#to find a way to let them follow their dreams without ever separating

[theguardianace]

can we talk about emurui and how they think they’re selfish for having dreams

[tokiwarcube]

Dating Charles hc? 👀 Sfw & nsfw both fine by me 🖤

Hell yeah! Pre-Requiem SFW below the cut, NS/FW to follow in a separate post <3

Nathan HERE ; Pickles HERE ; Toki HERE ; Skwisgaar HERE ; Murderface HERE

Despite the “robot” label he’s been saddled with over the years, Charles is a very caring man. He’s romantic in a way that makes all of your rose-tinted teenage dreams a daily reality. And sure, he might not always have time for extravagant dates, but he’s tender in a way that smooths it over so naturally that you really couldn’t imagine spending time with him any other way.

Many of your nights are spent together in his office, sipping scotch to the quiet hum of classic rock as the two of you clean up whatever mess the boys have made this time. Quiet conversation weaves its way naturally into the scratching of pen on paper, easy and fluid as all things seem to be with him.

And while he is, functionally, always on call… Charles very much treasures the hours of the weekend he gets to spend with you.

Whether he’s taking you out to dinner or studying the pieces at your local art museum, Charles will usually be on his feet with you for the weekends unless you reel him in. Believe me, there’s nothing he loves more than relaxing at home with you with the lights turned low… but frankly, the man forgets that he can actually do that sometimes. Workaholic habits die hard.

And despite being around it all the time, Charles still loves live music. Take this man out to a show or two, you won’t regret it.

Just… don’t take him on the dance floor. Ever. He talks big game, but he has zero sense of rhythm. The ‘57 Gibson Les Paul hanging on his wall is purely for decoration, he cannot play it by pure virtue of the fact that he couldn’t catch a beat if it smacked him in the face. Don’t let him fool you.

Charles isn’t a very cuddly man, but that isn’t to say he’s not sweet. He loves placing little kisses to the inside of your wrist when alone, in particular.

Although if you have the urge to card your hands through his hair after hours while he works on a few deals, or loosen the tension in his shoulders… he certainly isn’t complaining.

When he’s drunk though… very, very clingy.

Even while sober though, he does have a bit of a fascination with your hands, just in general. You’ll often catch him watching your movements while you type, or fiddle with a pen. And it’s no surprise that, left unguarded, he’s prone to toying with your fingers a bit. It’s almost subconscious, really.

Charles has a fantastic memory, and he uses this to his advantage often. He’s always got you in the back of his mind, and he’s rather liberal about texting you when something reminds him of you.

[1 Attachment] Isn’t this from that show that you like?

That being said, gift giving is one of his bigger love languages, and he always seems to find the perfect thing. He has some preternatural gift for finding things that nobody else can.

He’s a fan of the classics, in many regards. Holding doors, pulling out chairs, flowers… he does it without thinking, really. Although, he won’t complain if you do the same for him. Makes him quite soft.

Least jealous man this side of the hemisphere. He completely trusts your loyalty and ability to assert yourself, no questions asked. And if there’s someone that’s not taking no for an answer? That is harassment, and they’ll be dealt with shortly. Props of always having a Klokateer around the corner, I suppose. (He’s a very vigilant man in general, actually. You always feel safe when you’re out in public with him, and its not just because of the armed guards that linger in your shadows.)

He keeps a photo of you in his wallet — a little polaroid that Toki had taken after you gifted him a polaroid for Christmas one year, tucked just behind his ID.

He keeps you as his lockscreen, too. Whenever he gets a smidge too stressed in the office, he’ll pull out his phone in a “do it for them” type move. It always works.

He takes your words very seriously — you always feel heard when you talk to him. He’s a fantastic communicator, and most problems are resolved fairly quick.

He loves hearing your voice, and if you’re in a position where you can do such a thing, he loves to just call for a little while. Just to hear you speak.

For as much as he preaches about getting 8 hours of sleep per night, he’s rather shit at following that rule. He might acquiesce if you ask him sweetly enough to please come to bed… although you might have a bit more luck if you plop yourself in his lap, instead. He gets so vigilant about not waking you up on accident that he eventually just gives up and carries you to bed with him.

And despite not being the cuddliest man during the day, he almost always has a hand on you in the night.

He’s an early riser by habit — a morning person by necessity, not by nature, as he says — but don’t think you’re getting out of bed before him. A bleary eyed and whiny Charles is a sight for sore eyes, truly.

He does have a certain set of routines that he follows to a tee, one of which is bringing you coffee in the morning. He likes to sit on the edge of the bed, sipping from his own mug as he gently runs his free hand up and down your spine. For a moment, the world is quiet — peaceful.

[twig-tea]

Cherry Magic Thailand Exceeded My Wildest Dreams

This series really surpassed all expectations I had for it. I've already yelled a few weeks ago about how this series righted years-long wrongs both with TayNew and with the Japanese adaptation, and encouraged everyone to watch this show. I'm so happy that the finale didn't let me down, ending its run as a near-perfect series!

The series as a whole did so many things right and only really stumbled slightly on one of the mid-series filler episodes that didn't affect the arc of the main characters or the story overall, so it was forgivable. Everything else in this series is a joy.

Cherry Magic Thailand has perfect character arcs, with relationships that all champion communication all the way through. There's a reason why Kurosawa and Adachi experienced the penultimate episode breakup in the Japanese adaptation but Karan and Achi did not; Karan and Achi worked so hard for this relationship all the way through this series, and that makes them feel so solid that a breakup would not have felt believable or true to them.

I loved how quickly and fully Karan embraced Achi's magic, and used it to be as embarrassing as possible about his feelings. This worked so well in the Thai version; For a man who is not super worried about homophobia, and is not as worried about being seen as less than perfect (the way the Japanese version's Kurosawa was), but who instead is mostly certain that he's Too Much, finding out that his every thought has been heard by the man he loves and that he fell in love with Karan because of those thoughts must have been the hugest relief. Karan's energy after the confession scene is consistently: I can't believe I'm lucky enough to have this.

And that's why it's so critical that Achi already has a ring in his pocket in this finale when Karan proposes. There are of course the reasons why this works as an ending to Achi's arc; The story starts in a way that feels like Karan is leagues ahead of Achi; Achi struggles with feelings of inferiority at the beginning of the series, just like he did in the Japanese version.

I already wrote in a response to @lurkingshan's ep 11 post about how Achi's arc on this was so good, he managed to gain enough self-confidence to build a workplace friend group, move forward in his career, and proactively move forward his relationship. For Achi, proposing is a perfect end to his arc of coming into himself.

But Karan was already self-actualized. If anything, his fear in this relationship has been that Achi would never love him the way Karan loves Achi. Before they ever get together, Karan organizes his day at the office to Achi's schedule, making sure to reduce minor inconveniences and discomforts without ever expecting to be noticed, never mind reciprocated. Karan lies to Achi all the time about how far out of his way he went to do things for Achi (from buying drinks to braving Songkran crowds to bring him medicine). When they first start dating Karan over-plans their first date, and Achi has to remind him that small moments are also good. During the dreaded episode 8 confrontation with their boss, Karan takes the responsibility of their relationship on himself alone. When they were preparing for Achi to be leaving for a month, Achi straight out told Karan he was worried about Karan's ability to handle the separation. He hung out outside Achi's house secretly, and designed a new krathong for them to release at Loy Krathong, but was willing to let go of their Loy Krathong date at the first sign Achi might have to skip it.

This is the first time Achi really steps up in their relationship, but it's still following Karan's lead--he knew celebrating Loy Krathong was important to Karan, so he prepared a surprise for a different day so that they could still celebrate together. While Achi is on his work secondment, they both prioritize staying in touch, but Karan takes a surprise trip out to see Achi before the month is over. And they have sex, and so Achi can no longer hear Karan's thoughts.

This means Karan is able to keep secrets from him again, like a proposal. And so Karan buys a ring, retaining what he thinks is his position as the one who does the work to move their relationship forward. But Achi surprises him by asking him to meet his parents as soon as he comes back from his secondment. And then he overhears Achi tell Karan's mother that he is making sure Karan isn't the only one putting effort into their relationship.

And then Karan is so overwhelmed with happiness that he can't hold back and asks Achi to marry him, and because he's Karan he has the ring already and is carrying it with him. And Achi tells him yes.

And this is the critical bit: Achi then tells Karan that he was also planning to propose to Karan, and proves it by pulling out his own ring. This is physical evidence that Karan is not alone with the intensity of his feelings; that Achi is doing what he told Karan's mother he would, and is putting effort into their relationship himself outside of steer from Karan; that Karan is allowed to love as hard as he does and he will be met halfway by a partner who is a partner in every sense of the word. When Karan says to Achi "I really love you, you know?" And Achi says "I do", it's not just about Achi knowing the depth of Karan's feelings intellectually, but about him knowing the depth of Karan's feelings by reciprocating them. It's about Karan knowing that Achi won't just coast on Karan's love, but will make sure Karan is being taken care of too.

[The part that breaks my heart about that is that Achi's kindness is the thing that attracted Karan to him in the first place; but Karan is so used to not being taken care of that he never expected Achi to turn his caretaking skills on Karan, even after they started dating. Quietly devastating, nbd]

Let's talk about happier parts of this last episode I noticed instead. The parallels in this last episode are so stacked on top of one another that I find it almost overwhelming; We have the two Karan/Achi bench scenes in CMT, from when they become a couple and when they get engaged; there's the proposals between Karan and Achi and between Jinta and Min, and how complete opposites they are (in the contrast between each individually having planned rings and having them on their person even for a mutually unplanned proposal, and how that contrasts to using a pen to draw on an engagement ring because neither of them had prepared at all); there's the use of pens as a proposal tool in Jinta and Min's story and in the Japanese adaptation's Kurosawa and Adachi's story; the perfect reverse parallel between the heat levels of the couples in the Japanese adaptation and the Thai adaptation--I love that Thailand flipped this rather than keeping them both moving faster, it makes the universe feel more balanced somehow--and (as @liyazaki illustrated in her post) that final fake-out parallel that ends the Thai and Japanese versions.

Love the decision to honour the Japanese adaptation while keeping to the manga on which it's based by giving Pai a story that has a clear aroace read while building the foundation for a start to a relationship with Rock that is believable and one I can root for.

I can't talk about Jinta, Min, Rock, and Pai without talking about how much I love these ride-or-die friends that Karan and Achi have acquired. The way Pai drops everything to get Achi to the airport; the way Rock kidnaps Karan without knowing why; the way Jinta and Achi talk to one another using their powers; the way Jinta looks at Achi and Karan when they have dinner together. All of these things warm my heart so much. The way Duj is the most intense busybody in the office but it comes from a place of caring.

And I cannot end a post about this show without talking about just how funny it is. Karan's internal scream, Jinta being able to hear the cat's internal voice, Pai's shipping constantly being misinterpreted by Achi and Rock, these jokes landed every time.

This post got out of hand, again. TL;DR I LOVED THIS SHOW. I loved the humour, the friendships, the relationships, the character arcs, and the scenery. I loved seeing Tay and New absolutely slay on my screen again, I loved seeing another adaptation of this stellar source material, and I loved watching something so well put together week to week. It's been such a good run of shows!

[martybaker]

Only Fools Rush In

So the setup for this is that Hob and Dream are professors in their forties at the same university, they’re friends who are very much pining for each other. They’re not oblivious, just taking things slow. Unfortunately, some meddling students and staff didn’t get the memo 😅

There will be more parts to this fic - as the word count kept running away from me I just decided to split it up and post the parts separately, however, I cannot promise when the next part will be completed.

——

Part 1

“Seriously? Where are your gloves? Hat? Scarf? Literally anything to keep you warm??”

Dream scoffs at getting scolded upon sight, taking the few more steps necessary to join Hob at the entrance to the outdoor ice skating rink.

“I’m warm enough,” he argues, earning a disbelieving look from Hob, who takes off his own gloves and grabs Dream’s hand, finding it cold, as expected. Dream snatches his hand away with a petulant pout.

Hob laughs at him. “You’re freezing! And you’re ridiculous! Having a fashion style to uphold is all fine and dandy, but dressed like this you’re just asking to catch a cold!”

“I thought I was here to try ice-skating, not to get a lecture on the way I dress,” Dream grumbles. “Besides, won’t I warm up by the activity? All this fuss is unnecessary.”

He makes for the door of the building where ice skates can be rented, with a ‘the sooner to get this over with, the better’ attitude.

Hob follows, raising an eyebrow at him: “Oh, Mr. Confident thinks he’ll be skating circles around me in no time? We’ll see how you’ll feel about the lack of gloves and padded clothing when you’ll end up on your arse, time and time again!”

Dream rolls his eyes. “I’m sure that was your exact intention when picking this activity, making a fool of me, all for your amusement.”

“Hey, I won the bet fair and square! Didn’t you have a blast when you won the last one, making me shave my stubble clean and draw a fake beard on? The students weren’t able to look at me in class without bursting into laughter!”

Dream cannot help but grin at the memory. “You were able to captivate them with the material nonetheless.”

“Yeah, but I had to work twice as hard to shift their attention away from the beard!”

—

They keep bickering as they rent a pair of skates each, finding a spot on the bench to change into them. Hob demonstrates how to properly tie the skates.

After Dream’s finished, he checks Dream’s work, grabbing onto the skates and testing the wiggle room.

“It needs to be tighter. Tied loosely and your ankles would move about, unsupported. You could get hurt.”

Dream nods, listening carefully. Hob is the expert here, or at least the one with lots of experience to draw from.

“Here, let me help you,” Hob slips from the bench down to his knees, Dream’s foot held in between them, and reties his laces, pulling them tight. Dream blinks rapidly, surprised by the action.

“There, that’s better,” Hob says, looking up and laughing at whatever expression it is that he finds on Dream’s face. “What? No one has ever tied your shoes for you before?”

Dream huffs. “Of course not,” he says, cheeks a little rosier than before, and lowers his gaze down, as if to inspect Hob’s work.

Luckily, Hob doesn’t tease more, he slowly stands up and then offers Dream an inviting hand. “Ready to rock and roll?”

Dream sighs. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” and takes Hob’s hand.

—

The ice rink isn’t too crowded, which is good. Firstly because they have room to move slowly on the ice, with Hob skating backwards and helping Dream learn the ropes without the danger of being run over by someone. And secondly, it means there are less witnesses to Dream’s mortifying struggles.

“Why, again, is this considered fun?” He grumbles, letting Hob pull him forward slowly, feeling extremely embarrassed as he can’t figure out how to move forward on his own without turning it into awkward stumbling rather than skating.

Hob laughs, squeezing Dream’s hands tighter.

“It is fun, it just takes some time to get into it. You’ve gotta lean forward a little, you’re too stiff and upright,” he advises.

Hob explains and demonstrates the right motions to him, over and over with great patience. Dream tries his best to follow the advice, and after a while, it does get better. Hob praises him and asks if he wants to try on his own for a bit, but Dream gives him an anxious look.

“Hmm, maybe you could try with the skating aid?” Hob suggests.

Dream grimaces. “Over my dead body,” he says, prompting Hob to burst into laughter again.

“Okay, got it. No skating aid for grown-up Dream. How about you skate near the boards and I'll be on your other side, so you could have something to grab on when you feel unstable?”

Dream nods.

Hob moves into position on his left side. Dream skates forward a few feet, wobbles and immediately grabs onto Hob’s arm with both hands, holding on for dear life.

Hob chuckles. “That’s alright, you’re doing great! Mistakes and falls are an inevitable part of the learning process!”

Dream glares at him. “Thanks for the tip, professor Gadling.”

Hob grins. “I’m no professor here, just an ice-skating teacher.”

“Whatever. Hold my hand,” Dream commands, and Hob happily obliges.

They do a few rounds like that, and it’s…actually not bad. Dream is getting used to the mechanics of the movement and he’s not that anxious with a steady support by his side.

He tries speeding up, and it works. He maybe even starts to feel a little bit of that excitement that attracts people to practice this activity regularly.

“You’re doing amazing!” Hob says, and Dream cannot help but preen.

He raises an eyebrow at Hob: “What were you saying earlier, about me landing on my arse again and again?”

Hob laughs. “Clearly, you have a good teacher!”

Dream snorts. “Clearly, I am a good student.”

“That you are,” Hob says with a smile, and pulls Dream to skate faster.

And faster.

And Dream stumbles on uneven ice, falling backwards and taking Hob with him.

They both land on their arses.

Hob, of course, reacts to this with laughter. Dream really doesn’t know where that man takes all that optimism from.

“Sorry, my bad, I went too fast!”

“Yes, you do that,” Dream mutters under his nose.

“Pardon?” Hob asks, brows furrowed as he picks himself up from the ice and holds out a hand for Dream.

Dream looks at the outstretched hand but doesn’t take it. “You’ll have to have patience with me, Hob. I don’t have the guts for barrelling into things headfirst anymore.”

“It’s generally recommended to avoid barrelling into anything while you’re ice skating,” Hob jokes. Dream gives him a look and this time Hob does catch on that Dream’s not talking about ice-skating anymore.

His gaze softens. “You can take all the time you need, Dream, I’m not in a rush.”

He plops down onto the ice next to Dream, back against the boards. “Wanna just chill here for a while?”

Dream gives him an unimpressed look. “We can’t sit here, we’re in people’s way.”

“Eh, they’ll make do for a minute.”

Dream shakes his head and pulls them both up to stand again. “I should get back on the horse, shouldn’t I?”

Hob grins. “I think that’s a different sport, love.”

Dream rolls his eyes. “It’s called an idiom, you twit.”

Dream dusts off his gloved hands and picks up the hat that he was wearing. Hob actually forced his own gloves and hat on him before they started and Dream has to admit to himself that he’s glad for them now. Of course, he’s not about to voice that and give Hob the satisfaction. The pompom on top of the hat is silly, but it does keep Dream’s ears warm, so he’s willing to commit this small fashion crime in the name of comfort.

To top it all off, Hob’s knitted Doctor Who scarf is now also in Dream’s possession. He has no objections to that one, though it does look better on Hob.

He would feel guilty for leaving Hob to freeze but the man’s actually wearing a big puffer jacket, zipped up to his chin. And his cheeks are endearingly rosy when he smiles at Dream, which is also, uhm, something.

“Shall we?” Hob asks, and Dream reaches for his hand again. This time, Hob doesn’t pull, but matches Dream’s own tempo.

[hsjazebel]

MEETING IN THE SHADOWS

Word count: 2582

A/n: This is the first part of a new series,I hope you like it!

Summary: Y/n, tired of her family and of spending her days in a golden cage, walking through the streets of the city is captured by the light of a sign.

main masterlist | ink hearts masterlist

Y/n observes the majestic family villa bitterly as it approaches, her heart clenching at the coldness emanating from every corner.

High stone walls surround the residence like a fortress, isolating it from the outside world and imprisoning its inhabitants in a world of privilege and convention.

The sumptuous rooms, decorated with antique furniture and expensive artwork, feel more like a museum than a place to live. However, behind the facade of opulence and wealth, lies a void that no amount of glitz can fill.

Y/n's relationship with her family is like a cracked crystal vase, fragile and destined to break.

Elegant dinners turn into shows of hypocrisy, where tight smiles hide the abyss of contempt that separates family members.

Y/n sits at the table, looking at her parents and hee elder brother, but she feels more distant from them than ever. Their superficial talk and snide remarks are like blades cutting through her soul.

Even among the crowd of servants carrying out their tasks with impeccable precision, she feels alone.

They are just puppets in the hands of her family, following every order without ever daring to look up or say a word out of place.

Although they are always present, their presence is only physical, devoid of human warmth or compassion.

Walking through the hallways adorned with trophies and expensive artwork, Y/n wonders if she'll ever find a sense of belonging in that place. Her rebellious emotions clash with the coldness of the polished marbles and opulent curtains.

This is not a refuge, but a gilded prison where she is trapped by her own desires for freedom and a family she cannot understand.

As she takes refuge in her room, the only oasis of tranquility in that abode of opulence, Y/n lets go of tears that she keeps relegated behind a mask of indifference.

It is here, within the walls that know her deepest secrets, that she finds brief relief from the constant tension that pervades the rest of the house.

She longs to escape from that world of facades and conventions, but every attempt is suffocated by the expectations and social conventions that imprison her. The idea of ​​breaking the silence and shouting her truth to her world seems like a distant dream, an impracticable desire.

Thus, Y/n remains a prisoner in that gilded cage, desperately searching for a glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounds her, hoping one day to find the strength to break free and find her way to a true and authentic life.

She grew up in an environment where appearances matter more than anything else.

Her father, a successful businessman, has always imposed strict rules and expectations on the family. Each member must follow a precise protocol of behavior and maintain a certain standard of social prestige.

The family must be flawless in the eyes of the outside world, no matter the cost.

Her elder brother, designated heir to the family empire, was educated from an early age to take over the reins of the company.

The weight of expectations on him is tangible, and the relationship between him and Y/n has become increasingly distant over the years. The rare conversations between them are always filled with tension and rivalry, fueled by the constant pressure to live up to their father's expectations.

Even her mother, although more reserved and discreet than her husband, contributes to keeping family standards intact. She has always played the role of devoted wife and loving mother, but behind her gentle smile lies a dissatisfied woman suffocated by social conventions.

The expectations weighing on Y/n are overwhelming. She must be impeccable in everything she does: impeccable in education, in conduct, in appearance.

She must attend the best schools, socialize with the right people and prepare for a future of success and prestige.

But inside, Y/n feels a constant sense of rebellion, a voice that whispers that there's more to life than her family wants her to believe.

The weight of these expectations is felt every day, squeezing her heart with an ever tighter grip.

Y/n wonders if she will ever be able to break free from this gilded cage, find the courage to follow her heart and live the life she truly wants.

Despite the constant pressure weighing on her, Y/n desperately searches for a sense of belonging within her family. She dreams of being accepted and loved for who she truly is, beyond expectations and appearances.

However, any attempt to get closer to her parents or brother is greeted with coldness and detachment.

The rare occasions when she attempts to express her wishes or opinions are promptly rejected or ignored. Her voice seems lost in the empty echo of the corridors of the villa, suffocated by the weight of family traditions and social conventions.

Even if she tries to maintain a facade of indifference, the desire for freedom and authenticity burns inside her.

The lack of understanding and support from her family has shaped Y/n's personality, making her secretive and elusive.

She has learned to hide her emotions behind her mask of indifference, seeking refuge in her room and in her deepest thoughts.

However, despite hee loneliness and her sense of strangeness, Y/n continues to hope for a different future.

She dreams of finding the strength to free herself from the chains of family expectations and follow her heart towards a true and authentic life.

It is this desire of hers that pushes her to resist, to look for a glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounds her, even when it seems that all is lost.

As time passes, Y/n realizes that true freedom cannot be found within the walls of the family mansion, but only beyond the confines of her known world.

She is determined to find the courage to face the future with confidence and determination, even if it means defying the expectations and conventions that have shaped her life thus far.

A haunting memory surfaces in Y/n's mind, like a shadow that follows her wherever she goes.

It was a cold winter morning, when the frost wrapped the villa like a cloak of sadness.

Y/n had just turned sixteen, an age that should have been celebrated with joy and happiness, but for her that day had become a nightmare.

Her family had thrown a lavish party to celebrate her birthday, but the joy of the event was quickly overshadowed by a heated argument between her father and mother. Their screams had pierced the freezing air, filling the room with tension and pent-up anger.

Y/n was hiding behind a heavy curtain, tears silently streaming down her cheeks as she listened to their arguments.

She felt like a prisoner trapped in a gilded cage, forced to suffer the conflict that poisoned her family.

When the fight was finally over, Y/n ran into her room and locked herself, seeking refuge in solitude and silence.

It was that day that she had sworn to herself to find the strength to free herself from the gilded cage of her family, to find her voice and her freedom, even if it meant facing the pain and uncertainty of the outside world.

That moment of family conflict remained imprinted in his memory like an open wound, a constant testimony to his desire for freedom and independence. And though time might heal her wounds, the memory of that day continued to burn within her, fueling the fire of her determination to find her way in the world.

——

Y/n feels trapped in the family's sumptuous villa, surrounded by a sense of emptiness and inadequacy.

The oppressive expectations of her parents and the tense atmosphere that permeates every corner of her home suffocate her, preventing her from expressing her true essence.

One evening, during one of the usual elegant dinners organized by the family, Y/n finds herself at the center of an acrimonious confrontation between her father and her older brother.

Her sharp words and raised tones fill the air, echoing in her mind like a constant rumble of desperation.

Feeling invisible and insignificant in the face of family turmoil, Y/n suddenly decides to flee.

Without thinking twice, she hurries out of the villa, eager to find a moment of peace and solitude away from the expectations and conflicts of her family.

As she walks along the streets illuminated by the dim light of the lanterns, the sound of her steps is lost in the din of the sleeping city. The night breeze gently caresses her face, bringing with it a sense of freedom and adventure that Y/n had never felt before.

Immersed in her thoughts, Y/n lets herself be guided through the city's winding streets, without a specific destination in mind.

It's only when she finds herself in a dark, deserted alley that the sound of a needle tapping against her skin draws her in like a magnetic pull.

Curious to find out where the sound is coming from, she Y/n ventures into the alley, following the sound to a tattoo studio hidden in the shadows.

The windows are darkened by heavy curtains, but the soft lights coming from inside reveal an intimate and welcoming atmosphere.

With her heart pounding in anticipation, Y/n pushes open the door and enters the study. That's where she sees him for the first time: the tattoo artist.

His figure is shrouded in shadow, illuminated only by the dim light of the candles dancing in the air. His skin is adorned with intricate designs and vibrant colors, and his eyes shine with an intensity that immediately catches Y/n's attention.

For a moment, their eyes meet in silence, creating an atmosphere full of tension and promise. It's as if time stops, and Y/n suddenly feels transported to a whole new world, where anything is possible and every dream can come true.

"Can I help you?" he asks abruptly, the tone of his voice slightly grumpy.

Y/n suddenly feels uncomfortable under her piercing gaze. "I'm sorry if I bothered you," she replies quickly, trying to avoid his intense gaze. “I just… saw the light on and thought I'd come by.”

The tattoo artist doesn't seem particularly interested in her explanation. "Okay," he mutters simply, returning to his work with a look of irritation.

Y/n hesitates for a moment, unsure of what to do.

She feels as if she has been caught in a private moment and she doesn't want to disturb it further.

However, her curiosity overcomes her discomfort and she slowly approaches the counter, looking with interest at the drawings and artwork adorning the studio's walls.

The tattoo artist, meanwhile, continues to work with determination and concentration, completely ignoring Y/n's presence. But when a customer enters the studio, the tattoo artist becomes visibly irritated by the distraction, shooting a withering look at the newcomer.

Y/n finds herself observing the scene with interest, intrigued by the tattoo artist's reaction. It's as if the tattoo artist's every movement, every expression is shrouded in an aura of mystery and charm, and Y/n feels like there's so much more behind her grumpy facade.

After the client leaves the studio, a brief moment of silence falls between Y/n and the tattoo artist. The air is tense, but Y/n tries hard to maintain her resolve.

Determined to find a way to get closer to the tattoo artist, Y/n breaks the silence. "Sorry for interrupting you earlier," she begins, trying to sound more confident than she feels. "I was fascinated by your works, they are incredible."

The tattoo artist looks up from her work and looks at Y/n with an inquiring look. "Thank you," he replies shortly, his voice slightly distant from her.

Despite the tattoo artist's coldness, Y/n doesn't give up easily. “How did you start getting tattoos?” she asks, hoping to gain some insight into her life and passions.

The tattoo artist only gives a light snort before answering. "It's been a long road," he admits vaguely, returning his focus to her work.

Despite the tense atmosphere, Y/n decides to persevere.

She feels attracted by the mystery that surrounds the tattoo artist, even if his coldness makes her uncomfortable.

"I imagine you've met a lot of interesting people along the way," she suggests, trying to dig deeper.

The tattoo artist barely raises an eyebrow at her, looking at her with a scrutinizing gaze. "Not many worth mentioning," he replies sharply, his tone clearly conveying his reluctance to share more.

Despite his grumpy reaction, Y/n doesn't give up. She tries to get more information out of her, but the tattoo artist seems intent on keeping her secret.

As the evening progresses, Y/n begins to feel frustrated. She would really like to understand what lies behind that mask of indifference, but the tattoo artist seems intent on keeping her at a distance.

Despite this, Y/n struggles to keep the conversation going, hoping that the tattoo artist can open up a little more.

However, every attempt seems to be coldly and disinterestedly rejected on her part.

Even with his dislike of her, Y/n finds it difficult to ignore the attraction she feels towards the tattoo artist.

There is something in him that fascinates her, something inexplicable and irresistible that pushes her to continue despite his resistance.

As the evening draws to a close, Y/n is tormented by a mixture of emotions.

She would like to understand the tattoo artist better, she would like to know his world and find out what lies behind her detached attitude.

But for now, all she can do is say goodbye to him.

Despite her efforts, she was unable to penetrate the armor he erected around himself.

As she walks out the door, she feels the weight of disappointment on her shoulders.

The cold of the night welcomes her outside the study, enveloping her in a grip of silence and solitude. She walks slowly down the sidewalk, the rustle of her footsteps echoing in the void of the night.

In the darkness, a shadow moves behind her, unnoticed. Something in her instinct makes her turn her head, but when she turns around, no one is there. Her heart beats faster in her chest as she quickens her pace.

As she walks away from the tattoo artist's studio, Y/n gets the strangest feeling that she's being watched, as if someone is following her in the dark. She tries to push back the feeling of unease rising in her throat, but she can't completely shake it off.

Then, when she is already far from the studio, a flash of light cuts through the darkness, causing a sign to shimmer right above her head. “Ink Hearts,” reads the sign, with glowing letters dancing in the darkness.

Y/n stops suddenly, surprised that she hadn't noticed the sign before.

“Ink Hearts,” she repeats softly, feeling something familiar yet shrouded in mystery.

What's behind that name, she wonders, and what does its meaning hide?

With a shiver down her spine, Y/n realizes that her adventure has just begun.

There is something magical and fascinating in this luminous sign, something that irremediably attracts her.

And as she walks away into the night, the promise of Ink Hearts shines like a star in the dark sky, guiding her to a future full of mystery and possibility.

Tag list: @ell0ra-br3kk3r

[lucy90712]

Could you write something with Pedri? 🥺 Pedri and the reader had a relationship in the past, but counts on Pedri's mistakes they ended up separating. One night they meet in a nightclub and Pedri is jealous of her with another. So he tries reconcillation

WC: 2.0k

Pedri's POV

Breakups are never fun and most of the time they hurt but usually after a while you move on and find someone new or at least normal people do. However nearly two years on and I still haven't got over y/n. The worst part about it all is that I broke up with her so my pain is all my own fault. The two of us began dating not long after I moved to Barcelona and for a few months things were great we did everything together and I was truly falling for her. At some point things changed and we started fighting a lot about stupid things really but the fights were so constant that after a while it was clear neither of us were happy so I ended things. We were both so young that staying in an unhappy relationship didn't seem worth it but now I wish we just worked through things and grew together. 

Right after the break up I missed her a lot as she was always by my side supporting me and although over the last two years this has faded sometimes I still wish she was by my side during the big moments. Going to the World Cup all I could think about was how I wished she was there to experience it all with me as we had talked about me one day hopefully making it to a World Cup while we were together. So many little things still hurt me more than I ever thought they would even all this time later. My biggest regret up to this point is definitely letting her go as she was my world and now without her I don't feel whole. 

Occasionally I still look at her Instagram as we still follow each other but with the amount of people I follow it's hard to see her pictures on my feed. Over the years she has had a few different boyfriends while I haven't been with anyone else since as no one could ever compare to her. Seeing her with other guys isn't what hurts the most though it's seeing her so happy without me that kills me every time I look at her Instagram. She always seems to be having fun with her friends and smiling, genuinely smiling too which is something I took for granted during our time together. It's torture watching her enjoy her life without me but I can't stop myself as I have to know how she is and what's she's doing even though she isn't mine anymore. 

My friends are always trying to set me up with other girls which has never worked out but they keep pushing and I already know that tonight will end up the same. Like always we will go out and they will find a girl who they think would be good for me and inevitably I won’t like her and we will go round in circles. Despite that I'm still going to go with them as we are supposed to be celebrating the end of the season and I don't want to miss out on that.

On the way to the club I picked up Gavi and as we arrived a few of the other guys arrived at the same time so we all walked in together and met with everyone else who was going. We all sat down and tried to talk for a while and I actually started to enjoy myself as I was just left alone and not forced to talk to anyone even though there was a lot of pretty girls in the club. At some point a few of the guys disappeared to go get drinks or go and talk with a group of girls but I stayed put and enjoyed my own evening celebrating with the guys that already have girlfriends. For once I was actually enjoying a night out as my mind wasn't always thinking about y/n and the stupid mistakes I made which led to me losing the girl of my dreams forever. 

My nice enjoyable night out didn't last much longer as it was ruined by Gavi coming back over laughing and getting me to look at some of the guys who were attempting to flirt with a group of girls. He clearly wasn't interested in any of them but Ansu, Balde, Ferran and Eric clearly were as even from a distance it was obvious they were trying to get these girls attention. I must admit it was funny to see them so desperate for these girl's attention even though on a normal day a few girls will willingly give them their numbers. It quickly turned to not being so funny anymore when I caught a glimpse of the girl Alejandro was flirting with. Straight away she looked familiar and then I saw that smile, a smile I could identify from a mile away. He was flirting with y/n and of course he didn't know that as I try not to bring her up too much as it hurts to talk about my mistakes but it hurts even more seeing someone else flirt with her right in front of my eyes especially one of my teammates. 

"Are you ok man?" Gavi asked 

"Umm yeah I'm good" I lied 

"Ok I know that's not true somethings bothering you just tell me what's up" he said 

"Ale's flirting with y/n" I stated simply 

"Who's that?" He asked 

"She's the girl I've mentioned that I dated when I was younger we broke up but I've regretted it ever since, she's the reason you guys can never get me to go on a date with another girl" I explained 

"Oh if I'd have known I would've stopped him flirting with her" he said 

"It's ok it was a few years ago I should really move on" I said 

"No if you still love her you should try and talk to her you never know she could still have feelings for you come on you are getting your girl back" he demanded 

Your POV

Usually on girls nights I will let loose a bit more and forget about everything going in in my life but tonight that's been harder than it usually is. For the last few days all I've seen is my ex boyfriends face plastered everywhere because his team just won la liga. For some this might be a bit annoying but they would get over it for me it's just painful. We didn't have the best end to our relationship as we just kind of gave up on each other after we went through a rough patch with fighting all the time and that's when Pedri ended things. To this day I still wish we had just been less stubborn and actually talked to each other so we could work through our issues but it's too late now. Seeing Pedri's face everywhere living his best life is what's been difficult this last week as my life has been tough. I just started a new and very stressful job and recently lost a family member and all I want to do is share my worries with Pedri like I always did when we were together. 

In an attempt to cheer myself up I've found myself letting this guy flirt with me and maybe flirting back a little. I mean I've had a few boyfriends since Pedri and I broke up but none of those relationships lasted very long as the guys either cheated on me or I got over them pretty quickly. This guy however seemed pretty nice he looked a little familiar but with the lighting in the club coupled with having drunk a bit I couldn't work out where I knew him from. As he was nice enough I didn't worry about where I knew him from as let's be honest after tonight I'm not going to see him again so why not have a bit of fun. The guy quickly told me his name was Alejandro and asked if he could buy me a drink which I couldn't say no to so we went to the bar together to get some drinks and kept chatting. I must say Alejandro was very charming but I'm not stupid I know what he really wants but for tonight I'm willing to play along as it's a bit of fun and I need more of that in my life. 

I was enjoying myself as Alejandro put a hand on my waist and pulled me a bit closer until it gave me a view over his shoulder. Straight away I locked eyes with Pedri who was coming towards me from across the room and I just panicked. I pulled away from Alejandro instantly and tried to get away not wanting to face reality but a hand grabbed mine to stop me getting too far. I didn't even need to look to know that it was Pedri's hand in mine as our hands fit together so perfectly just like they used to when we were together. As he pulled me back towards him I could smell his cologne which brought me right back to the date nights we used to have together when we would get dressed up even if it was just to go to McDonald's as we didn't have a care in the world. He continued to pull me away from the crowd as we headed towards the door and out the back of the club where there was no one else was around. 

"As much as it's nice to see you again I have to know why do we have to talk out here?" I questioned lightheartedly 

"Because I want to have a proper conversation" he said 

"So um how have you been?" He asked 

"I won't lie I could be better life's tough at the moment but I'm getting through it what about you you must be thrilled to have won the league" I said 

"Yeah it was cool but I'm going to be completely honest I kind of wish you were there to celebrate it with me" he admitted 

For a few seconds I couldn't believe what he just said. He missed me too. This whole time if we'd have just talked to each other the endless pain could've been prevented. My head was spinning with so many thoughts but I knew I needed to say something before Pedri got worried. 

"Do you miss me" was all I managed to say 

"Yeah I do I miss you constantly I always wish that we never broke up you were the one for me and I ruined it" he said 

"I miss you too nothing has been the same without you" I admitted 

"I don't want to take things too quickly and ruin them again but would you like to give things another go this time we will communicate better and work through any problems I just can't go on in life without you" Pedri said 

"I'd love to try this again with a clean slate" I said 

Both of us were beaming as we walked back into the club hand in hand. We both said goodbye to our friends before heading out of the club so that Pedri could drive me home. Neither of us needed to be out any more as we already got more than we could have ever wished for when leaving the house this evening. When we arrived back at my place together instinctively our lips found each other and we shared our first kiss in nearly two years but it was just as magical as our first if not even better as we are no longer awkward teenagers. As we want to take things slowly and do them right this time we didn't go any further but as he left Pedri promised me a second first date which only made me more excited for what's to come from our reunion. 

[jackles010378]

Never been kissed:

It had been a easy hunt, which was extremely rare. You Sam, Dean and Cas got back to the motel and you all decided you'd find a local bar and let loose for a few hours. You weren't that bothered about going out but you knew they wouldn't leave you alone, if you didn't go they would only leave Cas with you and well he's not very good at keeping up a conversation for long.

You had a separate room from the boys just for your own privacy. So you took a shower. You couldn't decide how to wear your hair so you just left fall loose on your shoulders. There was a natural curl to your hair so you thought it would look ok.

The boys had gotten ready, well Cas is Cas he never changes out of that trench coat. You can't remember the last time you saw him without it. You heard a knock on your door and told them you'd be there in a minute. You could have sworn you heard the eldest Winchester moan slightly. Ah, Dean Winchester. The man that has stalked your dreams for last 2 years.

Anyway, you grab your purse and head out to the guys "finally y/n, was thinking you weren't coming" Dean said as you notice him look you up and down. But you guessed you were imagining it, why would Dean even look at you like that. To say that you two didn't get on was an understatement. He was always off with you and barely ever spoke or looked at you. So you didn't pursue your feelings for him because you knew he didn't reciprocate them.

Dean drove you all to the nearest bar. You, Cas and Sam went and found a table whilst Dean said he'd get the drinks, yeah more like flirt with the barmaid you thought. Every time you would go out with Sam and Dean, Dean would always ditch the two of you for whatever hook up he landed that night. And every time you'd wished it was you going out that door with him.

Dean brought the drinks over and went straight back to the bar to finish his conversation with Brandie? or was it Mandy, you wasn't listening. You took a swig of your beer and that's when you looked up and saw him kissing her. You couldn't look away either. The way he kissed her had you mesmerized, you always wondered how those soft lips would feel on yours.

Cas had noticed you were staring at something so he followed your line of sight "ah, Dean seems to have caught another one" Sam swung round in his chair "yep, typical Dean". They both looked at you, you had tears in your eyes, "y/n you okay?" Cas asked you. Sam and Cas knew about your feelings for Dean and how it always hurt when you saw him with another women. You excused yourself saying you needed some air.

As you practically ran past the bar, Dean saw you and noticed you were upset "excuse me darlin, I'll be back in one second" he said to the barmaid he just had attached to his face.

Dean pushed the door open and looked around but he couldn't see you. He walked across the parking lot searching for where you went when he heard what sounded like crying. He followed the sounds of your sobs. When he rounded the side of Baby, he saw you sitting on the ground perched up against his car crying into your knees, face covered by your arms.

You didn't hear Dean sit down besides you, you didn't realise he was there at all until he put his arm around you and tried to pull you in for a hug. Your head shot up and you backed away slightly. "Dean, what are you doing out here?" You asked him, "well when I see my friend run out in tears I gotta see what's wrong don't I" you scoffed at that statement to which Dean quirked and eyebrow. "so Im your friend now huh" Dean looked at you confused, he always ignored you, you thought he tolerated you just for Sam and Cas's sake because they liked you. "Well yeah y/n, why would you think we're not friends" you couldn't look at him "you never talk to me, you always seem annoyed with me, if you want me to go I will, if I'm in your way just tell me and I ....................."

Your brain wasn't processing what was happening, but you felt the softest lips on yours. You slowly opened your eyes and saw that Dean was kissing you. The kiss was slow and sweet. Dean pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, you opened your eyes and were met with his hypnotic green orbs. "Wow, I never expected my first kiss to be with you of all people". Dean pulled his head back to look at you shocked "that was your first kiss y/n" you couldn't look at him. He pulled you both up off the ground, he placed a finger under your chin tilting your head up to look at him "I'm honoured to be your first kiss, and I don't want you to leave y/n, I have wanted to kiss you for a while, just didn't think you felt that way about me" again you scoffed at the statement laughing a little "are you kidding me, Im surprised you never noticed how I stare when you kiss other women, how jealous I get when you go home with them, wishing it was me. I have had the biggest crush on you since the moment I met you"

Dean cupped your face with both hands and lent in, "shall we try that kiss again or would you rather me go back to the barmaid" he said raising his eyebrow "I swear to god Dean Winchester you go back in that bar, there will be hell to pay" you propped yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him. The kiss was everything you imagined, not too rough, not too much tongue, the perfect amount of pressure.

You pulled back in need of air and looked at Dean with a smile "what do you say we finish this off back at the bunker, I'll shoot Sammy a quick text tell him and Cas to find their own way home" you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss "that sounds like a great idea". Dean pulled out his phone and sent Sam a message, he dropped his phone back into his pocket "y/n, I'm gonna be your first and last kiss, come on sweetheart let's go home". You got into Baby and scooted over closer to Dean who placed his arm around you. You've never been happier than you are right now. To say that you didn't want to go out tonight, you're sure glad you did now ❤️

@kaleldobrev @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @deans-daydream @janineb86 @alternativeprincess94

[butyou-callmewhenyourebored]

Matty Healy Imagine

Summary: In which you "dated" Matty pre 75 fame (2011-2012) and bump into him seven years later (late 2019) never realising you meant more to Matty than you could ever imagine.

Warnings: Swearing. Vulgar language somewhere around the middle because there is a tiny section of smut my friends!

Author's Note: Hope you enjoy this one. This was the 'Matty realising who his person is/in love with' piece that you all voted for next. Not entirely sure if it's any good to be honest but I hope you like it. A short blurb might be posted at a later date. Ross and George stuff coming up next! Enjoy! x

P.S If any of you can think of a 1975 song that we could use to title this bad boy I would be highly appreciative because currently I have nothing!

4.8K Words

When you met Matty Healy you were just shy of turning twenty one years old, you were still at uni and you were at a wedding of a friend of a friend that you only knew kind of through work and he was captivating from the off. He had a stunning set of curls and a cheeky charm about him, that had you knocking back whatever shots he was offering, laughing at all his stupid jokes (read chat up lines) and letting him feel you up as you danced until the early morning. You would have followed him into whatever trouble he got himself into without a single question asked.

He told you he was in a band with his mates from school to which you humoured him, nodding your head as you hummed in vague response. Of course he was, this was the noughties, every boy in your age range was or had been in a garage band doing covers of Blink 182 and hoping to make it big one day. What made Drive Like I Do or whatever weird name he told you any different from the rest of the kids?

Except they were different. They were fucking brilliant and when you found out they were from a small town in Cheshire not far from where you were from, you thought it might have been fate that you two would find each other.

You “dated” for roughly six months. You use the word loosely because looking back at that time in your life, it seemed like it was just a flurry of a lot of sex and a lot of fighting. Fighting about the states he would get in when he’d do drugs with his mates. Some of your most profound conversations were with him when he was high or you were both drunk out of your minds. But you probably fought more in those last two months than you did in the entirety of your next relationship. Which is a shame because you could have really loved him.

When the two of you finally admitted defeat and decided to go your separate ways. You didn’t hear from him or the boys again. Not that you ever expected to as he was busy becoming the front man in the biggest band in the world and you ended up moving to London for work and working up the ladder at your law firm and living with your boyfriend for the next seven years. You couldn’t escape him though, the band were the biggest thing to come out of the North since Arctic Monkeys and they were on every channel, every magazine, their music attached to every social media post.

Even though you weren’t on speaking terms with any of them because you had too much respect for Matty to make it weird. You knew George, Adam and Ross deserved the success they had achieved over the past seven years. Matty too, this was his dream and he was living it to the fullest.

You expected the success to find them. What you didn’t expect was to run into Adam and his girlfriend on your walk home from work one late October evening in 2019. He spotted you first, the two of you just standing in shock in front of one another for the first time in so long, in silence. His girlfriend highly confused as to what was happening until one of you finally spoke.

“Hi.” Adam immediately smiled sweetly at you before embracing you. “How are you doing Ads? Congratulations on everything! I knew you’d do it!”  You told him, your happiness genuine for him, he was one of the nicest people you had ever met.

“Thanks. Carls this is y/n an old friend of ours. Her and Matty dated what…” He paused a moment, whist trying to figure it out. “How long has it been since I’ve seen you? Seven years now?”

“Sounds about right!” You managed to chuckle. “I ehhh heard about what happened with him a couple of years ago. I wanted to reach out but didn’t know how or if it’d be weird or not?  Is he doing okay?”

“Better than ever.”  Adam smiled warmly at you at your concern.

“Will you pass on the message that I’m glad he’s well.”  You had started to ask but before either of you could say anything else. You heard the dulcet northern tones of a man that you shared your life with many moons ago, rupture through the evening air.

“Hann! What you doing mate? Who are you talking to…”

Words died on his tongue the moment he took in the sight of you in front of him for the first time since your last fight in the spring of 2012. Very rarely did Matty not know what to say. But there you were, his muse for some of his most beloved songs. As he lived and breathed, dressed in tight leather pants, a smart white blouse tucked in and stiletto heels that looked like they could kill him if he got in your way. Shock etched across your face but you looked more beautiful that Matty ever remembered.

“Hi” 

Your voice came out a little less confident than you anticipated and it made you want to shoot yourself in the foot but when Matty let out a breathy “Hi” like he was unsure of what to say it made you feel a little better. The pair of you continued to stare at one another, not completely sure how long neither of you weren’t saying anything but Adam coughed awkwardly and prompting you to look over in his direction.

“Well it was lovely to see you again.”  Adam leant down to press a deft kiss to your cheek before throwing a look over his shoulder at his best mate. “Hopefully it won’t be seven years next time.” He laughed, squeezing your arm gently as Carly sent you a soft smile and a wave as they both headed off in the opposite direction to you.

“You look good Healy.” 

You broke the silence, smiling at him sincerely as you took in how good he looked. He looked happy and healthy, had this glow about him and that’s all you ever wanted for him, was for him to be well. Matty grinned at your compliment before shaking his head, laughing as his curls fell in front of his eyes.

When he finally looked back up at you, you noticed the crinkle in the corner of his eyes were still prominent in his features when he laughed and this overwhelming feeling appeared heavy in your chest. A soft tingle rushed up your face, through your nose and prickling at your eyes. You didn’t want to cry but the softness of his face made the nostalgia wave over you so strongly that you didn’t know if you could keep composure for much longer if he didn’t say anything.

“Shit sweetheart! So do you! Sensational!”  

Matty’s words made you laugh, that feeling instantaneously washing away as you both laughed with each other for the first time again. Tentatively he took a step closer towards you. Opening his arms almost awkwardly gesturing for a hug as if he was unsure you would. You immediately stepping into his arms; his finding their way around your waist as yours naturally found theirs around his neck. 

His body felt warm against yours; hands pressed flat against your back, his curls tickling the side of his face as you curled up against his neck, squeezing him that little bit tighter as he attempted to step back and trapping him in your arms for a little longer. The smell of cigarette smoke and his signature aftershave the same after all this time, invaded your senses, making you relax into him. The pressure on your waist automatically tightened as he reciprocated your affection before you both finally took steps to move away from one another before it got awkward.

“It was really good to see you sweetheart.” Matty smiled; shoving his hands into his coat pockets. You noticed him shuffling his feet awkwardly, unsure of why he seemed nervous. It was just you. “But I’ve got to…”  He gestured in the direction Adam had left. “It’s a work thing. But I’ll message you.”

Nodding, you assumed after he pressed a messy kiss to your cheek and was jogging off after his band mate, that you probably wouldn’t hear from your rockstar again. But the notification from trumanblack not a hour later that just said ‘Call me x’ and his number had stupid butterflies swimming in your stomach that maybe if anything you’d be able to make things right with him, even if it just meant he was apart of your life.

That was eighteen months ago. It was now Spring of 2021 and I think it was fair to say you were fully submerged back into The 1975’s world. There were times when you could see the jealousy swimming through his brown eyes when you hung out with the other members of the band. Laughter echoing around whatever room you were in as your laugh intertwined with Ross’ infectious giggle.

Jealousy that this time around, your attention wasn’t solely focused on him. Which lets be honest a decade ago, the two of you were completely infatuated with one another. You were friendly with the boys but your entire world was Matty and Matty you. You can’t believe you missed out on this type of love that the boys were giving you. George was happy to have someone to entertain his horrendous dad jokes. Adam to have meaningful life talks with. Ross to go to when work was stressing you out, he always knew what to say to ease your mind. He had quickly become your best friend. All of them happy to have someone on their side to help wind Matty up!

You don’t even know what you and Matty were. Not long after you were reunited, the boys headed off on their American tour and you spent every night speaking to Matty over FaceTime once he got in from the gig. It was always middle of the night/early morning for you and after a certain amount of calls, you didn’t care what you looked like anymore.

Your conversations always ranged from what the tour was like, travelling, stupid things the boys had done whilst on the road to your work, missing him, him missing you, missing home and his mum and just wanting a good cup of tea. He of course was naughty as always and sometimes you found yourself wearing less and less just because you could and if he could tease so could you.

Yet once they returned home and they headed out on their UK tour, you found yourself working remotely and tagging along. This was everything you had dreamed of for him and it made your heart ache with so much joy you weren’t sure if it was pure happiness for them or you were slipping into the nostalgic feeling of being around him 24/7.

Then covid hit the world and you were forced apart again. You were currently living alone since your ex had moved out of your apartment six months prior but by some sort of miracle your neighbour one street over happened to be one Ross MacDonald. Him and his housemates so graciously offering you to move into their spare room for the next few months. Living with Ross felt like a better idea for your sanity than entertaining the idea of Matty if he had got in there before him, somehow you knew you had made the right decision.

Ross MacDonald was a fantastic housemate plus knowing it meant Ross had someone on his side when ganging up on Matty was worth it on its own. You lived for that shit! You and Ross also made a great team during your weekly zoom quizzes, having coming top of the leaderboard almost every time much to Matty’s dismay. Him proclaiming the two of you were clearly cheating on more than one occasion, which only made you laugh harder, the more he continued to rant. There is one thing you should know and that is Matthew Healy is a sore loser! This of course always goes down well with the rest of the band when he throws a strop like the man child that he is! 

Matty on the other hand wasn’t impressed by the speed in which your relationship with his bassist was forming. 

“You moved in quicker with Ross than you did me!”

“We never lived together Healy!”  You laughed at his pouting through the phone.

“Exactly!”

“To be fair mate. You were kind of a nightmare to live with back in the day!”  Ross’ voice could be heard from the other side of the living room.

“I don’t like that you two gang up on me!”

“Stop pouting at me!”  You laughed loudly at him, “To be fair to him, the rate in which we were going ten years ago. If we lived with each other. We would have killed each other and I’d hate to be the person to have deprived the world of your talent.”  You tried to soften the blow a little with a compliment.

“Yeah.” Matty sighed, before shooting you a soft smile. “Thanks sweetheart. Can’t wait to see you.”

The softness in his voice, made your heart burst and you hated how you knew how this was going to end up. “Me too babe. Me too.”

“Plus I need to make up for lost time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I need to accumulate the same amount of hours you’ve spent with Ross once we’re allowed out of the house.”

“You’re ridiculous. You know that right?”

“So I’ve been told! But you love me anyway!”

“Sure. Whatever makes you sleep better at night Healy!”

You laughed at the dramatic gasp of horror from the man on the opposite side of the phone. A roll of eyes definitely happened from both you and Ross who was drinking a cup of coffee on the other end of the couch.

That was a year ago. You were currently in the studio with him and George, just quietly watching them work. Adam and Ross long gone and happily tucked up in bed and you were currently falling asleep on the sofa and being held hostage by their lead singer. George threw you a sympathetic smile over his shoulder as you struggled to keep your eyes open, nudging his mate and gesturing towards your slumped frame.

Immediately standing up; Matty made his way over to you, kneeling down next to you and brushing your hair behind your ear so softly. That if you were actually awake, you would have leaned into his touch but you were completely wiped out. “Lets get you home sweetheart.” His voice soft as he pulled you up and he dragged you gently out of the studio and into his car, George’s goodbye muffled by your sleepy brain as he headed towards his own car further down the street.

Matty drove to his, your shit already there and tucked by the side of the bed in his spare room, despite the fact the past two days you had fallen asleep curled up next to him as you watched documentaries in bed together. You still don’t know what you were because friends don’t continue to sleep in the same bed with one another and not go any further than that. Scientifically impossible especially with the history the two of you had, a tension of the sexual kind always tethering the two of you together, no matter who was around, you always toed that line. 

That was all about to change.

When you woke up the next morning, Matty’s face in your neck, hands up the t-shirt you were wearing for bed, body wrapped around you as he spooned you from behind. The kiss he pressed to the back of your neck before moving away was enough to stir you from your sleep to search for him again in the sheets. Rolling over; you slotted into his side seamlessly, foot automatically intruding between his legs as your leg draped over the top of his waist.

“Don’t want to go to work. Tell the boys you’re not well. I’ll ring in sick.”  

You mumbled into his neck. His skin vibrated against your lips, his chuckles dying quickly in his throat as you pressed kisses to the upside of his jaw. Leaning down slowly he caught your lips between his own, neither of you bothered by whatever morning breath you may have, having seen each other in worse states than this. 

Matty’s hands moved from your face, dancing down your body as you tugged at his curls. Hands grabbing at the globes of your ass roughly as you kissed lazily in the morning light that was seeping through the curtains. Time was not a concept for either of you as you made out like a pair of love struck teenagers. You had gone nine years without him and now you didn’t want to let him go now you had leapt over that line.

A particular tug of his curls had him moaning into your mouth as he squeezed you against him, your ass firmly between his hands as you straddled him. “Babe gonna have to piss. Sorry.”  He mumbled against your lips, before wiggling out from beneath you. The both of you yawning as you both stretched properly for the first time that morning. “Maybe coffee too. Shit I’m tired as balls. Come on sweetheart.” He held out his hand for you take, finally leaving the confines of his bedroom.

Coffee brewed, breakfast eaten and teeth brushed. You and Matty happily trudged back to his bed after you called in sick to work and Matty text George some bullshit excuse as to why he wasn’t going to the studio today. The pair of you continuing to make out like horny teenagers until your lips were swollen and you were desperate to be under him and your wish was about to come true.

The hum of contentment left your mouth as Matty’s hands bunched up his shirt you had slept in the night before, soft kisses making their way down your stomach until he reached the top of your lacy knickers. Thank fuck for always thinking a head, you’d pat yourself on the back later for that one. Matty continued to press kisses to both of your hips before continuing his assault everywhere but where you wanted him to.

Looking down at him, Matty leant against the inside of your thigh, his eyes swimming with permission and when he looked like that between your legs, you’d happily give him anything he wanted. “Please.” You managed to whimper as his fingers tucked underneath the lace and dragging them down your legs quicker than you anticipated.

Matty held your legs apart as he looked up at you, hearts appearing in his eyes as he looked up at your heaving chest before delving in. Fingers wrapping around his curls, you couldn’t help but tighten your grip as his tongue swept through your folds to lick at your clit before sucking it into his mouth. Your back arching into his touch as he devoured you,  the pornographic moans you let out as he lapped up your mess enough to make him cum in his pants like a teenager.

“Fuck how have you got better at this?” You moaned; throwing your head back into the pillow as you groaned at his ministrations as he mouthed at your pussy. “Jesus fuck! That’s good!”

“Loads of practice.” He hummed against you, a soft kiss to your inner thigh before running his tongue over you again, before pressing his middle and index fingers into you too and pressing against that spot he loved so much.

“Don’t want to hear about other girls Healy.” You huffed, just as he sucked your clit into his mouth again, causing you to groan loudly. “Fuck going to cum.”

The grip you had on Matty’s hair was impossibly tight, the feeling of your nails indenting into the palm of your hand proof of that as your legs started to shake either side of his head. Matty doubled down on his efforts as you started to tingle all over, his fingers rapidly moving in you had the brunette holding your hips down as you started to gyrate against his mouth in a hurried effort to cum for him.

When you finally did, it felt like you were cumming forever. Your legs still shaking as Matty slowly made his way up towards your face, pressing kisses in the wake of his path before pressing a deep kiss to your lips. The taste of yourself now on your tongue making you hum as you pulled him closer.

“Could fucking stay between your legs forever baby.”

“I’d let you. That was fucking good Healy.”

“Hmmm.” Matty hummed into your neck, as he pressed delicate kisses to your skin as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Ringing in sick, best idea ever.”

After that; you too couldn’t keep your hands off you. You had opened the floodgates and you were never not having sex of some sorts. It was constant which was saying something because when you were both in your early twenties the two of you were at it like rabbits! 

Now that the two of you seemed to have established that you wanted to be with each other, life seemed to fall into place so easily. You went to work during the day, working with high end clients in the law firm you worked at and being a bad ass bitch by day and went home and fucked your sexy, talented ass man when you got home and hung out with the other boys in the studio at the weekend/days off. You couldn’t complain really and neither could they when apparently Matty was tuning out material so good, that George claimed that he was just playing him a song that was an old classic and not something new.

You had already become a constant within the boys’ lives at this point but it was when you were chilling in the studio, draped across the sofa and atop of both Ross and George as Matty faffed about at the sound board with one of their sound technicians that you realised you were all way too comfortable around each other.

The sound technician had been out of the room all of two seconds before he was sending you a suggestive look from the spinning chair he was currently occupying. His eyes drifted from you to his crotch and back again, raising an eyebrow to challenge you. But you weren’t playing these games today. You knew you were falling for him, 99% sure you already had and there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for the stupid fucker. But you wouldn’t play these games in front of the lads.

“No.” You tilted your head up from where it was leaning against George’s leg, to shoot your boyfriend a look.

“Why not?”

“Babe I’m not sucking your dick when the boys are here. Don’t be gross!” 

“Baaabe” He whined dramatically at you.

“Yeah. I object to that sort of behaviour.” Ross piped up from the other end of the sofa with a chuckle.

“I love you both but I don’t want to see your dick mate.” Adam looked up from his guitar in the corner.

“Agreed, we put up with a lot of shit but do I want to see your dick in our sweet innocent friend’s mouth. No.” George joked from above you. You pinched his thigh much to his annoyance, hitting you with his flailing arms in reflex to your assault.

“Your dick is practically in her mouth now. Shut up! Come on baby, let’s quickly sneak out.”

Your boyfriend’s unfiltered mouth, seemed to think he was funny. But his joke didn’t settle with any of you the way he thought it would. Especially you and George and it was the first time you made an effort to sit up and move away from the friendly giant you called your mate. As the awkwardness settled between the five of you, you quickly dropped your legs from Ross’ lap too and sat up. 

The atmosphere in the room had quickly shifted and you made an excuse to make a “work call” and left the room.

That was the first disagreement you had with Matty since you had gotten back together. You were up for a dick joke as much as the next lass but making you the butt of the joke like you were some type of slut was where you drew the line. 

Although to give Matty’s his dues, he let you talk it out with him after giving you the space you needed. He apologised immediately and promised he’d not slut you up in front of the boys again. Which if it had happened ten years ago, you would have screamed about him being “such a boy” and how he would have screamed about “how you just don’t get his humour and to get over yourself.”

“I’m sorry baby. I forget I don’t have a filter sometimes. Won’t happen again.”  He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, hands draped around your waist. “I’ve never been this happy. This is the happiest I’ve ever been and it’s all because of you sweetheart. Don’t want to mess this up.”

“I know baby.”  You kissed him back harder than before, twirling his curls around his fingers before pecking your lips against his over and over again, just wanting to be close to him. If you could see yourselves, you’d hate the two of you. “You won’t, I know you won't.” You whispered against the side if his neck, as you mouthed at his jaw and pulling a groan from him as you pressed just underneath his ear.

“I fucking love you sweetheart.”

You felt like your heart stopped as his words entered your ears, his forehead resting against yours as he pressed you up against the wall.

“Yeah?”  Matty nodded. “I fucking love you too Healy!”  You grinned.

Matty pressed you further into the wall, kissing you so deeply you thought you’d go through it. The moan you tried to suppress as you felt his thigh press between your own echoed through the corridor in the studio and it was only when you realised where you were, your mates just on other side of the wall. Had you pulling aways as sense invaded your brain.

“I love you but not here. When we’re home.”  You laughed at his pout.

“Only because I love you so much. Don’t think I ever really stopped to be honest.” 

Matty had the nerve to look demure as he said it but the giddiness as he bounced on the balls of his feet, you knew he was anything but as he looked like he was ready to burst. You rolled your eyes as you know what he wanted but you sent him a soft smile all the same. God you were down bad for the silly fucker!

“You can tell the boys! Go!” You shoved him playfully. Your laugh reverberated around the hall as he pressed a kiss to your mouth once more before running back towards the room you had both disappeared from. “She fucking loves me mate!”  You heard him shout as he burst through the studio door.

Not far behind him, you stopped to lean against the door frame as he bounced around the room. The boys patting him on the back with smiles equally as big as they voiced their congratulations. 

“We know!”  Ross cackled, rolling his eyes when he spotted you.

“Fuck knows why! You’re a pain the arse!” George smirked, pulling his best mate into a tight hug.

“I’m happy for you both.”  Adam spoke from his corner, a bright smile on his face as he nodded at you in the doorway. Adam had this all knowing look on his face, having been there the moment you reunited. You think he always knew deep down, this was where it was heading. You both loved hard and fast, he saw it first hand ten years ago and had seen how happy his best mate had been just by having you in his life again. He knew there was no way you weren’t going to realise that the two of you were meant to be.

Your boy turned to look at you. Leant against the doorframe, arms folded across your chest and the softest look on your face as you watched his energy bounce off everything he touched, it was so infectious that you couldn’t help but feel your eyes gloss over. The overwhelming feeling of love hitting you square in the chest as the four of them teased one another. Teased Matty for being soft. You caught each others eyes, Matty beaming as he took you in.

A chance meeting at a wedding ten years ago. A fleeting love affair. Nine years apart. 

A chance reunion between an international rockstar and the one who got away.

Yeah you were fucking so down for this man.

He was your person.

[spiriteddreams]

he wishes he could be selfish for once. ft gojo satoru! cw: angst, shibuya arc spoilers near the end

gojo satoru thinks that to love him is to lose. it is to give up your dreams and leave behind a glowing path to instead venture with him towards despair. he leaves pain in his wake, full of memories that cling to his shadow and whisper in his ear. they refuse to back down, refuse to be forgotten as they dig shadowed claws into his shoulders. but he so desperately wants to be selfish. he wants to indulge in sweet moments and forget about the world and pretend that loss isn't the only thing that he's really known.

he keeps himself at a distance. never too close, but never too far. that way, he can look over those that he cares about without ever putting them into too much danger or accidentally burdening them with the weight that has been placed on his shoulders since the day he was born. he willingly puts on his facade with each waking day and pretends that there is no need for anyone else to have to worry about anything. he reminds himself that he is gojo satoru, the holder of the six eyes, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the world, so, by default, he can and will be able to solve every problem that comes his way.

except that in the real world, things don't ever seem to work out this way. bad luck is an invisible curse, unable to been seen, heard, or even sensed. and it trails after him, lingering in his shadows and blanketing over him when he tries to sleep. satoru thinks that bad luck follows him around everywhere he goes, so the only next step to do to those he is close with, is to push them away.

push all those that he loves away from him so they are out of harm's way. funny how it doesn't work that way. because when you stumble into his life, quite literally, by running into him through the hallways of jujutsu tech when you're both first years, you knock him off his feet. it's one of the rare moments when satoru isn't keeping up his shielding and in the moments that he hits the floor and you're frantically apologizing and helping him up, he's in a daze. there's just something so bubbly and friendly about you that makes him want to pull you in close and never let go. you're too sweet for him, too warm and understanding that he thinks he could get addicted. and that scares him.

by the time you're both adults, with years of experience and trauma now haunting your memories, there is an undeniable distance that separates the two of you. it is made up of unsaid words and shared glances across the room, both too afraid, too unwilling to make the next move, to have the confrontation that could mean putting both of your lives in further danger.

because he is gojo satoru, the holder of the six eyes, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, a man who is so in love with you that it scares him because he knows that it would be selfish of him to put you in such a dangerous position. so he resigns to keeping himself at a distance, only indulging when the time allows. and when it does, he finds himself falling even harder, even faster. it makes him selfish and jealous, such ugly emotions that he pushes down the moment he notices them making an appearance.

so he throws himself into battle. and when sukuna chooses yuuji to be his vessel, satoru's world begins to fall apart. one after another, the world begins to crumble beneath his fingers and there's nothing he can do to stop the oncoming storm of misfortune.

on october 31 in shibuya, in a split second, gojo satoru thinks about where you are. he thinks you're fighting, and winning, against curses. he thinks you probably look beautiful with blood splattered across your clothes and a fire in your eyes that makes him so proud of you. he thinks you would scold him for the situation he has gotten himself in, shake your head and pretend that everything is okay as you promise to come back for him. he thinks you might cry for him, and he hates the thought. he's glad you're not here to watch him be sealed away because it would break his heart to see the expression on your face. and as darkness begins to envelop his vision, he thinks of you and the warmth you once gave him. he thinks of a crash in the middle of jujutsu tech and the warmth that flooded his skin. and in the darkness of being alone, he feels just a bit warmer.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 a/n: wow where did this angst come from i was just writing al-haitham fluff and then switched to this LMAO

[dindjarindiaries]

Stories I've Written Based On Songs

Music goes hand-in-hand with my writing, as I'm always listening to it when I'm writing, and it has influenced and inspired my writing on many occasions. For anyone else who has a similar relationship between music and storytelling, here are all the stories I've written so far that have either been titled after or directly inspired by songs, along with the songs (and lyrics) that influenced them.

main masterlist • personal recommendations

DIN DJARIN

breakable heaven* completed • fem!reader Your last summer spent on your home planet brings you a whirlwind romance with a Mandalorian-to-be, making your future uncertain as you fight between feelings and your fate.

♫ Cruel Summer - Taylor Swift ♫

It's cool, that's what I tell 'em No rules in breakable heaven

the “heat” of the moment • reader The heat goes out on the Razor Crest and you’re the only one with an electric blanket to keep yourself warm.

♫ The Heat of the Moment - Asia ♫

It was the heat of the moment Telling me what my heart meant The heat of the moment showed in your eyes

everything i wanted • reader You’re trapped inside a Din x Omera love triangle, struggling to get to your lover who’s entranced with your new host.

♫ everything i wanted - Billie Eilish ♫

I had a dream I got everything I wanted

don’t blame me• reader In the weeks following your marriage, you and Din are desperate to make up for all the physical affection you’ve missed out on—leading you to do whatever you can wherever you can.

♫ Don't Blame Me - Taylor Swift ♫

Don't blame me, love made me crazy If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right Lord, save me, my drug is my baby I'll be usin' for the rest of my life

said and done • reader With Din being injured from a past fight, you’re the one in charge of the hunts for now—and Din realizes he likes having you in control.

♫ God is a woman - Ariana Grande ♫

You, you love it how I move you You love it how I touch you My one, when all is said and done You'll believe God is a woman

next to you • reader It’s been long enough since Din’s promised return for you to assume that he didn’t make it, and now you yearn for the life that could’ve been.

♫ Lay Me Down - Sam Smith ♫

Yes, I do, I believe That one day I will be where I was Right there, right next to you

touch it softly • reader When you invite Din to play with your hair, you both get a little more than lost in the moment.

♫ my hair - Ariana Grande ♫

Said I'ma give you some instructions That you can't be scared to try I want you to touch it softly Like the way you do my mind

ni ceta par gar (i kneel for you)* • reader When Mando needs emotional release, you seek to fulfill your pining by offering something neither one of you can resist—something that could change everything.

♫ bad idea - Ariana Grande ♫

I got a bad idea (uh-huh) Yeah, I'ma call you over here to numb the pain (Ari-Chan) I got a bad idea (uh-huh) Forget about it, yeah, forget about him, yeah Forget about me

in my head • reader The thought of Din plagues your mind—and it won’t be long until it’s forced onto your lips.

♫ Streets - Doja Cat ♫

I can't sleep no more In my head, we belong And I can't be without you Why can't I find no one like you?

stay • omera Din wrestles with his feelings for Omera and tries to tell her how she feels—but has to let her in first.

♫ The Archer - Taylor Swift ♫

I've been the archer I've been the prey Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?

favorite crime • reader When your ex-partner-in-crime and past lover enters your life again, you find yourself looking back on fond memories with a tremendous desire to chase them again.

♫ favorite crime - Olivia Rodrigo ♫

All the things I did Just so I could call you mine The things you did Well, I hope I was your favorite crime

bring me home • reader You reunite with your Mandalorian lover after a long separation and realize much has changed since you last him.

♫ Sweet Creature - Harry Styles ♫

Sweet creature, sweet creature Wherever I go, you bring me home

safety net • deaf!reader When you and Din are reunited after a hunt that goes longer than expected, your mutual feelings for each other finally bubble to the surface—regardless of the fears you’ve both buried deep within.

♫ safety net - Ariana Grande ♫

Tripping, falling with no safety net Boy, it must be something that you said Is it real this time or is it in my head? Got me tripping, falling with no safety net

selfish • reader Din, who’s helplessly in love with you, is forced to watch you and your partner until he’s forced to come to terms with his feelings.

♫ Woman - Harry Styles ♫

I'm selfish, I know But I don't ever want to see you with him I'm selfish, I know I told you, but I know you never listen

as it was • din djarin’s parents The living waters beneath Mandalore bring Din back to a place—and a people—he never thought he’d see again.

♫ As It Was - Harry Styles ♫

In this world, it's just us You know it's not the same as it was

people watching• grogu Observation was a skill Din Djarin had mastered for his own safety, but now it sets the scene for his very own destruction.

♫ People Watching - Conan Gray ♫

But I wanna feel all that love and emotion Be that attached to the person I'm holding Someday, I'll be falling without caution But for now, I'm only people watching

astronomy • reader Crossing paths with a seriously injured Din forces the two of you to come to terms with your relationship.

♫ Astronomy - Conan Gray ♫

As much as it seems like you own my heart It's astronomy, we're two worlds apart

fine line • reader Din tries his best to comfort you in the aftermath of your torturous capture.

♫ Fine Line - Harry Styles ♫

We'll be a fine line We'll be alright

takes one to know one • reader Bounty hunters aren’t supposed to fall in love and you were okay with that. So was the Mandalorian.

♫ cowboy like me - Taylor Swift ♫

Now you hang from my lips Like the Gardens of Babylon With your boots beneath my bed Forever is the sweetest con I've had some tricks up my sleeve Takes one to know one You're a cowboy like me

doomsday • reader You and Din are interrogated by Moff Gideon, who has quickly realized you’re the best weapon he has to use against the Mandalorian.

♫ doomsday - Lizzy McAlpine ♫

Doomsday is close at hand I'll book the marching band To play as you speak

right where you left me • reader Din reunites with you many years after your whirlwind romance for a mission you begrudgingly accept to help him with.

♫ right where you left me - Taylor Swift ♫

They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared Right where you left me

you hear me when i cry • reader You try to take a new lover after Din doesn’t make it on Nevarro—but he haunts your dreams every night.

♫ ghostin - Ariana Grande ♫

I know you hear me when I cry I try to hold it in at night While you're sleepin' next to me But it's your arms that I need this time (This time)

HUNTER

borrowed time • reader You can’t stop staring at Hunter during a mission, and little do you know just how distracting it is for both him and you.

♫ False God - Taylor Swift ♫

We might just get away with it The altar is my hips Even if it's a false god We'd still worship this love

rush • reader You and Hunter have to make a risky escape when the end of a mission goes sideways, though even an exit gone wrong has a bright side.

♫ Rush - Troye Sivan ♫

I feel the rush Addicted to your touch

[manda-kat]

Precious baby Jenna! I think this is the most intentional character design I've ever made. So let me ramble a bit about her.

Jenna is Micah's twin and the two of them are both new dragon riders hailing from a proud family of dragon slayers. While Micah despises the idea of teaming up with a dragon, Jenna actually loves dragons and wants to disown the idea of dragon slaying entirely.

So for Jenna's design, I focused on the following:

Each character has their own signature element, related to the element of their dragon partner. Jenna's element is sky, so she has a lot of blue, she has long flowing hair, round edges, archery as a fighting style, ribbons, and- something I noticed while drawing and decided to emphasize a bit later- a flight-attendant-esque outfit. Like wind, sky, storms and rain, Jenna is a free spirit, but her preppy style implies that she's putting on appearances and not fully embracing that personality.

She is woefully underprepared for this new lifestyle. Jenna has no armor, is wearing a skirt, has little buckle-on shoes with no socks, her hair is down, her bows are in the way. Every utility-based item she has is in the same dark gray featured in Micah's belts.

This basically spells it out that Jenna didn't actually pack that stuff herself and Micah is the one adjusting her gear so she doesn't die. Since she'll be riding a dragon, she is now wearing thick, protective leggings that don't really match the rest of her outfit. She didn't want to bring her weapon at all, but Micah insisted. The bow is dark and has little to link it to her character. It represents the violence that Jenna despises, but like it or not, she must carry and learn to use for the protection of others. The quiver is just thrown around her waist with the only added detail being a bow she added after the fact just to keep it from being depressing.

There is a lot of room to grow. Jenna's final design at the end of her story would be more put-together, confident and prepared for action. Right now she's a teenaged girl trying to live her dream without really knowing the details of that lifestyle and I really think it shows! I hope I design more characters like her.

Bonus for her twin brother's design:

Micah's element is fire, but at this point he won't be flaunting that the way Jenna already is. His hair and cape give a bit of fire imagery, but that's mostly it. Fire is the most dragon-like element and he doesn't want anything to do with it. Red is still his color, connecting him more to that violence that Jenna is running from. For Micah, being able to fight and protect is the most important trait for a person to have and if he fails in that regard, he's nothing. The red is smothering him. It's something he carries for someone else rather than something he owns and wears proudly.

Just like Jenna, he is unprepared. While she forgot essential supplies and dressed for fashion rather than function, Micah remembered his armor and gear. However, the gear isn't suited to him specifically. Everything he is wearing is a hand-me-down from his father and grandfather. Key parts of the golden armor are missing, which implies he couldn't find a way to fit into the whole set and had to just settle for the pieces he could adjust. The sword is nearly as tall as he is and is way too big for him. Instead of finding a more reasonable weapon, he stubbornly sticks to the family relic, insisting that if it worked for the previous generations, it'll work for him.

Micah's round chin and freckles just make him look so young. He's way too much of a kid to realize the severity of being a dragon slayer.

I think Jenna's design has more thought behind it, but I love the twins together. Their eyes match, but their hair and skin helps keep them separate. Jenna is slightly darker, implying a tan. Like she actually goes outside and does things on her own, while Micah hides indoors and avoids actually living. Micah's blond hair matches his mother, but Jenna's hair has red in it, which neither of their parents have, which marks her as an outcast in the family. She's also taller and comes across as more mature than her brother, despite them being twins.

[aquilathefighter]

Fluffbruary 27: Market & Friend

Find all of my @fluffbruary ficlets on AO3 here!

Fandom: The Sandman (2022)

Relationship: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

“C’mon old friend, let’s not sit and drink today! There’s a street market not far from here.” Hob says one day a few weeks into their new arrangement. He jumps from his seat in the New Inn, snatching Dream’s wrist in his hand.

Dream follows as he is pulled out the door, eyes stuck to where Hob’s skin is touching him. Despite the chilly air around them, Hob’s hands are warm and comforting. He feels as though he’s sat in front of a hearth, safe at home in Hob’s touch. He’s not quite sure what to do with this feeling, new and tingly and making his inhuman chest tighten like nothing before it.

When he had fallen for someone before, it had been fiery and passionate and intense. And it had burned out fast, ruinous, and ashy in the pain left behind. But the way he feels with Hob is different. In his imprisonment, he’d reflected on their relationship, as tenuous as he had left things off on. Hob’s outlook on life was so different from his own. The man found joy in everything from playing cards to hosting the Queen herself, where Dream only found despair.

Perhaps spending more time with Hob would aid in his recovery, he’d thought. I don’t want to live like this anymore.

And so the pair had arranged to meet on a more frequent basis. Hob shared bits of his life as a professor and Dream revealed more of his function and upon Hob’s insistence, himself, separate from the function.

With Hob, things were easy. Dream felt more at ease in himself than ever before. And as they’d continued on, he knew he wanted to stay in Hob’s presence evermore. The way he felt around him was strange. It wasn’t the flaming love he’d had before but something softer. Gentler. It matched Hob’s demeanor in this era, a kind man teaching the leaders of tomorrow about the past. A man who fought for the rights of others, who made time to put his students at ease.

Which brings Dream back to the present, where somewhere in his gut he feels fluttering anxiety. Not the kind where he feels he is about to do something rash, but it makes him want to giggle. The Dream King does not giggle. He resists the urge, as much as the contact between him and Hob makes him want to.

Hob slows once they’ve made it through the throng of people milling around the edges of the market, releasing Dream’s wrist.

“Sorry about the touch, I just didn’t want to lose you in the crowd. But look!” he throws his arms out in excitement. “There are so many booths! All sorts of things people’ve made with their own hands, delicious treats, and so much art! Perhaps I’ll convince you to try something this time,” he grins.

Dream’s skin throbs at the loss of contact. He puts a hand out to grab Hob’s hand again, then thinks better of it. Instead, he gives Hob a tiny smile to signal his approval at their arrival.

“Perhaps,” he rumbles. He does not find much pleasure in eating in the Waking world, but if it makes Hob happy, he will consider it.

“Well, where to first?”

Dream surveys the scene, sifting through the daydreams of shoppers and vendors alike until he finds a series of shops selling warm, knit clothing. He starts to step in that direction, expecting Hob to follow, but then he stops himself. Without looking at his friend, he finds Hob’s hand hanging at his side and slips his own into it. Then, he starts walking at a brutal pace, hoping that Hob won’t make a comment while preoccupied with keeping up.

Despite Dream using his long legs to his advantage, he still hears Hob gasp at the contact. He trails behind, the length of their arms going taut as Hob’s brain catches up. Then Dream hears the scuffing of feet against the pavement quick, quick, quick and Hob is by his side, grinning.

“Find an appealing daydream, did we? Are you gonna tell me where we’re headed or will I just have to wait and see?” Hob squeezes Dream’s hand briefly.

Dream looks over at him, eyes glimmering.

“The latter, eh? Alright Dream Lord, lead the way.”

He tries not to shudder at the use of one of his titles, but the smirk on Hob’s face shows that he isn’t doing a good job of hiding it. They walk hand in hand until they arrive at the booth Dream had targeted.

There’s an array of knitted and crocheted items spread across the table, the rainbow of colors reflecting the multitude of types of items. There are scarves, hats, and mittens, of course, but Dream also notices tea cozies, hot pads, and… is that a set of lingerie? Dream tucks that thought away for later.

Two women are seated at the stall, one busy with a ball of yarn in her lap and a crochet hook. The other is sipping from her thermos, trying to beat the chilly breeze that passes through the street.

“Hello, gentlemen. We’ve got knit items over here,” she gestures to the left side of the table, “and crocheted items over here,” she gestures to the opposite side. “Do you boys know the difference? I’d be happy to explain.”

Hob interjects. “We know! I actually knit myself sometimes. Gives me something to do on the tube, y’know.”

The woman smiles knowingly. “And yet your boyfriend here looks like he’s about to freeze to death! Don’t you make him any hats or scarves?”

Both glance down at their attached hands, realizing they hadn’t let go. Hob is bright red, to the point he couldn’t blame it on the weather.

He moves to drop Dream’s hand as he says, “O-oh, we’re not—”

“He has not offered me any of his creations. A grave oversight if you ask me,” Dream cuts Hob off. He laces their fingers together, refusing to let go of their hands.

“Well, you better get yourself something warm to wear then, dearie. If that handsome young man won’t take care of you, we grannies certainly will. You look like you’re going to blow away!”

Dream’s lips quirk up, happy to play out the fantasy of having Hob to himself. He studies the scarves on display, running his free hand over the yarns. Tracing his hand over the variety of textures reminds him how humans feel all the time. The rougher yarns butt up against those spun for babies; cheaper acrylics next to fine cashmere. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere that Dream stores away in the vastness of himself as he finds the perfect scarf.

It's black, to match his ensemble, but as he looks closer, there are strands of silver interwoven that catch the light. It reminds him of the lining of the coat he wears in the Dreaming. He slips it out of the stack one-handed. It’s perhaps a task better done with both hands, but doesn’t dare let go of Hob now lest he never have a chance again. He hands it over to the vendor.

“I would like this one,” he says, avoiding Hob’s face.

“You know, I thought that one would be your style,” the old woman remarks. “Let me get my glasses on here, and I’ll let you know the price.” She hobbles over to the cash box, pulling out a well-worn pair of readers. She squints at the tiny handwritten tag.

“That’ll be 50 pounds.”

Dream looks at Hob, feeling color impossibly filling his face. In his excitement to pretend they were shopping together he’d forgotten that shopping costs money.

Hob sighs the kind of sigh a long-suffering husband sighs at his partner’s antics.

“I’ll buy it for you, dove, if you really want it that bad. I do need my hand back to do that, however.”

Dream reluctantly drops his hand, sticking his own in his jacket pocket. Hob reaches for his wallet and pulls out the necessary bills. The woman gives him his change but falters when she goes to wrap the purchase.

“I suppose you probably want to wear this now,” she chuckles, handing it over the table. Dream lifts his hand to receive it but before he can reach it, Hob grabs the scarf.

“Thank you very much, young ladies,” Hob winks and turns away. As he does, to Dream’s surprise, he puts his hand through the loop of Dream’s arm, pulling him towards a nearby alley.

Once safely tucked away from the crowd, Hob separates from Dream. He grabs him by the shoulders and turns him so they’re face to face. Hob unfolds the length of the scarf, stretching it to his full wingspan. He takes a step closer.

“So, are you going to tell me what all that was about? You seemed to like that she called me your boyfriend, huh?” He drapes the scarf around Dream’s neck, each end trailing down to his midriff.

Dream remains silent, unwilling to break the spell that has Hob so close. Hob’s hands run down the length of the scarf and Dream feels like his non-existent heart is in his throat.

Hob drops his left hand and grasps the section of scarf in his right tighter. He takes another step towards Dream. He can feel Hob’s hot breath on his skin at this distance. Hob takes the scarf and wraps it around his neck once, twice, three times. It’s not too tight, but it would not fall off if he moved his head around.

“And making me buy you pretty things, seems like a pretty romantic thing to do, Prince of Stories.”

Dream does not even attempt to hide the full body shudder this time.

Hob grabs the loose end of the scarf and pulls Dream toward him. He follows with no resistance, beholden to Hob’s manipulations as long as he doesn’t stop touching him. He’s only stopped by the solidity of Hob’s chest, broad and strong despite his sedentary lifestyle these days. Dream gasps, caught by Hob’s stare.

As their eyes lock, Hob releases the scarf moving his hands to hold Dream’s hips.

“Something you’d like to say, old friend?” He emphasizes the word friend, but there’s no aggression behind it. It’s teasing, like he knows what Dream wants but Hob wants the pleasure of hearing it from his mouth instead. His eyes are warm, and Dream feels as though he could drown in the depths of them. He clears his throat, if only to gather himself together.

“I admit I found the experience… pleasurable.” Hob huffs, squeezing his hips in his hands. “When you grabbed my wrist, I craved your touch after you released me. Your hand in mine…” He trails off, struggling to collect the words.

Hob, as always, waits patiently for him to find the words. There’s no frustration in his face, just open affection for Dream.

“It feels… correct. That we are perceived as thus. I should like it to be the truth. If you would accept my suit?”

“You silly creature,” Hob laughs. “Do you really think I didn’t like it too?”

“But you attempted to deny—” Another squeeze to the boney curve of his hips.

“Because I thought you might go ballistic! Because I just got you back and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna lose you again!” Hob shouts.

“I neglected to consider my actions the last time you attempted to name our association,” Dream looks at the ground, unwilling to look at Hob as he recalls that disastrous meeting. “I believed that we had moved past that.”

“Well, as much as I wanted to, there’s a little voice in my head that is still afraid, Dream. That I want more than you can give. That I’ll slip up and you’ll be gone again,” Hob’s voice breaks and Dream’s eyes snap up to meet his watery ones.

Dream finally brings his arms up to wrap around Hob’s waist, pulling him into a hug.

“Beloved, I swear to you on all that I am that I shall never repeat my mistake. My previous romances have ended in disaster. I had thought I was protecting you from further pain, as I am the one who has been told my love is too much.” He lets go just enough to pull back to look Hob in the eye. “However, it has come to my attention that my feelings regarding you are… Different. Than before. Perhaps it is because we have been friends first.”

Hob sniffles, but the tears have disappeared from his eyes.

“You know, that could be. If you’re willing to try, old friend? I swear to you that even if this is a disaster, we’ll still be friends afterward. But I’ll let you know ahead of time, I don’t intend to ever let you go,” he says, a playful glint in his eye.

Then, Hob’s hands are on his scarf again, pulling Dream’s head toward him. He lets himself be moved, and when their lips finally meet, Dream feels as though he’s been waiting for this since he escaped. Months—no, centuries—of longing coalescing into one kiss. Then another, as they press impossibly closer to each other in the alley. Hob’s musky, oaky scent is intoxicating. Dream drinks it in as he licks across the seam of Hob’s mouth, desperate to get more. Hob lets him in gladly, parting his lips as his stubble scratches against the porcelain of Dream’s skin. Dream tastes as much of him as Hob will allow, flicking his tongue across the wet heat. He thinks he could die happy, but then he would have to leave Hob.

When they finally pull apart, Dream lets a whine escape his mouth, unable to accept the fact that Hob needs to breathe. Panting, Hob chuckles.

“No need to whine, my sweet. There’s plenty where that came from. Just need a breather or else we’ll be caught out here for public indecency.” He lets Dream go but Dream still clings to him.

“Darling, I’m serious. I promise I’ll take you home after a bit, but we did come here with the intent to shop. As much as I’m happy you’re my… boyfriend? Lover?” Dream nods at the second title. “Lover, right. I want to spend some time out here in the market with you, okay?”

Dream lets him go but grabs his hand almost immediately, unwilling to stop touching for any reason now that he knows he’s allowed. Hob laces their fingers together, dragging him back out of the alley.

“Now, shall I tempt you to actually eat something for once? For me?” Hob bats his eyelashes at Dream, and damn him, it works. Anything to see Hob’s beautiful smile. He lets Hob tug him down the street toward daydreams of fresh-made bread and pastries, excited for millennia to come.

[camlannpod]

Character Playlist: Morgan

Happy off-week! Episode 3 is coming out next Monday, so whilst we wait, here's a playlist all about my beloved Morgan Jones. Last time we posted about Dai, (you can find that playlist here), because episode 1 is very much his episode. Episode 2 is Morgan's, and as you might notice, she's on a much darker and spookier path than her found sibling.

Hurricane by Reuben and the Dark

I am broken, I am brave The way the body behaves I am free, I'm afraid A mirror of my mistakes

Morgan's been through so much. The Cataclysm was awful for everyone, but Morgan was traumatised long before the world ended, and things have just got worse. She is explicitly terrified of her own name in this new world - of what it means and could mean. She so desperately doesn't want to hurt people, and she's so terrified that she will.

2. Witch's Rune by S. J. Tucker

By earth and water, air and fire By blade and bowl and circle round We come to you with our desire Let all that is hidden now be found

Morgan Le Fay! Witch, sister, villain, survivor. Our Morgan is intimately familiar with the story of her namesake, and thinks of Morgan like a witch inside her, or a ghost haunting her. The whole gang have different perspectives on how the Names work, but our Morgan definitely sees it like a curse.

3. Sing of the Moon by The Collection

So we sing of the moon and the face that it hides Shining just half of its truth to our skies But bring me the sun that gives it all its light I don't want to just wait to die

Morgan is very much the moon to Dai's sun. I often think of them like a binary star system - they are completely inextricable from each other, and if they were ever separated they'd both spin out and be lost in chaos. Morgan is more shy than Dai, more reserved. He brings out her lighter side, but she's always aware of the fact that one day that will end.

4. Old Churchyard by The Wailin' Jennys

I know that it's vain when our friends depart To breathe kind words to a broken heart And I know that the joy of life is marred When we follow lost friends to the old churchyard*

Everyone's lost people, but Morgan most all. Most traumatically, she saw her younger brother Ben die in front of her - a fresh trauma from which she still hasn't recovered. Morgan doesn't fear death. She's not a practicing Christian (I think she's an atheist) but she sees it as a simple, restful end to a long and painful life. What she does fear is losing people - it's the thing she fears most of all.

(*Note at the end of the post)

5. Better in the Morning by Birdtalker

Tired and worn from the patterns I’ve carved I will do better in the morning I’m afraid of who I’d be without you I will do better in the morning

We'll learn more about Morgan's childhood later in the series, but suffice it to say that every day of her life, Morgan has gotten up and tried again. For me she's very much that image of hope with bloodied knuckles, forcing herself to stand up and get back into the fight. It isn't easy for Morgan to keep surviving, let alone to keep trying to be happy. But she tries, because Dai loves her, and she loves him, and he reminds her that life is worth living.

6. Pyrokinesis by 7Chariot

We could set the world on fire using only our minds Pyrokinesis we hurt each other without trying

The gang don't know if magic is exclusive to the Phenomena, or if it's even magic as we would describe it. They don't know if it's mushroom spores or something alien, science they don't understand, strange divinities or straight up magical powers. They also don't know whether or not Morgan has magic. If she does, it's not presented itself in any way that's obvious to her - beyond her nightmares. But she often has dreams about the monsters they've faced, and it's hard for her to untangle nightmares from trauma from dreams that might be more significant. Part of her worries that somehow she's making things real, and drawing the monsters closer to them.

7. Ghost by ZZ Ward

Hear the Devil call out my name Broken promises, burning flames Frozen hearts in a lover's grave God knows, darling, god knows I gave

Morgan's biggest enemy is herself. She's most afraid of herself - and Morgan le Fay. She's terrified of hurting people and losing control. But if she could ever just let herself be angry, even more outspoken - if she could relax enough to try and enjoy all the ferocious freedom of one of history's greatest witches? She could be incredible. And even now - she has the capacity for a ferocious kind of burning joy that she has stolen from everyone and everything that's ever tormented her. When she parties, she parties hard.

8. Mile Magnificent by Molly Ofgeography

An apartment when it's empty echoes lovely, bright and clean Sing odes to green-blue water that we stole so it comes free All things end, it's part of living; forest fires feed the trees Lift your glasses full of sunshine, sing a toast to gasoline And it feels like a good, good omen I've never been much of a good, good woman But good things are coming Good good things are coming

Morgan has always been kind of terrible at being 'a woman' - whatever that means. She's not demure, she's not obedient, gentle, or agreeable, and she's never been especially feminine. She's always been outspoken, blunt, short-tempered and direct - a woman who acts first and talks later. In the world before, that could be a problem sometimes - something she was insecure about, that made it hard to fit in (though figuring out her queerness helped a lot). In the apocalypse, all of these things are exactly why she survived, and there's a part of her that's determined to snatch a life from the ruins and the ashes.

9. We Will All Be Changed by Seryn

We can shape but can't control These possibilities to grow Weeds amongst the push and pull Waiting on the wind to take us

Every main character playlist in the show ends with this song.

*A note on Christianity in Camlann - I'm not a practicing Christian, I consider myself agnostic. But because I grew up in a Christian family in the UK, I am culturally Christian. However we might feel about it, Arthurian legends and British folklore are pretty inextricable from Christian influence. Christianity's been here a long old time, and we don't have a lot of reliable written sources that cover the pre-Christian period. As a result, some of the songs on these playlists contain Christian themes. I hope that isn't too troubling to people. To be very clear, all faiths deserve reverence and respect, and Christianity is far from the only religion practiced in Britain over the last 2,000 years.

[makuta-tobi]

Might as well share my story here, since I've seen a few. (And sorry I'm advance for the length, it's been a loaded few decades)

As a young child, I had trouble sleeping in my own bed. I don't think it was ever really nightmares, or bad dreams, but sometimes I would wake up and feel uncomfortable, so like many 5-6 year olds, I went and crawled in bed with my mother.

She found this annoying, and after talking with my doctor, it was decided I would be rewarded for stretches of time spent in my own bed. I remember a Beyblade, and a Land Before Time toy, but one day I get this canister. I had always thought Technic robots were cool, I had a few Roboriders and a Throwbot or two, but this was a whole other level. Onua was my first, and I fell instantly in love.

Fast forward almost a decade later, I have most Bionicles. I've spent countless hours on BZPower, reading leaks, and bookmarking galleries full of cool MoCs I could never recreate. And I stumble up on a comedy series on YouTube featuring Jaller. I spend weeks watching all of it, over and over. I get my one friend who still likes Bionicle to watch it, and he informs me about a movie, hosted on a separate site. I, of course, run to it, and I discover a chat box. And somehow, I begin to meet people.

I go deeper, and find that this chat box is part of a much larger chatroom website, where I spend all my free time for years. Making friends, making enemies, roleplaying, falling in love, and getting talked down from ending my own life.

As I am there, I find more YouTubers who post Bionicles. I start to follow them on websites like deviantART, I follow some of them on Tumblr in 2012. And I fall off my interest in Bionicle for a bit. The end of the series was bland, and dry. I move on, I keep a passing interest in Hero Factory, I buy the sets, and the books, but I don't engage further. But eventually I come back to Bionicle, and I fall in love all over again.

I begin writing fanfiction again, I flesh out my OC I created in 2008, and I start following an active community again.

I may not be as involved as I used to be. I haven't made a YouTube video, or written a fanfiction, or even built a MoC in many years, despite missing it. But the greater community has never let me down.

Without this silly franchise, I wouldn't have been as creative as I was when I was a kid, I wouldn't have made some of the friends I have, and in a roundabout, but still pretty direct way, I wouldn't be alive. I'm so happy, that 23 years on, we can all come together, and play with our little plastic toys, and have fun, and thrive. Thanks, everyone, for still being around.

[dark-night-insomniac]

My Valentine

| Dreamcatcher Dami x GN! s/o

| Genre: fluff, tiny angst, also a quickly written story

| 1k words ~

A/n: for Katie :) @panda-writes-kpop

—————-—-/—————-/————-——-

Being separated from your lover on this day wasn’t anything new. With both your lives came immense responsibilities that none could escape.

Stuck at school, you impatiently waited for the day to be over. You dreamed of coming back home to her, to feel her warm embrace and the endless comfort and love she provided you.

On the other side, Dami was patiently waiting for her day at the studio to be done with. She knew great things took time, and if doing her job right meant she’d see you earlier, then she was more than willing to be patient.

Luckily for her, unlike you, her day was cut short.

Dami had prepared for this day. Although she hates to admit it, she’s been thinking about it for months, trying to find the perfect way to make this day perfect for you.

Would she prefer going out? Staying at home? Dami decided on the first option, seeing as though you'd be coming back from a long day out at school.

Staying at home didn’t mean she was gonna let it get boring though. She had a very special list with her, which she had written months prior without ever letting you know.

As she got out of work, she took her special list out to start her journey to what she hoped would be the perfect valentine's day for you.

She had wanted you both to stay home today, but seeing how important your studies are to you, she let you follow your heart. Resulting in you going to study at school and working hard like you always do.

But before she could let you go. She pulled you back into her embrace, leaving another lingering kiss on your lips. Letting her hands gently caress your hips before hugging you close.

Dami wanted to cherish every moment with you, forever trying to remind you how much she loved you.

You truly were a miracle to her, a source of light in this sometime dark world. Someone that reminded her why life was so worth it and how amazing it could be.

She kept thinking about you every second of the day. And now, as she was making her way to your favorite coffee shop, she couldn't stop herself from smiling as images of you were replaying in her mind.

Although this was a coffee shop, Dami would be getting your favorite milkshake here.

After getting the largest size possible, she made her way to a nearby bakery to get some of your favorite treats.

Next was the flower stand near your shared apartment. Dami picked many different colored roses to make a bouquet that reminded her of you.

Now that all her errands were done, she made her way up to your apartment, unlocking the door before placing all her gifts on the table.

She decorated the apartment with a few red colored decorations before ordering takeout from your favorite place.

After giving out the address, a knock was heard on the door.

She quickly looked at herself in the mirror, trying to tend to her appearance quickly before opening the door.

Calmly, she greeted you with a charming smile. ‘’Welcome home my love’’ she offered her hand to you, making you follow her to the living room, where her gifts were spread out in the shape of a heart.

You gasped at the sight, immediately kissing her soft lips to thank her before kneeling before the table.

Dami watched in admiration as you excitedly tasted every treat and smelled all the flowers.

When you turned around to thank her once again though, she had yet another surprise.

She sat beside you before pulling from behind her two panda plushies. The both of them were adorably stuck to each other, holding a heart together.

‘’It’s us’’ she smiled.

You cooed at her before jumping to her, making her fall from your hug. She giggled while rubbing your back as you laid on top of her.

‘’You really are a simp’’ you teased her, making her ears turn red.

‘’Only for you’’ she replied before muffling your laugh with her lips.

Before she could tease you back at how she successfully stopped you from laughing, a knock was heard yet again, meaning your dinner was here.

She grabbed her wallet before opening the door to pay. Now placing the food before you on the small living room table.

She put on your favorite comfort tv show and brought you a glass of water to help with the food.

——

About an hour later, you were both full and comfortably laying on the sofa

Dami had even applied a clay mask to your face to help you relax, taking it off gently with a warm towel while your head was laying in her lap. She then massaged your temples before leaving a kiss on your forehead.

Although you felt sleepy, dami had one last surprise for you.

Carefully getting up from the sofa, she grabbed her phone to play one of your favorite songs. When you realized what she was planning, you couldn't help the smile spreading on your face.

Dami slightly bowed before offering her hand to you. ‘’Would you allow me this dance miss?’’she grinned

You stood up to join her, both your bodies quickly colliding in a warm embrace. As she swayed you within her strong grip, you let your head lay on her chest.

Although Dami wasn’t one to express her feelings with words, she gave you the words you had been waiting for all day.

‘’I love you so much’’ dami said through a slightly blurry vision, feeling forever grateful to have you

‘’I love you too baby’’ you replied before cupping her face to give her a kiss the both of you wouldn't be pulling out of for a while.

[thewidowsghost]

Seeing the Beauty (Piper McLean x Fem!Jackson!Reader) - Chapter 9

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Jason doesn't want to leave Leo, but he starts to think that hanging out with Cal the hockey jock might be the least dangerous option in this place.

As they climb the icy staircase, Zethes stays behind them, his blade drawn. The guy might look like a disco-era reject, but there is nothing funny about his sword. Jason figures that one hit from that thing would probably turn him into a Popsicle.

Then there is the ice princess. Every once in a while, she'd turn and give Jason a smile, but there is no warmth in her expression. She regards Jason like he is an especially interesting science specimen – one she couldn't wait to dissect.

(Y/n) doesn't seem to notice, but Jason keeps catching the ice princess watching her closely, her eyes greedy.

(Y/n) was worried that they were being led into a trap. If things go bad, she isn't sure that she could get them out alive. Without thinking about it, she takes Piper's hand for reassurance.

The daughter of Aphrodite raises her eyebrows, but doesn't let go. "It'll be fine," Piper says softly. "It's just a talk, right?"

At the top of the stairs, the ice princess looks back and notices the two teens holding hands. Her smile fades. Suddenly, (Y/n)'s hand in Piper's turns ice cold – burning cold. She lets go, her fingers smoking with frost, and so are Piper's.

"Holy fuck," (Y/n) mutters for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

"Warmth is not a good idea here," the princess advises, "especially when I am your best change at staying alive. Please, this way."

Piper gives (Y/n) a nervous frown like, What was that about?

(Y/n) doesn't have an answers. Zethes pokes her in the back with his icicle sword, about half an inch above the small of her back, and a warning signal goes off in (Y/n)'s head – Too close! Too close!

They follow the princess down a massive hallway decked in frosty tapestries.

Freezing winds blow back and forth, and Jason's thoughts move almost as fast. He'd had a lot of time to think while they rode the dragon north, but he feels as confused as ever. Thalia's picture is still in his pocket, though he doesn't need to look at it anymore – her image has burned itself into his mind. It is bad enough not remembering his past, but to know he has a sister out there somewhere who might have the answer and to have no way of finding her. The only thing he knew about Thalia was (Y/n)'s comment earlier about how a statue of Hera had broken her legs.

In the picture, Thalia looks nothing like him. They both have blue eyes, but that is it. Her hair is black, and her complexion is more Mediterranean. Her facial features are sharper – like a hawk's.

Still, Thalia looks so familiar. Hera had left him just enough memory that he could be certain Thalia is his sister. But Annabeth had acted completely surprised when he'd told her, like she'd never heard of Thalia's having a brother. Did Thalia even know about him? How had they been separated?

(Y/n) continues to walk down the hall beside Piper, and she starts questioning the warning signal that had gone off in her head.

The River Styx's current swirls with strange objects – broken toys, ripped-up college diplomas, wilted homecoming corsages – all the dreams people had thrown away as they'd passed from life into death. Looking at the black water, (Y/n) can think of about three million places she'd rather swim.

"So," Percy begins. "We just jump in?

"You have to prepare yourself first," Nico says, "or the river will destroy you. It will burn away your body and soul."

"Sounds fun," (Y/n) mutters.

"This is no joke," Nico warns. There is only one way to stay anchored to your mortal life. You have to . . ." He glances behind the two children of Poesideon and his eyes widen. Percy and (Y/n) turn and find themselves face-to-face with a Greek warrior.

For a second, Percy thinks he's Ares, because the warrior looked exactly like the god of war – tall and buff, with a cruel, scarred face and closely shaven black hair. He is wearing a white tunic and bronze armor. He holds a plumed war helm under his arm, but his eyes are human – pale green like a shallow sea – and a blood arrow sticks out of his left calf, just above the ankle.

Percy stunk at Greek names, but even he knew the greatest warrior of all time, who had died from a wounded heel.

"Achilles," both (Y/n) and Percy say in unison.

The ghost nods. "I warned the other one not to follow my path. Now I will warn you." He looks first at Percy, and then at (Y/n).

"Luke? You spoke with Luke?" (Y/n) asks, frowning slightly.

"Do not do this," he says. "It will make you powerful. But it will also make you weak. Your prowess in combat will be beyond any mortal's, but your weakness, your failings will increase as well."

"You mean I'll have a bad heel?" Percy asks. "Couldn't we just, like, wear something besides sandals? No offense?"

Achilles stares down at his bloody foot. "The heel is only my physical weakness, demigod. My mother, Thetis, held me there when she dipped me into the Styx. What really killed me was my own arrogance. Beware! Turn back!"

And (Y/n) knows he means it. There is regret and bitterness in his voice. He was honestly trying to save them from a terrible fate.

But then again – Luke hadn't turned back. That's why he had been able to host the spirit of Kronos without his body disintegrating. This is how he'd prepared himself, and why he seemed impossible to kill. He'd bathed in the Styx and taken on the power of the greatest moral hero, Achilles. He was invincible.

(Y/n) exchanges a look with her brother.

"We have to," (Y/n) speaks for both of them. "Otherwise, we don't stand a chance."

Achilles lowers his head. "Let the gods witness that I tried. Heroes, if you mist do this, concentrate on your moral point. Imagine one spot of your body that will remain vulnerable. THis is the point where your soul will anchor your body to the world. It will be your greatest weakness, but also your only hope. No moral must be completely invulnerable. Lose sight of what keeps you moral, and the River Styx will burn you to ashes. You will cease to exist."

"I don't suppose you could tell us Luke's mortal point?" Percy asks.

He scowls at Percy. "Prepare yourself, foolish boy. Whether you survive this or not, you have sealed your doom!"

With that happy thought, he vanishes.

"Percy," Nico says, "maybe he's right."

"This was your idea."

"I know, but now that we're here—"

"Just wait on the shore. If anything happens to us . . . Well, maybe Hades will get his wish, and you'll be the child of the prophecy after all."

He doesn't look pleased about that, but (Y/n) doesn't care.

Before she could change her mind, (Y/n) concentrates on the small of her back — a tiny point just opposite her navel, a point well defended when she wore her armor. It would be hard to hit by accident, and few enemies would aim for it on purpose. No place is perfect, but this seemed right to her, and a lot more dignified than, like, her armpit or something.

(Y/n) pictures a string, a bungee cord connecting her to the world from the small of her back. And (Y/n) and Percy step into the river.

"Hey," Piper's voice tears (Y/n) back to the present. She touches (Y/n)'s arm. "You still with me?"

"Yeah . . . I . . . Yeah, sorry," (Y/n) murmurs, and Piper meet's (Y/n)'s gaze for a moment.

(Y/n) is grateful for Piper. She needed a friend, and (Y/n) is glad she started losing the Aphrodite blessing. Her makeup is fading, and her hair is slowly going back to its old choppy style with the cute little braids down the sides. It made her look more real, and as far as (Y/n) is concerned, more beautiful.

She is sure now that they'd never known each other before the Grand Canyon. Their friendship was just a trick of the Mist in Piper's mind, but the longer (Y/n) spends with her, the more she wishes it had been real. That she had known Piper longer than a day and a half.

Stop that, she tells herself. It isn't fair to Piper, thinking that way.

At the end of the hallway, the demigods find themselves in front of a set of oaken doors carved with a map of the world. In each corner is a man's bearded face, blowing wind. (Y/n) is pretty sure she'd seen maps like this before, but in this version, all the wind guys are Winter, blowing ice and snow from every corner of the world.

The princess turns. Her brown eyes glitter, and Jason feels like he is a Christmas present she is hoping to open. "This is the throne room," she says. "Be on your best behavior, Jason Grace. My father can be . . . chilly. I will translate for you, and try to encourage him to hear you out. I do hope he spares you. We could have such fun."

Jason guesses this girl's definition of fun was not the same as his. "Um, okay," he manages. "But really, we're just here for a little talk. We'll be leaving right afterward."

The princess smiles. "I love heroes. So blissfully ignorant."

Piper rests her hand on her dagger. "Well, how about you enlighten us? You say you're going to translate for us, and we don't even know who you are. What's your name?"

The girl sniffs with distaste. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you don't recognize me. Even in the ancient times the Greeks did not know me well. Their island homes were too warm, too far from my domain. I am Khione, daughter of Boreas, goddess of snow."

She stirs the air with her finger, and a miniature blizzard swirls around her – big, fluffy flakes as soft as cotton.

"Now come," Khione says. The oaken door blows open, and cold blue light spills out of the room. "Hopefully you will survive your little talk."

Mist hangs in the air. (Y/n) shivers, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jacket, and she clutches her pen in her pocket. Along the walls, purple tapestries show scenes of snowy forests, barren mountains, and glaciers. High above, ribbons of colored light — the aurora borealis — pulses along the ceiling. A layer of snow covers the floor, so (Y/n) has to step carefully. All around the room stand life-size ice sculpture warriors — some in Greek armor, some medieval, some in modern camouflage — all frozen in various attack positions, swords raised, guns locked and loaded.

At least Jason thought they were sculptures. Then he tries to step between two Greek spearmen, and they move with surprising speed, their joints cracking and spraying ice crystals as they cross their javelins to block Jason's path.

From the far end of the hall, a man's voice rings out in a language that sounds like French. The room is so long and misty, Jason can't see the other end; but whatever the man says, the ice guards uncross their javelins.

"It's fine," Khione says. "My father has ordered them not to kill you just yet."

"Super," Jason replies.

Zethes prods him in the back with his sword. "Keep moving, Jason Junior."

"Please don't call me that."

"My father is not a patient man," Zethes warns, "and the beautiful Piper, sadly, is losing her magic hairdo very fast. Later, perhaps, I can lend her something from my wide assortment of hair products."

"Thanks," Piper grumbles.

They keep walking, and the mist parts to reveal a man on an ice throne. He is sturdily built, dressed in a stylish white suit that seems woven from snow, with dark purple wings that spread out to either side. His long hair and shaggy beard are encrusted with icicles, so (Y/n) can't tell if his hair is gray or just white with frost. His arched eyebrows make him look angry, but his eyes twinkle more warmly than his daughter's — as if he might have a sense of humor buried somewhere under that permafrost. (Y/n) hoped so.

"Bienvenu," the king says. "Je suis Boreas Le Roi. Et vous?"

Khione the snow goddess is about to speak, but Piper steps forward and curtsied. "Votre Majesté," she says. "Je suis Piper McLean. Et voici Jason, fils de Zeus. Et (Y/n) Jackson, fille de Poséidon."

The king smiles with pleasant surprise. "Vous parlez français? Très bien!"

"Piper, you speak French?" (Y/n) asks.

Piper frowns. "No. Why?"

"You just spoke French."

Piper blinks. "I did?" The king said something else, and Piper nodded. "Oui, Votre Majesté."

The king laughs and claps his hands, obviously delighted. He says a few more sentences then sweeps his hand toward his daughter as if shooing her away.

Khione looks miffed. "The king says –"

"He says I'm a daughter of Aphrodite," Piper interrupts, "so naturally I can speak French, which is the language of love. I had no idea. His Majesty says Khione won't have to translate now.

Behind them, Zethes snorts, and Khione shoots him a murderous look. She bows stiffly to her father and takes a step back.

The king sizes up Jason, and Jason decides it would be a good idea to bow. "Your Majesty, I'm Jason Grace. Thank you for, urn, not killing us. May I ask . . . why does a Greek god speak French?"

Piper has another exchange with the king. "He speaks the language of his host country," Piper translates. "He says all gods do this. Most Greek gods speak English, as they now reside in the United States, but Boreas was never welcomed in their realm. His domain was always far to the north. These days he likes Quebec, so he speaks French."

The king says something else, and Piper turns pale. "The king says . . ." She falters. "He says —"

"Oh, allow me," Khione says, smirking. "My father says he has orders to kill you. Did I not mention that earlier?"

(Y/n) tenses. The king was still smiling amiably, like he'd just delivered great news."Kill us?" (Y/n) asks. "Why?"

"Because," the king says, in heavily accented English, "my lord Aeolus has commanded it."

Boreas rises. He steps down from his throne and furls his wings against his back. As he approaches, Khione and Zethes bow. Jason, (Y/n), and Piper follow their example.

"I shall deign to speak your language," Boreas says, "as Piper McLean has honored me in mine. Toujours, I have had a fondness for the children of Aphrodite. As for you, Jason Grace, my master Aeolus would not expect me to kill a son of Lord Zeus . . . without first hearing you out." Boreas then sizes up (Y/n). "As for you, Jackson. I'm sure your upstart father wouldn't mind. He has replacements."

Piper watches (Y/n)'s jaw tense, and (Y/n) pulls a hand from her pocket, still clutching her pen. If she was forced to fight, Piper doesn't like her friend's chances. Two seconds at least to summon her blade. Then she'd be facing a god, two of his children, and an army of freeze-dried warriors.

"Aeolus is the master of the winds, right?" Jason asks quickly, taking Boreas's attention off of (Y/n). "Why would he want us dead?"

"You are demigods," Boreas replies, as if this explained everything. "Aeolus's job is to contain the winds, and demigods have always caused him many headaches. They ask him for favors. They unleash winds and cause chaos. But the final insult was the battle with Typhon last summer . . ."

Boreas waves his hand, and a sheet of ice like a flat-screen TV appears in the air. Images of a battle flicker across the surface — a giant wrapped in storm clouds, wading across a river toward the Manhattan skyline. Tiny, glowing figures — the gods, Jason guesses — swarm around him like angry wasps, pounding the monster with lightning and fire. Finally the river erupts in a massive whirlpool, and the smoky form sinks beneath the waves and disappears.

"The storm giant, Typhon," Boreas explains. "The first time the gods defeated him, eons ago, he did not die quietly. His death released a host of storm spirits — wild winds that answered to no one. It was Aeolus's job to track them all down and imprison them in his fortress. The other gods — they did not help. They did not even apologize for the inconvenience. It took Aeolus centuries to track down all the storm spirits, and naturally this irritated him. Then, last summer, Typhon was defeated again —"

"And his death released another wave of venti," Jason guesses. "Which made Aeolus even angrier."

"C'est vrai," Boreas agreed.

"But, Your Majesty," Piper says, "the gods had no choice but to battle Typhon. He was going to destroy Olympus! Besides, why punish demigods for that?"

The king shrugs. "Aeolus cannot take out his anger on the gods. They are his bosses, and very powerful. So he gets even with the demigods who helped them in the war. He issued orders to us: demigods who come to us for aid are no longer to be tolerated. We are to crush your little mortal faces."

There is an uncomfortable silence.

"That sounds . . . extreme," Jason ventures. "But you're not going to crush our faces yet, right? You're going to listen to us first, 'cause once you hear about our quest —''

"Nfes, yes," the king agrees. "You see, Aeolus also said that a son of Zeus might seek my aid, and if this happened, I should listen to you before destroying you, as you might — how did he put it? — make all our lives very interesting. I am only obligated to listen, however. After that, I am free to pass judgment as I see fit. But I will listen first. Khione wishes this also. It may be that we will not kill you."

Jason feels like he can almost breathe again. "Great. Thanks."

"Do not thank me." Boreas smiles. "There are many ways you could make our lives interesting. Sometimes we keep demigods for our amusement, as you can see." He gestures to the various ice statues.

Piper makes a strangled noise. "You mean – they're all demigods? Frozen demigods? They're alive?"

"An interesting question," Boreas concedes, as if it had never occurred to him before. "They do not move unless they are obeying my orders. The rest of the time, They are merely frozen. Unless they were to melt, I suppose, which would be very messy.

Khione steps behind (Y/n), and places her cold fingers on her neck. "My father gives me such lovely presents," she murmurs in (Y/n)'s ear. "Join our court. Perhaps I'll let your friends go."

"What?" Zethes breaks in. "If Khione gets this one, then I deserve the girl. Khione always gets more presents!"

"Now, children," Boreas says sternly. "Our guests will think you are spoiled! Besides, you moved too fast. We have not even heard the demigod's story yet. Then we will decide what to do with them. Please, Jason Grace, entertain us."

Jason feels his brain shutting down. He doesn't look at (Y/n) or Piper for fear he'd completely lose it. He'd gotten them into this, and now they are going to die — or worse, they'd be amusements for Boreas's children and end up frozen forever in this throne room, slowly corroding from freezer burn.

Khione purrs, padding over to Jason, and stroking his neck. Jason doesn't plan it, but electricity sparks along his skin. There is loud pop, and Khione flies backward, skidding across the floor.

Zethes laughs. "That is good! I'm glad you did that, even though I have to kill you now."

For a moment, Khione is too stunned to react. Then the air around her begins to swirl with a micro-blizzard. "You dare —"

"Stop," Jason orders, with as much force as he can muster. "You're not going to kill us. And you're not going to keep us. We're on a quest for the queen of the gods herself, so unless you want Hera busting down your doors, you're going to let us go." He sounds a lot more confident than he feels, but it gets their attention. Khione's blizzard swirls to a stop. Zethes lowers his sword. They both look uncertainty at their father.

"Hmm," Boreas says. His eyes twinkle, but Jason can't tell if it is with anger or amusement. "A son of Zeus, favored by Hera? This is definitely a first. Tell us your story."

Jason would've botched it right there. He hadn't been expecting to get the chance to talk, and now that he could, his voice abandoned him.

Piper saves him. "Your Majesty." She curtsies again with incredible poise, considering her life is on the line. She tell Boreas the whole story, from the Grand Canyon to the prophecy, much better and faster than Jason could have.

"All we ask for is guidance," Piper concludes. "These storm spirits attacked us, and they're working for some evil mistress. If we find them, maybe we can find Hera."

The king strokes the icicles in his beard. Out the windows, night had fallen, and the only light comes from the aurora borealis overhead, washing everything in red and blue.

"I know of these storm spirits," Boreas says. "I know where they are kept, and of the prisoner they took."

"You mean Coach Hedge?" (Y/n) questions. "He's alive?"

Boreas waves aside the question. "For now. But the one who controls these storm winds . . . It would be madness to oppose her. You would be better staying here as frozen statues."

"Hera's in trouble," Jason says. "In three days she's going to be — I don't know — consumed, destroyed, something. And a giant is going to rise."

"Yes," Boreas agrees. He shoots Khione an angry look. "Many horrible things are waking. Even my children do not tell me all the news they should. The Great Stirring of monsters that began with Kronos – your father Zeus foolishly believed it would end when the Titans were defeated." The king glances at (Y/n) and Piper and Jason look at the daughter of Poesidon. "But just as it was before, so it is now. The final battle is yet to come, and the one who will wake is more terrible than any Titan. Storm spirits — these are only beginning. The earth has many more horrors to yield up. When monsters no longer stay in Tartarus, and souls are no longer confined to Hades . . . Olympus has good reason to fear."

Jason isn't sure what all this means, but he doesn't like the way Khione is smiling — like this is her definition of fun.

"So you'll help us?" Jason asks the king.

Boreas scowls. "I did not say that."

"Please, Your Majesty," Piper says. Everyone's eyes turn towards her. She had to be scared out of her mind, but she looks beautiful and confident — and it has nothing to do with the blessing of Aphrodite. She looks like herself again, in day-old traveling clothes with choppy hair and no makeup. But she almost glows with warmth in that cold throne room. "If you tell us where the storm spirits are, we can capture them and bring them to Aeolus. You'd look good in front of your boss. Aeolus might pardon us and the other demigods. We could even rescue Gleeson Hedge. Everyone wins."

"She's pretty," Zethes mumbles. "I mean, she's right."

"Father, don't listen to her," Khione says. "She's a child of Aphrodite. She dares to charmspeak a god? Freeze her now!"

Boreas considers this. Jason slips his hand in his pocket and gets ready to bring out the gold coin. If things go wrong, he'd have to move fast.

The movement catches Boreas's eye. "What is that on your forearm, demigod?"

Jason hadn't realized his coat sleeve had gotten pushed up, revealing the edge of his tattoo. Reluctantly, he shows Boreas his marks.

The god's eyes widen. Khione actually hisses and steps away.

Then Boreas does something unexpected. He laughs so loudly, an icicle cracks from the ceiling and crashes next to his throne. The god's form begins to flicker. His beard disappears. He grows taller and thinner, and his clothes change into a Roman toga, lined with purple. His head is crowned with a frosty laurel wreath, and a gladius — a Roman sword like Jason's — hangs at his side.

"Aquilon," Jason says, though he doesn't know where he gets the god's Roman name from.

The god inclines his head. "You recognize me better in this form, yes. And yet you said you come from Camp Half-Blood?"

Jason shifts his feet. "Uh . . . yes, Your Majesty."

"And Hera sent you there . . ." The winter god's eyes are full of mirth. "I understand now. Oh, she plays a dangerous game. Bold, but dangerous! No wonder Olympus is closed. They must be trembling at the gamble she has taken."

"Jason," Piper says nervously, "why did Boreas change shape? The toga, the wreath. What's going on?"

"It's his Roman form," Jason replies. "But what's going on — I don't know."

The god laughs. "No, I'm sure you don't. This should be very interesting to watch."

"Does that mean you'll let us go?" Piper asks.

"My dear," Boreas says, "there is no reason for me to kill you. If Hera's plan fails, which I think it will, you will tear each other apart. Aeolus will never have to worry about demigods again."

Jason feels as if Khione's cold fingers are on his neck again, but it isn't her — it's just the feeling that Boreas is right. That sense of wrongness which had bothered Jason since he got to Camp Half-Blood, and Chiron's comment about his arrival being disastrous — Boreas knew what they meant.

"I don't suppose you could explain?" Jason asks.

"Oh, perish the thought! It is not for me to interfere in Hera's plan. No wonder she took your memory." Boreas chuckles, apparently still having a great time imagining demigods tearing each other apart. "You know, I have a reputation as a helpful wind god. Unlike my brethren, I've been known to fall in love with mortals. Why, my sons Zethes and Calais started as demigods —"

"Which explains why they are idiots," Khione growls.

"Stop it!" Zethes snaps back. "Just because you were born a full goddess —"

"Both of you, freeze," Boreas orders. Apparently, that word carries a lot of weight in the household, because the two siblings go absolutely still. "Now, as I was saying, I have a good reputation, but it is rare that Boreas plays an important role in the affairs of gods. I sit here in my palace, at the edge of civilization, and so rarely have amusements. Why, even that fool Notus, the South Wind, gets spring break in Cancun. What do I get? A winter festival with naked Quebecois rolling around in the snow!"

"I like the winter festival," Zethes mutters.

"My point," Boreas snaps, "is that I now have a chance to be the center. Oh, yes, I will let you go on this quest. You will find your storm spirits in the windy city, of course. Chicago —"

"Father!" Khione protests.

Boreas ignores his daughter. "If you can capture the winds, you may be able to gain safe entrance to the court of Aeolus. If by some miracle you succeed, be sure to tell him you captured the winds on my orders."

"Okay, sure," Jason says. "So Chicago is where we'll find this lady who's controlling the winds? She's the one who's trapped Hera?"

"Ah." Boreas grins. "Those are two different questions, son of Jupiter."

Jupiter, Jason notices. Before, he called me son of Zeus.

"The one who controls the winds," Boreas continues, "yes, you will find her in Chicago. But she is only a servant — a servant who is very likely to destroy you. If you succeed against her and take the winds, then you may go to Aeolus. Only he has knowledge of all the winds on the earth. All secrets come to his fortress eventually. If anyone can tell you where Hera is imprisoned, it is Aeolus. As for who you will meet when you finally find Hera's cage — truly, if I told you that, you would beg me to freeze you."

"Father," Khione protests, "you can't simply let them —"

"I can do what I like," he says, his voice hardening. "I am still master here, am I not?"

The way Boreas glares at his daughter, it was obvious they had some ongoing argument.

Khione's eyes flash with anger, but she clenches her teeth. "As you wish, Father."

"Now go, demigods," Boreas says, "before I change my mind. Zethes, escort them out safely."

They all bow, and the god of the North Wind dissolves into mist.

. . .

Back in the entry hall, Cal and Leo are waiting for them. Leo looks cold but unharmed. He'd even gotten cleaned up, and his clothes look newly washed, like he'd used the hotel's valet service. Festus the Dragon is back in normal form, snorting fire over his scales to keep himself defrosted.

As Khione led them down the stairs, (Y/n) notices that Leo's eyes follow the ice princess. Leo started combing his hair back with his hands. Uh-oh, (Y/n) thinks. She makes a mental note to warn Leo about the snow goddess later. She was not someone to get a crush on.

At the bottom step, Khione turns to Piper. "You have fooled my father, girl. But you have not fooled me. We are not done. And you, (Y/n) Jackson, I will see you as a statue in the throne room soon enough."

"Boreas is right," (Y/n) says. "You're a spoiled kid. See you around, ice princess."

Khione's eyes flare pure white. For once, she seems at a loss for words. She storms back up the stairs — literally. Hallway up, she turns into a blizzard and disappears.

"Be careful," Zethes warns. "She never forgets an insult."

Cal grunts in agreement. "Bad sister."

"She's the goddess of snow," Jason says. "What's she going to do, throw snowballs at us?" But as he says it, Jason has a feeling Khione could do a whole lot worse.

Leo looks devastated. "What happened up there? You made her mad? Is she mad at me too? Guys, that was my prom date!"

"We'll explain later," Piper promises, but when she glances at Jason, he realizes she expected him to explain.

What had happened up there? Jason isn't sure. Boreas had turned into Aquilon, his Roman form, as if Jason's presence caused him to go schizophrenic.

The idea that Jason had been sent to Camp Half-Blood seemed to amuse the god, but Boreas/Aquilon hadn't let them go out of kindness. Cruel excitement had danced in his eyes, as if he'd just placed a bet on a dogfight.

You will tear each other apart, the king had said with delight. Aeolus will never have to worry about demigods again.

Jason looks away from Piper, trying not to show how unnerved he is. "Yeah," he agrees, "we'll explain later."

"Be careful, pretty girl," Zethes says. "The winds between here and Chicago are bad-tempered. Many other evil things are stirring. I am sorry you will not be staying. You would make a lovely ice statue, in which I could check my reflection."

"Thanks," Piper says. "But I'd sooner play hockey with Cal."

"Hockey?" Cal's eyes light up.

"Joking," Piper says quickly. "And the storm winds aren't our worst problem, are they?"

"Oh, no," Zethes agrees. "Something else. Something worse."

"Worse," Cal echoes.

"Can you tell me?" Piper gives them a smile.

This time, the charm doesn't work. The purple-winged Boreads shake their heads in unison. The hangar doors open onto a freezing starry night, and Festus the Dragon stomps his feet, anxious to fly.

"Ask Aeolus what is worse," Zethes says darkly. "He knows. Good luck."

He almost sounds like he cares what happened to them, even though a few minutes ago he'd wanted to make Piper into an ice sculpture.

Cal pats Leo on the shoulder. "Don't get destroyed," he says, which was probably the longest sentence he'd ever attempted. "Next time—hockey. Pizza."

"Come on, guys." Jason stares out at the dark. He is anxious to get out of that cold penthouse, but he has a feeling it was the most hospitable place they'd see for a while. "Let's go to Chicago and try not to get destroyed."

. . .

Piper doesn't relax until the glow of Quebec City fades behind them.

"You were amazing," (Y/n) tells her.

The compliment should've made Piper's day, but all she can think about is the trouble ahead. Evil things are stirring, Zethes had warned them. She knew that firsthand. The closer they get to the solstice, the less time Piper had to make her decision.

She tells (Y/n) in French: "If you knew the truth about me, you wouldn't think I was so amazing."

"What'd you say?" (Y/n) asks.

"I said I only talked to Boreas. It wasn't so amazing." Piper doesn't turn to look at her, but she can imagine the daughter of Poseidon smiling.

"Hey," she says. "You saved me from joining Khione's subzero hero collection. I owe you one."

That's definitely the easy part, Piper thinks. There was no way Piper would've let that witch keep (Y/n), and then she takes a moment to wonder where the strong feelings had come from. The night before, she'd been worried about her relationship with Jason, but now she was protecting (Y/n).

Piper is lost in her thoughts, and she starts when Jason passes her back a sandwich – from Leo. The son of Hephaestus had been quiet ever since they'd told him what had happened in the throne room. "I still can't believe Khione," he says. "She looked so nice."

"Trust me, man," (Y/n) says. "Snow may be pretty, but up close, it's cold and nasty. We'll find you a better prom date."

Piper smiles, but Leo doesn't look pleased. He hadn't said much about his time in the palace, or why the Boreads had singled him out for smelling like fire. Piper gets the feeling he's hiding something. Whatever it is, his mood seemed to be affecting Festus, who grumbles and steams as he tries to keep himself warm in the cold Canadian air. Happy the Dragon was not so happy.

They eat their sandwiches as they fly. Piper has no idea how Leo had stocked up on supplies, but he'd even remembered to bring veggie rations for her. The cheese and avocado sandwich was awesome.

Nobody talks. Whatever they might find in Chicago, they all know Boreas had only let them go because he figured they were already on a suicide mission.

The moon rises and the stars turn overhead. Piper's eyes start to feel heavy. The encounter with Boreas and his children had scared her more than she wanted to admit. Now that she has a full stomach, her adrenaline is fading.

Suck it up, cupcake! Coach Hedge would've yelled at her. Don't be a wimp!

Piper had been thinking about the coach ever since Boreas had mentioned that he was still alive. She'd never liked Hedge, but he'd leaped off a cliff to save Leo, and he'd sacrificed himself to protect them on the skywalk. She now realizes that all the times at school the coach had pushed her, yelled at her to run faster or do more push-ups, or even when he'd turned his back and let her fight her own battles with the mean girls, the old goat man had been trying to help her in his own irritating way – trying to prepare he for life as a demigod.

On the skywalk, Dylan the storm spirit had said something about the coach, too: how he'd been retired to Wilderness School because he was getting too old, like it was some sort of punishment. Piper wonders what that was about, and if it explained why the coach was always so grumpy. Whatever the truth, now that Piper knows Hedge was alive, she has a strong compulsion to save him.

Don't get ahead of yourself, she chides. You've got bigger problems. This trip won't have a happy ending. She's a traitor, just like Silena Beauregard. It was only a matter of time before her friends found out.

She looks up at the stars and thinks about a night long ago when she and her dad had camped out in front of Grandpa Tom's house. Grandpa Tom had died years before, but Dad had kept his house in Oklahoma because it was where he grew up.

Piper blinks, shaking herself out of the memory. She realizes she'd been falling asleep on the dragon's back. How could Dad pretend to be so many things he isn't? Trying to do that now was tearing Piper apart.

Maybe she could pretend for a little while longer. She could dream of a way of finding a way to save her father without betraying her friends — even if right now a happy ending seems about as likely as magic hedgehogs.

Piper sleepily leans back against (Y/n)'s chest. The daughter of Poseidon doesn't object, and Piper closes her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

. . .

Piper tumbles through the sky. Far below, she sees city lights glimmering in the early dawn, and several hundred yards away, the body of the bronze dragon spinning out of control, its wings limp, fire flickering in its mouth like a wired lightbulb.

A body shoots past her — Leo, screaming and frantically grabbing at the clouds. "Not coooooool!"

She tries to call out him, but he is already too far below.

Somewhere above her, Jason yells, "Piper, level out! Extend your arms and legs!"

It was hard to control her fear, but she does what he said and regains some balance. She falls spread-eagle like a skydiver, the wind underneath her like a solid block of ice. Then Jason is there, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"We have to get (Y/n) and Leo!" she shouts.

Their fall slows as Jason controls the winds, but they still lurch up and down like the winds didn't want to cooperate.

"Gonna get rough," Jason warns. "Hold on!"

And then, thump! They slam into another warm body – Leo, still wriggling and cursing.

"Stop fighting!" Jason says. "It's me!"

"My dragon!" Leo yells. "You gotta save Festus!

Jason's already struggling to keep the three of them aloft, and Piper knows there is no way he could help a fifty-ton metal dragon.

There is a splash below them in the nearby lake, and then there's an explosion. A fireball rolls into the sky from behind a warehouse complex.

Jason's face reddens with strain as he tries to maintain an air cushion beneath them, all the while looking for (Y/n) below them. Rather than free-falling, intermittent slow-downs are the best that Jason can manage. It feels to Piper as though they were bouncing down a giant staircase, a hundred feet at a time.

As they wobble and zigzag, Piper can make out details of the factory complex below – warehouses, smokestacks, barbed wire fences, parking lots lined with snow-covered vehicles, and a lake. They are still high enough so that hitting the ground would flatten them into roadkill – or skykill – when Jason groans, "I can't –"

And they drop like stones.

They hit the roof of the largest warehouse and crash through into darkness.

Unfortunately, Piper tries to land on her feet. Her feet didn't like that. Pain flares in her left ankle as she crumples against a cold metal surface.

For a few seconds, she isn't conscious of anything but pain – pain so bad that her ears ring and her vision goes red.

Then she hears Jason's voice somewhere below, echoing through the building. "Piper! (Y/n)!"

"Ow, bro!" Leo groans. "That's my back! I'm not a sofa! Piper, where'd you go? (Y/n)?"

"Here," Piper manages, and she realizes she can't hear (Y/n)'s response. She hears shuffling and grunting, and then feet pounding on metal stairs. 

Word Count: 6876 words

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