m just supposed to ignore how all of you keep looking at me, I mean-”

All the ‘wolves stand up straight and look at each other. Derek mutters, “Jackson.”

Oh no.

Derek’s eyebrows are doing their thing. The thing Stiles associates with immediate danger, and they rush down the stairs.

Stiles hates his luck, just as he’s about to find out why the pack’s been acting weird for weeks, something new shows up. He stops his pity party and follows them down the stairs.

Everyone else beats him down the stairs by a long shot.

When Stiles walks out of the building, the only new person on the street is Jackson. Derek is staring at the night sky, his eyes reflecting the twinkle of the stars as his eyebrows do their Thinking ™ pose.

Everyone is standing in a circle, whispering urgently.

“What’s wrong?”

Jackson gives him a baleful look, ”We’ve already been over everything already, doofus. Why don’t you use your stupid magic to move quicker?”

Before Stiles can snark back, Derek chimes in, “Play nice.”

Stiles feels warm in his stomach. He laughs at Jackson’s irritated face and the rest of the pack also joins in, but Stiles feels like they’re laughing about different things.

Derek directs everyone’s attention back to the issue, by asking Jackson a question. Stiles notices that Derek’s ears are red for some reason.

“So what did you smell exactly?”

Jackson sighs, “I can’t explain it, Derek. I couldn’t smell a person, but there had been wolfsbane and Vervain in the area recently. I felt like, something was out to get me. I had to get back to the pack.”

Siles nods. He’s read in Deaton’s books that their extreme sense of smell can even help ‘wolves perceive emotions. Obviously, the smell of Wolfsbane and Vervain points to hunters.

But just not the normal ones.

Stiles lets out a sigh, “Supernatural hunters.”

Allison nods.

The pack looks at them, “What’re those?”

Allison explains, “Vervain is a herb that can be very harmful to elves and trolls. So, not many people in the supernatural world carry it around...”

Scott fills in the rest as he realises what they’re talking about, “So, anyone who’s carrying it, wants to harm different types of supernatural creatures.”

Stiles smiles. It seems that Scott has paid some attention to Deaton’s boring lectures.

Issac, Boyd and Jackson sputter, “Elves? There’s more than just werewolves.”

Allison smiles at them, “Maybe you should read the copies of the Beastiary I’ve given you.”

Derek calls out, “Alright, Enough. We’re still just speculating. Let’s go upstairs first and I’ll look into Jackson’s memory.”

The pack walks up the stairs slowly, letting Stiles keep up with them. Derek is at the front, supporting Jackson’s weigh. The beta’s run from the county’s border to Derek’s loft, he needs all the help he can get.

Derek lays Jackson stomach down on the couch and crouches down next to him. Derek slowly pierces his claw into the back of Jackson’s neck. Jackson lets out a pained grunt. A look of absolute pain consumes Derek’s face. Stiles is sure that he feels more pain than Jackson, as he’s an Alpha, hurting his beta for no reason. Around Stiles, the ‘wolves also shudder as their pack bonds rattle.

Stiles, Lydia and Allison also feel it but not to the same extent.

They all crowd around Derek and Jackson. Memory transfers take a heavy toll on the health of the receiver.

Derek pulls his claw out of Jackson's neck. He crumples to the floor before Jackson's neck can start healing up. Issac and Stiles move towards Derek.

Stiles keeps a comforting hand on Derek's arm as Issac does the heavy lifting of moving Derek from the floor to the armchair next to the couch. Stiles tries to slowly move away, hoping to get Derek and Jackson a glass of water each.

But Derek latches onto his hand before he can move, he whispers urgently, "Hunter. It's a hunter." before passing out and slumping forward.

Stiles stays crouched down, Derek's head resting on the hollow between his shoulder and neck. Behind him, Stiles hears Issac complain, "Oh yeah, he tells Stiles. I'm just the one who's moved him around, ensured that he doesn't choke on his tongue. I mean I know Stiles is practically his b-" Issac yelps as someone smacks him, "Best friend." he stresses, "Best friend. As I was saying-"

Stiles huffs, "Hey, drama queen, help me put your alpha to bed."

-x-

They meet the next evening at Derek's loft, once the Alpha is a little healthier. Which is to say, Derek counts being able to walk as a sign of full recovery.

The thought of the immediate threat keeps Stiles busy enough to not nag Derek about taking Deaton’s special medicine and to keep a good sleep pattern.

When everyone has gathered, Allison gives them the bad news. Her father doesn’t know the new hunter in town unless he’s hiding things from her again.

Derek’s first order of business is to divide them into groups. Everyone’s supposed to move with their group at all times. Derek doesn’t want anyone alone or distracted if they come across the hunter.

It’s the second part of the justification that pisses the pack of. Derek mutters about not letting teenagers have their way. None of the couples is together. It’s Scott and Boyd, Issac and Lydia and finally, Jackson, Erica and Allison.

Stiles and Derek end up together.

Issac huffs and mutters something which causes all the other ‘wolves to break out in giggles. Derek, however, rolls his eyes, only his ears go a little red, “Shut. Up.”

Jackson grumbles again, “This feels like a fucking school project.” He puts on a faux-innocent face, “Why can’t we choose our own partners, Mr Hale?”

Derek replies with a straight face, “Because if my betas are getting caught by hunters, I’d prefer for it to not be with their pants around their knees in the back of a car.”

The pack stays silent for a moment before breaking into giggles. Derek’s jokes are always quick, unexpected and delivered with a straight face. Jackson huffs. The clock behind Jackson reads 11:45. If they’re supposed to get to school on time tomorrow, then they need to get in bed now.

Stiles calls for everyone’s attention, “Has everyone decided where they’re staying?”

Scott nods, “I guess Boyd can stay with me, Allison and Erica can stay at Jackson’s place and Issac can go with Lydia?”

Stiles nods, “Right and who’s taking me and Derek?”

Scott is about to respond but stops abruptly. Derek replies from behind Stiles, “You’ll go to your house.”

Stiles falters but agrees. It’s late and he just wants to sleep so he goes with it. The pack slowly moves out of the loft. Derek follows them to the door. Stiles only realises the difference when Derek locks the door.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why? I can go with any of these guys.”

Derek growls, “Stiles, what rule did we just talk about?”

Stiles replies sullenly, “Stay with your partner at all times.”

Derek nods and follows the rest of the pack down the stairs. Stiles drags his feet along.

Outside the building,  the pack quickly splits up into groups, after a lot of unnecessary groping and kissing.

Derek clears his throat and looks away. His eyebrows scream UNCOMFORTABLE.

Lydia snarks, “Well, you wouldn’t have to see this if you just let us go where we wanted.”

The street clears out quickly after that. Then, only Boyd, Scott, Stiles and Derek are left.

Stiles cracks a joke, “So, who’s kissing who now?”

All three ‘wolves freeze up. Stiles rolls his eyes, “Geez guys, no homo. It was a joke. Let’s just go home.”

Stiles and Scott move towards Roscoe, at the same time, Derek and Boyd open the doors of the Camaro.

Scott shakes his head, “Derek, no. I love you but we aren’t going to get in that matchbox car and I don’t want to sit on leather seats in this heat.”

Derek turns to look at Stiles, who shrugs, “I’m not leaving Roscoe behind.”

-x-

Derek and Stiles rumble onto Stiles’ street in Stiles favourite car, after dropping Scott and Boyd off.

Derek huffs when they get near his house. Stiles asks, “What?”

Derek replies, “Your dad is at home.”

Stiles snorts, “So? It’s not like you’re my boyfriend.”

Derek freezes up. Stiles looks at him from the corner of his eye, “Jeez man, I keep saying no homo. What is wrong with you?”

Derek asks slowly, “But are you, like no homo?”

Stiles snorts, “That’s the stupidest way of asking me if I’m straight?”

Derek shrugs, “But are you?”

“Straight?”

“Yeah.”

“Not even a little. When I first got a crush on Lyds, I wasn’t even sure if I liked her or the jock she was hanging out with. Thankfully, Jackson turned out to be a jerk, so he wasn’t my first guy crush, but yeah...”

Derek growls. Stiles soothes him, “Don’t worry. No one’s taking me away from the pack.”

They slowly pull into the driveway. Stiles shuts off the jeep.

Even though he knows the answer, he asks, “You’re going to climb through the window, aren’t you?”

Derek hums.

By the time Stiles clambers out of the car, Derek is already climbing up to his window.

When Stiles enters the house, his father is in front of the t.v., he looks from Stiles to the wallclock meaningfully.

Stiles has come in 5 minutes before his curfew ends.

Thankfully, his father doesn’t say anything. Stiles reminds himself not to look a gift horse in the mouth and walks up the stairs.

When he opens the door it’s to see Derek pulling a blanket and pillow off the bed. Stiles asks slowly, after closing the door, “Hey, big bad wolf, we use the bed to sleep, not keep the pillows.”

Derek levels him with an unamused face and drops the pillow and blanket on the floor. The alpha’s gone crazy. Well, crazier than usual at least.

Derek asks softly, “do you have anything I might be able to fit into?”

Stiles looks Derek up and down, slowly. It’s the only chance he gets to consentingly look at the alpha’s figure, so he uses it to the best of his abilities.

Derek shuffles under his gaze. The alpha’s hips might be as narrow as Stiles’ but he’s got a lot more leg muscle to work with. Stiles ducks into his mess of a cupboard and pulls out an oversized old navy track pant his father had bought him a week ago. Stiles knows that he should also look for a bigger shirt, but he subconsciously wants to see Derek in a smaller figure-hugging shirt.

Stiles flings both the track pants and a shirt at Derek, who catches both. Stiles gets up and turns sound to see Derek standing in the corner, eyeing the shirt mistrustfully.

Stiles chuckles, “You know how to wear that right?”

Derek holds out the shirt shyly, “I don’t wear a shirt to sleep.”

“Oh.”

Stiles grabs the shirt slowly and continues looking at Derek, who doesn’t move.

A moment later the alpha says softly, “Is it okay if I change here?”

“What? Oh. Yeah. Sorry- I’ll just- Uhh” Stiles walks out of his room quickly, closing the door behind him.

He can feel his face heating up. With nothing better to do, he walks down to the kitchen and drinks a glass of water. The t.v.’s been switched off and his father isn’t in the living room anymore.

When Stiles goes back upstairs, he sees Derek curled into the blanket on the floor, hugging the pillow. The soft moonlight glints off the sides of his soft stomach, which rises and falls with each breath.

“Uhh, hey Sourwolf. You can sleep on the bed, you know that right?”

“Shut up and go to sleep Stiles.”

“Jeez, no need to be so rude about it.”

Stiles clambers into his bed, his hopes of seeing a naked alpha being dashed.

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Fraxus Anastasia au 1

I don’t think you need to have seen the movie, but I wanted to write it :)

Part one of the fic under the cut

The clothes are itchy and as a 13 years old Laxus reaches for the collar, his hand is slapped away by his very disgruntled looking chambermaid. The girl huffs and he apologetically removes his hand, allowing her to fuss over him. "Are you nervous?" Evergreen asks, mercifully avoiding his eyes as she forces him on a chair so she can reach his hair. He could attempt to lie, but the younger girl has a knack for seeing right through him, so he foregoes that.

"Yes", he admits reluctantly. His estranged grandfather's castle is immense and the walls hold no familiarity to him. Not once has his grandfather attempted to contact him and then, all of a sudden, he banished Laxus' father. He has no idea what goes through the old man's head and although he would never say  it out loud, the uncertainty unnerves him.

"All these people are gathered here today to see the new heir to the throne and the reason why the old one disappeared is unknown. People will talk."

"They always will." As his grandfather appears in the doorway, Evergreen hurries to bow before the man. He acknowledges her with a polite gesture, but also tells her to leave for he would like to talk to his grandson. Evergreen gives Laxus a thumbs-up before she goes and he nods in return.

"She's a spunky thing I've heard. Bossy, but good company." Ignoring the piss-poor attempt at small talk, Laxus decides to get to the heart of the matter. "Why am I here? Where is my father?" Sighing, his grandfather's face turns somber. "My son is an awful man", he plainly states and immediately, Laxus jumps to defend his father. "He's not!" he yells. His father is strict, true, but that's because he loves Laxus as well as the common folk. He's harsh because it's needed.

"You may not understand it yet." His grandfather looks at him with an expression that can only be pity and Laxus feels the disdain crawling underneath his skin. With a pat on the head that Laxus tries to dodge, his grandfather bids him farewell. "I'll see you in a half hour. Tonight is not about Ivan, it's about you. Try to have fun, won't you?"

Laxus is decidedly not having fun. He has two friends in total and neither of them are present at the ball. Evergreen is not allowed to come to occassions like these and Bickslow's skills as a jester in training apparently aren't needed today. Skirting around people is harder than expected, but Laxus manages to reach the buffet tables.

While he's wondering whether anybody would notice it if he hid underneath the table, someone tugs on his sleeve. "Excuse me", a greenhaired child says and points at a pile of creampuffs on a stand. "Can you give me one? I can't reach them", he explains, sounding terribly bored. Since he has nothing better to do, Laxus fulfills the request.

Munching on his creampuff, the kid stares at Laxus with an unsettling amount of concentration. "Would you like to dance? I like dancing, but if I asked anyone else, I reckon I'd be swung through the room like a broomstick. I'm not tall enough to keep up with any adults and the other parents were sensible enough to leave their children at home."

The dry tone of his voice forces a snort out of Laxus. "I'm not good at this", he warns and the child shrugs. "Practice makes perfect."

It can't even be called practice, because Laxus hasn't received a single lesson in ballroom dancing in his whole life and the other child seems to have grown up doing nothing but. They unanimously agree to settle on a bench, their feet a sensible distance away from each other (Laxus truly does feel sorry for the kid) and a platter of snacks between them. Conversation comes more natural to Laxus, although it's a very stilted one on his side. It's a blessing that the other kid is a goood listener and doesn't seem to mind Laxus' awkwardness.

Just as his nerves are getting settled, his grandfather appears before them and Laxus feels like crawling in a ditch again. His grandfather coughs, hinting for the other kid to leave. He doesn't. Instead he blinks slowly at the tsar before offering him a cup of water, which his grandfather takes after a short pause where the man clearly doesn't know how to react.

A berating outcry of "Frederick!" is heard before a lady yanks the boy from the bench, apologising profusely and attempts to force her kid to do the same thing. "I don't acknowledge that name. If you absolutely must, you may refer to me as 'the infant formerly known as Frederick', though I'd prefer it if you called me 'Freed'. Frederick Justine sounds terrible, while Freed Justine has a nicer ring to it. It's like a tongue in cheek reference to the things our family values: freedom and justice."

"Why don't you go all the way and demand to be called Freedom?" Laxus asks before he can stop himself and Frederick? Freed? rolls his eyes. "Because it sounds fucking stupid", he scoffs, tone strongly implying that he thinks Laxus is a moron.

Before he can retort with some snappy answer (not that he has one ready, but it's the thought that counts), Freed's mom has dragged him away and he can hear every berating word the woman utters as she physically removes him from the ballroom. There goes Laxus' only form of entertainment.

"That was something", his grandfather bemuses and Laxus gives him a questioning gaze. "Aren't you mad? He seriously disrespected you there." His grandfather snorts. "He's ten at most, of course I'm not going to berate a kid for being a kid. In fact, I think it should be more encouraged in the upper circles of society."

That doesn't sound like something the grandfather his father used to talk about would say and it momentarily throws Laxus for a loop. His grandfather seems to take note of his confusion, but he chooses to put it aside for the moment and Laxus is grateful for that.

"Here", his grandfather says and hands him a pocket watch. Their family symbol graces its front lid and when he turns it around he can see the third rule of departing (though our paths may have diverged, you must continue to live out your life with all your might, you must never consider your own life to be something insignificant, and you must never forget about your friends for as long as you live) written on it.

"This was a wedding gift made for your mother", his grandfather explains and plucks a necklace with a tiny, little key out of his pocket. He inserts the tiny object in the watch and the clock piece jumps open to reveal the rotating image of a young, blonde woman in a field of flowers. As the itty bitty figure slowly spins, a melody can be heard and Laxus can't help but gasp as he recognises the lullaby his mother used to sing.

"You can have it." With shaking hands, Laxus takes the objects from his grandfather and puts the watch in his pocket and hangs the key around his neck. "Thanks", he mutters, not looking at his grandfather. He's still not sure how he feels about the whole situation, but he does feel lighter now.

From the corner of his eyes, he sees a flash of green and when he turns to properly look, he recognises that it's Freed reentering the ballroom. The boy makes a beeline for Laxus and his grandfather, mouth set in a thin line.

"You two have to get out of here", the boy states as soon as he's within earshot. "Excuse me?" his grandfather asks and Freed's eyes keep darting back to the door he just came through. "Your son, he's no good, right? Otherwise you wouldn't have pubicly thrown him out. He's coming this way and he isn't alone."

Right as Freed finishes that sentence, someone screams from in the hall and many more voices soon follow. Laxus thinks he can smell fire, but before he can linger on that thought his grandfather grabs both Freed and him by the arm, dragging them away from the erupting chaos.

"This way!" he hears someone somewhat discreetly yell and he's yanked into a different direction. First Laxus struggles against the stranger until said stranger yells at him to calm down. It's Bickslow he realises as the other boy leads the three of them through the servants' passages. With a rather harsh shove, Bickslow guides them through a door that has no business being as small as it is.

"I'll see you all later!" he cheerfully says and waves as he turns around. "Wait! What are you doing? You can't go back there." Distressed, he watches as Bickslow winks at him and reveals the matchbox in his hand. "I'm going to hold them up for a little bit, I'll be fine. Evergreen will take good care of you!" And with that he's gone.

He has no time to ponder about Bickslow's fate, because for the second time this evening Evergreen is fussing over him. Only this time it's a quick change of clothes and a wig gets slapped on his head. His grandfather takes care of his own disguise and Freed stands there and watches. "Sorry", Evergreen apologises to him, "You're not written down in the protocol for emergency situations."

"It's alright, I'm not the one they're after. I'll hold down the ford with you." It's a task that he and Evergreen immediately have to take care of, as shouting soldiers try to kick down the door. His grandfather leads him away and the last thing Laxus hears before exiting the palace, is the sound of something metallic falling unto the ground.

They run for what feels like hours to Laxus. He's always been a sickly kid and right now, he's at his limit. With a wheeze that seems to come from deep within his lungs, he slams unto the concrete streetfloor, dizzy and dazed out of his mind. Logically, he knows that he isn't breathing right but physically, he can't do a single thing about it. All he can do is gasp pathetically like a fish on dry land.

"If it isn't the tsar and the mighty heir to the throne!" His father's tone is vicious and Laxus forces himself back on his feet. He can't look pitiful in front of his father, he knows he can do better than that even though his lungs burn like a furnace. "Ivan", his grandfather growls in response and it's nothing like the gentle tone he used all evening. His grandfather sounds like he would like to throttle his son with his own two hands and Laxus can't begin to fathom what the outcome of a fight between these personalities would be.

His father comes closer and the way he does it reminds Laxus of all the times he's been hit or yelled at. The man looms over him, stalks to him slowly with a grin on his face and a glint in his eyes. It has him whimpering rather pathetically and the sound eases the tension off his grandfather's face. "Come here kiddo", he whispers and extends his arms to Laxus.

He hesitates. Technically, he doesn't know this man. But then he catches sight of the expression on his father's face and it's a no-brainer. He nearly jumps into his grandfather's arms and the man catches him quite easily for an old man. They take off running at a surprisingly high speed and through zigzagging throughout the streets of the city, they eventually lose track of Ivan.

As the sound of the clock resounds through the air, his grandfather curses. "Dammit, five more minutes until the train leaves. Laxus, can you run again? If I have to carry you there, we won't make it." Dutifully, Laxus nods. Although he's unsure of his actual capacity to run that long, he knows that saying 'no' to an adult is not a thing one should do if they value their safety.

So they run and with the help of the strangers already on it, Laxus' grandfather gets lifted on the train. Laxus himself tries to get on too, but he's too slow and the train's already departing. Their fingertips graze each other, but the light touch is not enough to hold on to. He stumbles over a protruding piece of wood and smacks his head unto the iron railway. The last things he registers is his grandfather being restrained by the people who helped him on the train, screaming Laxus' name.