#then suffered for way too long trying to upload them

[wonderlandsakura]

It's not mother's day, but I have a sequel!

Marcus and Alice wearing matching Mom and Dad shirts cos they're co-parenting their zoo :)

Sorry about the horrible drawing of a baby, I tried :/

Also no they're not together, they're just co-parenting and Alice pays for everything and also owns the house, so she's dad, deadbeat dad

Bonus under the cut :>

That's tea not coffee btw

A T-shirt I wish I had cause I pseudo/mentally adopt all the dumbass boys

Yes, Marcus also counts as an adopted child :3

Maternal figures come in all shapes and sizes...

Sometimes even genders!

[ganggangscenarios]

Diamond Heart

Part 2

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You finally decide to utilise your gym membership. Personal trainer!Jungkook

Genre: Romance, comedy, smut, angst

Warnings: Body image. Negative language. Heavy smut scene at the end.

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This is the second time I've uploaded this story. The first time, I received some pretty mean comments and messages. SOOOOOO I have to say, if you don't like. my writing, that's fine, just exit my page lol. Do not leave mean comments please.

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New year, new you, right? Your new years resolution was to get your body right, eat healthily, drink less and most importantly; get in the gym. However, it had been months since the new year had begun and you still hadn’t utilised your gym membership. The fee was regularly from your bank account every month and you had yet to step foot into the establishment. You frowned every time you saw the transaction on your bank statement, but you did absolutely nothing about it. 

But the influence of  social media made you feel like you wanted to try and be a gym girlie. So you took your gym bag  to work, placed It under your desk so you didn’t have any excuse not to go. Plus, the gym was quite literally in your work building. 

You sigh change into untouched gym clothes that you had bought all the way back at the end of December, preparing for your new year’s resolution. Shame rushes over your body as you tear the tags from the tight fitting clothes and chuck them into the sanitary bin next to the toilet. Huffing and puffing you slide your socked feet into new exercise shoes. Stuffing your work clothes into the bag, you exit the bathroom stall and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You didn’t look too bad, you looked like someone who was ready to workout. If you looked the part, you could play the part. 

Lugging the bag over your shoulder, you head to the gym. 

It was pretty empty, you were surprised, as the majority of colleagues held a membership, considering all employees got a ten percent discount as your employers owned the building.

You guess that people don’t usually come straight from work, they most likely go home and come back. But not everyone suffers from severe procrastination like you do. 

Heading to the changing rooms, to put your bag away, you pass a very good looking man, you almost trip over as your eyes stick to him. He dressed in a baggy white shirt and shorts, his feet adorned in similar shoes to yours. His hair was cut in a cool way, it was kinda long, considering all the men at work and currently surrounding him, all sported cropped haircuts. His ears and his lips were embellished with piercings, you almost walked into a wall when you saw him playing with his lip piercings, the tip of his tongue, just grazing the shiny metal. Your gaze fleetingly drops to his arm, his tattooed arm. How was a man like this working here? He should be on the cover of vogue or something. 

Tearing your eyes away from him, you manage to make it into the changing room, unscathed. You quickly lock away your bag and head back out onto the main floor, phone and AirPods in hand, ready to tackle the gym. And then it hits you a ton of bricks. You have no idea what you’re doing. You didn’t know where to start, what equipment does what, what part of your body to focus on. 

You look around at people lifting weights, running on the treadmills, using the equipment like pros.

Your eyes focus in on the 'smoke show' of a man that ‘briefly’ caught your eye earlier.  He was now sitting behind the front desk and under a large poster for personal trainers. The poster read ‘In the body gym: PT sessions available; first 2 sessions are free’. And if a sign from the universe, it doesn’t fail to mention how the offer is time limited. You take it as a sign, plus you were most likely going to try the gym twice before never going again. Might as well get free personal training out of it.

With determination, you walk towards the front desk, before stopping in front of that man of a man.  And that’s when the words on your tongue freeze. 

Jungkook notices a presence looming over him and he puts the finishing touches on the next promotional poster. He looks up and smiles. He noticed you when you first came in, you were a new face, he knew all the regulars who attended the gym and he had never seen you before. He would definitely remember a face like yours. He stands up.

“Hello, how can I help you?” He rests his tattooed hand on the desk and he notice how your eyes grow larger at the sight.

Your words are still finding it hard to get out of your mouth. You probably look like such a weirdo, standing there and staring at him. You manage to lift your finger and gesture to the poster behind him.

He smiles and his smile is the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

“You want to book a PT session?” 

You nod and swallow the lump that had been lodged in your throat since you walked up to the desk.

“Sorry, yes, I’d like to book five.” You fumble to pull out your credit card from the back of your phone.

“I can just add the fee to your account. You don’t need to pay directly. The fee won’t be noticeable until the third session, on the account of our offer.” He leans forward to adjust your account. 

You can see down his shirt from the angle. And by the sight you can tell that he works in a gym. Hell, he might even live in it. 

He clicks a few times and quickly straightens back up, you swiftly divert your gaze.

“You are free to start your first session today.” He comes out from behind the desk and he towers over you, your knees buckle. Maybe that’s something you need to work on. Do your knees have muscles? Can you make them stronger?

“Okay, should I wait here for the trainer?” You ask.

He goes behind the desk, ducks down and then comes back out.

He extends his hand and you stare at him in confusion.

He retracts his hand, and rubs the back of his neck.

“I don’t know why I did that…” He awkwardly chuckles, shaking his head.

It can’t be. There’s no way that he’s your P-

“I’m your trainer. I hope that’s okay, the other guys are fully booked and I had a cancellation today, so I thought it’d be a cute joke…” He trails off, taking note of the smile growing across your face.

You feel kinda at ease seeing him get a little awkward attempting to joke with you. He looked like he should be the cockiest motherfucker ever, but second by second he was proving that he was the complete opposite of that. It was endearing but there was no way he could be your personal trainer, not like you had a shot with him anyway, he probably had a really fit and hot girlfriend. You digress, you didn’t want him to see you all sweaty, breathing hard and struggling to complete simple moves. 

He looks at you, his eyes doubling in size. He can tell you’re slightly uncomfortable, he could almost visualise the Neurons firing off in your head. He was attracted to you, that’s for sure, he wasn’t trying to come off as creepy. Maybe he did, and now you don’t want to train with him, maybe you’ll cancel your membership too.

He rapidly looks around the gym, hoping to catch the eye of one of his colleagues, so he could offer to trade clients. He catches Namjoon’s eye, but before he could call him over, you speak;

“It was funny, I’m just a bit scared.”

His gaze meets your eyes again. He internally feels a huge rush of relief. Thank goodness he didn’t scare you away.

“Oh good.” He tucks his hair behind his ear.

Cute. You think.

“Why are you scared?” He quickly follows up.

Shifting your weight between your feet, you answer, your voice barely audible over the EDM base leaking through the speakers.

“I don’t want to embarrass myself. You’re a professional and I don’t want to make a fool of myself.” You play with your earbud case, avoiding eye contact.

You wouldn’t be his first client who had that same fear, it was completely natural to be scared of embarrassing yourself. He felt the same way when he started boxing, the first session was nerve-racking, scared of getting anything wrong. But all you need is a good and supportive trainer. And if says so himself, that’s what he thinks he is.

“Don’t be scared. I’m here to help you. We’ll start slow, okay?” He offers a warm smile and places his large hand on your shoulder.

You almost fall from the feeling of his hand on your bare shoulder. Yes, you were acting like a teenage girl who had never interacted with a man before. But look at him. You were a grown ass woman who had never interacted with a man that looked like him before.

He leads you over to a room separate from the rest of the gym, closed off with glass doors, allowing you to see the whole place. Inside the room were a few exercise balls, foam roller and weights. The floor was soft and covered in mats.

He takes you over to the furthest mat in the room.

“Just me and you here, so don’t be nervous. This section is pretty discreet.” He reassures you.

You smile and place your phone and earbuds down on the floor next to the two mats you were currently occupying.

“We are going to start with stretching, so please sit down. I might have to help you with some of the positions. I hope you don’t mind being stretched…” His voice quietens as he realises how it sounds.

His cheeks flush a pretty pink. A hot flash that runs through you, leaves a thin layer of sweat on your hairline.

And so it begins.

The next morning you wake up sore as fuck. All that extra stretching at the end of the session seemed useless now. Your legs feel like lead as you swing them out of bed and headed to the bathroom. As you sit on the toilet, your thighs scream at you, it was almost as if you could feel every fibre of your muscles tear. 

Your phone buzzes on the countertop. Finishing your business, you wash your hands and run the shower.

You tap the screen on your phone to see a message from Jungkook. He said it was important to have direct contact with each other, just incase he wanted to recommend some gym wear or if you had any questions. 

Jungkook (Gym): ’Hope yesterday didn’t tire you out too much. You did great 👏 ‘

Another comes in as you finish reading.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘I hope to see you at the gym (or outside) soon! Make sure to book another session! 😊’

You quickly pick up your phone, steam fills the room as the water continues to gush from the pipes.

It vibrates in your hand.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Sorry if that was unwarranted.’

It vibrates again. You didn’t want to risk opening the messages just incase you were unsure of what to say. You really didn’t want to leave him on read unintentionally.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Please ignore the last two messages 😣 .’ 

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Lets pretend that didn’t happen. Sorry for the spam 😔 

You click on the notification and unlock your phone. 

You: Its okay 😆  My body feels like its on fire every time I move, is that normal?

You fire off the text.

Jungkook (Gym): ‘Yes 😂  completely normal. You should buy a foam roller to massage your muscles~ But more stretching should help in the mean time. Here is a video to follow (its me btw 😳)’

He sends a link to a Youtube video. You’re intrigued. The gym seemingly had a YouTube channel. The link loads and then you see Jungkook on your screen. Holding the phone in one hand, you quickly turn off the shower and head to your bedroom. Careful not to walking into any walls, you sit on your bed. 

He greets the audience cheerfully, informing them that this was a tutorial for stretching to relieve muscle ache. He is wearing the gym’s merch, not like when you saw him the day before, it wasn’t a baggy t-shirt, no. This time it was a form fitting sleeveless, lycra shirt, with the gym’s logo nestled between his sculpted pecs. His vibrant tattoos more on show than they were in person. His legs were wrapped in shorts, that fell just above his knees. 

He encourages the viewers to get an exercise mat or find a soft surface. You follow his instruction. A loud groan escapes your lips as you struggle to sit down.

He sports the brightest smile as he guides the (most likely thirsty) watchers through the exercises.

You strain your muscles as you attempt to  toe touch. And then he says something that brings you back to the previous day, during your session.

“You might need a partner to stretch you, if you can’t get far enough. It’ll feel really good.”

You were being advised on how to stretch and then when it came to this specific stretch. You were laying on your back, hands clasped around your knee. You knew that you weren’t flexible, but  you didn’t know that you were this stiff. You tried your best to pull your leg into your chest, but you couldn’t anything.

“Its not working.” You say, letting your leg drop to the ground with a thud.

Jungkook chuckles and looks down at you, arms crossed, his biceps bulging. The strength it took to not stare was more than what you used to lift the weights.

“I think you need help.” He kneels down in front of you.

He pauses.

“I can help you, if you want.” 

You nod.

He mutters an ‘okay, great’, before asking you to resume the position. He moves forward, putting his body over yours, placing his hands on your calf and pushing your leg up and down.

You almost moan with how good the stretch felt. You try your damn hardest not to concentrate on the man who was currently on top of you. You tried not to take notice of his scent, or the small scar on his cheek, or the mole under his lip.

“Can you feel it now?” He smirks.

He knew you could feel it, he heard the noise you let slip. He tries not to think anything of it, but his mind runs wild. He had to be professional. Plus you hadn’t indicated that you were interested in him in the slightest.

You nod again. He sits back on his heels and lets go of your leg.

You’re pulled out of your reminiscent state by a notification and the sound of the phone vibrating against the floor.

Jungkook (Gym): Did it help? 😢 

You quickly reply with no thoughts. Empty headed.

You: Its not the same without you

He was gonna think you were like all those other woman in the gym who thirsted over him. You needed to fix it.

You quickly send another message.

You: *your help ☺️ 

Jungkook’s heart sank at your correction. Maybe you weren’t interested. You probably in a relationship and the last thing you wanted to deal with was a creepy PT harassing you. He doesn’t reply.

You spend your whole shower thinking about being left on read.

Your closest co-worker, Bethany, sits across from you during in lunch. She notices how you barely make conversation, or keep the conversation. You check your phone every 5 minutes.

“Who are we waiting for?” She asks, her fork digging around in her bowl.

“Huh?” 

She chuckles.

“You’re obviously waiting for someone to text. You keep on looking at phone like every two seconds. So, who are we waiting for?”

You didn’t know you were being that obvious. 

“Well… My personal trainer is a total twenty out of ten. And he messaged me this morning to give me some stretching tips, and I may have ended our last convo on a creepy note. And now I think that he’s ghosting me because I was a creep. He probably blocked me. I’m probably banned from the gym.” Words rush out of your sauce covered lips. Maybe spaghetti wasn’t the best meal to have in the middle of the day.

Bethany shoves a napkin in your face, which you accept gratefully. She request to see the messages. Embarrassed, you hand your phone over to her.

She remains silent as she scrolls down the screen.

“He has a crush on you.” She finally speaks, her eyes fixed on the screen, her thumb pressing down. She was doing more than looking at the messages.

“You better not be sending another message.” You warn her, hand reaching across the table.

She swiftly moves her chair back, so your phone is out of reach.

“If you don’t snatch him up, someone else will. Oh my God, he is…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, she turns the screen towards you. And you freeze. It is a picture of a rather muscular man’s bare back, the hair at the nape of his neck was wet with sweat. And the tattooed arm… You knew that arm. It was in your dreams last night.

“W-where did you find that?”

She smiles and her thumb resumes the swiping motion.

“It was in his previous profile pictures.” She leans back in her chair.

“His picture is a brown dog.” You sit back, the image burnt into your eyes.

How were suppose to act now that you’ve seen that?  All you can imagine is digging your nails into that back as-

See? You’ve been corrupted. No, you must be ovulating, that why the impure thoughts plague your mind. You’ve seen good looking men before, but you’ve never had such a primal reaction before. You also didn’t know him well enough to like anything besides his looks. His very, very, very good looks.

“He has a ton of pictures. He may be the first guy ever who’s good at taking pictures. Damn, look at this.” She turns the screen towards you once more. This time he was standing in a mirror, hair slicked back and in a black button down. 

“I can never go back to the gym. I guess my new years resolution is not going to be fulfilled.” You sigh, leaning forward to put your head in your arms.

Suddenly, Bethany gasps.

“He replied.” She smiles.

Your heart drops to your stomach. 

“I can’t look. You read it.” You close your eyes, not wanting to look at her face.

She clicks on the notification. It felt as if seconds were taking hours to pass.

“Aww~” 

Your head pops up, eyes shoot open.

“Aww?” 

She nods.

“He said ‘I’d be glad to help, I like you.”

You lunge forward and grab the device out of her hand.

It shakes in your hand

Jungkook (Gym): * your company 😜 

Your heartbeat quickens and a smile spreads across your face. He was nicely making fun of you, recalling back to your little save earlier.

“If you don’t go for it, I will.” Bethany jokes, her engagement ring, glistening under the lighting of the restaurant.

You sit back in your chair, clutching the phone, thinking of a reply. The phone buzzes again.

Jungkook (Gym): I hope I didn’t ruin my chances of asking you out for dinner after our training sessions. I hope it didn’t come off as creepy 🤢 

You didn’t dwell on a reply, you thumbs swiftly move across the screen as you type out a reply.

You: Why wait? 🫤 

Jungkook didn’t want to rush anything just incase the attraction was purely physical. You still had four sessions left. He didn’t want to put either of you in that uncomfortable position of feeling like you were stuck with someone you had a bad experience with. What if you found him boring, or strange, or creepy? Oh he was so stupid, luckily you seemed interested, but he didn’t even ask if you were single or not, he just pounced on you like some sort of predator.

Jungkook (Gym): I want you to keep on coming to the gym. I want it to go well.

Your heart melts.  It was endearing. That someone that looked like him could be nervous. 

You send a heart emoji and lock your phone, placing it screen down on the table. As you’re about to open your mouth to discuss your messages with Bethany, your phone rings. Flipping it up, you see the name on the screen; Jungkook.

You show Bethany. She snatches the device from you and answers it, shoving it to your ear.

“Hello?” You say.

“Hi. How are you?” His silky, yet raspy voice bleeds through the speakers.

Your eyes zero in on the left over food on your plate, your finger mindlessly tracing patterns into the table.

“I-I’m good. You?” 

You could hear the EDM music that played in the gym come through the phone. It must be at work.

“Same. Uh, do you want to come in today? I could help the soreness go away? Well, not completely, but feel better?” He suggests, shyly. You practically see his tattooed arm raise to go behind his neck to shake through the back of his hair.

You didn’t have any plans to go to the gym for another 2 days Your sweaty clothes were still stuffed in your gym bag next to your front door. You hadn’t even bothered to put them in the laundry.

“Uh… I don’t have my gym clothes today.” You lean back in your chair.

Jungkook was unsure of how he was going to come off but he had to try. He really wanted to see you, he felt pathetic having a crush like this. Pursuing a crush like this.

“We have gym apparel here.” He says.

You almost scoff. Not meaning to come off as condescending. You try to disguise the scoff as a cough.

“I’m not really a gym girlie. So I’m not into buying gym clothes like that… I’ll be come in on Friday tho-“

He cuts you off.

“I’m looking at the system now and your membership actually expires tomorrow. You signed up for a 6 month contract and well… its been 6 months.” 

He was telling the truth, but he was coming off as desperate.

“Oh. Um, Its my lunch break right now, I guess I could quickly come in to renew. I’ll be there soon.”

You both mutter a quick farewell before ending the phone call.

“Sounds like he really wants to see you.”

You walk into the gym, feeling slightly uneasy dressed in your work clothes, your heels sinking into the padded floor. You immediately spot Jungkook who was currently with a client at one of the machines, a young woman who looked like she didn’t really need to be in the gym, but thats probably what hard work and dedication gets you. Results. He was dressed casually as always, a t-shirt and baggy shorts. This time a beanie encased his raven locks. You rip your gaze away from the two of them and head to the front desk. A young man greets you, you read his name tag ‘Namjoon’. He was tall, buff and oh so handsome. Was that the requirement to work at this gym?

How can I help you today?” Namjoon asks.

“Hi, I need to renew my membership.” You start.

The man smile, his dimple becoming more prominent with every tooth that displays.

“Sure, what’s your name?” His fingers ready to enter your information into the computer.

You give him your name, placing your handbag on to the counter to find your ID just incase.

Namjoon’s eyebrows reach his hairline and his yells for Jungkook. You’re startled at the sudden outburst. You look up at him in confusion. He gives you a curt smile before backing away from the counter and jogging over to Jungkook. You follow him with your eyes as he approaches Jungkook. You’re unable to hear their conversation as a count of the the loud music and the distance. You see Jungkook turn to his client and she dismounts from the machine and takes a swig of water. The two men exchange a few words before Jungkook heads your way. He approaches you with a gleaming smile on his face. You return a shy grin.

He jogs behind the counter.

“Is there a problem? Couldn’t Namjoon, is that his name? Couldn’t he do it?” You tilt your head in wonder.

Jungkook felt a pang of jealousy in his chest, he didn’t enjoy the fact that you seemed to want Namjoon to assist you when he was right there.

You notice his eyes flicker and his smile falter.

“You looked busy, I didn’t want to bother you.” You reach your hand out in defence.

His smile returns at its luminescence.

“Its no bother. I was expecting you.” Types in your information into the system and prints out a new contract. He quickly turns around to grab the sheet of paper from the printer. You take the time to admire his back, the image of his shirtless back flashing through your mind. 

Your thoughts are interrupted when he puts the contract down on the counter and gestures to the pen perched in it’s stand. He tells you where to sign. You quickly sign and date on the dotted line before handing it back to him.

“Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” He asks.

You’re taken aback by the sudden invite. 

Before you could respond, Jungkook’s client saunters over to the two of you.

“Kookie, are we going to finish the session?” She leans on the counter, and you take the opportunity to take a glance at her body. She had the physique of a dancer, or a model. She was definitely on someone’s (your) vision board.

You weren’t an overly insecure person, but thats was mostly because you kept to yourself  and limited your use of social media. But in times like these, when you unintentionally comparing yourself to another woman who was just simply existing in the presence of a good looking man. You wrap your blazer around your waist trying to shield your shape as you feel her eyes dart up and down your body.

“Yeah give me one second.” He doesn’t turn away from you.

Jungkook was about to open his mouth, when the lady interrupts;

“He’s really good. He’ll get you into shape in no time! He also offers meal plans, if he hasn’t told you already.” She gives you the once over one more time. 

You feel yourself fold in. Your shoulder slump and chest caves in. You suddenly become aware of your body and how different it was in comparison to all the people in the gym. In comparison to Jungkook, who was seemingly trying to ask you out right now. You thought of his intentions. Was he trying to garner more business for the gym? Was he going to take you out and suggest that you sign up for more PT sessions? Or maybe he was simply doing his job? And he asked all his clients out to dinner so he could monitor their eating habits?

Or MAYBE it was worse; and he got a kick of leading innocent woman into thinking they had a chance with men like him. And all the people at the gym knew it?

“Clara, I’ll be over in 5 minutes. Namjoon is gonna take over for a while.” He gestures over to Namjoon, who was leaning against a machine, patiently waiting for her to return.

She scoffs before walking away, making a point to sway her hips as she walks away. Jungkook rolls his eyes and looks back at you, a smile resting on his visage.

“Are you free tonight?” He asks, his eyes grow with hope.

The hope soon dissipates when he watches your face distort with uncertainty.

“Look, I don’t want you to go above and beyond for me. I just want to get used to coming to the gym first. Um… I know I’m not a supermodel but-.” He stops you.

“What?” He brows furrow in confusion. He runs through the past few minutes in his head and wonders where he may have misled you. He knew he sometimes had the misfortune of mixing up his words and confusing people, but he honestly didn’t think he mixed up his words this time. He barely spoke.

“I appreciate your help, but please don’t feel obliged to go outside the boundaries of the gym t-.” He cuts you off again.

“Boundaries?” He questions.

You swallow the hard lump that had formed in your throat, you already felt small, but you felt yourself becoming smaller.

“Yeah. I know you offer ‘meal plans’. But we don’t have to go out for dinner in order for you to sell them to me.” You choke out.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open.

“I-I. No.” Is all he can say.

“No?”

“No. I want to take you out because I like you. Well I like what I know of you. I want to get to know you. I think you’re gorgeous by the way.” The last part comes out under his breath.

You’re lost for words, you don’t know whether you should apologise or question his response.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wanted to wait until after our sessions were done so you didn’t get the wrong impression.” He looks down at his shoes.

You felt so bad, jumping to conclusions, you were the one who forced to ask you sooner. He was trying to make you comfortable, he never said anything about your appearance or made you feel any less than. You forced your insecurities on a really nice guy, who showed a little interest in you. 

“I’m sorry. Maybe I should get another trainer. And I’m-“ His gaze meets yours, eyes wide.

“No, no! I still want to be your trainer and take you out! I just hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression. I really like you.”

You shift in your spot, clutching your bag.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and taps the screens a few times. He shows you the screen.

“Look, if you don’t want to get dinner, which I understand. Lets go here. Its a painting cafe, its open til late night and they have drinks. Its really chill. You mentioned in our first session how you wanted yo do something creative, right?”

You smile,  he was seemingly trying so hard.

“Okay.” You say, coyly.

He beams.

“Okay?”

You nod.

“I’ll meet you outside at 6:30?” He locks his phone and slides it back into his pocket.

“Okay!” You smile before turning around and walking away.

This time, Jungkook watches you walk away, failing at containing the smile that had exploded on his face.

Jungkook knew his last client of the day felt rushed, he didn’t bother with the final stretches like he usually does, he didn’t even bother to jokingly flirt with the 75 year old woman like he usually did either. He aided her in putting the 2kg weights back on the rack before running into the men’s changing room, stripping and jumping into the shower. 

He scrubbed his body head to toe, making sure to get rid of the grime from the day.

Before he knew it, he was waiting outside of the building, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He catches a glimpse of his reflection and he immediately fixes his hair, one strand would not stay in its place, he knew he needed to use more hair gel. He should’ve asked Jimin if he could use a little more. 

Staring through the glass, he saw you coming, caught up in the crowd of people who were dying to get home. 

Finally, you come through the doors and walk up to him. You greet him brightly, hoping he can’t hear the nerves plaguing your voice.

He beams at you and asks about your day. He informs you that the place wasn’t too far away and was in walkable distance.

The start of the date was awkward, as expected, no more than a few words at a time being exchanged. He was ever the gentleman, before picking out a design for your canvases, he helped you  out with your apron. You fought to keep your knees from buckling as he came in close from behind to tie the back. You do the same for him, the height difference, between the two of you becoming ver present, as well as the broadness of his back.

The host lead you two a secluded room, as you both clutched your chosen designs in hand. The room was quite romantic, low lighting, except for the luminous light surging each easel. There was a table separating the two chairs, displaying the paint and the brushes. You glance at Jungkook and see the look of glee.

You both place the canvases on the easels and take your seats. The host, takes place in front of the two of you.

“You have 2 and a half hours, you are free to use all the material here. If you need anymore, please press the call button.” She gestures to the button, stuck to the end of the table, covered in the paint bottles.

She continues;

“This is an evening painting session, so we now serve wine at the bar. Selective dishes are also available to order. Coffee and snacks are still available. And… please refrain from any inappropriate behaviour, or you will be asked to leave and banned from the premise. We do have CCTV in each room.” She offers an awkward smile and swiftly leaves the room.

Jungkook hopes you don’t think that he brought you here for illicit reasons. Maybe you’d think he was one of those sleazy guys who take women to private rooms and try it on with them. Shit. You haven’t said anything. Shit. He hasn’t said anything. He’s been in his head for the past few seconds.

“I hope I’m not bad at this.” You say, breaking the silence, with a light laugh.

He turns to you and smiles, picking up a paintbrush and offering it to you. You take it and return the smile.

From then on, the date runs smoothly. You both decide to order a bottle of wine and share a plate of  pasta. One bottle turned into two, and the room was filled with laughter and stories. The misunderstandings of the afternoon long forgotten. Before you knew it, a voice came through a small speaker, you didn’t know was there, reminding you that you had 10 minutes left.

In a burst of tipsy laughter, the two of you hurriedly finish your paintings. 

Picking up your painting and Jungkook to the ‘drying station’, located, near the entrance. You both remove your paint covered aprons before attending to your paintings once again. You take a peek at his masterpiece before you flick on the hairdryer.

“How are you real?” You ask in disbelief.

He tilts his head in confusion.

“You look amazing, you’re nice, and you can paint. What can’t you do?” You giggle.

He laughs and shakes his head.

“No, no. I- You- I mean thank you. But I think the same about you.” He says quickly turning on his hairdryer, aiming it at his picture.

The hum of the machines fill the room, echoing your laughter that once filled your ears. Your ears, that were now flushed with flattery.

The hostess takes both paintings, wrapping them up carefully, and handing you both your respective bags. She taps on the register, reading off the total bill. You reach in your bag to find your card, yeah, it was a date, but you felt strange standing there as Jungkook paid for something that could’ve easily been a platonic date… Your thoughts are interrupted.

“Do you want the receipt?” 

“Huh?” The sound slipped out.

Jungkook looks at you before answering.

“No thank you. Thank you, have a nice evening.”  His free hand grabs yours and he guides you both outside.

So… not a platonic date then.

The street was much busier than it had been than when you had arrived. It was filled with people unwinding after a long day at work, ready for the weekend. It was also littered with loved up couples, holding hands, looking for places to eat, talking to each other about who knows what. If anyone were to look at the two of you, they would think you were one of those lovelorn couples. The way your hand fit in his, pace matching his, laughter mixing harmoniously with his.

“Thank you for tonight. I had so much fun.” You pull him to a stop, pulling him into a side road, away from the foot traffic.

Jungkook feels his heart swell, he was so happy. He felt like it went well, but to hear you say it? Made him feel like he was flying. To think that a few hours ago, it was all almost slipping away from him. He found himself drawn to you, he couldn’t explain it. He always believed that that’s how he’d find his ‘person’. It would just feel right. And it does.

“Me too. Thank you for giving me a chance.” He takes both your hand in his, eyes growing double in size.

You didn’t think it was possible for a man like him to look cute, but here he was, with his eyes shining, looking down at you. Looking as adorable as ever. You move closer, you were aware of your actions, but you also knew that the wine you drank was giving you the courage to do what you were about to do.

“I would like to k-“

“Yes.” A puff of air tickles your lips, as he closes his eyes.

He doesn’t feel anything.

He opens his eyes and steps back.

“Oh I’m sorry, I as-“

You pull him in and plant you lips on his. Its not perfect, you miss slightly, you feel his lips curl into smile. His hand leaves yours and meets your waist, bringing you in closer, he readjusts his lips on yours. His lip rings indenting into the plum flesh of your bottom lip. You have the sudden urge to feel it on your tongue. You swipe your tongue along his bottom lip, letting it tease the metal accessory for a few milliseconds before slipping it into his mouth. A low growl rumbles in his throat and he tangles is tongue with yours. Your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, fingers delving into the hair at the nape of his neck. His hand wonders from your waist to your lower back, fingers inching closer to your behind.

The sound of a throat clearing brings you to a halt.

You separate, the rustling of your bags, sounding like teens laughing at their peers being caught making out at a high school house party.

“We should uh… get going.” You say, using your fingers to wipe the saliva from your mouth. 

Jungkook licks his lips and nods. You were more than ready to go about being awkward and distant but that was never his plan, he grabs your hand and walks with you like he’d been kissing you like that.

He walks you back to the work building and calls you a taxi. You both bid each other a sweet goodnight, exchanging smiles and hugs before parting ways.

Jungkook makes sure to text you as soon as he watches your taxi drive down the road, telling you how much he enjoyed spending time and how he hopes he could do it sometime soon. 

Your heart jumps at the sound of your phone vibrating in your bag. It does backflips as your eyes take in his words. For the second time that evening you ask him;

You: How are you real? 😂 

He smiles to himself as he heads home, he snaps a quick picture of himself and sends it.

Jungkook 💕: Very real and all yours lol

He immediately regrets sending it. Fingers scrambling, he sends a second message.

Jungkook💕: If you’ll have me 🥴 

He must be playing a joke on you, right? What does this tall, handsome, funny, sweet PERSONAL TRAINER want with you? He’s seen you, right? He’s seen the other women who go to his gym, right? 

Jungkook looks at his message and sees the ‘1’ disappear. You read it. And you weren’t replying. He came on too strong. Great, he ruined the perfect evening.

Just as about he was about to type out an apology, your message pops up.

You: Do you have a fetish or something?

He furrows his eyebrows. Figuring texting is messing up true feelings, he presses the voice call button.

Your eyes widen when you see his name on your screen. You pick up.

“Hi.” 

“Hey. Fetish?” He gets right to it.

“Yeah. You know…” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

He stops walking, he sits on a bench.

“I don’t know. To be honest, I’m very confused.”

You felt so embarrassed. You let your insecurities get the best of you and sabotage this relationship before it had the chance to even start. 

“Jungkook. You’re you and…”

You pause. You feel your eyes water. 

“I’m me. I’m not in the best shape and I’m not skinny or have a perfect hourglass figure. I’m definitely  heavier than you.” You let out a dry laugh.

“I’m struggling to understand and believe that you like me. And that this isn’t some sort of sexual thing.” Your breath shakes.

Jungkook’s brows are now in permanent furrowed state, that never crossed his mind. Of course it didn’t because he didn’t think of you like that.

He says your name. It was different from the way you’ve heard it said by other guys before when you’ve brought up the same issue. He didn’t say with defeat or dipped in grease. It was usually followed by ‘you should take it as a compliment, I think big girls are sexy’. ‘I wanted to see what it was like’

Jungkook said nothing of the sort;

‘I’m me and you’re you. I like you. I like everything about you. Well, what I know so far, I want to know more. I want to go on more dates, I want to see where this goes. Hopefully it can go far. I’d really like that. And you may not understand why I like you, but you don’t have to right now, I’ll show you. I’m sorry if a guy has made you feel like you’re a plaything and not likeable. I wish I could punch him.”

You laugh.

“I like hearing you laugh. I want to be the reason for that. Thank you telling me how you feel and not just ghosting. I appreciate it. “ You could hear him smile through the phone.

He couldn’t be real. But you had to tell yourself he was or you’d fuck it up.

“Thank you for not being weirded out.” You sniffle.

He laughs.

“After kissing me like that? I’m locked in.”

2 months later

Jungkook was a very understanding and patient boyfriend. He must’ve gotten a lot of practice from his job as a personal trainer. He pushed you to try new things, go to new places, but he always made sure you were comfortable. He was a living manifestation of your dream man.

He had asked you to be his girlfriend during your 5th and final training session. You were stretching together, he had your leg stretched out and next to your head (definitely not gym approved), when he ‘popped the question’. You agreed very quickly and kissed him, only for the kiss to be interrupted by ‘Clara’, the client who was convinced that she was playing the long game with Jungkook.

She lets out a loud gasp before storming out of the room.

“I think I may have lost you a client. Sorry.” You giggle.

He pecks your lips and releases your leg.

“But I gained a girlfriend.

Jungkook invites you over for a movie night after work on a Friday night. He’s ever the gentleman, he waits outside the building, takes your bag and holds your hand the entire walk  to his house. You had been over to apartment on several occasions. But never for an overnight stay, for a moment or two before heading out. You head to the bathroom, taking your overnight bag, you wash off your makeup, change out of work clothes and into a oversize shirt and sleep shorts. Neatly folding your clothes back into your bag, you head back out into the living room.

He looks up at you as you place your bag under the breakfast bar.

“You look cute.” He smiles, cutting up strawberries into a bowl.

You walk up next to him, your brushing up his broad back and wrapping around his waist. You kiss his cheek.

“Thank you.” You kiss his jaw.

You were both quite wary when it came to physical intimacy, you’d cuddle, hold hands and occasionally kiss, but things were moving very slowly. You wondered if he was even attracted to you (you tried to push the bad thoughts to the back of your head) , as he rarely ever initiated contact. You were still trying to come across has chill and nonchalant, but the truth was… you were horny. You wanted to jump his bones every time you saw him, he was gorgeous. He had been bragging about a delicious dish that he learned to make, and how excited he was to show you. You were a bit reluctant about accepting the invite, you’d been to his apartment before, but for only a few minutes at a time.  You had never spent time with him in his house with access to a bed.

You help him cook, despite him telling you to sit down. You both sit down and enjoy the meal, sharing laughs and stories from the day. After eating, you wash up together, feeling very domestic.

Drying your hands, you shyly you ask;

“Should we watch a movie?” 

Jungkook dries the last bowl and smiles, that shy smile that you adored so much.

“Sure, the remote is on the couch. Pick whatever.”

You place the dish towel down ever so carefully, the silence lingering in air before you speak.

“I uh was thinking we could uh watch it in your bedroom. If you’re comfortable of course.” You pick the towel up once more, wringing it in your hands, palms turning red.

He notices your hesitation, places the bowl in the cabinet, gently pulls the towel out of your hands and wraps his arms around you. You immediately relax into the hug.

“Don’t be nervous to ask for things like that. I want to cuddle with you wherever. It’ll be nice.”

Before you knew it, you were under the sheets with Jungkook on top of you, lips locked, legs too, entangled in a heated position. One arm was around his neck and one was around his tiny waist, sneaking up his shirt. He moaned into the kiss, the deep guttural sound causing a pool arousal to soak your underwear. His large hand had naturally made its way on to your breasts, he has growled at the feeling of your braless tits in his hand. His other hand was above you, resting on the pillow. He let his body rest on you a little, increasing your temperature ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth, feeling something firm pressed against your stomach. He kisses your lips once more before moving to your cheek, down to your jaw and then your neck, sucking your skin slightly. You weren’t a particularly vocal person in bed, but his actions were making hard for you to keep quiet, involuntary whines escaping your body.

“I-I’m h-hot.” You whimper.

He smirks.

“Yeah, you are.”

You snort.

“No~ I’m literally hot, can we take off the blanket?” 

“Oh.” He laughs and flips the blanket off, rolling to the side of you, leaning on his elbow.

He stares at you. Before you could ask a question, his lips are on yours again. His hand cups your jaw. You kiss him back fervently, your hand

He pulls away, lips a hairbreadth from yours. His hand travels down your body, caressing your breast, squeezing your waist. Which makes you tense up. Your waist and stomach were areas that you were self conscious about, it felt like he was squeezing your flaws. 

Think about something else. Thinking about something else.

He feels you go stiff.

“Are you okay?” He asks, lips pink and swollen.

You nod.

“Just touch me.” You grab his hand and place it on your waistband.

He bites his lips, without breaking eye contact, his fingers disappear into your shorts. He touches you over your panties first. He moans at the feeling of the soaked material.

“You’re so wet. All for me?” He smirks, eyebrows raised.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as he moves your panties to the side and his thumb meets your clit, fingers gliding over your folds. He takes his time before curling his long fingers into you, causing your to moan out in pleasure, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He slowly fucks his fingers into you. The room is filled with the crude wet sound of your heat and the murmur of the voices of the long forgotten movie playing on TV.

You’ve never sounded like this before, unintelligible sounds tumbling from your lips as he pumps his digits in and out, hitting that place deep inside you.

“Y-your’e gonna make me c-“ You kiss him and place your hand on his bulge that had been growing.

He hisses, bucking into your hand. He takes his fingers out of you and hurriedly removes your shorts and underwear. You barely have time to think when his mouth meets your centre. His thick tongue licks you up, sucking on your pearl, like the best candy he’s ever tasted in his life. Your hands shoot out to grab his hair as you shake. You grunt out his name as you cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head, you try to catch your breath.

Jungkook rises to his knees and rips off his shirt, you catch a glimpse of his adonis like body before his kisses you. How were you in bed with someone who looks like that? Even though you had just felt like jelly, your brain tells your body to tense up. You kiss him back, trying your best to push the thoughts away, but as your hand feel up his toned, muscular physique, it was getting harder to fight them away.

Jungkook feels you tense under his touch. He pecks your lips before pulling away.

“Are you okay?”  He asks, brown eyes glistening.

You nod and try to push the intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind. He raises his eyebrows, non verbally questioning you. You nod once again and presses your lips against his. He moans and kisses you back passionately. His hands wonder again, gripping your waist and pulling you closer to him. Your muscles tense once again. He feels you go stiff, he pulls away again.

Your eyes remain closed, scared to look at him. You’ve really fucked up now, he probably thinks you’re weird, and he probably regrets giving a ‘fat’ girl a chance.

“You’re not okay. Tell me what’s wrong baby.” He moves closer to you and brushes hair out of your face, but then he quickly retracts.

“Do you not want me to touch you?” 

You open your eyes, not daring to look at him, your stare tasering in on every detail of his bedroom ceiling.

“I’m sorry if I m-“

“No! I just have- I’m just… All I keep thinking of is what you must think.”

He looks at you puzzled.

“What I think?”

You take a deep breath and sit up, pulling your legs into yourself.

“You must’ve been with girls who have insane bodies, and you work at a gym for god’s sake! And now you’ve got to tolerate me. I don’t wanna put you off by taking off my shirt.” You ramble.

Jungkook barely keeps up with your words, he wants to grab you and tell you that you’re beautiful, and that he is more than attracted to you. But he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, you were literally telling him how you were uncomfortable you were with him touching you. Well, you didn’t say that explicitly but he didn’t want to push you further.

Him just sitting there was making you more anxious, maybe he had been hiding his true feelings. He did find you repulsive, maybe he was being kind and didn’t know how to let you down gently. 

Without sparing a glance his way, you attempt to get off the bed. He stops you, hand gently landing one your thigh. You stare down at his tattooed fingers, slightly gripping, leaving dents in your skin.

“Don’t go. I think you’re gorgeous. L-like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. That I’ve ever had the privilege to meet, to date, to kiss… To touch.”

You scoot back on the bed, eyes never leaving his.

“N-now I understand if you don’t wanna stay the night anymore, but.. I really want you to stay. And we don’t have to do anything, I won’t even touch you. I can sleep on the couch if that would make you more comfortable.”

He moves his hand towards your face, fingertips hovering over your cheek, scared to brush your hair out of your face.

“Even if you want to leave, please don’t leave thinking that I don’t want you or that I’m not attracted to you. You are perfect to me and it sucks that guys have made you feel like you aren’t the most beautiful woman in the world. “

You look into his eyes and you can feel his sincerity. You lean into his open hand, letting his palm warm your cheek. 

“I-i want you to touch me. I want you to want to touch me.”

Jungkook grabs your face and kisses you.

“I do want to touch you. I want to do more than that. But I want you to feel more than comfortable with that.”

You kiss him, deepening the kiss before he even has the chance to pull away. You wrap your arms around his neck and you fall back, pulling him on top of you.

He rolls you both onto your sides and places his hands firmly on your hips. He moans into your mouth, sending heart down between your legs. You clench around nothing and rub your legs together, in an attempt to relieve yourself.

Jungkook’s hand brushes your thigh, as if he was asking for an invitation inside. You spread to let him in, his fingertips once again dance along your folds, becoming slick with arousal. He toys with your hardening nub, making you twist and turn. His mouth detaches from yours and land on your neck. He licks and kisses a spot that makes it impossible to keep quiet. Your arms wrap around his body, nails digging into the taut skin of his back. His fingers tease your opening before plunging in deep. His fingers move smoothly and quickly, pulling egregious noises from your lips. He feels you tighten around his fingers.

“Are you gonna cum for me again? Soak my fingers?” He whispers in your ear.

You feel a burning flash run through your body as you let go and experience release. You come undone and as you do, he presses his lips against yours, licking into your mouth. He gently pulls his fingers out of you and brings his fingers to his lips, alternating between kissing you and tasting your release.

Breath heavy, you snake your hand down between your bodies, fingers brushing his hardness in his boxers. He shudders. It had been a while since he had had sex. People perceived him as a hardcore fuckboy but he was truly the opposite. He wanted to be in a relationship, truthfully, that’s the only way he could cum, knowing the person beneath him was ‘his’.

“I don’t think I’m gonna last. I-I’m sorry.” He breathes out.

You smirk before pushing him back onto the bed and kneeling next to him. You bend at the waist and place a kiss over his boxers. His breathing gets heavier, chest heaving, abs clenching.

You palm his length before pulling him out and taking him into your mouth. You both moan as you sink deeper and feel him it the back off your throat. You suck gently, pulling off to lick at his tip.

His hand lands on the back off your head, slowly coming around to stroke your cheek. You maintain eye contact as you bob up and down. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he throws his arm over his eyes, unable to control his body as the pleasure takes over. 

Suddenly, he gently pulls your hair, forcing you off of him.

“I’m gonna cum. I wanna feel you.” He confesses.

He sits up and reaches over to open his bedside table draw. You watch as he pulls out a foil packet. Expertly, he rips it open and slides the condom over his length. He turns back to you, encouraging you to lay back on the bed.

You lay back, and part your legs. He lines up with your core and gently pushes in. He hisses out a few curse words as he feels. You tighten around him. He almost collapses with how good it feels.

“So fucking tight.” He says through gritted teeth.

His grip on your hips tightens as he rocks back and forth. His tip hitting a spot in you that makes you scream in pleasure. He leans over you, encouraging you to hold on to him.

You both find a steady rhythm, moans reaching a crescendo as you explode. He follows shortly after, you feel the warm fill the condom. He rolls off you and next to you on the bed. 

“Y-you are so sexy. Fuck.” He breathes out, chest heaving.

You laugh and turn to look at him.

“Thank you. I think you are too.” You reach out and brush his slightly damp hair out of his face. The angles of his chiseled face glisten more with the assistance of the tin layer of sweat that had formed on his skin.

He scoots closer to you and pecks your lips before getting up to get rid of the soiled condom that has become baggy with the deflation of his length.

You watch his figure as he heads into the bathroom.

You sigh a sigh of happiness. You might never be completely happy with yourself but you hope you can be happy with him and learn to love yourself as much as he might.

Hope you enjoyed this! Once again, no mean message please :)

[emmylksblog]

H.FORT BF HEADCANONS!

based on this request

a/n: extra long to feed you girlies cuz i ain't uploading any soon, writing just takes my whole day and not gonna lie drains all my energy :(

hope it doesn’t disappoint! stay safe yall 🫶🏻

⚽︎ bf! hector doesn't have time for long skincare routines between games and practices. His own routine was a quick rinse with water and a bar of soap. But watching you spend at least an hour every night made him memorize the process without even noticing.

Whenever you come home after a long day, completely exhausted, I imagine hector insisting on doing your skincare for you.

⚽︎ bf! hector would always be the big spoon. He took great pride in being protective of you, and cuddling was just an extension of that role. But on nights when he would feel particularly vulnerable, like after a brutal loss on the field, Hector would flip around and let you hold him instead.

⚽︎ bf! hector would never leave for training without giving you a goodbye kiss. Even if you're still asleep, he'll pause next to the bed, gently smooth your hair from your face and brush his lips against your forehead. It's a small gesture, but he knows he won't be able to see you until much later in the day.

⚽︎ bf! hector would be the type to keep a hair tie on his wrist at all times. You were infamous for forgetting to bring one with you whenever you left the house, and once your hair became a tangled mess, it would annoy you endlessly. To prevent any potential tantrums, Hector took it upon himself to always have a hair tie at the ready whenever you two were together.

And yes, it also had the added benefit of signaling to all the other women in the room that he was taken. He liked that even better.

⚽︎ bf! hector would love to brush your teeth together. He enjoyed starting and ending the day with you in that quiet, intimate moment. Sometimes he would even sulk a little if you did it without him.

"You started without me?" he would complain, pouting a bit as he picked up his own toothbrush.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would adore to spend time with your family. He especially would enjoy playing football with your siblings, as it would allow him to show off a little and get them excited about the sport. Your siblings would usually end up worshipping him within minutes of starting a game, especially when he'd let them score on him occasionally. He'd always make a point to ruffle their hair or give them an encouraging high-five afterward.

hector had never had siblings of his own, but that didn't stop him from instantly bonding with yours.

⚽︎ bf! hector who seems unable to keep his hands off you when he's driving. He always has his arm around your shoulders or is holding your hand. Sometimes he even caresses your thighs while he's driving. He simply can't go for too long without touching you. It's like a need for him to feel your skin against his and know you're close.

⚽︎ bf! hector who pretends to be cool and collected when you attend his games, but deep down, he's absolutely thrilled to have your support. He puts on a poker face, trying to maintain his tough-guy image, but in reality, he loves it when you cheer him on.

His favorite part is when you wear his jersey. Seeing you in his colors, proudly showing everyone that you're his biggest supporter.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would always look out for you, especially when you're wearing high heels. Once your feet start screaming in pain, he'll immediately notice and sweep you into his strong arms.

"I can't have my girlfriend suffering on my watch,"

⚽︎ bf! hector would be your biggest supporter in your career endeavors. He would encourage you to go after whatever goals you had and would do his best to help support you in any way he could.

After long study sessions, he'd insist on giving you massages to work out the aches and knots that had formed in your back.

⚽︎ bf! hector who is a fiercely independent person, not one to rely on others for much. But with you, he would allow himself to be vulnerable.

He would love it when you pampered him, especially when it came to his hair and face. Only you had the privilege of touching his skin so intimately. Whenever you'd stroke his cheek or run your fingers through his hair, he'd lean into it, his eyes fluttering closed. He knew he could relax and let you take care of him.

⚽︎ bf! hector who is a disaster in the kitchen (pls that man can't cook to save his life, if you have seen the video of him and cubarsi you will agree with me). Even boiling water was a challenge for him. But when you got sick, he wanted to take care of you, even if he didn't know how.

He called his mom for help, determined to prepare something nourishing and healing for you. Unfortunately, his culinary skills proved to be woefully lacking, and his attempt at the dish was more "creative adaptation" than actual recipe. It didn't taste great, but the gesture was heartfelt, and you appreciated his effort.

⚽︎ bf! hector who has a weakness for your collarbone. Every time he kissed it, you'd let out a little giggle or squeak, and it was music to his ears. He relished the fact that he could make you laugh with just a simple action.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would have unwavering trust in you. He would value your opinion above anyone else's and take your advice to heart, believing that your wisdom was unmatched.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would make sure to hold your hand, as if afraid that you might slip away from him in the crowd.

Whether you were attending a fancy gala or grabbing coffee at a local café, it was always the same - his larger hand would instinctively reach out for yours, lacing your fingers together tightly. He took comfort in the warmth of your touch, and the knowledge that you were right there beside him.

⚽︎ bf! hector would gladly tag along when you hit the gym on his days off. His true motivator for agreeing to go was definitely to watch you work out, admiring the way your body moved and how you pushed yourself to your limits.

However, he would always throw in a few exercises for himself as well. After all, he couldn't let you have all the fun, could he? And who knows, the extra cardio might just come in handy later...

⚽︎ bf! hector who is a playful partner (i know he is and you can't tell me otherwise), and one of his favorite ways of messing with you was biting you to get your attention. He would nibble on your earlobe or your neck, just hard enough to get a reaction.

But oh, the tease didn't stop there. Once he had your attention, he'd act completely nonchalant, like he hadn't just been biting you for cuddles. He'd lean back with a smug grin on his face, feigning ignorance about what had just happened.

⚽︎ bf! hector who can't resist pampering you, especially when it comes to your nails. Every time you'd get a manicure, he'd insist on paying for it, claiming it was an investment in his own comfort.

He absolutely loved the feeling of your manicured nails scratching gently against his scalp, massaging his head and sending tingles down his spine.

⚽︎ bf! hector who is a waist boy through and through. Once he had his hands on your waist, he rarely let go.

⚽︎ bf! hector who adores your hair. He would love the way it looked, whether it was flowing freely down your back or pulled up in a neat bun.

He would often find excuses to reach out and touch it, running his fingers through the strands or absentmindedly twirling a lock around his finger. He would bury his face in your hair when he hugged you, inhaling your scent and letting the silky smoothness of your locks caress his skin.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would turn to his mother when he found himself in hot water with you. Whenever you two had a disagreement or you were upset with him, he would seek the counsel of his mom.

In the end, his mother would always encourage him to swallow his pride and apologize to you, no matter who had started the argument.

⚽︎ bf! hector can't stand being on your bad side. He hated feeling disconnected from you, and the idea of you giving him the silent treatment was torturous.

He would do just about anything to get you speaking to him again, even if it meant being the one to cave and apologize first. He missed the sound of your voice, and he'd do anything to hear it again.

⚽︎ bf! hector who can't help but gush about you in front of his friends and teammates.

"Man, do you ever shut up about her?" Marc would tease him, pretending to be annoyed. "We get it, She's great."

But no matter how much he teased Hector, it wouldn't stop the smitten footballer from talking about you.

⚽︎ bf! hector who loves imitating you, often teasingly mimicking your mannerisms and expressions just to get a rise out of you.

You'd respond with a swift punch to his arm, trying to hide your embarrassment as he chuckled at your reaction. Despite the mock annoyance, deep down, you couldn't help but be endeared by his antics.

⚽︎ bf! hector who exudes a natural air of dominance, but is always willing to let you take the lead when the mood strikes you.

⚽︎ bf! hector who is a passionate fan of Anuel, and typically had no tolerance for those who weren't. But you were the exception.

He tried to convert you many times, but your music taste leaned more towards pop and r&b. Despite his best efforts, you just couldn't get into Anuel's music.

Hector might grumble and complain about your apparent lack of culture, but deep down, he forgave you for it. After all, he loved you more than his favorite artist.

(i think this is just a reflection of how i think, but as a spanish i don't like anuel lmao)

⚽︎ bf! hector who loves seeing your face whenever he pulls out his phone. He had a picture of you set as his wallpaper, and he also had your baby photo in his phonecase.

(idk if that’s weird but couples do it where i live)

⚽︎ bf! hector who loves seeing you in his hoodies. There was something about your petite frame engulfed in his oversized clothing that made him feel extra protective of you.

⚽︎ bf! hector who would consider you his life partner. He sees you as his other half, the person who completes him in every way. He trusts you implicitly and can't imagine facing the world without you by his side.

[anyarose011]

The Most "Wonderful" Time of the Year {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: Despite a nice trip to the art gallery and ice skating rink, sometimes, Andy Williams just gets it wrong.

Part 8 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Swearing, description of nudity (on art), suggestive conversations, minor sexual harassment, a father has issues, fighting, Reader has a knife, and ANGST.

Heyyy guys (senior year, once again, has been kicking my ass and I also started a new mini-series that should be done soon). Again, I'm so sorry for how long it took me to upload and write this, and I know this chapter is short, but I swear it's got good shit in it. It's also fitting to have more chapters around Christmas time since, you know, this be a Christmas movie (yes, Alexander Payne, this can be a standalone movie, but you set it during Christmas so....) Anywho, I hope you like it (and that it breaks your heart :)

Word Count: 5.5k

You hated to admit it, but you actually like history museums. Even though your father always dragged you to them from childhood to adulthood, you didn’t really mind them. Your father’s additional commentary only added to the experience as you walked through the Greek section. It didn’t really for Angus.

“Are we almost done?” He asked.

“Quit whining.” You reprimanded him.

“I’m not.”

Your father chuckled. “What’s your hurry? I thought you liked Antiquity?”

He sighed. “In class, maybe. But I never think about it unless I need to.”

Humming, your father pointed to a casing of ceramics behind you. “Here, what do you see?”

You and Angus turned. Of course, he said. “A bunch of pottery.”

“Look at that one.” He pointed.

You certainly weren’t expecting to see a man diving his dick into a woman as she bent over to pick something up on an ancient Grecian artifact, but there you were in the Boston Fine Arts Museum, jaw on the floor.

“Amy look, a Candy Cane!” Angus teased.

“I hate you.” Was all that managed to leave your lips.

Your father chuckled, shaking his head. “Children, there’s nothing new in human experience. Each generation thinks it invented debauchery or suffering or rebellion, but man’s every appetite and impulse, from the disgusting to the sublime, is on display right here, all around you.” He gestured around the room filled with art. “So, before you dismiss something as boring or irrelevant, remember that if you truly want to understand the present, or yourself, you must begin in the past. History is not merely the past; it’s an explanation of the present.”

Angus nodded. “See, when you say it that way, and throw in some pornography, it’s a lot easier to understand.”

Mr. Hunham glanced over at you, surprised at your lack of outburst. “You’re not going to comment on that?”

“No,” you shrugged. “porn helping men understanding things checks out.”

Angus snorted, turning back to the teacher. “You should try talking more and yelling less in class. You know, most of the kids pretty much hate you. Teachers, too. You know that, right?”

“Hey.” You glared at him as if to say, ‘Lay off’.

Your father nodded, obviously trying not to show the hurt that was apparent on his face. “Well, I appreciate your frequent candidness, Mr. Tully.”

“Sure…” He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked down.

It was then you realized another thing about Angus Tully that reminded you about yourself: You only noticed how horrible your words were as soon as you were done saying them.

The rest of your time at the art museum wasn’t as awkward as that entire scene, thankfully. The sun had completely set by the time you had exited, and the three of you made your way to the park. It almost made you laugh how quick Angus was to the booth to rent ice skates.

“Have you been ice skating before?” He asked as you both sat on the bench, tying up your skates.

“Once when I was eight, I think. You?”

“I played hockey until high school.” He finished tying his and stood. “And I go every chance I get when I’m in the city.”

“So, you should only fall if I push you, right?”

“Right.”

You smiled after double knotting your ice skates and approached the entrance to the rink. “My feet feel weird.”

“Yeah, you haven’t been skating for almost ten years.” He teased, walking past you and standing on the ice with ease.

Sighing, you took a step out and immediately started flailing. Still, the two of you laughed when you retreated back to solid ground. “Nope.”

Angus begged. “Come on.”

“Nuh uh, not going to do it.”

“Your dad paid a good two dollars for us to skate, and you’re going to waste it?” He joked.

“Two dollars doesn’t mean anything to my father if I’m dead!”

“You’re not going to die.”

“But-.”

He said your name with the right amount of sincerity and playfulness. “You can hold onto me. I’ll cushion you if you do fall.”

Grinning from ear to ear, you still held onto the side railing, but stepped out onto the ice. Taking a deep breath, you began walking.

“You don’t want to do that.” Angus skated by your side at your pace.

“I’m alright.” You struggled to say.

He scoffed, holding out his hand. “Yeah, I can tell. Come on.”

You stared down at it as if he had never touched you before. Still, you took it. You expected him to pull you out into the center and leave you there for dead (or try to figure out how to skate on your own), but instead, you stayed by the wall.

“Okay, you’re gonna want to lean forward, and just glide; don’t walk.” He explained, showing you.

“I’ll fall.”

“No, you won’t. Just trust me.”

Against what your nervous system was saying, you decided to. Leaning forward, you tried to copy him; and it worked for like a few seconds before you started tripping over your own feet. He caught you, of course.

“Hey, not bad!” He held you up so you could stand.

“I almost died.”

“You’re standing on your own though!” He backed away, and you still were. “That’s a good start.”

You wanted to fire a nasty retort at him, but you could only girlishly giggle. You don’t know how long you spent on that ice skating rink with him. Yes, there would be times when your feet would ache, or you’d be a mix of sweaty from the physical labor of skating and freezing from the cold, Massachusetts air. Yet, as you finally gathered your footing, you felt as if you could compete in the next Olympics.

You couldn’t, of course, but you sure had the confidence to do so.

And it was fun to laugh and talk with Angus. It always was, but it felt as if you were both on an actual date as you skated together. To everyone else on that ice rink, you were. When Angus had completely fallen onto the ice (you didn’t actually push him down, he fell on his own), pulling you down with him, you’d nearly forgotten that your father was chaperoning you two as you laughed.

After leaving the rink and taking your skates back, you walked up a set of stairs with your father and Angus, discussing where to go for dinner when-.

“Paul Hunham, is that you?!” A man and a woman approached the three of you with a gleeful look. “It’s Hugh. Hugh Cavanaugh.”

Your father’s face fell for just a moment before laughing. “Yes! Yes, of course. Wow, Hugh Cavanaugh. Oh, how are you, Hugh?”

“Oh God, what’s it been? Thirty years?” He turned to the woman beside him. “Oh, uh this is my wife, Karen. Honey, this is Paul Hunham; we went to Harvard together.”

She smiled, shaking his hand, then yours, then Angus’. “Hello.”

“Yes,” your dad nodded at Hugh’s comment. “yes we did. Uh, wow; what have you been up to, Hugh? Still in the area?”

“Oh, uh, yes-yes I’m still in Boston. Cambridge.”

“Harvard.” Karen said proudly. “He just got tenure, statistics. He won’t blow his own horn, I have to blow it for him.”

“Okay,” Hugh said to change the subject. “what about you, Paul?”

“Oh, still teaching, we have that in common.” He nodded. “History, ancient history.”

“That’s great, that’s great. Where?”

“Abroad mostly.” Your father lied through his teeth on each word. “On fellowships. Privately funded fellowships. Universities and private academies. Mostly fellowships, you know. I’m currently posted in Antwerp. Just back here for the holidays.”

“So, are these your kids?” He pointed to you and Angus.

“Well-.”

“-I’m his nephew, Laurie.” Angus cut in, then looked at you. “This is my cousin, Amy.”

Karen smiled. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

Hugh squinted his eyes as if to see you more clearly. Then, he chuckled. “Paul, do you know who she looks like?”

Your father hummed. “I would hope me.”

It was weird to hear your mother’s full name come out of a stranger’s mouth. He went on. “Do you see it? Same nose, same hair; you are the spitting image of beauty, young lady.”

Snickering, you didn’t even think of thanking him. “I’ve been told I have more of her temper than her looks. Although, our mouths are the same.”

“I have no doubt.” He laughed. “Paul, do you remember that one time freshman year?”

“Oh yes!” Your father pretended to. “When she-it was that one time during Roman history when Nolan-.”

“-Wouldn’t call on her when she was the only one to raise her hand,” Hugh looked back at you as if you didn’t know the story from the set up. “so she fed all the boys in the room the wrong answers for the rest of the class!”

“Yep,” Mr. Hunham nodded. “even I fell victim to it.”

Hugh was the only one who had relatively been amused by the fable. “Never put you and her together.”

“A lot of people didn’t.”

The group fell into a strange silence after that. Thank God for Angus Tully.

“He’s writing a book now.” He titled his head toward your father. “Tell them about your book, Uncle Paul.”

“My book.” Your father snickered, then immediately played it off. “It’s not a book, really. Just a monograph. Nothing special.”

You decided to jump in. “Don’t be so modest, dad. It’s about, uh, cameras, right? Ancient cameras?”

Hugh hummed, a quizzical look on his face.

“What she means, of course, is the camera obscura.” Your father explained. “You know, the optical and astronomical tool that dates back to, um, the time of Anaxagoras.

“Tell him the title, Uncle Paul.” Angus went back, and you masked your smile for one of curiosity and not at the misfortune of your father.

“He’s not interested, Laurie.”

Hugh smiled. “Sure, I am.”

Sighing, Paul Hunham said with the perfect amount of enthusiasm and disinterest. “Lights and Magic in the Ancient World.”

Hugh nodded before turning back to his wife, and then to your father, clasping his hand on his shoulder. “Well, Paul, I’m so glad you landed on your feet. You look swell.”

“You too. So, swell.”

“I’m sorry about your mother, Amy.” He said to you.

Thinning your lips in a tight smile, you said. “Thanks.”

Him and Karen walked away hand in hand, but he turned over his shoulder. “And we’ll keep an eye out for your book, Paul. Won’t we, honey?”

 She nodded. Of course. Merry Christmas, Paul. Bye, Laurie and Amy.”

You all wished them ‘Merry Christmas’ as you three also left. Angus wasted no time turning to you.

“What the fuck just happened?!”

“You’re asking me?!” You matched him. “You sprung into ‘Tell them about your book, Uncle Paul!’, ‘What’s the title, Uncle Paul?’.”

“I had to think of something!”

Your father sighed. “I appreciated your efforts, but I would’ve been fine on my own.”

Rolling your eyes, you asked. “Can we get dinner now?”

“I need to pick something up from the liquor store first.”

Sighing overdramatically, you and Angus stumbled behind your father. That was when you looked at the boy beside you. “Also, Laurie and Amy? Really?”

“What? They’re like brother and sister. If I said you were Jo, then that would’ve been weird.”

Oh my god, he wasn’t even halfway through the book.

You wish you had a camera solely to capture the look on your father’s face as he turned over and stared at both of you. You wonder if that was when he found out about you and Angus.

Shaking your head, you didn’t know whether to laugh or scoff as you said. “Unbelievable.”

“What do you mean ‘unbelievable’?” Angus questioned. “Jo and Laurie get married in the end, right?”

“Unbelievable.” You repeated but smiled this time.

“Right?!”

Your father sighed as you finally made it to the store. “Look, the fact of the matter is, what happened, happened, and we should just pretend it didn’t.”

Angus furrowed his brow as you all walked in. “I thought Barton men don’t lie. Don’t get me wrong, that was fun, but you just lied through your teeth.”

He held up his hand, not having it. “What I say during a private conversation is none of your goddamn business. You’re not to judge me.”

“It wasn’t a private conversation; your daughter and I were there. Besides, he brought her into it.”

“I’m right here.” You announced yourself.

“Why’d he ask if you landed on your feet?”

Your father glanced up from searching through the shelves. “What is this, Nuremberg?”

“You’re the hardass constantly telling everybody not to lie and going on about the honor code!”

Looking up at both of you, Paul Hunham sighed. “There was an incident at Harvard with my roommate.”

You gave him a look. “I’ve never heard this story before.”

“He accused me of copying from his senior thesis. Plagiarizing.”

“Well, did you?” Angus asked.

“No! He stole from me.” Your father relented. “But that blue-blooded prick’s family had allies on the faculty. I mean, their last name is on a library, so he accused me in order to sanitize his treachery. And they threw me out.”

“Holy shit,” you breathed. “you got kicked out for cheating?”

“No, I got kicked out of Harvard for hitting him.”

Angus asked. “You hit him? Like punched him out?”

“No, I hit him with a car.”

“You got kicked out of Harvard for hitting a guy with a car?!”

“By accident,” he approached the counter, talking to the cashier. “Pint of Jim Beam, please.”

You piped up, still in astonishment. “Mom said you left because your grandma was dying.”

“She was, it was just perfect timing to go and help take care of her.” He shrugged. “But my roommate broke three ribs. Which was technically his fault, because he shouldn’t have been in the road.

“Two dollars, please.” The cashier said.

Your father took his wallet out, continuing his story. “Also, he shat himself; which was the greatest indignity.”

The cashier handed him the wrapped-up bottle. “Here you go, killer.”

You couldn’t help your laughter at the sudden statement. As the three of you left and walked down the darkened, cold roads, Angus said.

“So, Mr. Hunham never even graduated college? Holy shit, you didn’t even finish up somewhere else? Who else knows?”

“Did mom even know about you hitting the guy?” You asked.

Your father nodded. “Of course she knew! She gave me an earful on the phone the first time she called me after I left. It was only Dr. Greene who knew it after that. He’d always believed in me, so he gave me a job. Adjunct faculty: zero respect and even less pay, so nobody batted an eye, and I’ve been at the school ever since.”

“Are you ashamed at how things turned out?” Angus questioned.

“Not at all. I’m proud of my work, I love history, I married the smartest and kindest woman on the planet, I helped raise a spitfire of a girl, I love Barton. Barton is my life now. I don’t know what I’d do without it.”

“Then why did you lie to that guy?”

“Because I knew he’d relish the fact that I’m a washout and never left my own high school. And he’d probably repeat that story to everybody we used to know. So, I figured he’s not entitled to my story. I am. “

Angus nodded. “Yeah. Fuck that guy.”

“Exactly. Fuck that guy!”

“Fuck him, I hope his car slides on black ice and crashes into a lamp post.” You chimed in.

“Woah,” Angus gasped.

Your father said your name scoldingly.

“What?” You scoffed. “It was weird as hell when he talked to me about my mom like he knew me.”

“I’ll admit it was strange and unnecessary.” Your father tossed his arm around your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He looked at both you and Angus. “But you’ll keep this quiet, right? No one is to know.”

“Entre nous, sir.” Angus nodded. “Entre nous.”

Your father nodded then chuckled, poking you. “‘Ancient cameras’. Where’d the hell you come up with that?”

“I tried my best!” You whined. After the men ceased in their laughter, you then said. “Can we please get dinner now?”

“Alright, alright.” Your father snorted. “Where would you like to go for your absolutely atrocious food concoction?”

“South Street.”

“I figured.”

And that is where the three of you went. It shouldn’t have surprised you it was packed the day after Christmas, which was also a Saturday. It had to have been a miracle you managed to get in line only when it was starting to go out the door; a few minutes after you arrived, the line had started to curve around to the nearest streetlight.

The diner was filled with life once you got in; families pushing tables together, friends absolutely drunk off their asses laughing, even half of the staff seemed to be enjoying the sheer joy from others. Of course, a few were understandably stressed and annoyed from the number of customers and their behavior.

The three of you were soon sitting at a booth. When Angus sat close to the window, instead of sliding into the seat across from him, you took the one beside him. Leaving your father alone on the other side. To ordinary people, it perhaps didn’t mean anything; but you still felt as if it was a signal.

“I can’t believe they’re still playing Christmas music.” Your father grumbled as The Ronettes sang about a sleigh ride and he slipped off his jacket.

You giggled, copying him. “It was just yesterday.”

“I know, but still.”

“I like this song, thank you very much.”

He held up his menu as if to hide his disgust. You and the boy beside you chucked as Angus said. “I feel like I’ve been here before.”

“You don’t know if you have?” You asked.

“It feels familiar. Maybe when I was a kid?”

“We’d always come here when we’d visit Boston.” You looked at your father. “The owner gave me a free banana split when I turned twelve, he knew us so well, right?”

That managed to pull a laugh out of him. “That he did. If he’s here tonight maybe you could get a free dinner for us.”

You and Angus looked down at the menu before you, and soon enough, an exhausted waitress came by to take your drink orders and lay down silverware. Immediately, you asked for French fries and your favorite milkshake.

“There’s no way that’s going to be good.” Angus pointed out.

“Oh, ye of little faith.” You scoffed.

“That’s not faith, that’s fact.”

“What you’re speaking of is an opinion, not even a theory. If you ever want to make it in this world, I suggest you learn the different between those two before you can even begin to comprehend what an actual fact is.”

“And what is an actual fact?”

“You’re an idiot.”

He smirked despite the fact you insulted him. You also couldn’t hide your own smile. It was apparent from anyone in that room, it was not a smile of victory; it was one synonymous with the feeling inside of your chest as it felt like your own heart would burst forth like light.

Your father had felt this feeling before, so it was not lost on him.

“You seem awfully happy to have your entire statement dismantled, Mr. Tully.” He said to Angus.

The boy looked up, still with a smile but one not as euphoric. “I mean, I wasn’t that serious about it.”

“Oh, and I didn’t think you were. It just astounds me how close you two became in a matter of a few days.” He said. “Wasn’t it only yesterday you both were at each other’s throats?”

You stepped in. “No, that was the first few days, actually. I mean, we were the only kids at Barton after that, so it’s probably best we figured how to deal with each other. I guess we both liked some of the same things too, so that made it easier.”

“Yeah.” Angus nodded.

Your father straightened his gaze between the two of you, but then smiled, getting up from the booth. “I have to use the facilities; don’t go anywhere.”

“No papa,” you teased. “we’re going to go do a line of cocaine with the homeless man a few blocks away.”

“You know, I’m beginning to believe that you’re the bad influence on Mr. Tully and not the other way around.”

With that, he left the two of you by yourselves as he walked to the back of the diner. Once he was gone, you and Angus cackled to yourselves.

“Do you think he knows?” You asked, a hint of concern mixed in with delight.

“I don’t know, probably.” He shrugged, still chuckling. “Is that so bad?”

“I mean…I’ve never had a boyfriend before.” You admitted, smiling shyly.

Even though the rest of the diner was booming with Christmas music and leftover excitement from the holidays, it all fell silent between you two. The boy who was once radiated in the happiness you shared with him, now covered in a shroud of terror.

Well…in reality, he was alarmed, not terrified; yet, that is all you saw.

“Shit I-!” You realized what you had just said. “I didn’t mean-I mean, we don’t have to be together, I just meant that I’ve never had someone like me back when I’ve liked them, and even then, it didn’t happen very often-.”

“-Hey, hey.” He stopped you. “No, I’ve never had that happen either. I mean, I’ve been to all boys’ schools since I was fourteen. I think…yeah, I think I’d like to give it a try.”

“Really?” You felt the weight from your shoulders loosen as your face brightened.

He nodded, glowing with you. “Really.”

You glanced up at the bathroom door, and when there was no sight of your father, you took his face into your hands, pulling him into a kiss. It wasn’t as intense as your previous ones, but not as quick as the one you gave him outside the bookstore.

He pulled away first, and before you could say anything about it, you saw the waitress leave from the corner of your eye. She had brought the drinks, including your milkshake and fries. Turning back towards the table, you immediately picked up a fry and dipped it into the milkshake.

“Oh my god, you weren’t joking.” Angus said with no emotion behind it.

“I know I’m funny, but this I would not joke about.” You talked as you ate. “Try it.”

“No.”

“I’ll kiss you if you do.” You took another fry.

“You’ll kiss me anyway.”

“I’ll kiss you like how the French do.”

“You already do that.”

 “I’ll do something different.”

His eyes grew, and he huffed out a surprised laugh. “‘Something different’?”

“Yeah.” You dipped a third fry. “I don’t know what, but I’ll do it.”

 “Not that you have to, but fine I’ll try it.” Angus reached for a fry, then dipped it into your milkshake and ate it.

Angus’ face went through more arrays of emotions in a short time since you met him. You grinned from ear to ear. “Well?”

“Fuck off.” He tried to hide his smile as he took another fry.

“I’m sorry, what?” You taunted.

“It’s not the best-.”

“-I’m sorry, what?!” You repeated louder, and you both were talking over each other. “It sounds like-!”

“You don’t have to be so-!”

“It sounds like you actually like it!”

“You’re so loud.”

You finished with laughter, and then kissed his cheek. You returned to your milkshake and fries as Angus talked about something funny that happened back in the fall. You can’t remember what he said to this day, because a familiar voice entered your ears as it entered the diner.

Angus kept talking to you, but it was in one ear and out the other as you tried your best not to show your discomfort at the man who laughed a little louder than the rest of the people in the diner. When you thought Angus wasn’t paying attention, you glanced over your shoulder at the entrance.

There he stood; a man around the same age as your father with a woman perhaps ten or fifteen years younger than him, holding a baby on her hip, and clutching her seven-year-old daughter’s hand.

Despite what Andy Williams was singing from the jukebox, this was not the most wonderful time of the year.

Angus tapped your shoulder, and you drew your eyes away to look at him.

“Hey, I hate this song, I’m gonna go change it.” He said. You got out of the booth for him to stand, and once he did you sat back down. Only for him to then say. “Okay, scoot over.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Scoot over.”

“You didn’t even change the song.”

“I changed my mind, it’s not that bad.”

He was bullshitting you, but you scooted over anyway, and he sat beside you. “What’s going on?”

You scoffed. “You’re the one that got up and sat down again.”

“Is that guy Daniel?”

“Angus-.”

“-Tell me.”

“Is he bothering you?”

Both you and Angus looked and saw the man from the entrance stand before you with his hands in his pockets. You dropped your gaze.

“No, he’s not.”

You had no idea what you hated more that night: hearing a man you never met say your mother’s name, or hearing a man you knew too well say yours.

“If he is, just say the word and-.”

“-He’s not bothering me.” You hissed.

Angus slipped his hand into yours as you kept your eyes down, but he kept his trained on the man standing in front of him.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Look, I just didn’t expect you to actually show up.”

You didn’t say anything, so Angus did.

“Could you go? She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He ignored him, still angling on you. “Look, sweetie, you don’t have to, and I get it if you don’t want to, but I’d really like it if you came and meet them. They’re all right here now; Carol, Maria, and Frankie. He just turned one last week-.”

“-Can you just fuck off?” You finally looked at him.

He tilted his head and raised his brows before looking at Angus. “Young man, could you give her and I some privacy-?”

“-No.”

The man looked at you, scoffing. “Jesus Christ, what’d you do to make him so fucking head over heels for you? Was that the issue just now between you two? Under the table action?”

Angus stood. “Fuck you, what’s your problem?”

You pulled on his sleeve, hissing his name and kneeling on top of your seat to try and get him to sit back down. The man continued to taunt him.

“My problem is that you don’t know what’s going on boy, and you’re being a little prick about all of this.”

“Get the fuck out of here or I’ll…”

“‘You’ll-you’ll what?’” He looked over at you. “I can’t tell if you picked the bravest or the stupidest kid to fool around with, Eurydice.”

You were always a strange child growing up. Perhaps it was that there are times in your life you picture music whenever a certain emotion arose within you.

As you heard him say that name, a name that you heard last when your mother was dying in her bed, a name that was only for her to use and her alone…You heard Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saëns.

You don’t even remember grabbing the stupid butter knife from your silverware, just raising it up above you and believing it would cause any harm. As Angus held you back, the man reached over you to grab your hair.

Chaos ensued for a moment in the diner as you cried out when he pulled the ribbon out of your hair, and both him and Angus engaged in a battle of expletives. Most of the diners held back and watched in shock, while only two of them came up. A man stood between him and Angus, and the wife of the yelling man pulled him away.

“Daniel, what the hell is going on?!” She hissed.

“Yes, Daniel,” all eyes fell onto Paul Hunham, who was behind Daniel. “what is the meaning of this?”

You shrunk back in the booth, Angus hugging you tightly against him as if to hide you from Daniel. Both of you stared at the scene before you.

“Paul…” Daniel nodded, standing taller and holding his wife’s hand.

Mr. Hunham nodded back. “Your Christmas went well I take it?”

“It was fine; yours?”

“Just peachy.” He gave a tight smile, looking around at everyone else. “Family matters everyone, I sincerely apologize.”

Hesitantly, the crowd went back to their own business; or they were at least good at pretending to as they eavesdropped. Mr. Hunham continued.

“Why’re you here exactly?”

“The same as you.” Daniel explained. “Dinner with my family.”

He hummed. “And you thought it wise to inform the child in the scenario but not me?”

“Now wait a minute-.”

“-I assume your wife also didn’t know about this or the letters and money you sent?”

At the mention of her, Daniel’s wife scowled. “Danny, what’s he talking about?”

He shook his head. “Hunham, you should just mind your own-.”

“-Well now you see, I can’t do that, because her mother trusted me to provide and care for her.”

It was only then did Angus Tully understand what exactly had been going on. As the adults fought, he looked down at you in his arms. It was as if it were the first time he had seen you, and it was the first time he noticed that he could not find a trace of Mr. Hunham.

The eyes he thought you had gotten from your mother stared up at him with dread, and when Angus looked back at the man seething with unspoken rage, he saw them there too.

“Look,” Paul sighed. “I don’t want to cause another scene, so let us handle this like men. You will not make contact with her again, and we can walk away.”

He took a heaving breath before responding. “Fine by me. Come on, Carrie.”

Daniel began to lead her away from your booth, but Paul stopped them. “I believe you have something of my daughter’s.”

His eyes trailed down to the ribbon in his hand. He let go of his wife to walk back to Paul who held his hand out. Instead of giving it to him, he turned to Angus, smiling. He handed it to him.

“Keep her on a short leash, boy. She’s got her mother’s mouth.”

With that, he and his wife and children left the South Street Diner. You only pulled away from Angus when he did from you. No tears had fallen onto your cheeks, but that didn’t mean they weren’t stinging your eyes as you tried to keep them at bay.

You took the ribbon from Angus only for it to hang loosely at your side. Paul softened his gaze as he began to put on his jacket.

“I think we should just settle on room service tonight.” He said gently. “I can get them to bag up the fries and let you take the milkshake glass?”

You could only nod, not wanting to look at either of the men with you. You all put on your coats in silence, and Angus, though not hugging you, hovered as Mr. Hunham spoke with the staff; both about not wanting to report the incident, and also on paying extra for you to take the glass.

It was so cold out, and everyone was so tired from not just the events of the night, but the entire day, that Paul splurged on a cab for the three of you back to the hotel.

Angus also didn’t feel shame in trying to hold you hand in front of your father; or…stepfather. You limply held his hand back, but you leaned against him as you sat in the cab, staring at the Boston Christmas lights as the city passed by you.

When the cab made it to the hotel, you led the way in a tired haze to the elevators. It wasn’t just the three of you in the elevator; there was a somewhat large family that piled in, all merry and jolly and reeking of chlorine from the pool they had just swum in.

It was as if God himself was rubbing salt into the wounds, tempting you to lick them.

When you made it onto your floor, you also led the way back to your connecting rooms. There was no ‘Goodnight’ or ‘Can we stay up just a little longer?’ to your companions; you simply opened your door and shut it in their faces.

Setting the milkshake down, you tossed off your jacket and pulled your shoes off. Collapsing on the bed, you looked down at the ribbon still in your hand…and you cried.

[irwinsblender]

inner demons

a/n: i’ve written this over the span of a few weeks bc my mental health has been down the drain recently and i needed an outlet. i wasn’t sure about uploading this, but here it is anyway

also used these pictures of ashton bc that’s how i imagine he’d look when listening to you rant about how you’re feeling

pairing: ashton x reader

summary: your mental health has been getting worse again and ashton is there to try and help you through it

warnings: depression, self harm, reference to suicide - and please, if you find any of these triggering, don’t read this fic

word count: 3k

✩ ✩ ✩

winter was one of the worst times of year for you. specifically, for your mental health. the dreary, rainy and cloudy weather, days becoming dark hours earlier than in the summer was always hard on you.

your mental health was bad already. you’d been suffering with depression for quite a long time now. it first started at school when you couldn’t deal with exams along with certain horrible people in your classes, that seemed to linger for a few years after you graduated.

just when you thought things were getting better, the pandemic hit, causing you to relapse and become worse than before. you didn’t know how to deal with all of the terrible thoughts that were constantly going around your head, including thoughts telling you to hurt yourself.

and you did, you turned to that to help you cope with feeling so exhausted. in the end, it didn’t really help. but you had nothing else to help you.

until you met ashton irwin. your now boyfriend.

you’d never met anyone as caring as him. he always listened to anything you had to say, he was there for you when you needed to rant; most of all, he didn’t leave after you told him about your struggles.

in fact, he empathised with you. telling you about his struggles and ways he tried to get through them. he promised then and there that he would always be there to support you and would never judge you for any of your thoughts or emotions.

you always appreciated ashton, but you found it hard to tell him when you were beginning to struggle more again. you felt pathetic not being able to cope on your own, you felt like a burden in his life every time you had to involve him in your problems.

this was one of those times.

it had been a long day, or at least it felt like it had been. it was raining all day, something you hated. you hadn’t been able to get out of bed, you hadn’t eaten, only had a drink of water which ashton brought to you before he left the house earlier in the day.

you’d been sitting in the bathroom for the past hour with the door locked. you’d told ashton you were going to have a shower, but, you never got that far. ashton would’ve noticed that the noise of the shower never started, but he’s always been respectful to leave you to whatever you need to do.

it was different this time though. it was too quiet. he was sat in the living room, planning on cooking you both a nice dinner. however, you’d been acting different today. you’d been quiet, not as cheerful as usual when he arrived home from being elsewhere.

you were sat on the closed toilet, leaning against the counter as tears fell down your face. deciding if you were going to do what your mind had been telling you to do. you didn’t want to hurt yourself again, but what choice did you have? nothing else helped. it was practically staring you in the face from where you’d placed the sharp object on the counter.

you looked down at your arms, marks from a couple of weeks ago that were starting to heal properly. marks you hadn’t told ashton about. ashton knew you struggled more at this time of year; he’d been busy recently with work, he hadn’t had time to notice things going even more downhill.

while you were contemplating your choices, ashton had been making his way upstairs. he decided that maybe you needed some company with showering. you told him previously that you find it comforting showering together, so that’s what he’d do.

he entered the bedroom, still hearing no movement. he tried to go into the bathroom, met with the door not budging. just the handle twisting. he couldn’t open the door. you’d locked it.

“sweetheart?” he called out, sudden worry washing over him. “you okay in there?”

you’d jumped at the sound of him trying to open the door, you don’t usually lock it, but it was necessary this time. you didn’t answer him, trying to muffle your cries.

“baby? please answer me,” you could hear the frustration and fear in his tone. “i’m here for you, i’m not going anywhere.”

“i’m fine, ash,” you sniffled. “just leave me alone.”

it came out harsher than you meant it to. your emotions playing a part. you never ask him to leave you alone. that only happened when you were in this kind of situation.

“i’m not leaving,” ashton replied. “talk to me, please, i’m here, whatever you need.”

you let out an accidental loud cry, placing your head in your hands as you couldn’t hold back your cries any longer. you were in so much pain it was hard to handle.

ashton’s heart broke hearing the way you were crying. why hadn’t he noticed you weren’t as happy as normal, why hadn’t he noticed your depression taking a toll again. he should’ve noticed.

“can you open the door, baby?” he asked, trying his luck before he’d have to figure something else out.

“no,” you said with a gasp, your crying almost uncontrollable as you moved to pick the object up from the counter.

your shaky hands weren’t helping, causing you to drop it, making a clanging noise as it hit the floor. you knew ashton would’ve heard it, he would’ve put two and two together. you couldn’t pick it up, crying even harder.

ashton was going through his nightstand already, trying to find the outside key for the bathroom door. he was panicking by now, frantically trying to find it, worried when he didn’t come upon it instantly. until, a light caught his eye on the dresser.

the light reflecting on the key, he quickly picked it up, going back to the bathroom door. he slid the key into the lock, twisting it two times until he heard it click.

he pushed it open, causing you to quickly try and turn away, rushing to pull the sleeves of your hoodie down before he could see anything. you wiped your eyes on your sleeves instead, only glancing over to him for a second.

ashton looked to you first, he couldn’t miss the way you pulled at your sleeves, he looked to the ground, seeing the razor there, but it was clean which gave him slight relief.

he moved it out of the way, walking to you slowly, crouching down beside you. he placed one hand on your knee, caressing his thumb back and fourth, the other on your waist.

“i’m here, baby, i’m here now,” he tried to reassure. “what do you need?”

you shook your head, you couldn’t even look at him. you felt pathetic, like a disgrace. you couldn’t look your own boyfriend in the eye because you were embarrassed about how badly you were handling things.

ashton saw the expression on your face, it was too familiar. the same a couple of years ago, when you were struggling, when you had been harming yourself. he knew what was going on now.

“it’s okay if you’re not doing okay, love,” he said, cupping your cheek in one of his hands, wiping away your tears.

“i’m fine,” you bluntly responded. “i’m always fine, everything is always just fine.”

your hurt started turning into slight anger. angry with yourself, angry with the way you kept going around in circles with your mental health. you got a little better, and then things always became worse. it’s the same thing over and over and over.

“baby—“

“just leave me alone,” you folded your arms, pushing his hands away from you. not thinking straight with the other thoughts clouding your mind.

“i don’t want you to be alone,” ashton softly replied, trying to keep calm in this situation. “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“i’m handling it,” you tried to get a subtle look behind ashton, trying to find where the razor was. if you could just get him to leave—

“angel,” he got your attention. knowing that nickname would stop you from whatever else you’re thinking about. “you know it’s okay if you aren’t doing good, this isn’t something that will instantly go away, there are ups and downs and that’s okay. wherever you’re at now, i’m here to help you through it.”

you cried harder at that. everything was hurting. you were exhausted with life. you didn’t want to keep living like this.

“i’m sorry,” you cried, holding your hands over your face. “i’m so sorry.”

“hey, hey, it’s okay, why are you sorry?” ashton asked, standing himself up as he took your hands in his.

“i— i did it again,” you blubbered. taking a breath to try and control your crying. ashton didn’t know what you were talking about. “i know i said i’d talk to you if i felt that bad again, but i just— i couldn’t bring myself to tell you.”

then it clicked. he knew what you meant. locking yourself in the bathroom, the razor you’d dropped on the floor. you’d been self harming again.

“you don’t have to apologise for that, baby,” he sighed. “it’s not something easy to talk about, please don’t feel like you need to say sorry to me.”

you were quiet after he said that. trying not to keep crying the way you were while also trying to figure out what to say next. his hands were still in yours, not planning on letting go any time soon.

“i thought things were getting better,” you complained honestly. “i was happy travelling with you the last two months, and as soon as we got home everything started crashing down on me.”

“being on tour was a big distraction for you, a new city every night, seeing places you’ve never been before, you didn’t have time to think about anything else,” ashton reminded. “now we’re home, there’s days where we have nothing going on, it gives your mind time to overthink and for those bad thoughts to come back.”

you didn’t say anything after that, ashton could tell it wasn’t helping with you sitting in the bathroom, the razor behind him on the floor. he pulled at your hands softly, urging you to stand with him. thankfully you did, walking with him as he lead you through to the bedroom. he took you over to the bed, only letting go of your hands so he could sit back against the headboard.

“come here, love,” he held one arm out, waiting for you to get comfortable.

you sat down, shuffling over to him. your head resting against his shoulder, his arm around you to keep you close. he pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek, causing you to look up at him.

“i don’t know what to do,” you suddenly spoke. ashton allowing you to get your thoughts out. “this feels never ending, it feels like there’s no way out apart from—“

“baby,” he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. he knew what you were going to say, but he didn’t want to hear it come out of your mouth. “i know it’s hard, and i hate that you’re feeling like this again. you deserve so much happiness and i wish there was more i could do to take your pain away.”

“it hurts, ash,” you started to cry again, tears dropping down your cheeks continuously. “everything hurts so bad.”

he pulled you tighter against his chest, one hand on the back of your head, slowly running through your hair. he pressed soft kisses to your forehead every few moments, trying to let you know how much he loved you and that he was right there with you through this.

as your crying started to calm down, ashton took one of your hands in his, stretching out your arm slightly. you looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.

“can i see?” he asked.

you weren’t sure at first, but eventually nodded your head. he gently pulled up your sleeve, each mark, scar and any new cuts revealing themselves to him. you sighed seeing the upset look on his face.

“they’re horrible,” you sniffled. tugging your arm away from him. “i’m sorry.”

“they aren’t horrible, baby,” ashton held your hand. he ran his thumb over a couple of old scars, then he lifted your arm up, pressing kisses along the length of it. “they show strength. it shows you’ve been strong enough to fight to stay in this world.”

you didn’t know how he could see it like that. in your own head, it showed how weak you were, how bad you were at coping with life.

“you’re the strongest person i know,” ashton continued, pulling your sleeve back down as he kept your hand in his. “it takes strength to admit you aren’t doing good, so i’m proud of you for telling me.”

“i don’t know what to do, ash,” you slouched further into his grip, cheek pressed against his chest. “nothing’s getting better, i don’t know what to do to get better. this cycle is becoming too much to deal with.”

ashton could’ve cried hearing you say that. knowing the person he loved is feeling so defeated broke his heart. he would do anything it takes to make you feel better, to try and help you.

“i’m here for you, baby,” he stroked his hand softly through your hair. “anything you need me to do, just say the word, i promise i will always be here for you.”

“i don’t know what else will help,” you sniffled. “therapy didn’t work, the meds made me feel worse, there’s nothing else. i have nothing else.”

“you have me,” ashton cupped your cheek in his hand, lifting your head to look at him. “if you want me to listen, if you need advice, if you want me to distract you, or if you just want me to hold you while you cry, i'll be here. no matter what.”

he leaned down, kissing your forehead before pecking your lips a few times in a row. finally getting a small smile out of you. if he could see your smile every day, his life would be complete. that’s all he wanted. for you to be happy.

“i’m sorry for being like this again,” you sighed. not holding eye contact. “i don’t know how you put up with me.”

“i’m not putting up with this,” ashton shook his head. “i care about you, more than anything, i’ll do whatever it takes to make this a little easier for you to get through, because you can get through it.”

you shuffle down, your head resting on his stomach as you close your eyes. tired out from the chaos of your own mind.

“we could take a few trips,” ashton suggested. “you love travelling. i know you still have that list of places you want to visit.”

“i do, but…” you paused, opening your eyes as you squeezed ashton’s hand in yours. “what happens when we come home? i’ll just be like this again.”

“we’ll try and find other things for you to enjoy,” ashton was determined to stay positive in this situation. “you love to draw, you love to create art, and i’ve seen the way you watch me play the drums and guitar. i could teach you, give you something else to put your mind to.”

you thought for a moment, wiping your sleeves over your eyes one last time. you couldn’t believe ashton still wanted to bother with trying after how difficult and negative you always were in this situation.

“okay,” you mumbled. ashton was surprised to hear that you’ll do this. “i don’t know if it’ll help, but i’ll try.”

“that’s a start,” ashton smiled. “the best thing you can do is try. even if it takes time.”

you nodded. finally looking up at him. you shuffled yourself upwards, capturing his lips in a unexpected but loving kiss. placing your hand on his cheek softly as you pull away.

“how would you feel about getting a guitar?” he asked, hands on your waist pulling you to straddle him. “i know how much you love painting, we could buy some paint for it so you can make it your own.”

“i could paint little flowers on it,” you excitedly suggested. “and maybe some butterflies too, that would look pretty.”

ashton nodded in agreement, just happy that you were willing to do this to see if it’ll help having your mind preoccupied with something like learning how to play an instrument. he hoped this would help, hating seeing you hurting like this.

“well, the band has no plans on making new music just yet,” ashton tucked your hair behind your ears. “we could take a trip soon… italy maybe?”

“really? you want go to italy before going back to australia?” you asked, one of your bucket list places, knowing how much he wanted to head back to australia after tour ended.

“australia can wait, i want to make sure you’re okay first.”

you let out a long breath, leaning towards him to wrap your arms around his neck, his arms around your back as he hugged you as close to him as he could get you. he kissed your cheek, making sure you knew he would always be there for moments like this.

“i love you,” he said quietly. “remember i’ll always be here, for anything you need. you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you held him tighter. “i love you, ash.”

a few more tears threatened to leave your eyes as you hugged. you truly didn’t think you’d be here anymore if ashton hadn’t come into your life when he did. and now he can be your anchor that grounds you and gives you a reason to try and live this life, no matter how tough it might be.

✩ ✩ ✩

taglist: @hexsdexs @conspiracy-ash @oliviah-25 @superbloomrry | if you would like to join my taglist, please comment here or see this post

[agentwriter]

So, I sort of got an Operation Blackout headcanon. Real angsty too to go with the whumptober vibe so be prepared-

I saw a couple days ago a post about how canonically Rookie was doing the laundry when Herbert nabbed him, and I went “damn, that’s anticlimatic” because I imagined things going a lot differently. Picture this scenario:

Rookie is taking a walk around, knowing damn well that he’s one of Herbert’s targets by being the EPF’s Comms lead, if G and Dot’s kidnappings mean anything. He’s been getting bad vibes all day, so he’s been trying to keep his nerves on check by not worrying too much, maybe it’s just the growing coldness getting to him? Or the lack of sunlight despite being day leaving him uneasy? Either way, he continues on, hopeful that Herbert hasn’t caught onto his location yet, even if he’s obviously the least careful around his secret identity of all agents with how much stuffed he has leaked to the media along the years.

He tries to chill out, and that goes fine until Rookie hears a couple of suspicious clicks ahead and spots a couple crabs looking at him, and in any other occasion Rookie would approach and greet them with open arms, however, these crabs aren’t supposed to be here. They should be underwater, burrowing in lumps of sand until the temperature gets warm enough for them to be cozy around the island…

Unless, these crabs are here for him.

He should’ve guessed Herbert’s crab army would be a part of this whole scheme, the agent blinks once and crustaceans are gone, even so, he can feel their little ways watching him from somewhere hidden now. How long have they been following him?! The EPF’s teleportation system’s been broken ever since Gary disappeared (and no one managed to fix it without him) and he couldn’t really run to one of the resistance’s hideouts and risk their existence- So he decides to run to his igloo that is a bit close and lock all the doors as fast as possible.

After doing that, he hears some bangs coming from outside and immediately figures he’s cornered. Rookie shoots an SOS message to other agents but he doubts he’ll be able to escape his fate, especially when Dot, someone known for being able to sneak past the most sticky situations, couldn’t. While Rookie realizes that Herbert is going to take him away from his friends and leak his agent info like he did with the others he captured, he decided to make one final message.

And here’s another headcanon inside another scenario but just hear me out- Rookie is a comntent creator. Even before he joined the PSA he did silly vlog videos and livestreams where he chatted and game’d a bit. Of course, he couldn’t really upload more of his wholesome content while dealing with Herbert’s dictatorship in Operation Blackout, and since the Club Penguin News was taken over too, Rookie, along with many other penguin content creators, became replacement sources of information for all of Club Penguin that wished to know where to find food, shelter, if the resistance is doing any progress and all that, so basically-

The day Rookie was kidnapped, he did one last livestream.

He barricades the door of his recording room and immediately starts the stream. The viewers can see something’s different just by the way the whole thing is setup, Rookie looks nervous, and decides since this is probably the first thing Herbert will leak when he’s captured, he figures it will eb better if he does it himself. So instead of the usual welcomes and smiles, he starts the transmission with “I’m Rookie. Officer of Public Relations and leader of the EPF’s Communication sector, and I have a small announcement for you all…”

The message is actually pretty short, 6-7 minutes at most, and Rookie is overall very serious despite being apparently nervous. He talks about the Blackout, and how everyone that has resisted Herbert has been suffering, and how the EPF is sparing no effort to bring things back to normal, and apologizes since he’s going to be offline for a while. He mentions other channels that could serve as good sources of information while he’s gone and then asks for everyone to maintain hope despite it all, that Club Penguin has faced a lot of disasters together, and that this one won’t be any different.

By this point, the way Rookie was glancing sideways together with the bangs coming from somewhere off-screen, the chat was begging him to escape.

But he didn’t, using his final minutes to do a personal goodbye. He talks about his friends at the EPF, how all of them are incredibly resourceful and fierce, and especially good at their jobs. Rookie asks them to be strong, just as he’ll try to be now. He’s scared but hopeful, and just then, a powerful blow breaks the door down.

The camera is knocked off into the ground and sounds of struggles along with clicks can be heard, the commotion doesn’t take long either, and when EPF’s tactical team finally arrive on the scene, it’s too late.

Rookie’s igloo is empty of it’s owner, and a couple of hours later, Herbert shares the news with glee along with more confidential stuff, as a treat.

And like that, Operation Blackout continues.

So ye, this is the headcanon. There’s more that could be discussed about it like the other agents reaction (jetkie angst yummy) and how Rookie gets an earful by the Director when everything is over. But that’s the main meat of it. I should probably translate this into proper fanfiction format later (idk if there’s a lot of club penguin fanfic readers out there tho), but it would be nest anyways.

Thanks for reading this ^^

[madhattervanessa]

Valerian Root

This is a blurb I have been writing on for a while - it might spin off into a longer fic but I’m not sure I’ll ever upload it... if I’ll ever do it, you’ll find it on ao3

-

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Deathless x f!Witch!Reader

Summary: As you suffer from another wave of migraines, an unexpected guest returns to your home to take care of you... in more ways than one.

Warnings: Migraines, consensual-ish drugging (It’s for the reader’s health) and sudden appearing in readers living spaces, nipple play, biting, scratching, grinding/dry humping, rough-ish p in v sex

Words: 4646

Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

“I seldomly see you return this often, little witch.”

Your eyes stray from the beautiful scenery and towards the edge of your dream, the fibrillation coming from the deep timbre catching your attention - because despite opium and valerian root making for potent sleep and pain aiding drugs, this was not one of the usual effects.

You find him wandering through the darkness at the edge of the clearing before he manages to come closer, through the soft grass and into the light.

His long coat swishes through the moss and ferns as he slowly approaches, like someone attempting to feed a stray cat. Centuries of experience make him know to be careful - your dreams had always been fragile bubbles of calm and you’d grown protective of them even as a child. Now, more than ever, he was reminded of your first few meetings.

He knows, even cats who have grown docile will bite if given reason.

You purse your lips and avert your eyes towards a pile of books off to the side. He lets his eyes trail over you, the long, lightweight gown that floats just shy off the ground as you sway back and forth on the padded swing you sprawled out on.

He stops just shy of the swing, his presence carefully pushing into your personal space, gently intruding, waiting for you to pounce, retreat… or stay.

His coat is shed as he takes another form, jumping up into the swing with you to rub a soft cheek against your bare leg, carefully nudging the thin fabric covering you.

You smile and set your eyes upon the large, black cat nuzzling into your skin. You reach out and carefully pet his chin, moving on to his cheek before it smashes against your skin again.

A low rumbling purr starts as you continue caressing the soft fur behind his jaw, your other hand reaching for a book to read.

You keep the illusion for a while but then the walls of it shudder again and a slither of pain runs down your spine as the connection to your body strengthens again, the dreaming barely holding on.

-

You groan as you wake, still trying to hold on to the comfort your dream had brought you but it’s too late: The sharp pain and thrumming behind your eyes has returned with viciousness. You forcefully try to relax the muscles in your face as you look over your sun filled apartment.

It’s of no use, though.

So you carefully detangle from your sheets and pad through your apartment towards the kitchen. 

There’s already some darkness creeping over the smooth tiles there. You sigh as the first step brings a cooling sensation underneath the soles of your feet, a short lived comfort.

You click the electric kettle on and grab a fresh thermos before filling it with your hand mixed tea as well as some honey.

As you wait for the water to boil, you hear the pearl curtain in your hallway clatter softly, despite it being absolutely windless in your apartment.

You’ve reached for a knife without much thinking. Your heartbeat immediately feels more prominent than your nausea as you peek around the fridge, down towards the hallway.

No one there.

You’re about to sign off of it being all in your imagination. But checking other rooms would not hurt. It had never been a bad idea in any century.

The kettle clicks and you hear as the water starts boiling.

But as you take a step backwards, the hair on the back of your neck stands and goosebumps litter your arms as you feel a presence stepping closer.

“Put the knife down, little witch.”

You jump, despite the soft murmur, and the knife clatters to the ground.

Two hands quickly envelop your shoulders and pull you back, the knife’s edge only just missing your bare feet.

You turn your head. “Morpheus”, you murmur, returning the fond look he has leveled at you, his hands slowly smoothing down your arms as he takes you in. “I- I have not called upon you-”

“I made time, after sensing your distress.”

He lets you go and carefully picks up the knife from the ground. Meanwhile you are still standing, quite starstruck, trying to make sense of this.

The last time you had seen him had been just months ago, a brief meeting after a hundred or more years of his disappearance. Nothing but a quick reassurance that he was back and would return to you once the rebuilding of the dreaming was done. Paired with a short request to look after a particular member of the Constantine family.

He strolls past you and into the kitchen. As you turn to follow him, another wave of nausea crashes against you and you hold on to the doorframe before deciding to sit down at the desk on the other side of the hallway.

The clinking and clattering from the kitchen grates against your sensitive nerves and you hesitantly open an eye to watch as he fills a teacup with boiling water before sprinkling some of your tea mixture into it.

The clattering stops and you close your eyes again, trying to focus on the distinct silence and the way the air seems filled with his presence.

A soft touch to your knee makes you open your eyes again to find Morpheus kneeling in front of you, the cup of tea in one hand and a small, white pill in the other.

You roll your eyes, contrary to your smile, despite the pain it causes.

“You know I don’t like painkillers-”

“Amuse me.”

You glare at him, your smile falling as you look back towards his offerings. As you reach for the teacup, purposefully ignoring the pill, he levels another soft and openly amused look at you.

“I’ll have the tea. Thank you”, you murmur and he sighs before tilting his head in silent acceptance.

You tentatively sip at your tea, finding at the perfect temperature. He watches closely as he gets up and you take another gulp. The pill is placed on the desk, well in sight of your weary eyes.

“Have it your way, then.”

“I always do. You know Hecate makes sure of it.”

The reference to the Moirai makes him straighten up for a second before he smiles - no doubt catching your remark as what it is. 

You had not just idled around, you had found out where he had been all this time, what exactly he had been up to.

As you sip your tea, he follows his own curiosity, doing what he hadn’t been able to do the last time; carefully cataloging your apartment, the changes, the new additions. One of them being a plush armchair, the blue hues of its padding close enough to his eyes to have reminded you of him, just like the dark wood had reminded you of his attire and hair.

The dull ache in your head goes on and you hardly listen to the sounds surrounding you, trying to focus on your heartbeat.

That is, until you hear the dull sounds of boots falling, one by one, harshly interrupting your meditation.

“What are you doing over there?”

You turn to find him carefully draping his coat over said armchair as a wave of drowsiness overcomes you, his boots already neatly stacked underneath.

His pants follow, leaving him in underwear and a shirt, just like you.

You look him up and down before meeting his eyes and your breath hitches, the urge to get up and join him increasing with every second of eye contact shared between the two of you. But then there’s another wave of drowsiness and the pounding pain in your skull dulls to a gentle knock.

“You put something in my tea-?”, you murmur, your tongue feeling sticky and heavy in your mouth.

You put the tea down and your head lolls to the side before a gentle hand caresses your cheek and your temple rests against the soft fabric of his shirt. The smell of moss and old books from your dream fills your nose, a clear testament to his visit in it just mere moments ago.

“I do have access to more elusive ingredients for potion mixing, aiodos.”

The endearment runs down your spine soothingly as you frown, even though the energy to do so is leaving you steadily.

“Though I admit your mix of opium and valerian root to be quite potent.”

You blink again and feel your old heart slow as if you were a bear about to enter hibernation, your lips tingling pleasantly as if you had sipped some spiced wine instead of tea.

You want to say what you think of his little betrayal, want to curse and spite him-

“Come now, let’s get you to bed.”

You find yourself in his arms, despite your pitiful whine, despite trying to push him away. Your head falls against his chest and suddenly you feel frail like glass.

He carries you through the short hallway with care, his lips at your temple as the fight in you returns for a second, the need to prove you can damn well take care of yourself but a shush and his lips pressed to your forehead makes the seed die before it can sprout.

You sigh and go limp in his arms, then, the numbness traveling from the toes of your feet and your fingertips, up your body with every breath you take.

“Rest now. There’s nothing you need to fear. I am watching over you.”

When you next wake, the moon is barely peeking through the curtains, bathing everything in a cool, glittering light.

The heaviness you feel in your bones makes you feel like you have slept for eons.

It takes you a moment to remember, to become aware of the warm nook of a shoulder you are pressed into, the arm wound around you, the soft breaths fanning over your head.

You glance up at him and find him resting. A rare sight, even in your living spaces, thoroughly secured by runes and protection circles.

You can’t help but smile as you turn and let the flat of your hand carefully roam over his chest. There is no shame in staving off the inevitable a little longer, not after all this time.

So you watch the moon slowly illuminate the altar off to the side of the room and wait, relishing in the calm. It is then that you notice the absence of your pain and exhaustion.

“I trust you are feeling better?” The low grumble underneath your ear almost makes you jump had there not been the steady climb of a second hand towards your thigh.

You sigh in response and rub your leg against his underneath the plush blankets. A low hum sounds in return and you know there’s a pleased smile on his face without turning. The hand on your thigh moves in calming back and forth motions like a pendulum.

You lose yourself in the gentle touch before your hand travels higher, up to his collarbones and you feel him tense for a moment as you trace the lines up to his neck, the links of his necklace. As your touch travels to his jaw, he relaxes again.

It’s quite telling, really, that he is still laying here, instead of leaving you, knocked out cold.

“I feel... exhausted. Thoroughly rested.” You take another deep breath and prop your head up as your fingertips dance over his chin and back down to his throat. There’s the slightest hint of stubble there, underneath your touch and you wonder if it’s to feed into your own desires or if it’s an unwanted symptom of him not resting before taking care of his kingdom.

“You worried me.”

You hum and keep appreciating his form, wetting your lips as your fingers trace the lines of his chest. Inside, the admission had made you freeze and almost catch your breath.

Your eyes flick to his but you find him looking anywhere else, your sleep mussed hair, your shoulder peeking out from underneath the blankets - anywhere so as to not meet your eyes. It is more telling than him looking back but you simply take it in stride.

“I do apologize if I distracted you from your duties, milord”, you murmur, a teasing smile on your face as he finally returns your gaze. He tugs you over himself by your thigh, fully covering himself in you. His fingertips tickle the back of your thigh and you bite your lip.

However, before either of you can start to banter, a distant flutter, followed by a quiet squawk distracts you.

You turn your head and catch a shadow moving outside, then another flutter and the distant sound of bird’s claws on the balcony just outside your living room and kitchen.

You level a glare at Dream from the corner of your eye before you shuffle out of his grip and out of bed.

A call of your name and another sigh follow your footsteps through to the other room. Still barefoot and only in a shirt and underwear. You fumble with your fingertips at the seam of it, only then realizing the black color, the soft fabric- it lifts your sour mood just slightly. The smell of petrichor and sandalwood envelops you, following you, just like Dream’s eyes do.

There.

You spot just the slightest hint of a beak through one of your windows before the small, black shadow flutters to the next.

You hasten your steps in turn and manage to pull the window open before they can hop any further.

They jump, visibly shocked as you face them with a grim smile.

“Hello there. May I help you with something?”

After a few inquisitive turns of their head, they clear their throat.

“I-I-” You take your time to muster the bird, thinking them to be the familiar of another witch but then there’s that smell, that energy surrounding the little spy.

“You’re quite handsome.” The nervous flutter of feathers makes you perk up and you look him up and down a bit more intently as you lean onto the window sill. “You’re Dream’s new raven, aren’t you?”

“Oh- uhm... yeah, I keep an eye out for him, he... he tends to... get into trouble.”

You smile sweetly at him and nod.

“He does. But he is safe here, you know. And I do appreciate my privacy.”

“I-I understand but he’s been-”

“Matthew.” 

The raven nearly jumps off of the sill at the low growl from behind you. 

Pretty name for a pretty bird.

You welcome the warmth pressing against you from behind as an arm winds around your waist. “I told you not to spy on me.”

“I know, Sir, but after yesterday-”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Morpheus reaching towards the window.

“Give Lucienne my regards, Matthew. And please do visit again, I feel like we have much to talk about”, you quickly manage, sensing the impending end of your conversation, and as soon as your last word leaves your lips, Dream slams the window shut right in front of Matthew’s beak.

“I’m sorry about him.”

You arch an eyebrow at that, the word sorry had seen few uses in Morpheus’ vocabulary over the centuries. His nose presses against your cheek, just shy of a kiss.

“Let’s head back to bed.”

You spot the point of a raven’s beak as you just outside the window as he presses you impossibly closer, his lips trailing over your cheek to your neck.

Another arm wraps around you and you watch his hand trail over your collarbone before a thumb briefly rubs against your nipple: cheeky, and yet not to be unexpected from your lover.

“Morpheus-”, you whisper, rendered breathless at the overflow of tender motions. You give into the distraction and avert your eyes from the window.

“Mhm?”

“I’m barely back on my feet.”

“So let’s return to your bed, lover”, he murmurs, already pulling you back, away from the window and out of your kitchen.

You chuckle and turn in his arms, meeting his eyes before you lean against his forehead with your own.

“You should not be so harsh on him, you know? Jessamy’s footsteps are big ones to fill.”

“He is too curious for his own good. He needs to learn.”

“Is that what this is, then? A lesson for your raven?”

“It does present itself as a welcome side effect. Though my visit was motivated by very selfish cravings.” The low murmur makes heat lick up your spine. A knuckle tilts your chin up to his and your lips are captured in a kiss, his nose nudging against yours as his lips delicately press against your own.

The kiss leaves you in something akin to a trance and you follow him through the apartment to your bed, his hands steadily wandering over your body as do yours.

You are tempted to push him against a wall instead but as if he were able to read your mind, then, he kisses you again and holds you tight against him, his hands sneaking underneath your shirt. It sends a thrill up his spine to hear you moan in response, to feel you fit into his hands once more.

He grunts as he walks backwards into your bed but you just chuckle and redirect him.

He sits back and you crawl into his lap, before pressing another kiss to the frown that had presented itself on his lips.

“You know this would be easier in my realm.”

“Mh- but I dislike the journey there too much and you know full well.”

He sits back against the headboard and you settle there together, your hands trailing over his chest as he grabs you by the nape of your neck to pull you into another kiss.

You hum and grab the hem of his shirt tightly as he opens your mouth with his own, your breaths mingling as you inhale each other’s presence.

His hands fit themselves into your waist, relishing in the bare skin underneath as he seems to swallow you whole. He could, potentially. Kidnap you and keep you, like Hades did with Persephone. But he knows better than to upset your matron goddesses.

“You know I struggle with the waking world just as much.”

“If you insist”, you whisper back, a faint smile on your lips before you peck his lips again. As you lean back to take your shirt off, however, he leans in to press more kisses to your jaw and down to your neck.

You sigh in content, melting in his grasp as you let your head fall back. However, when you shoot a quick glance towards your alarm clock, you find the space empty.

As teeth scrape over the thin skin covering your collarbone, you do another double take. But it’s gone.

“Dream-”, you mutter, still distracted, especially as he gentles the rasp of his teeth with his tongue. “Morpheus, where is my alarm clock?”

“Irrelevant.”

You frown and this time it’s you who grabs him by the chin to make him look at you. You lean back to look at him, even though you miss the proximity immediately.

“How long did you make me sleep for?” He purses his lips, the annoyance clear as day on his features. Oh, you could picture it perfectly well now, that glare towards the alarm while you were sound asleep on his chest. One time must have been more than enough, then, for him to make the poor thing disappear.

He sighs.

“Two days.” He trails off, his eyes caught on your lips for a moment before they flick back upwards. “I think.”

“You think?” You let go of his chin and shake your head at him. “Two days. I have a job, Morpheus.”

“That job is pointless. You’re a witch”, he grumbles, pressing another furious kiss to your neck. “Besides, you had fallen ill. No use in working when you can hardly stand.” He tugs you back to fully sit in his lap again, winding his arms around you as if you were a dream about to catch flight in the world. Your boiling anger simmers at the tender motion, if only for a moment.

“You’re not usually this disagreeable with me.”

The murmur is almost lost on you but the memory it procures definitely isn’t. Images of past meetings make your still weak head spin, make you bite your lip at the memory of hastily rucked up skirts and wanton moans that had left neighbors in many a century both flustered and angry.

You lean in to kiss him again, then, because that is usually all it takes, especially when he frustrates you: The memory of time you had spent together when you could.

“Next time you are in distress, call for me.” Teeth nip at your bottom lip, a silent reprimand and you let your fingertips trail over his neck, towards the nape where you can sneak into his hair.

“I have friends and other, less busy lovers for that, Dream. You don’t need to take care of me”, you mutter, tongue too quick and nudging against ancient disputes between the two of you.

The hands on your hips tighten at the mention of the others. While he tolerated your need for more than his sparse visits, he didn’t necessarily like it.

“I’m sorry, I-”

Instead of a wrathful reply, you receive a fierce kiss, one that makes your teeth click. You can taste a hint of blood from where teeth must have pierced your lip but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

His hands gently cup your face and he grunts as you cant your hips against his. He turns the two of you so you’re flat on your back. Your mouths never part, locked in a hot and messy tangle. A tongue nudges against yours and you lose your train of thought. The soft touches quickly escalate into something more desperate after that.

One of his hands grabs your ass to hold you steady as you squirm underneath him, the soft touches underneath your shirt turning into rough groping, his thumb steadily rubbing against your nipples.

You hold on to his shoulder, losing yourself in the kisses exchanged as you gasp for air. He lets you grind your pussy against his hard length, the damp fabric catching on your clit with every one of your combined movements.

It’s a stubborn game, the silence between the two of you. Every time one of you moves to kiss the other’s neck, their jaw, the other muffles their own sounds. When you bite down on his earlobe, a small gasp escapes him and you grin triumphantly as the thrust of his hips jolts you up the mattress with your own moan.

You let your lips trail over the shell of his ear. As you grind your pussy down against him, you moan into his ear and the groan he responds with makes you shudder. Out of the corner of your eye you see him furrowing his brows and both of his hands tug you down harder, his own hips searching for the friction.

Finally, he rips your underwear off of you - you scramble to get your shirt off but he is faster than you, pinning you down to line himself up with your pussy.

You’re abruptly shoved up the mattress and gasp as he presses into you with a rough shove.

“Morpheus”, you whisper and grab his chin to lead him into another kiss.

“What is it? Tell me.”

Your fingertips dig into the bone of his jaw. You would be drawing blood with any of your human lovers, you know that, but he is leaving imprints of his teeth in your skin and you can’t help yourself. You bare your teeth as he leans down to suck at your pulse.

“What do you want?”, he murmurs over the wet skin and you feel yourself growing wetter as you grind against him.

“You know exactly what I want, you just want me to say it. I shouldn’t give you the satisfaction”, you sigh and roll your hips against his a little harder, finding that perfect spot to rub your clit against, a perfect bit of friction that makes your cheeks heat up. “Undress me, Morpheus. I want to feel you. Please.”

He hums and slides his hands over your back, up, underneath the shirt. He pulls it off very carefully and your hands move on to his shirt before your own is even fully discarded. You’re less careful than he is and he seems to approve, visibly impatient as he shuffles you until your chest presses up against his before his lips find yours again.

He starts moving his hips again and you keen into his mouth at the friction. You pull at his shoulders, wanting more but unable to voice it.

You let your hand trail over his back, down until you can scratch your nails over his thigh. It makes him moan, his hips jutting forward until you can grasp it in one of your hands.

“Cunning”, he murmurs but he doesn’t resist your pull, doesn’t so much as blink an eye. Instead he pushes two of his slender fingers against your clit, the slick sound drowned out by your moan.

"Morpheus, more-"

"Be patient", he murmurs and you want to bite at him, your lips already searching for the skin of his neck.

You faintly hear your phone ring but Morpheus pushes his slick fingers between your lips.

You meet his eyes, fully entranced, your legs haphazardly nudged to the crooks of his elbows as he pushes closer, closer until you can feel him bottoming out.

You bite down on his fingers. It changes his sullen expression, his brows furrowing, his lips twitching as he presses his hard cock deeper until you keen and let go. 

Spit slick fingers trail down over your bottom lip before he leans in to kiss you again. The spit smears against your arm before he intertwines his fingers with yours. Your moans are muffled by the kiss, a harsh and passionate thing, aided by tongue and teeth as he thrusts into you.

The headboard creaks with great offense as you grab a hold of the wood and dig your nails into it.

He drags his palm over your arm before it settles next to yours on the bedframe, his nose dipping down to press against your cheek. His thrusts are almost punishing. Every single one is making the breath in your throat catch.

You lean your cheek against your knee that is pushed up next to your head. He follows the movement, his lips smearing against the tendons in your neck.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes, yes”, you gasp, mindless in the pursuit of your own pleasure.

He doesn’t let up until your orgasm burns through you and he has to muffle your sounds with another kiss before he follows with his own orgasm.

You pant heavily as he lifts his mouth from yours. You detangle carefully, your whole body aching. Meanwhile Morpheus is quick to get dressed again before he is off to your bathroom.

You awake to a warm feeling and crack one eyelid open to watch as Morpheus carefully cleans you with a wet, warm towel.

When he is finally done, he joins you in bed again, his hands dragging over your still naked body, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.

“How do you feel?”

You snort and scooch closer until you can put a leg over his hip.

“Godlike”, you finally sigh. It earns you an amused chuckle and another murmur that you don’t catch over your increasing drowsiness.

[thestraggletag]

Kin, Part 2 of 3

Prompt: Dragon, Transform, Capture, Marriage, Nest

Giftee: @minnl70

Summary: Chosen by the Blue Fairy to slay the last dragon, Belle defies her fate and strikes a deal with the beast, Rumplestiltskin. As they search for a way to break the enchantment, an unexpected bond begins to form, but magic is never without a price—and never quite straightforward.

Rating: M

A/N: Surprise, @minnl70, it's me, your Secret Santa! I'm away on holidays right now but I made sure to properly queue this up for you. If all goes well all chapters of this fic will be posted today, but I'll try to check to make sure they are (and, if possible, also upload the fic to AO3, which I know makes it easier to read). Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

He had arrived at the clearing a good deal before he had revealed himself. He had been half-convinced the summons was a trap, a newfound way the Blue Fairy had concocted to try and trap him. He wasn’t the last living dragon for nothing. He hadn’t outlived his kin by coincidence. While other dragons had hoarded riches he had accumulated power and knowledge, and had honed his understanding of magic and mastery of himself till he had become all but untouchable. No fairy could trespass on his territory, or surprise him. Their usual tricks and wiles did not work on him, and he had stamped down his weaknesses till there were none they could exploit. Until he could feel safe. And he was damned if he let that little slip of a girl threaten that.

She was like all the other ones, he reasoned, only with a little bit more sense, which worked in his favour. Enough to distrust the Blue Fairy, and make a choice to try and save herself, if only temporarily. He couldn’t kill her yet, but couldn’t risk her being used a second time against him. So he would find a way to dissolve whatever connection the Blue Fairy had concocted between them, which bound him to her mortality, and then he’d dispose of her. At least she would die knowing her people were safe, which is more than he could say for himself.

In the meantime, there was no reason why he couldn’t have a little fun watching her struggle, watching her try and survive in his castle, away from her servants and creature comforts. With that in mind he went early in the morning to check on his little maid, eager to see what a miserable night of sleeping in the damp, dusty floor had done to her posh look and gentle manners. Her brave facade was unlikely to have survived the night, surely.

The first thing he thought when he opened the creaky door to her cell was that it looked cleaner than he had imagined it. The strewn straw that had covered the floor before had been gathered into two piles, one of straw that was wet or mouldy and another of cleaner straw, where the chit had no doubt slept. The cobwebs had been cleared too, and the mouse holes covered with mud. The girl herself sat huddled in a corner, looking as prim as possible, though her hair was a mess and her face and arms were very dirty. Her eyes looked puffy, and her long lashes were still wet. Tear tracks were evident along her cheeks, which gave him a modicum of delight. It wasn’t quite the amount of suffering he’d envisioned, though, which displeased him.

He left her alone until she went out looking for him, and derived only a small amount of pleasure from pointing her towards the kitchen and its meager array of food, imagining the way the apples and the bread would turn her stomach, the way she would have to battle between her hunger and her disgust. He would have walked her to the kitchens himself, but he had other pressing matters. There were magical artifacts and ingredients to collect, and deals to make, after all, so he flew out just after his interaction with the little chit, content on imagining rather than seeing her unhappiness as she got to know her new home. There was no shortage of blood and gore around the castle, especially in the rooms dedicated to his studies. As a dragon he was, by nature, a hoarder. And though most of his kind tended to beautiful things- and it was in his nature too, to seek out what was pleasing to the eye- he had always focused on power. Power in the form of ancient magical items, rare ingredients and potions and knowledge and mastery of spells and incantations. 

His line of enquiry required him to cut open a lot of animals, from common vermin to oxes and the like, either in search of ingredients or to gauge the result of an experiment. Getting someone to clean up the aftermath had always been a chore, given the unpalatable nature of his work, so he never bothered, choosing only to keep clean those rooms that required it for his experiments. There were entire wings of his castle where the air was thick with the smell of rot and death. In time the little maid could, perhaps, get used to the smell. And the mould. He doubted she would ever get used to the maggots or the flies, though. 

The day proved fruitful enough, with the acquisition of two tricky ingredients he had been having trouble getting his hands on and two favours, no conditions attached, to be used at a later date of his choosing. It always amazed him how careless people were, how narrow-minded their view of a favour was, especially with no specifications. Inevitably when he came to collect and named his price someone would say something along the lines of “You can have anything but that!”, as if they had thought to put conditions to their promised favour when they carelessly gave it away.

He kept his visits to the denizens of the Enchanted Forest short but memorable, remaining unseen when it was convenient to him and growing in size and ferocity when he needed to make an impression. Too much exposure and he’d lose some of the reverential terror he had striven hard to cultivate. Not enough and people would grow complacent and forgetful of the monster in their midst. It was a fine balancing act to remain halfway between myth and reality, but he had perfected it over the years. 

When he arrived home he felt the change almost immediately. Though the little chit was nowhere in immediate sight he could feel her presence about, the definite knowledge that he wasn’t alone. It was a strange sensation, which made him twitchy. He went looking for her, finding her making use of an old bucket, a sliver of lye soap and a coarse brush, down on all fours cleaning the kitchen floor. He could see, even in the dim light provided by the few sputtering torches, that it was slow going, since he had sometimes used the kitchen to open up the animals he needed parts from, and over time a layer of crusted blood and dried entrails had accumulated on the floor, and in splatters on the walls. But now the room looked almost like nothing that violently died there, which was quite a feat.

She was looking the worse for it, though, her dress dirty, the robin’s egg blue looking more like murky grey, her hair beginning to lose its shine, hanging more limply around her shoulders. Her eyes, however, remained stubbornly luminous and defiant. 

“I thought you were a maiden, not a maid.”

He giggled at the way she jumped, clambering to her feet, eager to be in a less vulnerable position in front of a predator such as himself. He saw her glance him over- the novelty of his more human form, he was sure, which tended to be more unsettling for humans, in many ways, than his traditional dragon form- before taking a deep breath and attempting a semblance of a smile.

“I’m just making things a bit more pleasant, that’s all. No reason why my stay here cannot be productive and enjoyable.”

He snorted, plumes of smoke coming out of his nostrils and his mouth, and he watched as she followed the smoke around, fascinated.

“At this rate, dearie, you won’t get past the kitchens.”

And she’d be lucky too. He knew what his castle looked like. A noble lady was unlikely to have the stomach to tackle more than a room or two. And it would be to her benefit, since he was hardly the only danger the castle housed. Several of his treasured magical items were deeply cursed, with magic darker than even his own, and would leave his little maid with at least a missing hand, if not something worse. He told her so, cautioning to never enter a room the little wisp he had conjured for her would not dare go into, delighting in the little flickers of fear that swept through her eyes.

She was a silly little thing, that he unfortunately had to keep alive, but more tenacious than he had given her credit for, as he found out after several weeks of uneasy cohabitation. He almost never showed himself to her, but he spied on her when the mood struck him, mostly to make sure she was alive and in one piece, since he had yet to make any advances on how to break their mutual enchantment. She’d struggled with the food at first, until she’d learned to dip the stale bread in water to soften it, and to distinguish between a bruised fruit or vegetable and a rotten one. She made daily use of the well just outside the kitchens, carrying buckets of water, using an ancient wheelbarrow she had uncovered in the barn, every morning.  It was freezing cold, however, which made every bathing experience an excruciating one, he was sure. The kitchen hearth was clogged and there was not readily available wood to build a fire, so she made do with what she had.

He could have easily made things easier, but he didn’t. The complaints he so sought, however, never came. The girl cried sometimes, in the relative solitude of her room, and looked quietly miserable most of the time, but she never voiced an objection towards her treatment, or expressed any outward sign of displeasure. 

The little chit was resourceful, too. With only the barest of tools and surely the barest of knowledge she managed to find innovative ways of doing everything he set her mind to, from cleaning the castle windows inside out to removing impossible stains or even, one time, scraping congealed blood off the rafters of his laboratory, up in the tallest tower. That had been up there for decades, he had no idea how she had managed to wash it away. He barely remembered how it had gotten there in the first place.

She would not give up on a task until it was finished, pausing only to eat or when she retreated to her dungeon for the night. He found it all deeply… unsatisfying. He had wanted to feast in her misery, to delight in the sight of a human wretched by enduring even a little of the misery humans had foisted on his kind. He had thought it would be grand to see a plushy human suffer as they did, but things were not going according to plan. Blasted girl and her blasted iron pride. He understood, as the weeks dragged on and she remained respectful in her treatment of him whenever she saw him but quietly defiant, that his efforts were for naught. The girl suffered, but in silence, giving him no amount of satisfaction.

As time dragged on he found himself displeased with how his little human wilted. How her hands reddened and her hair grew matted, the cold water doing little to truly rid it of the filth and the sweat that she accumulated while cleaning. She had brought a couple of dresses with her, but both were looking worse for wear, and neither was particularly made for the cold temperatures of the castle, meaning that she spent very little time outside, which made her look pale and sickly. 

He frowned. As a dragon, he was naturally inclined towards beautiful things. Things that looked sparkling and valuable. His maid no longer looked like a treasure, and it bothered his creature sensibilities. Besides, he needed her healthy. There was no telling how her declining health would affect him, given their magical bond. So he instructed his little wisp to direct her to rooms in the castle where he knew there was clothing that would fit her. He had looted his fair share of castles over the century and had accumulated all manner of odds and ends. He had a predilection for fine fabrics, having been brought up by a couple of spinsters as a wee hatchling, so he had taken a fair share of gowns here and there, when a particular colour or texture caught his fancy, all of which he had stored in proper trunks, with all the care he had been taught as a child. There were a few things her size, including some that would be more practical for the wintry weather. 

He unearthed a big copper tub from one of the storage rooms, setting it in a corner of the kitchen beneath a pile of discarded linens, as if he had forgotten it there long ago, along with a pile of wood, properly cut and ready to be made into a fire. Then he cornered her just as she was mopping the entrance hall, instructing her to bathe herself properly, telling her the smell offended even his base sensibilities. She opened her mouth, as if to counteract his insult, but thought better of it and closed it instead.

Later that night he snuck into the kitchens, eager to see if the little chit had stumbled into his carefully-placed gifts and had followed his advice. It was immediately apparent to him that she had, since the kitchen was more luminous than usual, a healthy fire roaring in the hearth and the air damp and smelling of vanilla. He saw her curled up inside the copper tub, steam rising from the fragrant warm water- she had found the bar of vanilla-scented soap he had left deep inside one of the cleaning cupboards, along with a bottle of oil for her hair and a pot of cream for her roughened skin, her soapy hair looking almost red in the light of the low candles. Truly a beautiful human, even with dark circles under her eyes and dirt under her fingernails that would take more than a bath to remove. Fragile little thing too, naked and relaxed, not glaring daggers at him or holding her head up high in silent defiance. He made sure to make a lot of noise before retiring to bed, lest the damnable chit fall asleep in the bath and wake up pruned and chilled. 

He began to bring more food from his incursions outside the castle, sacks of flour and oats, fresh milk and butter that the castle’s larder would keep fresh, sugar and salt and spices. He opened up the castle’s orchards, enchanted into a state of eternal summer, so she could get fruits and vegetables and some much-needed sun and instructed the little wisp to guide her there. It was fascinating to him to see her growing healthy again just from a few small concessions, colour blooming in her cheeks and her demeanor brightened.

It was with a perhaps unusual bit of pride that he came to the conclusion that his little maid was a treasure indeed, beautiful in a way that few maidens stolen by dragons had been. He began to feel possessive of her, like he did of everything else he guarded in his castle. His castle reflected his newfound attachment, losing some of its gloominess in favour of letting in sunlight in the rooms she favoured and keeping dust away from places that the girl would usually spend hours cleaning. He let it happen, reminding himself that her presence in the castle was fleeting, and a few temporary disruptions to his routine were not much concern.

And it wasn’t like he was growing fond of humans in general. His frequent incursions into the outside world kept his dislike for them fresh. Greedy little things who thought the world belonged to them alone, who cut down magical forests and chased creatures away from their homes to raze the land to the ground. When he had been a wee hatchling he had been terrified of them, small and defenceless as he had been, with no kin to protect him or guide him. Over time, as he began to grow in power, he started to see humans as petty vermin beneath his notice, except when one was desperate enough to be manipulated into surrendering something he wanted.

But every now and then, very rarely, a human got the best of him. Surprised him in some way he had not been able to foresee. Very few things could even hurt him anymore, but someone had learned that squid ink was one of them, and had seen fit to catch him with a crossbow on his way back to his castle, having previously tipped the arrow in squid ink. Thankfully it hadn’t done any real damage to the wing, the membrane remaining mostly intact, but it burned like hell and rendered his magic useless till the effects wore off.

He managed to keep himself in the air long enough to make it home, shifting to his more human form with enough energy left to drag himself in front of the fireplace of his trophy room, one plume of smoke igniting it just as he yanked the arrow out, feeling chilled and sluggish as he curled up on the stone floor, feeling the squid ink spread inside him like ice-cold water pouring over him. 

He shrugged it off. It would pass. Squid ink did not last forever, particularly on someone as powerful as him. He’d recover in a few days, would get enough magic back under his control to knit the skin back together and move. He was safe in his home and if the girl chanced upon him he trusted she was smart enough to leave him be.

He woke up what felt like days later, and took a moment to take stock of his condition. He felt as lethargic and sluggish as he had anticipated, his magic responding slowly and weakly to his call, but there was no pain, and no discomfort. The overwhelming cold that had taken over him right before he had passed out was gone, and he could feel something soft and heavy draped over him, keeping him toasty warm.

The next thing he noticed was that someone was bathing his face, a soft cloth with warm water passing across his forehead, over his eyelids and down his neck, soothing the slight ache he could feel there, the remains of a fever recently broken. There was a pleasant smell too, like burnt caramel and vanilla, that seemed to engulf him. He turned his head to the side, his nose chasing after the scent, and realised his head was pillowed on something soft. Something that moved.

“Shh, try not to move.”

The cloth was removed, but before he could protest there was a hand carding through his matted hair, nails scraping just so against his scalp, soothing and not at the same time. 

“What can I do to help, Rumplestiltskin?”

“L-little maid?”

He struggled to get out from under the fog he seemed to be trapped in, feeling weak and vulnerable, exposed. 

“Yes, it’s me. I found you like this a day ago. You had a fever, but it’s finally broken. Is there anything else I can do for you? You’re still bleeding, and I can’t make it stop.”

“Get the wisp.”

A dragon’s flame had sentience of its own if a dragon saw fit to grant it, so his little wisp existed independently of his magic, unaffected by the squid ink, so with a flick of his wrist he set it out to guide the maid into his main laboratory, where he stored, in a small, murky bottle, antidote for the ink. He had told her often, during their few encounters around the castle, to stay out of his laboratories. Had gone into details about all the horrible things that could happen to her if she ventured in there. So he expected her to make a valiant attempt at following the wisp only to cower at the last minute, when common sense prevailed over her sickly-sweet disposition. Didn’t matter, though, the squid ink would fade on its own, it would just take a little longer. 

He closed his eyes, intending to rest them for a minute, but when he opened them up again he knew immediately a long time had passed. The next thing he noticed was that there was a complete absence of pain, even the faint headache he had had before was gone, and when he pulled at his magic it answered back readily. He knew before he moved his shoulder that the arrow wound was gone, his muscle and skin having knit themselves together while he slept. He turned towards the fire, noticing a small amber vial next to him, its contents long gone. He recognised it immediately as the bottle where he kept his squid ink counter potion.

So focused was he on that little amber bottle that he almost jumped off the floor when his little maid came into his field of vision, holding one of her ever-present books with one hand and a glass of water with the other.

“Oh, good, you’re awake. I brought you some water.”

“Go away.”

He burrowed deeper into the quilt she had draped around him, trying not to dislodge the pillow she had placed under his head. He thought about teleporting himself to his nest, but he knew his magic was unreliable at best at the moment and it would be foolish to spend himself so when he was just recovering. 

“This is the only fire roaring in the entire castle, and I’m too tired to light the hearth in the kitchen.”

“The wisp can light it for you.”

He knew he was sounding petulant and ungrateful but he didn’t much care. Whatever it would take to get rid of the little chit so he could have some peace and quiet.

“Flicker has done more than enough. He deserves some rest.”

“You named it?!”

He watched as the little wisp came running, as if called, and danced around the maid’s fingers, as if enjoying a caress.

“Some more sleep would do you good, I think. And maybe some food, when you’re up for it.”

He continued to go in and out of sleep, still too weak to feel comfortable using magic but not enough to complacently acquiesce to his little maid’s coddling. Eager for some solitude he tried to scare her away with his temper, conjuring up even a few plumes of fire and more than a bit of smoke, once managing to singe a bit of the hemline of her dress and the spine of one of her precious books. The latter seemed to be the only thing that truly bothered her, causing her to disappear from his side for an entire afternoon. He told himself he was happy about that, but he couldn’t deny the little twinge of relief when she finally came back, carrying a plate with shredded meat and some more water.

“Maybe you’ll be nicer after eating a bit.”

She was fearless, more so than he had previously given her credit for, refusing to shy away no matter what he did to try and spook her. She was, indeed, a most prized treasure, unique amongst humans, which would explain why the Blue Fairy had failed so spectacularly at making her a dragon’s last sacrifice. 

Too good to kill, he decided as he devoured the meat. Once he figured out how to undo what that little gnat had done to them, he would give her some of his gold and let her walk away and explore the world to her heart’s content.

[starburr]

Headcanons time again.

Sasha isn't one to buy cookies but sometimes she makes an exception when the cookie is very crisp, but the inside is just ooey gooey chocolate. Mostly because she's trying to cut back on carbs, usually saving her wallet's contents for a rainy day. Well, until it starts raining cookies (not literally).

Marcy loathes the fact Anne and Sasha are all the way in another state over while she's stuck elsewhere, but they all come to an agreement to visit. Problem being, the other two didn't exactly warn her that they'd show up in suits, sasha's car looking extra clean, and brought an embarrassingly large bouquet of flowers. She complains with a "Really guys, flowers?" Right as Sasha pulls out a gift-wrapped saber, winking at Anne as she goes "Guess you owe me 15 bucks, baby!" To which the brunette snickers, not even mildly annoyed by the fact she has to pay up, doing so even diligently into the blonde's outstretched left hand. Needless to say, a lot of sword-fighting lessons were had by the three, each taking turns with the weapon as they tried to teach Marcy proper stance and form.

Anne decided to read up on dinosaurs again. Not so casually as she might have in her childhood, only noting how those big lizards looked so much different than how her scholastic and eyewitness books had showed before. Now, she had access to the Internet, and even followed a few paleontologist accounts. Then came the youtube videos, uploads from dvd exclusive dinosaur documentaries, almost always about an hour and a half long. It only took a month, but she was talking about them with as much gusto as she did her job. Marcy can keep up with the conversation for only so long, getting lost even in why Anne was describing phylogenetic bracketing amongst theropods. Sasha ends it with a "You know, 'Rawr' means 'I love you' in dinosaur." They both jump on her, smothering her playfully into the sofa as they kept 'roaring'.

Marcy was home alone, well, she thought so. And she also thought she could use a bath. Going to use the bathroom quickly disproved the former thought as she suddenly heard footsteps from downstairs as soon as she latched the door closed. They seemed hurried. Perhaps having waited for Marcy to close the door so they could go do, well, whatever the frog they were up to down there. The warm water streamed down her face, the sponge she scrubbed against her arms was a little too soft. Oh well, better scrub a little harder then. She thought as she squirted a drop of shampoo into her hand. The footsteps started up again, accompanied now by a ding! That's weird. She thought, almost assuming it might have been an intruder since Sasha had left for work about an hour ago. Then she realized, Anne was on leave today. Oh, of course she's up to something. Her instincts were right, as she immediately heard a "MAR-MAR DON'T COME DOWN YET WAIT!!!" as soon as she had taken a step down the stairs. She had already dried off and gotten in some shorts, but she figured to be a little patient. And was that? Yes, the familiar smell of herbs and garlic was indeed wafting through the air, and she could not wait to ask Anne what the occasion was.

It was a normal morning in the house. The sun shining down into their windows, while the chilly winter air had blown in, probably through the garage. Marcy and Sasha were already up and about, making themselves breakfast as the analog clock indicated it was half past 9. Truly a normal morning. Well, up until Marcy opened her mouth. "Gromit suffers more than Jesus Christ." The very sentence that left Sasha dumbfounded today, almost doing a spit take into her mug of hot milk. "Huh, what?!?!?" Her exclamation of disbelief had no apparent effect on Marcy, who continued to explain why exactly that was, despite not being the most religious person among the three. A few hours later, and Sasha was fully locked in, listening to her spouse and somehow about to agree with her that the clay animated cartoon beagle had to bear more burden than the Son of God. Anne had yet to stir. Had she done any earlier than now, then she might have glimpsed a nonsensical discussion between the two.

Sasha didn't really like cotton candy. 'Didn't really' because she's only ever remembered being alright with it, just a neutral opinion but never wanting to get it in her teeth. Anne on the other hand was definitely not cotton candy, yet she would rather taste every crease and fold of Anne on her tongue than some state fair confection. Also, no toothaches. Marcy could attest to how sweet she could be, citing instances where Anne would come home with takeout in tow for the two of them. Even catching her and Sasha already having their mouths smushed up against each other in a passionate entanglement. And of course, she'd duly join in after a bit of teasing. "Hey Anna-banana~ You really just went for it huhh~?" She giggled as Sasha blushed hard, covering her face as if it would appease some unseen audience like a kid with a crush. But she knew she couldn't hide it. Especially with Marcy's arms wrapping around her waist from behind, she was trying very hard not to invite them to nip teasingly at her neck. The takeout could wait. The last thought she had before she let herself sit on Marcy's lap.

[celerydays]

What program do you use to make your fanart? Is it on just an average ipad or is there special ones just for art? Your work looks so good! I’m wanting to try digital art but unsure where to start :)

I use the Procreate app for all of my digital art! ✨

It should be available on any iPad 💗 I personally invested for my birthday this past year and I have the 12.9" M2 iPad Pro, but I'll even occasionally use my fiancé's iPad Mini and the Procreate app on there in a pinch since it's so small and portable~

The only real difference is that performance might suffer a bit, the larger an art piece is or how many layers your work has, depending on the iPad. But if you're just starting out, I probably wouldn't find that to be much of an issue!

(More rambling about digital art origins under cut ✨)

There's definitely a learning curve, especially if you're more used to drawing traditionally! It can help to still sketch traditionally (if that's what you're used to) and then upload a photo of your drawing to your tablet to work over digitally (this is personally how I started out and I used to just make little digital doodles by tracing and coloring over my traditional sketches.)

A small doodle from my sketchbook that I traced and colored digitally, from around 2011-2012, I think? Uh, happy Doctor Who day today!

My very first digital art set up was actually a tiny Wacom Bamboo tablet where the drawing space probably wasn't even bigger than my hand, and a super old bootleg version of Photoshop CS2 which was already a version that was 7 years too old for the time (CS5/CS6 was the most updated version by the time I had started on digital art).

Everyone else in my class had the bigger/fancier/professional-grade Wacom Intuos and I remember my professor taking one look at my baby tablet and just going like "how tf are you drawing on that" lmao.

But still! Experimenting and doing little exercises can get you a long way – I would say to approach it with similar exercises you would do as if you were learning to draw traditionally for the first time.

Shade in circles/nail down basic lighting. Gesture drawings. Random scribbles. Just things that help you get used to the feel of digital art!

Test out different textures you can achieve with one brush, then expand it to see how other different types of brushes can behave and add to the experience.

For proof that even just one brush and not the best/most updated tools can work: these are two of my first more "serious" digital art projects I did in college (with my tiny tablet and mega outdated version of Photoshop) and 99% of the rendering was just done with the "soft airbrush" brush.

But even then, we were taught to create our base sketches traditionally and upload them to the program to work over.

Then one day I decided I wanted to just be able to also do all my sketches digitally and just worked on getting used to sketching straight on my digital program. It was then that besides the all-powerful undo-redo buttons, I started to really make use of the transform/canvas flip/liquify features which I don't think I can live without now lol. (Caveat: I'm now a little too dependent on those features so I keep a traditional sketchbook to do silly doodles in occasionally to exercise my hand because sketching traditionally without the buffer of those digital tools is pretty difficult for me now lol.)

That was a little long-winded, I'm so sorry hahaha. I hope something in this rambling could be taken as somewhat helpful for starting out on digital art!! 💗

[natsuki208]

I Wanted to be Beside You…

Before the Battle of Heaven and Earth commended, Marco and Jean have a bittersweet conversation while tending to their wounds.

(This is a re-upload of a fic I did on ao3 a year ago, to celebrate my 1000th post 🎉)

——————————————————————————

The sky is full of smoke and ashes, the sun is not shining as brightly as before all of this, and the only sound that can be heard is the distant footsteps of the rumbling titans. Thank god that the remaining members of the Scout Legion and the Marleyan warriors manage to set sail with the Flying Boat and make their way towards Eren Jaeger's destination; but at the price of suffering through yet another gruesome battle.

Everyone aboard are still cooling off from the said battle: Armin is still in bed regenerating from the gunshot he received from Samuel, with Mikasa and Sasha checking up on him, Reiner, Annie and Pieck are also resting from fighting in their titan forms for a while, and Hange aiding Onyankopon with preperations as of keeping and eye on an injured Levi. As well as most of them mourning over recently losing the Marleyan general.

Meanwhile, at the rear of the ship, Jean Kirstein has been dealing with some long bandages. He's been helping to aid the wounds of his long time friend, Marco. He took a pretty big blow to his leg by one of the Yaegerists, but got extremely lucky that it is still mobile and he's able to walk. Jean is being as careful as he can be to wrap it up nicely.

Marco hisses a little at the pain in his shin.

"Stay still. It'll only get worse if you move." The tone in Jean's voice is both stern yet concern; clearly he's trying his best not to hurt Marco.

Jean manages to wrap the bandage just right. Once that was settled, Marco rests his head back on the bars of the ship. The freckled man was already torn up on losing an eye and arm four years prior, so it's a relief to him that he's able to keep his leg. Jean starts cleaning up the things he emptied out of the first-aid kit, then he quickly looks over to his friend tending to his wound.

He looks very distress - and it's probably not just from the agonizing pain in his leg. His expression shows he is drifting off into his own world, curling up his legs towards his chest, and the saddening frown that he's had for a long while can make anyone sad along with him. Jean remembers this impression, it's similar to how he behaved when they had that campfire in the forest with the Marleyan warriors, so he can instantly tell what's on his mind.

After packing away the kit, he stands up over Marco and looks down on his disheartened friend.

"Can I sit here along with you?"

Marco catches ear of the question, but simply nods without looking up. Jean sits down a few inches away from him.

Neither of them say anything at first, just to have a minute to themselves as the ocean breeze flows through their hair. If only the situation they are in were different so it would allow them to enjoy the limited peace. On that thought alone, Marco finally speaks.

"T-Thank you for doing this for me."

Jean turns his head around to face Marco. "Of course, we're comrades. Well... base on that fact anyone could've helped, but you're glad that I did, right?"

"Y-Yeah."

The silence returns again. Only breaking with a sigh from Marco's breath.

"You really have changed a lot, haven't you?"

"Hmm? What do you mean?" Jean asks, glancing over and feeling disappointed to not see him smiling.

"Years ago, you mentioned time and time again... that someone like you could never be strong enough to act selflessly in battle.

Just as Jean expected; although a little surprising. This isn't like anything he would ever bring up before, further evidence that there's something bothering him. Then again, he's still right. Jean gives a smile while continuing to look upon his friend; maybe even shifting a bit closer to him.

"I seem to recall a way-too responsible guy once telling me that I can be a great leader but not because I'm strong, but that I understand the weak. Because I'm like everyone else, scared out of my mind, it makes me trustworthy among my comrades. It took me so damn long to realize that, and I owe that guy a lot."

Marco freezes. To hear those exact words he said to him repeated by Jean himself, like they are printed at the front of his mind, he doesn't know what to feel. It reflects back to what such a naïve and desperate boy he used to be - God, how could he have been like this?

Jean rubs the back of his neck while still smiling. "What I'm trying to say is... you're really the most selfless guy I've ever known. So we should all be thankful to you, especially me."

That's the last straw. Marco pulls in his legs further, slightly lowering his head to bury it in them. But he stops himself, takes a big breath which Jean catches on. What could possibly be bothering him now?

"Jean..." Marco starts, letting go of his legs with his one hand. "Do you remember when I first joined the Scouts? And that I told you, Reiner and Armin that I'm doing this 'cause it's better to fight, to protect my comrades and do what's right for humanity?"

"Yes. Of course I do." Jean nods positively.

Marco pauses before continuing. "Well... the truth is... that wasn't my main reason to."

The tone in his voice is quavering, sounding like he could burst into tears any minute.

"The reason why I joined them... it's b-because I wanted to be beside you!"

Jean's expression shows complete shock. He can see the tears in Marco's eye and blush spreading right across his face; he knows that he's telling the truth. They stare at each other for a second before Marco turns away and looks down onto the floor - presumably to hide his ashamed face. Jean can feel himself getting all achy inside, not from the fact that Marco 'lied' to him, but that every selfless move that he did for him ever since they met make SO much more sense now.

Surely Marco was nice to every one of his friends, but he seemed always confused of why him out of all of them, and why he always seemed hesitant whenever he talked or helped out Mikasa. Even after all of that, why is Marco getting so upset about it? Does he regret choosing him over some old dream? No, that can't be it, and Jean has to figure out why.

"I-I'm so sorry, Jean." Marco sobs between sentences. "All this time... *sniff* you think that I'm the most thoughtful person in our world. But all I ever did were ways just to get closer to you 'cause of these stupid feelings."

Jean starts to get infuriated the more Marco spouts out nonsense words and untrue statements.

"You probably only see me as your comrade... or best friend... but I had to let you know. *sniff* After lying to you, almost killing Reiner myself, and allowing myself to fall in for Floch's so called justice... I don't deserve to be seen in the good light. Or even your friend."

"YES YOU DO!!"

Before he knew it, Jean is suddenly right in front of him, grabbing onto his shoulders with such anger in his eyes. Marco hasn't seen Jean like this in a long time with just between the two of them, leaving him scared of what can possibly be said.

"Why the hell would you think such a stupid thing?! You're nowhere near the slightest of a shitty person and you know it!"

There is a pause.

"B-But... I'd..."

"You said it yourself, doing it for me was only part of the reason you're a scout now. How about when you aided Armin with most of his plans? You worrying about Eren when he was in Liberio? You even showed compassion for Gabi and Falco this morning before we left! How can you be so blind to your own actions?!"

Another pause occurs. Giving Jean time to calm his voice.

"You may not think it, but you're still the same Marco that we all came to admire. Surely your world view has changed, but hell, so have all of ours ever since we came here. We still got a great battle ahead of us, and we'll all be needing each other to finish it. We need to bring peace back into this world... and all of us need you to help us... I need you."

Marco doesn't say anything yet, just allowing another tear to fall down his cheek. Jean lets go of his grip on Marco and almost stands up to give Marco his space. But he quickly notices a light giggle come out of his mouth, he turns his head up and sees Marco gleefully staring right back at him, his eye full of serenity.

"Th-Thank you, Jean. I needed to hear that." He says dryly - his throat is still raspy from his crying.

"Yeah." Jean replies with a smile back.

It fades once he starts thinking again. He may never get a chance like this with Marco again 'if' they fail their mission, so why leave things the way they are now? The least he can do is give Marco once last bit of hope. He looks straight at Marco and this time, gently places one hand on his shoulder.

"Marco..."

He hesitates. Leaving Marco mentally preparing himself when he admits that he only sees him as a close friend and comrade.

"I... I gave up on Mikasa years ago."

One line that sets Marco stunned. More so than Jean's reaction when he confessed. Jean's face blushing pure red, even looking away in embarrassment. Marco is both deep down happy and surprised, surprised to realize that Jean has been basically doing the same thing as him, hiding away his true feelings. But he is really relieved and happy that they both manage to say what they want to say, especially right before what could be their last fight against their enemy.

Both men glance at each other for a moment longer, but before one of them can speak, another voice calls for them from the distance. Commander Hange is waving up from an open window in the ship, sounding like they've been calling out to them throughout their entire conversation.

"HEY! I DON'T MEAN TO INTERRUPT, BUT WE NEED YOU TO GET OUR GEAR RUNNING! WE'RE APPROACHING OUR DESTINATION ANY MINUTE, GOT THAT?!"

"Yes Commander! We're on it!" Jean yells back at them.

Marco stands up carefully, using his one arm and Jean walks over to their equipment just beside them then both slowly make their way across the deck. Marco doesn't take his eyes off of Jean. He doesn't notice, but he gives him a small yet gentle smile at him, one that he hopes to give him over and over again once the war is finally over.

[pallas-perspective]

Well, at the time of writing this my posts STILL aren't back. If they really are gone forever I guess I'll have to give a full rundown of everything I do again. For now though, I'll just cover a few basics as I explain today's client, Primrose the Delcatty!

(I was gonna upload a video but those seem to be screwed rn too. UGH.)

Delcatty (for those who don't know) are feline pokemon known for their wonderfully stylish fur. They typically have positive temperaments and will avoid fighting if possible, unless otherwise trained (in which case, their ability to normalize can set up a good paralysis on ground types, which most don't see coming, but that's a tangent). They're crepuscular and normally very good at grooming themselves.

Many people believe that there's no reason for feline pokemon to be groomed at all. Those people are wrong. First of all, it can be a wonderful experience for the 'mon, a great way to relax and feel refreshed. Secondly, there are many occasions where it may become medically necessary for one to be groomed. In such cases, it helps to get them used to things like brushes and water when they are young, so that they aren't suddenly exposed to a bunch of new experiences when they're in a state of distress.

NOW. I've worked with Primrose before and she's very used to the grooming process, so I won't need to speak much on dealing with difficult felines. (Their temperament usually means you have to be much more careful then with most 'mons, especially with how much distress you could cause them.)

Primrose was in for a regular comfort grooming and also to deal with some matting in her bells. Trying to smooth out the fur there can often result in a lot of tugging... which results in most Delcatty wanting to leave. In those cases, shaving out the matts is often necessary. Here though, I was able to brush most of them out by switching between brushes and plying her with treats (yay food motivation!).

It's important to try and get as much of the tangles done in the initial brush as it makes washing and especially drying a whole lot easier. There's not much to say about the washing process here, except for the fact that Primrose loves laying down during it and it means I had to halfway lift her up to get at her stomach (Oscar if you're reading this I had to carry a whole wet pokemon because you weren't here. I'm suffering babe.)

Next up was a towel dry and then the drier. Primrose is used to myself and the whole process, but the noise still stresses her out. That's why I put a fabric band around her head that compresses and swaddles her, keeping her calm and her ears away from any high-pressure air.

Finally I shaved out the long fur around her her paw pads, that way she doesn't track dirt and it gives her better traction... and done!

Her owner does like to battle with her, so I won't be doing anything vis a vis her nails.

Primrose has sensitive skin and thus most poke-safe makeup isn't good for her, but over the last year we've tested out a few bottles of perfume to find one that she is comfortable with AND happy with.

After that, she's off prancing around the room like a Deerling!

If things clear up with this damn website I'll try and get a photo or two of her uploaded but for now...

Thanks for seeing through Pallas' perspective! I'll see you next time!

[ayupimqueen]

My sleepy rant about my fallout ocs i did instead of studying

Warning this is long af but I’m an idiot who likes uploading random stuff nobody reads

Time for a small rant about my ocs their stories and my love for the fallout universe everyone, I cant keep the thoughts on my head so yeah sorry

I think the reason I’ve started to grow so fond of fallout lately is because I find a lot more hope in it than in my life now.

I mean Fallout 3 is a really personal game to me because of some family issues that happened (and are still going on) when I first played the game (we’ll come back to this in a bit).

And now watching the world fcking rot before my eyes and not being able to do anything because despite what people think the reality is that a single person can’t change the world unless the people with money say so

And now when I play this games I just like to feel that maybe I still have a future despite what happens, because now I feel that it’s too late to save the world.

And I see the stories of the characters I created for this world, and how I’ve given each one of them a part of my life.

And then i noticed a pattern of you say.

All of my character (except for one), despite of what happens, have a happy ending related to something I want or that has happened to me:

Lets start with the odd one out: hope who just dies at the end.

Hope is probably my saddest character EVER (she’s suffered even more than my Minecraft oc and I used to think that was impossible) her dad leaves her, she is exiled from the vault, gets hated on by everyone, has the worst luck ever and feels alone always, then thers a bit of a break when she gets a friend but then she finds his dad and everything goes downhill to the point that even tho she has people with her she just feels alone.

I wont go deep on her story because i want to write it.

I’ll just say that from a certain point she knows she is going to d ie somehow, her friends try to stop it but she still dies, and for worse she dies because she wasn’t important to the brotherhood. She gave everything to everyone and people took advantage of her.

Her name is close to my deadname, and I based bits of her story and personality from how I felt at the time when I first played the game and even her looks are based off of me irl but in a “preattier” way that I used to want. So I guess she is a way of showing the shittier part of my life and how it’s kind of the part of me that I want to get rid off.

Then we have the other side of the coin: Reina

They started as an self insert oc that escalated into a bigger character that made me actually develop the other ocs

They are the contrary to Hope, mostly because they are based of my personality, issues and objectives that I have now. Also their looks are closer to both the persona I use online and what I wished I looked irl now. Their name is also just my chosen name but in Spanish and I chose a cool last name lmao. And she is from center Mexico because fuck yeah it’s my country lmao

Reina also has many issues, as their backstory is the exaggerated version of my mommy issues, but instead of a regular mom- genderless offspring thing i go trough Its a Evil selfish ahole rich mom vs rebel “daughter” who is neglected and abused. But the thing I like to focus on while thinking of their story, and the thing that is closer to my actual life, is her search for love.

They were raised by neglecting parents that litterary saw them as a “economic opportunity”, marring them to a narcissistic guy and shattering al their dreams.

Then they forget all of that thanks to the power of the script and amnesia trope and they get to meet Hancock, who ends up loving them and have character growth and all that jazz. (I’m writing the fic I swear I just don’t get to concentrate)

In the end Reina gets to be happy, as they represent the me I am today, while Hope dies as she is one of my most horrible moments. Both being an exaggerated version of what I lived because I’m a sucker for angst and hurt/confort stories.

Then is the sexy af middle ground i call Rose Garza.

She is a bit of a miscellaneous character, i made her from the north of Mexico because I lived there as a child and her design was just me creating a character based on some of the things I consider attractive and her personality is like the silly part of me.

The sad part of her strory isn’t based of something that happened to me or similar but something that works more for her character.

The one issue I gave her based on me is that she wants to have friends but she is either abandoned forgotten or legged out.

She also has the thing of finding a loved one but in a different people only like her for her looks way, but that doesn’t happen to me so yeah.

She is the silly one of the group I guess.

I can’t rant on Venus and Mars yet because I haven’t finished the first two games and I don’t even have the final name for my fallout 74 oc( they are totally hailing mothman tho lmao)

So yeah that my rant, im sleep deprived so sorry you all have to deal withe the parasites in my head lmao

[theguardiansseries]

From the Beginning - Chapter 2: Saying I’m Fine Doesn’t Make You Fine (Although That Doesn’t Stop Dani From Trying)

A/N: Let's see if I can't get an upload schedule going! For now, tentatively, we're going to see if I can't get a chapter up every Wednesday and Saturday! Will I stick to it? Let's find out!

--

Rating: Teen Audiences

Summary:

Dani Fenton (who is sometimes starting to go by Danny Fenton) is a fifteen-year-old almost sophmore who was just going about her normal life when she figured out she sort of liked being seen as a boy. Oh, then he (he had definitely been a he at the time) got shocked by a machine his parents built to view into another world that they believed contained a world of 'ecotplasmic entities.'

Danny really isn't sure how to tell them that they were right and that he was in the machine when it turned on and that maybe he isn't so human anymore. (He might also not be a girl anymore, but that one was a little more difficult to explain than the fact that he ((she?)) might be half-ghost.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54944266/chapters/139461646

Chapters: <<First>> <Prev || Next>

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Chapter 2: Saying I’m Fine Doesn’t Make You Fine (Although That Doesn’t Stop Dani From Trying)

Sitting patiently, Dani was absolutely certain that she was going to lose her mind if her sister didn’t finish taking her temperature for the thousandth time- “99.9.” Ah, crap. Here it came. “Okay, I see that face you’re making, and I know your first day is coming up, but-”

“Jazz come on, I’m fine,” Dani groaned, trying not to think about how it felt as if she had been ripped out of her body and then stuffed back inside only for the entire fit to feel wrong. “Besides, 99.9 isn’t a fever. It’s me being trapped in bed under half a dozen blankets because our crazy parents seem to think ‘sweating it out’ is the best cure.”

Jazz was quiet for a moment, tapping the thermometer against her palm with the look she often got when they talked about their parents’ attempts at actually parenting them, “Yeah, because sweating it out during summer under an extreme amount of blankets is healthy alright.” Ah, she did so love sarcastic Jazz — even if that came at the expense of parent Jazz. “Dani, you were in a major accident-” 

“It’s been almost two weeks.” It had felt more like two years, but Dani liked to think she was handling the time with grace. “C’mon, even the doctors said I was fine after that first night-!”

“They did not say you were fine, they said you were stable,” Jazz stressed, nervously trying to take her temperature again. Dani probably would have fought more if she still didn’t remember just how terrified Jazz had been during that time. Her first memory of seeing Jazz after her Accident had been her looking wrecked. It definitely wasn’t a stretch to say her sister, who was a very firm five years older than her, looked after her more like an actual mom than a sister. 

Considering too that Jazz had seen everything every step of the way, she was probably right to call Dani out on her bullshit of being fine. It was after Jazz started glaring at the thermometer again that Dani sighed and conceded, “Alright, maybe I’m not exactly fine, but I’m definitely doing better than I was.” 

Jazz gave her a long, hard stare before it softened and she pulled Dani into a warm, familiar hug. She then ruined it by saying, “99.9 is still a fever, like it or not.” 

“Ugh!” Breaking the hug and collapsing back on her bed with a groan, Dani gave Jazz her best betrayed look. “Come on, already! Haven’t I suffered enough by missing the rest of my summer vacation? You’re going to make me a social outcast and doom me to a life of failure and flipping burgers by making me miss my first day back in high school?”

The first day back at their age was the same as being given an armistice to scope out enemy lines, map out escape routes as needed, and decide who would be allies and who would be sacrificed for the greater good. It wasn’t something to take lightly-! Hm. That sounded a little too much like Sam, actually.

Still. It wasn’t a day she could dismiss just because she had gone through some stupid ‘major traumatic event’ where she had apparently been actually, honestly dead for a couple minutes after being shocked by millions of volts of electricity- “I just don’t want you to overdo things and hurt yourself, Dani. You and I both know you have a habit of pushing yourself when you shouldn’t.”

Looking up at Jazz, it didn’t take much to see that worried, scared look in her eyes again. If they were being technical, Dani hadn’t been the only one to go through a major traumatic event — she was pretty sure Jazz thinking her baby sister was dead for a few minutes was traumatic all on its own. 

“Jazz.” Dani sat up, taking Jazz’s closest hand and giving a small squeeze. “Look, I know you’re probably sick of hearing me say I’m fine and everything, but I’m… I’m getting better, okay? I’m healing. I’m resting like I’m supposed to. I’m taking whatever meds they shoved at me. I’m even eating whatever awful healthy crap you give me! I know you’re worried, but come on. I’m still here — pulse, annoying attitude, and everything else.” 

Finally — finally — Jazz gave a startled snort of laughter before squeezing Dani’s hand back with a shake of her head. “Okay, okay, I get it. As long as your fever breaks then fine, you can go to the first day of school.” 

“Yes!” Dani threw her arms up, ignoring the aches and pain from where she had been doing nothing but lying in bed for weeks. “It’s legally binding we were holding hands when you said it! And 99.1 doesn’t count as a fever!” 

“99.9, however, does.” Jazz snorted and shook her head before standing up and gently pushing Dani back down into the blankets. “So that means rest, fluids, and not overdoing it. I’ll go start on dinner and check on you in a couple hours, okay?”

“Yes, mom,” Dani rolled her eyes, the familiar teasing name making Jazz roll her eyes back just as sarcastically. It was great. “I’ll just sit up here in my room lazing around with nothing to do but play video games and talk to my friends.” 

Jazz gave another laugh, not leaving until after a ruffle to Dani’s hair and a warm smile. As soon as the door closed, Dani didn’t waste a second before she pulled out her phone and immediately called up Sam and Tucker for a video call. Her friends, gems that they were, answered immediately. 

“Took a while, but Jazz’s paranoia is calming down and it looks like I’ll be good to go when it comes to the first day of school.”

“That’s my boy!” Sam cheered before pausing. “Or shall it be girl, today? Or neither. Neither is also a valid option!”

“It’s just girl today,” Dani said, thinking back to Jazz’s reaction when she had finally asked about the new clothes. Dani was pretty sure she knew it was something a little more than just ‘a new look,’ but she hadn’t pried about it. Her parents, so far as she could tell, hadn’t noticed anything, but that was par for the course, and they were probably more distracted by the whole electrocution thing. “And probably will be for as long as I’m trapped in bed. Not like there’s any reason to go all guy or whatever.”

Ah, and there began Sam’s rant about gender experience and expression and identity and how it all connected and didn’t connect. Tucker, sharking a look with Dani, removed his headphones. Truly, Dani could time it all by clockwork- 

Ringing. There was a sharp ringing in her ears loud enough to make her eyes slam shut, breathing hitching as all sound then vanished, an afterimage of bright green light blinding her as words were pressed into her skin, a deep thrumming of too dangerous to let this come to pass!

Swirls of blue replaced the green and there were more words, wrapping around her throat, a shimmering, sickly must stop this at once, Clockwork! 

Tick. 

Tock. 

Tick. 

Tock. 

Purple overwhelmed her and I’m afraid this has long been set in motion. Perhaps if you deign to look beyond the surface you’re so fond of skimming over you could see the change that… Ah. Interesting. 

Colors overwhelmed her where there should be nothing but black and the sound of ticking just at the back of her head made her struggle and gasp for breath and- 

“Dani!” Immediately wincing at hearing her name screamed by both of her friends, Dani groaned, hating how it sounded more like a whimper. God, it felt like head was about to explode.

“Ugh, guys, take it easy, I’m fragile and almost dead here. What’s with all the shouting-” 

“Oh, gee, lemme think.” Oof, that was Sam’s upset, sarcastic tone of voice that meant she was going to yell some more. Dani wondered if her earplugs were nearby. “Maybe the fact you just went silent, stared at nothing-” (stared at nothing? but her eyes had been closed, hadn't they? “-and didn’t so much as twitch for minutes!”

“Less than,” Tucker chimed in, waving a stopwatch in view of his camera. It was hard to read it over a video call on her phone, but she was pretty sure it hadn’t gone that far over a minute. “Timed it, but yeah, no, that was scary as fuck. Are you alright? Did you have a seizure? I don’t know how to help with seizures, Dani!”

“Whoa, whoa, guys, calm down.” Jeez her friends could be overprotective — and that was coming from her, who had a very bad case of using too much energy to help people when she didn’t really need to. “I didn’t have a seizure, I think I just dozed off for a bit. Haven’t been getting much sleep.”

The looks she was given made her feel both offended and like she needed new friends. It was a shame she was stuck with her current ones. (Alright, so she loved them and adored the fact they cared and worried for her, but still.)

Sighing, Dani slumped back against her pillows, adjusting her phone. “Look,” she settled on. “I know it wasn’t some kind of seizure and I had some weird dream thing flash in my head for a few seconds, so I think I’m just very close to REM sleep because my body’s trying to recuperate from what happened.” 

“Ooh, science Dani,” Tucker teased, ‘looking’ at Sam. “That’s how you know she’s being serious about it.” Right. Tucker had five more chances before Dani gave up on him and dropped him off at a nice geek orphanage. He’d at least build them a router out of scrap metal just so he could keep having Wi-Fi. 

“Fine,” Sam said after a long moment, pouting about the matter. “But if it happens again I’ll tell your parents.” Ha. That wasn’t a threat- “And Jazz.”

Tucker laughed even as Dani whined and that wasn’t fair. “C’mon, Sammy, you know she’d fuss and hover over me for weeks if you do that! You’ve seen how bad she is already!” It had been bad enough when Jazz found them while they were still down there- Not thinking about it. Nope. This was her. Not thinking about it. “And… In case I didn’t already say it, thanks, you guys. For covering for me.” 

“Of course,” Tucker snorted. “It’s not like we were going to tell anyone that you went in there on your own — especially Jazz. She would have killed all three of us.”

Sam hummed, stroking her chin in thought, “Do you think we would have gotten a discount if we were buried at the same time? Triple funeral?”

Relaxing as she watched and listened to Sam and Tucker start planning out their funerals, Dani gave a soft sigh, her friend’s antics making weird dream-induced anxiety into nothing more than a whisper. 

Reaching for her laptop to properly get some serious gaming done, and switch the call to something without shitty phone speakers, Dani had to pull her hand back with a swear because fucking static shock. 

“A miracle! Lightning does indeed strike twice!” Tucker declared, Sam giving a horrified laugh while Dani tried to decide whether to laugh or curse some more. She decided he was down to four chances. “Seriously, how many times have you been shocked since you got home?”

“More than enough,” Dani huffed, poking at her laptop before finally dragging it onto her bed. “Not too worried, though, just some static shock from lying in bed with these stupid blankets all the time. Now, who wants to help me conquer the world?”

While her friends rushed to their own computers, Dani flexed her hand where she had, yet again, been shocked. If there was one thing she was looking forward to most about being able to leave her bed and Jazz-forced quarantine, it was no longer getting shocked by just trying to pick something up. Thankfully, though, that wouldn’t be long. 

Her life would be back on track and back to normal and Dani could go about surviving the next year of high school. 

⁂

Danny wasn’t sure if he was going to survive long enough to get to high school. Like, yeah, okay, almost shocked to death and now he had some heart problems and a couple of breathing problems and was a lot more clumsy, great, that was fine- Not fine. It wasn’t fine, but it was something he was coping with. 

No, that was all liveable, at least. The whole not surviving thing came about because everything electronic around him decided to hate him. 

It had started with his phone. Being confined, trapped, and chained to his bed for an eternity had left him with little to do besides dick around on his phone and constantly call and talk to his friends whenever they weren’t able to come over and infect his room. The problem that arose that prevented him from constantly calling and talking with them, however, was that his phone decided to die twenty minutes after a full charge. 

The first few times Danny could forgive. There had definitely been times before when he thought he had a full charge and his phone, his stupid, stupid phone, hadn’t given him a low battery warning before it shut itself off. The fifth time of it happening, however, had Danny beginning to craft an argument to use on his parents for why he needed a new phone because his was obviously broken. 

And it would have been fine at that — because phones died and phone companies were jerks and new models came out all the time — but it wasn’t just his phone. It was also his laptop. And his lamp. And his bedroom lights. And basically everything electronic with wires that he managed to come into contact with. 

“I dunno, Danny, maybe it has something to do with you basically being struck by radioactive lightning in a lab accident- Ooh! What if you got superpowers-”

“Be serious for once in your life, Tuck. An accident like this is more likely to give him radiation sickness than it is to give him powers-”

“Hey, guys, yeah, the whole talking about radioactivity and me dying thing? Really not helping with this experiment.” Danny shot a glare at his phone — which was propped up against his wooden table and windowsill with nothing metal at all anywhere near it and Danny not so much as touching it.

Over the video call Sam rolled her eyes while Tucker snorted. Danny ignored them both and kept a careful eye on the battery power left in his phone. It was, at that exact moment, at forty-seven percent. Slowly, so slowly, Danny reached out and tapped a corner of his phone. It dropped to forty-three. “Are you kidding me?!”

“How much did it drop by?” Tucker asked, already sitting back and pulling a pen and notebook into view. 

“Started at forty-seven. I tapped the right bottom corner, since it’s propped up sideways, and it dropped to forty-three.” Danny was satisfied only by the fact that Sam and Tucker gave winces with the proper amount of pain. 

“Yeah, that- Yeah, no, that’s just weird,” Tucker shook his head, looking down at his notes and then back at Danny. “Hey, have you considered it’s something to do with that mirror portal thing being on? I mean… how much power does that thing use? It’s probably blowing through the generators and making everything in the house flicker or have power problems.”

Danny paused, leaning back in his chair and that… that would make a lot of sense, now that he thought about it. Especially if what his parents and Tucker said were true about how much power it ate through. “I mean… I haven’t heard Jazz or anyone complain about problems, but that actually makes a lot of sense. Especially considering the lights have been flickering in almost every room I’ve gone in.”

“Sorry, but how does your unplugged and battery-run phone relate to power problems caused by generators?” Sam looked at them both like they were idiots and Danny realized he and Tucker had skipped ahead a couple steps and explanations. 

“Sorry, Sammy, jumped ahead there. It’s because if there are power problems then it’s not getting a full charge at night through the cord, or it’s been glitchy enough that it’s been messing with the battery itself, a lot of rapid oh look it’s changing followed by oops, now it’s not. Tapping it like I did could be enough to jostle the battery and cause connection problems or something like that?” Phones were more Tucker’s territory, but Danny liked to think he knew enough to not sound like a complete idiot.

“Oh. Well then if that’s the case then you don’t have to worry about it,” Sam said reasonably. “Just wait for your parents to fix it.” Yeah. Yeah, honestly. If the power shortages were driving Danny crazy then they were probably driving his parents nuts. “Back to more important matters… What are you wearing for the first day of school? Are you going as Danny or Dani?”

“The way you said those names sounds exactly the same,” Tucker grumbled, Danny hiding a laugh and that… was a really good question, wasn’t it? While he was slowly starting to get used to, well, he, there were still times he wasn’t sure if it was just a phase that he was exploring, in Sam’s words, or if it was a him — her? — thing. 

Like, okay, he had felt totally great when he had first seen himself in Sam’s mirror after wearing his new ‘guy outfit,’ but then he remembered a couple nurses asking for his pronouns at the hospital after he had really woken up. While his dad had looked confused, his mom had looked condescending and he was pretty sure he remembered the words Of course she’s a girl! What else would she be? 

It had made her feel pretty shitty for a while, and even now it hurt a little to think back on, but it wasn’t like she could up and explain it all. Especially when in a hospital and hooked up to a bunch of equipment. Jazz had made it feel better, using a lot of gender neutral terms to the point she wasn’t even sure she had meant to, but there was still that uncertainty. 

What would kids at school say? Yeah, okay, their cover story was that Dani was going through a ‘tomboy’ phase, but the fact she needed a cover story was just… It didn’t exactly feel great. It felt like she was playing a game she didn’t even know how to play, let alone win. 

“Hey, you know, my cousin does this online thing where she sells wigs.” Startling at Tucker’s sudden comment that had been spoken way too loudly, Dani (Danny?) looked up at the video call to see Sam looked just as startled since she had been in the middle of talking and planning for, in her eyes, what was going to be their first battle of the year. “Some of them are made from donated hair, which, yeah, creepy, but it makes them look really natural.”

“And you’re interrupting my battle strategy to talk about wigs, why, exactly?” While Sam crossed her arms and looked ready to have Tucker drawn and quartered, Tucker only looked at his camera so it made it seem like he was staring right at Dani. 

“Just thought, you know, if Danny is having a guy day and wants some shorter hair or something, I can get a wig or two off of my cousin that’ll look like your natural hair. And a couple long ones, too, in case you want to cut it, but want to go back to long when you switch.” Oh. Oh. “Can also get some colored ones if you want to give Jazz a heart attack and go through some temporary teenage rebellion.”

Silent and way too emotional for a moment, Danny (much better) finally nodded and managed a perfectly normal sounding, “You’re such a dork, Tuck.” If Danny really was close to crying, his friends at least did the mercy of not pointing it out and god he had gotten lucky when it came to his friends, if nothing else. 

Right. He just had to remember what Sam had said. It wasn’t about one or the other, it was about being who he was in that moment. That was something he could do, just focus on the moment and not what came after. 

Finally settled he only paused when, for a second, he felt something brush against his skin, a sensation that had no feeling and Danny. Danny with a y Ph- 

“-stick with the NASA theme.” Sam’s sigh was loud enough to break through his thoughts. “At least it’s familiar ground.” Right. Battle strategy. First day back at school outfit. 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with NASA clothing,” Danny defended immediately, brushing away the thought that had fluttered through his mind. “And I’ll have you know that galaxy themed clothes are fashionable-”

“No, they’re not.” The fact that came from both of his friends hurt. It hurt deeply. Danny would have to remember to pay them back in kind as soon as he could. In that moment, though, it was a good distraction from having to think about everything else. 

Moments with her friends, though, didn’t last forever. Especially not at night when she was back to being Dani and everything was still and quiet and the loudest thing in the world was her too quick breaths. 

It wasn’t like- She knew she wasn’t fine. She could say it to her friends and family all she wanted, but… But how could anyone just be fine after something like that? Movies and books made it seem a lot easier, but… She wasn’t fine.

She knew that when she had gotten a jolt from a pile of freshly cleaned clothes and had almost collapsed from how fast her heart had started beating. 

It was in how she had smelled something like bleach or antiseptic and had immediately collapsed over the nearest sink to gag, visions of yelling doctors and pain seared against her.

She wasn’t fine because instead of sleeping she was staring at the dark, cool colors of her room, eyes hardly closing for even half of a moment. She had seen enough of white walls. 

She had only been in that hospital for two or three days at most, but it had felt like so much longer. It hadn’t helped when every time she had managed to fall asleep for just a few minutes her dreams (nightmares) were terrifying and had made no sense. She was pretty sure she had jumped at the color green way too many times after seeing it so much in her dreams. 

Then there was the fact that she had barely even seen her parents since she had gotten home — she had barely seen them while she was in the hospital. Her mom and dad hadn’t arrived home from their science whatever until the day after Dani had been admitted into the hospital. They hadn’t been there long, either, because they had to rush home and deal with whatever had happened to the Portal after hearing why she was in the hospital to begin with. 

It had definitely been lonely. Sam and Tucker hadn’t been allowed to stay with her because they weren’t blood related. Jazz was the only one who had been there the entire time and had seen what had happened from beginning to end, and, well, Dani couldn’t blame her for all the hovering and worrying that she had been doing since then. 

For hours it had been Jazz, who had practically raised her with how busy their parents were, who had watched her on the verge of death. Dani could only remember what was probably a quarter of what had actually happened and even that was enough to know just how bad it had been. The doctors had been talking about how she might have needed a new heart because of the possibility of how badly the electricity had damaged hers. She was pretty sure most of the doctors and nurses had been surprised she had actually pulled through and been alright. One of them had even gasped when she had actually managed to stand up and walk around the room.

She could say she was fine all she wanted, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t heard the recovery instructions and the debriefing the doctors had given Jazz and later her parents. Her heart was damaged and weak, so there would no doubt be problems when she was older. She might have trouble breathing and being active if her lungs stayed as badly damaged as they had been. There could be memory loss, amnesia, confusion, hearing loss, and so much could have gone so wrong. 

Yet there Dani was, sitting in the kitchen in her nightgown after getting too restless and claiming she was fine and thinking about the invention that had almost taken her life. 

It couldn’t have been any earlier than at least two or three in the morning, probably closer to past three, and considering Dani had school in a couple of hours she should definitely be at least trying to sleep instead of sitting at the kitchen table and staring at the thick metal door that separated her from her parents’ lab. 

Ever since her Accident the two of them had kept the door down into the lab locked and sealed tightly, not even a crack of light escaping from any part of it. 

Considering how busy the last few weeks had been Dani couldn’t be sure, even that late at night, whether her parents were upstairs asleep or down working in the lab. If it was the latter she wouldn’t have exactly been surprised. What she had thought would be nothing but useless scrap metal had turned into something very active. 

Dani wasn’t sure of all of the details, but she had understood enough of her parents’ excited ramblings as they drove her home from the hospital and got her settled into bed. The Portal — the Ectoplasmic Monitoring Device — was no longer just a working theory. Instead it actually worked. 

There had been a lot of big words and a lot of emphasis placed on the importance of it finally working, but Dani and Jazz had read between the lines as easily as they had always done. The Fentons had work to get done and Fentons never stopped until the job was finished. 

Her parents had been studying the ‘scientific breakthrough’ since the second they realized it was working. They hadn’t released it to the public yet, but Dani was sure it was only a matter of time. After all, it was… definitely something. It was definitely something and Dani couldn’t even see what it looked like. 

Looking at the stove, and seeing that she was right and that it read half past three in the morning, Dani carefully got to her feet, shivering at cold tile against bare feet before she was walking over to the lab door, tucking her hair back and placing an ear up against it. 

She didn’t hear her parents in any way and, while the door muffled sound from the laboratory, it wasn’t soundproof. It was a safe bet to say that her parents were upstairs finally getting some rest, but… For once, Dani had to agree with her parents over Jazz. 

While Jazz always complained about how their parents tended to ignore everything else outside of their current project, in this one case Dani couldn’t even begin to blame them. If the Portal was actually working like it was intended then… there was a whole new world down there that they could see. 

Oh, Dani had no illusions about there being life or ‘ghosts’ in whatever realm or reality or whatever that they had busted their way through to, but it was still something so new. This wasn’t a faraway planet out past the distant reaches of their own galaxy. This was a world. Even if it was empty, it was a world that was right down there.

Dani didn’t even realize how closely she was pressed against the door until she was shivering from the cold metal that leeched the heat out of her and her simple nightgown. Taking a few steps away, Dani took a bracing breath as she just… stared. 

It probably looked amazing down there. Even if it was just a mirror image of whatever they were seeing, it probably looked incredible. 

“The door’s locked,” Dani said firmly, almost jumping at the sound of her own voice after the silence of the kitchen. It was just the reminder she needed to take a few steps back. “The door’s locked because that’s a lab down there with radiation where I almost died.”

Except, well, she hadn’t died. Oh, it had been terrifying as all hell and she certainly felt like she had gone through death, but she was still there, alive and breathing. She was still there, just standing still, just like that world that was just out of reach-

“Nope!” Snapping her mouth shut as the word came out louder than she wanted, Dani risked a glance at the stairs and sighed in relief when it didn’t sound like anyone had heard her. She then immediately cursed at herself along with a halfhearted, “Idiot.” 

What was she thinking, honestly. She had wanted to go down and look at the thing that had almost killed her? Yeah, no, if she hadn’t had a panic attack before then, that would definitely do it. Nope. Nope, nope, nope, she was going straight up to bed. 

She would shake off the phantom screams that she absolutely did not hear and that absolutely did not sound like her and march right up the stairs because it hadn’t mattered what had happened down in that lab and what did matter was that it was late and she should be sleeping.

Forcing herself up the stairs, Dani didn’t stop moving until she was collapsing into her bed and staring up at peeling glow-in-the-dark stars that were judging her. She was tempted to throw something at the ceiling if it wouldn’t just come right back down and hit her. 

“I’m fine.” Whatever was down there and whatever had happened didn’t matter. As it was now she was alive, and breathing, and physically exhausted even as her mind was absolutely wired for her first day back at school- Her first day. Actually. It might have been time for Danny’s first day of school.

—

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[killershrike]

Hey guys! So I unfortunately suffered a house fire this morning as well as pretty traumatic emotional fall out, and am still very anxious as things are not completely settled and I just don't feel secure and worry about not having a home, not trying to be all Woe Is Me, I'm just giving everyone an update for Dark Suspension <3 i'm still going to keep writing today at some point. But I did burn my leg and blister my fingers, it's not terrible but now that the adrenaline is wearing off I'm starting to really feel them hahaha. I'm gonna bandage up my fingers and hopefully try to write! I'm really still shooting for a Monday upload, I'm so so so sorry if I miss it. I would say the chapter is maybe 60% done, all it needs are more description added plus more editing and then it'll be good to post! So either way it shouldn't be too long, thank you guys for understanding and I really hope you don't mind the wait!

Burnt pictures of my roommate's couch LMAO. I lost a bunch of really dear stuff to my heart, but of course, the only thing that got damaged of my roommate's was his couch. Ain't that a bitch?

One of my favorite blankets ever, like 50 bucks literally up in smoke you can't make this shit up that's so fucking funny and fucked up I'm laughing so I don't keep crying

[lampmanliveblogs]

It’s time for more Owl House! At the time of writing this, I don’t know when this is going to be uploaded, so I’ll tell Future Lampman to make a note below.

Now, where were we? Ah, right, Luz ain’t doing so well. The loss suffered at the Day of Unity weighs heavily on her and she blames herself for them. Camila assures her that no one hates her, although I’m not sure Luz is entirely convinced of that yet. But we can work on that later. For now, this was a sweet, wholesome scene. A bit of hope in the dark. You love to see it.

(Future Lampman here: This took WAY too long.)

Ah, now this? You hate to see it.

So, like… they’re totally going to notice the three or so complete skeletons lying right next to the house, right? Right?

This? You love to see it.

I could make fun of Hunter’s outfit, but I won’t. Partially because it’d be kinda mean and I may or may not have been tipped off that Hunter does not have much fun in this episode as is. But secondly, it’d be kinda rich for me to criticize someone else’s choice in fashion considering that as I’m writing this, I’m wearing a shopping cart-themed pajamas, with matching socks and underwear.

As the camera pans from Hunter’s feet and up, we can see Flapjack looking proud of Hunter, it’s so funny and adorable. Like, yeah! My witch/human/clone boy did this!

And, I mean, it is Halloween. He could just go out in public like this and at worst, some people will bug him about telling them how he got his elf ears to look that realistic.

In fact, this could be an opportunity for all the witch kids to let out their ears for a change. With some cartoon logic, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that dangerous. Unless they run across someone who’s very paranoid and convinced witches are trying to steal his teeth.

Someone pointed out that  I missed Gus implying he knew Hunter’s a grimwalker earlier. Since he accidentally hit ctrl+c on Philip’s traumatic memories, including the whole grimwalker affair.

Here’s the thing: …yeah, I just missed it. Never said I was perfect.

Not that it really matters, because here we have this scene that was far less subtle. Gus pretty much said it out loud.

Now, Hunter’s origin being brought up repeatedly in this episode so far makes me think this might become an important point of conflict throughout this episode (possibly going into the next two) with him not wanting to tell the others.

Who’d have thought, at the very beginning of the series when we first met her, that Willow would ever be this smooth? Half-a-witch Willow they called her, pah! Tripping Hazard Willow is what they should have called her, the way she got Hunter falling for her.

Although, ah… they’re leaving Hunter alone. And Philip’s been skulking around the woods… I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

And here we go. Incoming disaster in three, two, one…