#30 years ago…he found out the truth on his own

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) II ch. II

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 5,044

Warnings: 8-year age gap, flashbacks of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, mentions of therapy, kookie trying to be a good husband, cute coupley stuff that idk anyone will like but 🥺 👉👈, jk says cawk , idk why this is a warning

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: Hi guys! I'm back! I thought I'd start off with a little flashback and then diving back into the story. Also, big thing–I decided not to make jk a complete butt. I don't want this story to be about "jk finally coming around after treating oc like garbage for wanting a kid". It's more of a we'll figure-it-out-together kinda thing though there will be bumps in the road. Anyway, enjoy 🥰

<< ch.I ༓ ch. III >> | series masterlist

To say falling in love with Jungkook was an effortless, butterflies-in-your-tummy, love-at-first-sight, you-know-it-when-you-see-it sort of affair is far from the truth. In actuality, you and Jungkook met on a very normal basis and had very normal rapport…well, somewhat normal.

Jungkook was your economics professor in grad school and you were merely one out of eighty of his students during the first semester. Surely you'd be walking out with no more than a barely scrimmaged 'A' and remnants of stupid economics jokes he and his colleagues found slapstick funny.

Jungkook always had an interesting sense of humor.

Bottom line? Your life wasn't a drama and you certainly didn't plan on living like it was–especially when your parents were on your tail, making sure their hard-earned money was well spent.

As if being bonked on the head by something called fate, however, Jungkook sent you away with far more than odd jokes and good grades.

Hey, hindsight is 20/20.

four years ago

“Oh, good morning.” A soft, yet hoarse voice strides past you. You view the man, estimating that he be in his early 30s though could easily pass for 25 by his youthful appearance. His hair is black, a bit shaggy but well-kept nonetheless. Silver piercings dangle from his ears and a pair of rectangular glasses rest on his perfectly symmetrical face. This is your professor?

Undoubtedly, what mesmerizes you the most is the striking arm tattoo partially displayed under the rolled-up sleeves of his dress shirt. You remember temporarily considering tattoo artistry in high school but studio arts appealed to you more.

Not like you got to do either though, seeing as you’ve been stuck in econ for the fifth year in a row. You’re parents insisted you get your master’s immediately after undergrad…how wonderful for you.

But back to the man at the front of the room. You weren’t expecting someone so hip and attractive–very, very attractive.

Your stomach churns but you brush the feeling away.

He's your professor for god sake.

The man, coincidentally your professor, quirks a small smile your way and sets his bag on the podium at the front. “Didn’t expect anyone to be here for another twenty minutes.”

“I just got out of another class a couple of rooms down so I’m here early.” You straighten in your seat and return a smile of your own. “It’s nice to meet you Dr. Jeon. I’m Y/N.” You start bouncing your leg up and down, clicking the pen in your hand. Please be right, please be right, you chant silently, hoping you remembered the name correctly.

Jungkook notices your slightly restless state but he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Just to be sure, you are here for ECON 602 right? Macroeconomic Theory?” He unzips his bag and sets his laptop on the podium. Making brief eye contact, he catches sight of the piece of paper directly below your nose. “That’s a beautiful sketch.”

You glance down, moving the paper to the side as if embarrassed. Not many people see your work beyond close friends, and even then you like to keep it to yourself. “Yes, absolutely,” you reply. “ECON 602, 12:15 pm. And thanks, I draw as a hobby.”

Your professor hums, nodding as he connects the HDMI cable to his laptop and lowers the presentation board.“ Dr. Kim is going to be quite jealous when he hears such artistic talent is in my economics class.” He lets out a slight chuckle. “You don’t mind if I tell him, do you? A little competition we have going on.”

You snort at the comment.

Dr. Kim Taehyung was the art department’s most talked about professor. Everyone knew him for his extremely unique perspective, classy personality, as well as his breathtaking artwork. You’ve passed him in the hallways a number of times, wishing you could study under him and dare you say, in more ways than one.

“I don’t mind.” You shake your head. “Are you and Dr. Kim close?” Maybe you shouldn’t be this curious but it was now fifteen minutes until the start of class and no one else had shown. What else were you going to fill time with? Awkward silence while you watch your professor fumble and tap on his keyboard?

“We were colleagues if you can believe that.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Only two years ahead of me in undergrad. When I first started teaching here I had no idea he was here too. But you know what they say __, it’s a small world.”

“Smaller,” you retort. “I feel like everywhere I go I run into someone I’ve known or seen at some point in my life. You just never really know I guess.” When you first entered university, you were counting your lucky stars that most of your high school peers were attending college nearby your hometown. You on the other hand were a good five to six hours from home. Last you checked, however, half of those peers were now getting married or on their second kid. Crazy how some people’s lives change on a dime.

You watch as your professor shuffles a few sheets of paper in his hands, scanning them briefly. “I can relate to that,” he mutters. “Pretty sure we haven’t met before though. Could be a bigger world than we think. Now where’s everyone else? Didn’t all drop last minute did they?” The man lifts his head, flashing a big gorgeous grin. His eyes are playful and dance with mirth.“Not that I would mind if it were just you and I this whole semester.“

“uh–“ is embarrassingly, all you say. He isn’t implying anything by that right? Oh god __, don’t be stupid. As you've established, this isn’t a romance novel and you’re most definitely not the main character.

“You seem attentive is what I mean,” the man says, breaking you out of your daze. “And beyond punctual. Two qualities that I hold in high esteem.” You’d say he had a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth but it was likely an illusion. Your professor has bigger fish to fry than worry about any possible scenarios you’ve concocted in your silly head.

Still, in a moment of sheer thoughtlessness, you say something you regret being unable to retract. “Thank you, I like you too.” As soon as the words fly out you feel the need to run out and bang your head against the wall. Thinking on your feet wasn’t your specialty.

Little to your knowledge, Jungkook finds your mannerisms cute and stifles the temptation to tease. You’re his student, after all, a little professionally please, he repeats to himself.

“So are you from here?” Jungkook asks, choosing to switch the topic before both of you get swallowed into a messy situation.

You shake your head in denial. “I live here temporarily but I grew up about five hours north of here. My parents are still there.”

“Ah, well that’s a bit away. I imagine you miss them?”

You ponder the question for a second, eyes rolling up in contemplation. “From time to time.” Jungkook gives a knowing look. He’s had his share of familial drama and the need for space.

“I understand,” he says. “I grew up ten hours south myself.”

“Wow, that’s…far.” You’re surprised by the distance and can’t imagine it’s an easy commute. You wonder how long he’s been here and more so, if he’s here alone.

“Yeah.” He rests his palms on the edge of the podium, leaning on them gently. The protruding veins in his forearms catch your attention but you pry yourself from lingering. After what you said earlier, the last thing you want is for Dr. Jeon to think you're coming on to him. “Gets a little quiet sometimes but I’ve learned to live with it.”

As if immune to learning from your mistakes you blurt exactly what’s in your head.“So you’re not–“

“Married? Dating? Seeing someone?” Jungkook finishes your sentence like it’s nothing he hasn’t done tenfold times before. “No. I’m not.”

You give a small “Ah,” nodding in understanding before another classmate walks in, putting an abrupt end to the conversation. Jungkook is quick to greet the young man who’s joined but he’s certain he won’t be forgetting your name anytime soon.

present

You tilt your head back, allowing beads of hot water to run down your bare skin. The sound of steady pattering combined with heavy steam relaxes your muscles.

You can't believe you actually told him.

Blurting out to Jungkook that you wanted a baby in the middle of a fight is not how you intended to open up to your husband. But everything escalated so fast that it just came out.

You think back to last night’s events.

Once the movie's credit scenes appear Jungkook feels your eyes burn through him from your lounged position. "You're making that face again," he says.

"There's no face."

"Look," Jungkook cuts shortly. "Will you just tell me so we can deal with it?!"

"Just deal with it? Like it's some kind of nuisance of an issue that needs treatment?" You jump up from the couch and head to your bedroom in a fury, your husband hot on your trail.

"I don't mean to be pissing you off, sweetheart but I know something's up." He follows you into the bathroom, watching you reach for your toothbrush. "Can you please slow down and talk to me?" He grabs the toothpaste before you can, forcing you to stop in your tracks.

"I–I want…I want to be a mom. I want a baby."

"A baby? What do you mean you want a baby?" You see the panic settling in his eyes. Jungkook takes you into his arms, his thumb wipes off some of your tears. "Honey, I'm sorry I didn't know. When you came home from the park I didn't realize that little boy meant so much to you."

You try blinking back your tears but they keep running down your face. He's being gentle with you and you appreciate that but his choice of words tells you his answer is no. It's quiet, subtle, and cuts like a knife.

You break away from him to splash cold water on your face. The coolness calms your nerves. “He didn’t. Never–never mind what I said, sorry. I’m tired and I’m probably not thinking straight.”

It was a blatant lie but just look at your situation. Married for two years, still on birth control, and had no plans to change that. Suddenly one party diverts from the plan fully aware that the other is perfectly comfortable with the current plan.

Yes, you hoped he'd have a slightly better reaction but you don't blame him for his stunned look.

Plus, did you even have enough time to realize what you were saying? Feeling? It could easily be written off that you were simply impulsive, emotionally vulnerable, and so on with the track record you had regarding kids and parenting.

You sigh, bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

Not much else happened after the fight. Jungkook apologized again with his arms wrapped around your waist. He snuggled his nose in the crook of your neck and kissed your cheek too.

It was the usual, it felt familiar and warm but the pang in your head put a roadblock to that. No marriage is perfect. You know that. But you have a feeling you and Jungkook are headed for a steep valley, both on opposing sides.

"Hi.” You’re taken out of your thoughts when you hear the shower door pop open. Your husband steps in, with messy hair and half-open lids. Evidently, still sleepy.

You spare him a glance and quickly reach for your body wash on the shelf. “Hi,” you reply back, voice monotone.

Jungkook moves closer behind you and curves an arm around you. He grabs the bottle out of your hand and squirts some of the soap into his palm. “How did you sleep?”

A small shiver runs up your spine when his cool hand rubs circles against your upper back and shoulder. It still feels nice, you admit. You see some of the soap drip down and hit the shower floor.

“I slept okay. You?”

“I’m about the same.” Jungkook moves his hand a little lower, making sure to cover your whole backside. “I’m really sorry about how I handled things last night. What I said and how I said it was inexcusable.”

“Please, Jungkook you don’t have to keep apologizing about it. I know…and I’m sorry I spurred it on you so suddenly. It’s not how I wanted you to find out.” if at all, you add to yourself.

“Is it still true?” he asks, stopping his movements. “Do you really want to start a family?”

You feel queasy all over again. His tone is serious and if you turn around you’ll likely see the fire in his eyes. So you remain in your position, facing towards the shower head.

“I don’t know…” you finally say after thirty seconds of eerie silence. “But I think I do, I really do. Seeing our friends and other people our age have kids makes me wonder if we’d ever have that. I can’t explain why right now. I know it’s unexpected after we’ve been living a sort of way for so long.” After another pause you continue. “But I know it’s not a mutual thing and that’s…okay.”

“Sweetheart, even if we were to have kids…where would we find the time? The school year’s starting soon and I’m gonna be running ragged at the university next week. You know my schedule. I teach Monday through Friday, leaving at 7:15 am and returning around 4 p.m. You leave for work a little later in the morning but get back at 5 p.m. All our week consists of will be eating a quick dinner together, then I have to squirrel away to my office for the night to review class notes and grade stacks of assignments.”

Though you’re aware of how crazy busy Jungkook gets during the school year, you’re not foolish enough to believe that is the root of his argument.

“Maybe you’re right that we don’t have much time now but Jungkook, we can figure it out. You only teach 9 months out of the year and I can–I can stay at home or we can hire a nanny. And we don’t have to do it right away but–“

“__.” Jungkook turns you around so you’re looking eye to eye. He hesitates to say his next words, fearing a replay of yesterday. But he can’t bring himself to pretend with you. Not on something this serious. “I understand and I want more than anything to tell you I want the same, but I can't lie to you. Being a father, and having a kid, I think it’s wonderful but I just never saw that for myself. I’m so sorry I–”

Your heart concaves into your chest. You absolutely want him to be honest but it pains you to hear. Where do you go from here?

Slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck. Jungkook jolts a bit, surprised by your sudden gesture but welcomes the embrace.

“It’s okay Jungkook.” You settle your head into his shoulder, simply wanting to be close. One tear spills out, then another. “It’s okay.”

“No, look at me __. You didn’t let me finish.” You lift your head from his shoulder. Jungkook strokes your back soothingly before continuing. “If this is what you want, then I’m not going to stand here and be the asshole husband that just dismisses it. But this is a big step.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Don’t say what I think you are. Jungkook you don’t have to do anything.”

“I’m not saying I change my mind.” Of course, that would be unrealistic, you talk yourself through, preparing for his next words. “However, I am–I am willing to seriously consider this whole thing, babies, diapers, strollers, all of it. But I need you to be sure that this is what you want. And the only way I think that can happen is if we start this slow. Sounds like I’m making some sappy speech huh?”

Jungkook cracks a faint smile.

You look like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop or for him to yell psyche and flick your forehead or something.

But none of that happens.

Instead, Jungkook unwraps one of your arms from around your neck, places a light kiss on your knuckles, and stares deep into your eyes as if making a promise. “I know this isn’t exactly heaven to your ears but I’m just trying to say, let’s not rush to a decision yet, okay? All of this did just get revealed yesterday and I think it’d be unfair to both of us if we scurry past it without thinking.”

Shocked. You’re utterly shocked. You were expecting him to give you a flat-out no or attempt to cover up the issue somehow. While, this isn’t your ideal outcome, if Jungkook is willing to take this seriously, no bullshit necessary, then so are you.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You smile at him, feeling a tad lighter than you did before. Your heart beats again, slow and steady. “I love you.”

“I love you more than anything __. I married you and I intend to keep it that way.” Jungkook sneaks a wink and you press a kiss to his lips.

“Hey,” you pipe up. “It’s Sunday isn’t it?”

Jungkook nods in confusion. “It is..?”

“You have somewhere to be this morning don’t you?” You wait a moment before an oh-shit expression forms on Jungkook’s face.

As you remember your husband was supposed to be at some fancy gold club today. Like Jimin, a certain Kim Taehyung had his weekly “thing” too. Being close friends, Jungkook was supposed to be there, along with Hoseok.

“‘You're so right. 'M sorry honey I gotta go. They’re gonna kill me." Jungkook gives you one last kiss before slipping out of the shower. "I’ll be back for dinner.”

“Jungkook! Where the fuck have you been? We tried calling you!” Taehyung is the first to speak as soon as he catches sight of the younger man. He has his usual blush pink polo shirt on paired with well-pressed beige shorts.

He looks a little too handsome for golf.

Jungkook’s secretly glad his wife stayed home this time, as he’s fully aware of her mini crush on Taehyung in school. When she first found out they were colleagues he could tell she had borderline stars in her eyes.

“Sorry sorry,” Jungkook says. “I was doing stuff and time escaped me. Plus, I didn’t have my phone near me for a bit. But I’m here now, so let’s get going!” Jungkook walks in front of the two men, heading for the first stage of the golf course. “You guys coming?” He turns around and lifts both arms up.

Taehyung and Hoseok exchange looks before following his lead. It’s unlike Jungkook to be this eager for golf. In fact, he hates golf. And his explanation is a bit…questionable.

As much as Hoseok is a friend, he is also just as much of a psychologist who can't stop himself from practicing his craft when given the chance. “You doing alright?” Hoseok waits for Jungkook to answer, one hand clings around the top of his golf club while the other settles around his hip. "Haven't seen you since Jimin's last dinner.”

"Yeah, I'm good," Jungkook barely replies, watching Taehyung practice and few swings before taking the shot. Like a prodigy, it sinks right in. "Hole in one again man? I thought you painted."

Taehyung glances over his shoulder with a smug expression, cocky smirk, and sunglasses behind his head. "Don't be too jealous of hyung, Jungkookie."

"Fuck off Tae," Jungkook quips back. "I'm not 22 anymore. I have a good job, nice house, and a gorgeous wife waiting for me at home. What do you have? A bunch of golf balls in your pants.”

Hmm, a little more defensive than usual, Hoseok notes. And guarded too, something’s up.

"About that wife of yours Kook," Hoseok drawls. "How she doing?" Jungkook turns towards the man, slight distaste on his face.

“Uh, she’s fine. Thanks for asking. Also, I know what you’re doing and I’m not in the mood.”

"Ah Jungkook, you act like I'm being so malicious.” Smiling, Hoseok continues. “Can't I care about my friend of ten years without such accusations?"

Jungkook sighs and kicks the grass. Hoseok has been one of his closest friends for a long time so if there's anyone worth talking to about his current situation and who'd understand, I'd be him. "Well, I’m not saying much right now but.....__ recently told me she wants a baby. I’m still–I'm having trouble processing it. But I’m trying.”

Hoseok throws a hand behind the younger's shoulder. “That’s big news Jungkook and it’s completely fine that you’re still working through it. Don’t feel like you have to speed up the process either. I’ve known you both long enough to know that parenting hasn’t really been in the cards until now so I’m surprised myself.”

“I think she’s still a little unsure, but something happened the other day and it struck a cord inside her. She wants a family and,” Jungkook steps to the side, and Hoseok's hand slips from his shoulder. “I wish I could tell her I want it too. But I can't lie to her like that. I also don’t want her to bury that desire for my sake, so I told her we could consider it. I don’t know man, I feel like I’m trying to do the right thing but I don’t know if I can do this. Will I ever change my mind? I want to, for her.”

Hoseok looks at his friend with soft eyes, compassion in them. “Unfortunately, this is not something you can foresee nor force. At least not this early. But you’re definitely doing the right thing by not brushing her off. As real as your feelings are about not wanting a child right now, so are __'s feelings. It’s best you listen to both sides.”

Jungkook tousles his hair around. “I just–fuck.”

Hoseok doesn’t need further explanation to understand Jungkook’s predicament. He’s frustrated, blames himself, and is struggling to come to terms with reality. The unknown scares him and he doesn’t want to lose control of what little he has. “I’m sorry, Kook…it’s a heavy load. Why don't you come in for a session sometime? I think this might be something worth talking through."

“You mean therapy? I don't know, I’m about to have a pretty tight with school starting.”

"One hour, forty minutes at least," Hoseok insists. "Why not try it once and if you don't like it, you don't have to do it again. I love you both and as a friend, I want to be here for you. Beats standing around and watching Taehyung kick our ass at golf. Just think about it and let me know. As I said, I'm always here for you bro."

Jungkook nods and reaches a hand out to gently squeeze Hoseok's shoulder. "I'll think about it. Thanks."

"Hey!" Taehyung waves from afar. "What you guys doing still up there? I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes! Don’t forget that last place buys lunch.”

“He’s referring to you Kook.” Hoseok chuckles, slaps Jungkook on the back, and walks down the golf course toward Taehyung. “You suck at golf.”

Jungkook grunts, following close behind. If this were a benching competition he’d be taking home the whole damn meal.

With Jungkook still gone doing who knows what with his buddies you decide to blast your very wide array of music. It’s a good thing you and Jungkook live in your own house or else your poor neighbors would be knocking down the door with the landlord by now. Yes, that may or may not have happened once with you were in college.

Along with the music you stick true to your character and spread your art supplies on your drawing table. You had your own mini studio, thanks to your wonderful relator who helped find you the house. You reach for a pencil, spinning it between your fingers. Maybe you should finish the drawing of the park’s pond.

Mm, you don’t really feel like packing all your supplies and driving over right now.

Deciding to save it for another day, you ponder ideas of what to do instead. Should you try out your new watercolors? You bought them last week and while you weren’t exactly in low supply, if your husband can have a hundred scented candles you can have your paints.

bling–

You snatch your phone hearing the notification bell.

Jungkook: the rest of your morning going well? [sent at 11:03 a.m]

You smile faintly and type out a reply. Sweet to check in you suppose.

__: Fine. How are the guys? [sent at 11:04 a.m]

Jungkook: Whooping my ass but it’s alright. [sent at 11:07 a.m]

Good, you smirk. Jungkook is awful at golf. And he can stand to lose at something like the rest of you.

__: When are you coming home? [sent at 11:10 a.m]

Jungkook: Looking to wrap things up around 4 pm. I think we’re having a late lunch. Miss you. [sent at 11:13 a.m]

__: Okay, sounds good because I was thinking maybe we could go for ice cream when you get back. After dinner? miss you too [sent at 11:14 a.m]

You stare at the screen, waiting for a reply.

One minute goes by…

Two minutes…

Three…

Jungkook: Okay, sounds amazing. But why not before dinner? The place we like closes early on Sundays. I love you! [sent at 11:17 a.m]

Oh shoot, that’s right. You and Junkook have gone to the same ice cream shake since you first started dating. The couple who run it are super sweet, only a decade older. How could you forget?

__: I’m a dummy, yes we’ll go before dinner. I love you too [sent at 11:18 a.m]

Jungkook: Noo, you’re not a dummy! But okay, I’ll see you soon! [sent at 11:19 a.m]

Rejuvenated, you turn off your phone, jump off your art stool and crank the current song up–Runaway by Bon Jovi. Let’s see, you think, tearing a piece of watercolor paper from your drawing pad, what to do.

When the idea strikes you prepare water, paintbrushes, your palette, and anything else you may need for the next five hours give or take. You snatch your phone again and scroll through your photo gallery, hoping to get a good reference photo.

Your best friend’s birthday was two weeks away and she’s been subtly hinting for a painting of her, her fiancee’, and her dog Bear. As her closest friend and well-practiced artist, you think it is best to appease her request.

Jungkook comes home at 4 pm on the dot. Not a minute later. He looks happy, you conclude. Genuinely happy. It looks good on him.

“__!” Jungkook runs through the front door and lifts you up in his arms. He spins you around and you place your hands on his shoulders. This is so unexpected but nice.

“Jungkook,” you struggle to catch your breath. “What’s going on?”

“I just love coming home to you.” He places you back down and grabs your wrist. “Come on, I wanna stuff you full with ice cream.”

“That sounds so weird,” you laugh.

“Why?” Jungkook opens the front door, ushering you to go ahead of him.

“Because…it sounds like you want to stuff me. Like in a weird way.”

“Woman, that cleared nothing up for me.” You hop into the car with stupid grins on your face. You don’t even know what you mean let alone having to explain to your husband. What can you say, Jungkook makes you a little braindead.

“I just mean that you wanting to stuff me with ice cream sounds like the witch from Hanzel and Gretel. You wanna fatten me up to eat me. Or taxidermy,….or Build a Bear.”

“What the fuck honey,” Jungkook curses, backing out of your drive. “Did you get into something funky while I was gone?”

“No what–ugh never mind.” You stare out the window, arms crossed and biting back the need to giggle uncontrollably. Why were you so giddy right now?

Jungkook glances over with amusement. He knows you’re inches away from balling over with laughter. “You know what honey?”

“Hmm?”

“I think instead of stuffing you full of ice cream, I’m gonna stuff you full with something just as good.”

“Don’t say it Kook, don’t. I’m going to bust a gut.” You beg fully aware he’s not about to back down.

“My fucking cawk,” he says, making sure to exaggerate the last part.

You throw a hand over your mouth, tears well up in your eyes and this time, they’re not sad ones.

You pull up at the small, but charming ice cream stand at around 4:20 pm. It’s a decent crowd tonight.

You and Jungkook get out of the car with laced hands. You’ve managed to calm down now, thankfully. As you make your way to the line a small voice catches both your attention.

“Appa!” A little girl with blue ribbons in her hair runs past you. She looks between eight to ten years old. You and Jungkook follow her movement as she leaps up into her father’s arms.

You smile at the interaction. Her father kisses her cheek and chuckles as she shows him her ribbons. She looks like she’s telling a very eventful story.

Beside you, Jungkook stiffens. His eyes set on the pair but you’re unsure what he’s thinking. “Kook?” you say, but he doesn’t respond. You shake his hand, the one laced in yours, but still no response. It’s when you step in front of his view that you get him back.

“Hey,” you say. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook blinks at you and shakes his head a bit. “I’m good, sorry. Not sure what happened there. Must be a bit out of it today. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

A/N: I like this series vv much...thank you to anyone reading :) Lmk your thoughts and if you wanna be tagged comment or send me an ask!

Taglist:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#btshoneyhive #bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

10:30 ー NANAMI KENTO. and the dark awaits us all around the corner; but here in our place, we have for the day, can we stay a while and listen for heaven?

“I can feel you looking at me.”

“How do you know? Your eyes are closed.”

A brown eye opens to see you, unsurprisingly, resting your chin on your palm. Guilty as charged, you’ve been watching him. “I can’t truly enjoy our joint day off if I don’t look at you lovingly before you wake up,” you grin and despite your boyfriend’s best efforts, he chuckles lightly. “It’s Sunday,” you remind him unnecessarily with a giggle. “The world works differently on Sundays even if you’re a big bad jujutsu sorcerer with a world record of black flashes.”

“I regret letting you and Gojou meet,” Kento’s tired sigh only makes even more laughter bubble from your lips. You don’t know many people from the sorcerer life Kento told you about, but Satoru is a riot. Any choice of confections and the white-haired man will quickly divulge all the stories he has about Kento’s teenage years. Part of you is certain he’d do that even if sweet treats weren’t on the table though. “Have you been up long?”

You shake your head before falling back onto your side, “not too long." It's rare Kento has time to himself from his work as a sorcerer. It's complicated but you can understand the gist of it. Curses don't stop and thus, neither can he. You'll treasure the time he does have, at least.

You have been ever since he told you the truth about his job. What being with him would entail. He said it wouldn't be fair to keep it from you began getting serious.

It's only a matter of time before Kento retires and he can rest as much as he deserves. Malaysia. We should go on a trip soon. He's always wanted to go.

A comfortable silence falls over your room as you look at each other with a pair of matching smiles.

"Good morning," the blond's voice rumbles with a tired but satisfied hum. He reaches out a hand and you meet it halfway.

You kiss the back of his knuckles before pressing your lips to the tips of his fingers. "Morning," you whisper before holding his hand to your chest and twining your fingers.

You close your eyes and lean into his warmth. I never knew I could love somebody this much. The world is cold and cruel but Nanami Kento is proof that, despite that fact, there is still warmth and beauty to be found in it. "Let's just stay in bed today."

"And abandon our plans for brunch?"

"Yes," you say resolutely. There's no where you'd rather be than at home with your boyfriend.

Kento's thumb brushes the side of your fingers, "I normally wouldn't fight against staying in but it would be rude to the employees if we didn't go in for the reservation."

"Okay, okay," you groan. This is what happens when you make reservations and you're not selfish enough to inconvenience restaurant staff. "You take your shower fir-"

When you open your eyes, Kento is gone and the vibrant color and warmth of your room went with him.

The bed feels too large for one person.

Your hand isn't covered by another a few sizes larger than your own; it isn't engulfed in a palm that is a strange dichotomy of rough and soft. Instead your hand is in the open and bare, save for the ring gracing one of your fingers.

Finding it was an accident during a manic cleaning episode a few days prior. Kento had it hidden away neatly in a cupboard you almost always forgot you had.

Ah.

Reality sets in and your giddy smile drops.

Right.

1 WEEK AGO. OCTOBER 31, 2018 ; 23:15 ーThat's the time Itadori Yuuji tells you three words that destroy the center of your universe.

“Nanami is dead.”

Yuuji can’t look you in the eye when he tells you this, he can't bring himself to look. His fists shake at his side, but he forces himself to stay still awaiting your reaction. You're quietー too quiet. He closes his eyes to brace himself for whatever your reaction will be.

"It's my fault. I'm sorry. I couldn't..."

Will you yell at him?

Will you rightfully bring your hands down to strike him?

Or will you merely sob and have it haunt him for the rest of his days?

Nanami's gone and there's nothing of him to bring back for you.

"You've got it from here."

The least Yuuji can do is tell you what happened to the man that would never return home to you. Not even in pieces. There are so many bodies that can't be identified. So many people who will never go home to their families. Families that will never see their loved ones again.

He can't tell all of themー but Yuuji can at least tell you.

There's movement in front of him and Yuuji welcomes however your emotions have chosen to manifest. Yet when he feels your arms wrap around him, his eyes jolt wide open. "He saved you, didn't he?" Your voice is soft, melancholic. Sadness clings to your tone but he can't mistake the blithe and relief mixed in it.

"He saved you, didn't he?"

"I-" Yuuji's cracked lips feel even drier. "But I-"

"Don't ever apologize to me for living," it's the angriest you've sound since he stepped foot in your house and even then it's a delicate anger. "Kento saved you because he believed in you, I believe in you too. There's nothing for me to forgive."

The warm tones of the apartment you once shared with one of the greatest individuals Yuuji's ever known is beginning to blur. "I don't know what I'm fighting for anymore. I can't ever protect anyone that I want to save. Nanami should be here-"

At those words, you hug him even tighter. "I know that man better than anyone," you tell him firmly with that knowing tone all adults possess. "Kento didn't regret anything and I know he would do it all over again. I'm happy and blessed that I was able to fall in love with someone with such a big heart. So trust me when I tell you that Kento adored you and he would happy you're alive. I'm happy your alive. It's the job of us adults to worry about you troublemakers. So please, don't blame yourself. Kento would want you to hear that."

When the tears spill and the sobs rack his body, Yuuji feels resentment more than grief. All the while you hugged him tightly, rubbing circles into his back. You who should be crying right now if anything. You who should be angry at him.

He wants you to be angry at him.

"Why can't you just be mad at me?" Yuuji whimpers into the crook of your neck.

You kiss the side of his head despite how undoubtedly gross it must be from the sweat and blood and dirt its collected over the night. "Because I love you, you silly boy. Me and Kento."

That's what breaks him the most.

.

“Are you sure you don't want to spend the night?" Your expression is one of concern as you both stand at the door. "I can whip up something while you're in the bath. I'm sure I can find something of Kento's that you can fit."

Yuuji's grin is weak but he shakes his head, "it's okay. I've got a ride back to the school. They're probably sick of waiting for me."

With a smile and a final exchange of farewells, you close the door with a sigh. Yuuji is a strong kid, you know that much. Still that doesn’t stop you from worrying about him. I hope he takes everything I said to heart. Even just a little, bit by bit, until the boy is able to believe your words fully. You know the man you love, Kento wouldn’t have regretted anything.

I should have tried a little harder to convince him to stay for at least a shower and dinner. That driver could have waited a few more minutes. Or I could have invited them in to eat as well. You press your forehead against the door, welcoming the coolness on your skin. You’ll check on Yuuji tomorrow you think as silence truly settles over your apartment.

It's in that silence that you finally notice the shaking of your hands. No they've been shaking the entire time. You're thankful Yuuji was too distraught to notice.

He's gone, that's all that had been racing through your mind when those three words left Yuuji's lips.

I can’t let this poor boy see me cry.

It wouldn't have been fair to him. He blamed himself enough, you could see the self-hatred all over his face.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

It’s simultaneously a relief you can’t hear Yuuji’s footsteps anymore as much as it fills you with further dread.

Kento isn’t coming home.

Your chest heaves dryly as quiet gasps slip from your lips and your knees buckle.

He's gone.

He's gone.

He'sgonehe'sgonehe'sgonehe'sgoneー

Your throat clenches as a sob finally escapes your throat.

"Kento..."

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #timestamp #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #allie and i talked about it and here i am now

[bugmomwrites]

Weary

Dr Flug x Reader

Stealing my sister’s bf’s HBO password is the second best thing I’ve done this week. Whipping up a solid drabble in 30 minutes and refining it into a whole oneshot in the same night takes first place.

There’s like, one innuendo towards the end but everything else is straight up fluff. Story came to me after reading yet another shady thing a certain airline I won’t name did, but it sounds like “we ain’t going”. I am changing the names so I don’t end up dead in a van somewhere, but if you know you know ;)

—•• •—• ••—• •—•• ••— ——•

“…And then what happened?”, Flug yawns, looking up at you through his goggles. You smile gently, kissing the front of the bag where his forehead would be.

“Well, according to some sources…the former production and safety manager’s exact words were ‘if anything happens, I didn’t do it myself’,” you respond, reading the article off your phone. Using the same soft voice you use when you read picture books to a sleepy 505, except it was a news article turned Wikipedia rabbit hole.

You two had gone from listening to him explain the differences between a 767 and an Airvan, to him resting his bagged head in your lap as you click on various entries and articles, bouncing information back and forth. The person, a known whistleblower who had retired from the controversial airline a few years ago, had tried many a time to draw attention to the company’s shady practices. For him to die so suddenly, especially as more inside secrets came to light, was too fishy for the public to ignore.

“I’m no detective, but…”

“Assassination?”, you finished for him, raising a brow. The two of you exchanged knowing looks.

“Does the Dreamweaver have flexible wings?”, he grumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist to bury his head further into your tummy. It tickles, but you try not to laugh lest you disturb his rare peace. Moments like these didn’t happen often, and you knew if any of the others were to see you like this, Black Hat would tear you both a new one, and Demencia would never let you hear the end of it.

A few more minutes go by, occasionally filled in with fun facts about the company’s various other incidents that had made the news in the past. You click off of yet another one where a plane was literally falling apart mid-air, having to make an emergency landing in a massive blaze. That was enough internet for today, at this rate you’d never want to hop in a plane again. You carefully set your phone to the side after checking the time.

“If I were him, I wouldn’t have let them get me.”

“I know, Flug.”

“And I would have documented everything.”

“Mhm”, you rest a hand on his back, your own eyes growing heavy.

“I’d go down there and put them back together myself. I’d personally take all of their shitty scrap parts, and make a better airplane than any of those so called professionals,” he says disdainfully.

You smile as he heaves a long sigh, like the weight of the world rests upon his weary shoulders; which isn’t far from the truth, if the way Black Hat nags him and Demencia torments him on a regular basis is any indication. Not to mention raising a son/care bear/science experiment through it all. But even if it’s not quite the whole earth, at the very least it’s the whole company. Everybody ought to give him more credit, himself included.

“If anybody could do such a thing, I know it’d be you, Flug. You’ve always had a brilliant mind.” He hums softly at the praise, feeling quite chuffed to know that at least someone in the manor besides his own son appreciated him not just for all he does, but who he is.

It’s quiet again for a few moments as he drifts in and out of consciousness, your hand gently rubbing his back until he speaks up again a few minutes later.

“And I’ll make you my co-pilot.”

This takes you by surprise, the hand rubbing his back stopping briefly as you let the words settle over the two of you. Reading between the lines was something you found yourself doing almost as often as reading his expression through his paper bag, the man still not quite comfortable enough to outright say all the things he’d had bouncing around in his head to you just yet. Your hand resumes as you test the waters, stuck between delicate hope and fear of possibly scaring him off.

“I…don’t know how to fly a plane. Nor do I have a pilots license.”

“Me neither, but I’ll show you how to do it in the cockpit. I’ll make sure you have a smooth ride for your first time.”

A pregnant pause falls over the both of you, and your whole face heats up, mind processing his words only to take a nosedive into the gutter. You open your mouth to respond only to be met with quiet snores from below, Flug blissfully unaware of the effect of his words.

‘Looks like the week finally caught up to him’, you think. Odds are he might not remember something like that when he woke up, but you could tease him about it later on. For now, you stretch your arms over your head and attempt to make yourself as comfy as possible without disturbing him, sleep beginning to overtake you as well. You glance down once more to where he dozes peacefully for the first time in years, committing it to memory before joining him in slumber.

“Buenas noches, Flug.”

—•• •—• ••—• •—•• ••— ——•

#bug mom writes #dr flug x reader #dr flug #villainous #reader insert #villanos #Villianous x reader #505

[sweetandgentlecreature]

Friendly Fire

Author’s Note: Hello, again! I’d like to thank everyone who liked, commented, and shared my first little project. The love it received was overwhelming for a newbie to the fanfic scene, and I’m so grateful for the input and encouragement. This story takes place in the same timeline as my first installation, so if you haven’t had a chance to read Homeward Bound yet, you can find it here. Don’t worry, though! There won’t be a specific timeline to follow. The idea is to give little glimpses into an established relationship, so you’re not missing anything (yet!). We started with a reunion, so it only seems fair to take it back to where it all began. I can’t wait for everyone to meet the new woman in Sy’s life. Happy reading!  Summary: Last night, Syverson met the love of his life. If only he could remember it. Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female OC  Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol consumption and weapons, adult language, and (almost) implied smut. Sy is his own warning. I am an adult, and due to the nature of this content, all works created by me will be rated for those 18 years and older. Minors, DNI.

“Oh, fuck me,” Sy groaned to himself. He threw a heavy arm over his face and sighed, doing his best to block out the sun as it creeped in through the blinds, but resistance was futile. Stupidly optimistic birds chirped their early morning songs, each shrill call rattling around in his skull like an angry swarm of wasps, wild and pissed off. His body felt heavy, his joints ached, and his stomach churned. “I’m gettin’ too old fer this shit.” 

Sy could handle a little hangover. He’d done it before, and Lord know’s he’d do it again. In truth, he’d been burning the candle at both ends since he’d made it home. Sy hadn’t taken a leave since his first year in the military. His reasoning? 30 days go by too quick, no use in getting comfortable somewhere just to pack up and ship out again. This time though, he’d decided that he’d earned a bit of a break. That, and his mama was threatening to cut him out of the will if he didn’t show his face at least once this year. Not that he’d get much, of course; that wasn’t the principle of her empty threats. He knew it just as well as she did. She was starting to get up there in age, and time waits for no one. Especially not for Clayton Syverson. 

Groaning softly, he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, heavy limbs moving a little slower than usual this morning. He stretched and yawned, balling up a fist to rub the sleep from his bleary eyes. A thought crossed his mind as he worked to get those old bones moving again and he stopped dead in his tracks, hand still over his left eye and mouth still agape. “Wait…how the fuck did I make it home?”

Sy took stock of the room around him. At first glance, nothing seemed to be out of place. Everything was just as he’d left it. The tops of the dresser and chest of drawers were bare, as was the nightstand. The laundry basket that sat atop the trunk at the foot of the bed was still there, filled with neatly rolled t-shirts, socks, and skivvies. The only things that seemed to be out of sorts were his bed (since he hadn’t had the chance to make it yet), and his jeans that laid crumpled on the floor at his feet. “Weird,” he mused, and pushed himself to stand. Padding off to the bathroom for that blissful first piss of the day, he lifted the seat on the commode to relieve himself. Hold on. Lift the toilet seat? He hadn’t had to do that since he left home, nearly a decade ago. 

“What the fuck is goin’ on, now?” Must’ve been a visit from the toilet seat fairy, since he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had stepped foot into this old house. Sy could feel the hair on the back of his neck start to prickle up as he washed his hands. When his eyes found his reflection in the mirror above the sink, he had to talk himself down again. 

“Get a grip, dickhead. No one broke in just ta’ use the can.” Wandering back out to the bedroom, he’d almost made it out into the hallway, when he’d heard it. One more step, and he might’ve missed it. The soft creak of old floorboards below gave him another moment of pause. Sy held his breath as he listened intently for a moment, almost willing the house to groan again under the shift of weight. Nothing. A rush of wind left his chest as he sighed and shook his head. He swore himself off of corn liquor, never again, and took the stairs two at a time on his way down to raid the fridge for something to eat. “Hmm…somethin’ smells good. Is that–”  Bacon. That ain’t no toilet fairy down there. Someone’s here.

Soft, tranquil humming echoed down the hall. Whoever it was seemed to like Fleetwood Mac, as they aimlessly flipped slice after slice of pork products into his skillet. A loud pop of grease made him, and the intruder, flinch. “Oww! Shit!” Then the tap squeaked, followed by the sound of rushing water, and Sy thanked God that he hadn’t had time to fix it yet. Good. He knew this old farmhouse like the back of his hand, so he knew exactly where the stranger would be standing when he'd walk in. They’d have their back to him, and he’d have the upper hand. Reaching blindly into the armoire to his right, he drew the revolver from the false bottom of the drawer and peaked around the corner of the doorframe. His thumb hovered over the hammer, ready to cock it, when what he saw gave him pause. Who he saw, was more like it. 

“I know you.” The words came tumbling out before he could stop them. Her head snapped up from the sink as she turned towards the sound of his voice. She was just as startled as he was. 

“Well, I sure hoped you would.” 

Turning off the tap and reaching for a towel to dab at her scalded hand, she leaned against the counter like she owned the place. Her hair spilled down her shoulders and back in effortless, mahogany waves. The shirt she wore was stolen, and wrinkled from sleep. The logo was faded yet unmistakable, and the hem fell to about the middle of her sunkissed thigh. Why was she wearing his Skynard shirt? She watched as his eyes grew wide with realization, and it made her laugh. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, cowboy,” the intruder smirked, and lifted up the shirt to reveal a pair of cut off levis beneath it. “You sure tried like hell, but…nothing happened. How’s the head?” 

Visions of last night’s bonfire flashed through his mind. It felt like flipping through a stack of polaroids. Everything was blurry, all soft and fuzzy at the corners. One minute, he was leaning against the tailgate of his truck, nursing a beer and watching as his friends acted a’fool. The next, Johnny was passing around a quart of his homemade moonshine and calling him a pussy for trying to turn it down.  Damnit, Johnny. Sy recalled that the eyes that stared him down from across the room now were the same ones that gleamed at him in the warmth of the flames that flickered between them the night before. If only he could remember how they got there. 

As if to read his mind, she nodded as she spoke, returning to the stove just in time to salvage the last of the bacon. “You, uh…you went a little hard with that paint thinner Johnny had. I just wanted to make sure you made it home alright. Hope that’s okay.”  Sy licked his lips slowly as he processed what she was trying to say, then gave a short nod. He removed his finger from the trigger and tucked the gun away again as smoothly as possible. He didn’t want to spook her. She made him breakfast, after all. 

“Right. Thank ya, Miss.” Deeming it safe again, he crossed the threshold into the kitchen and watched as she turned off the flame beneath the cast iron on the stovetop. He felt out of place, like he should be doing something to help, so he crossed the room to grab the orange juice from the fridge. 

“Merrin,” she finished for him, then reiterated. “I’m Merrin. And you’re…Sy? That's what they call you, right?” For the first time all day, Sy cracked a crooked smile her way and pulled down two clean glasses from the cabinet beside the sink. 

“Yes ma’am, but my mama named me Clay.” 

“Clay. Got it.”

Breakfast was served, and the two strangers sat down to eat it. Merrin filled him in on what he missed from the night before. Johnny bet Sarah that she couldn’t shotgun a beer faster than he could. He lost. Petey and Melissa snuck off to the woods to skinny dip in the creek and came back with poison oak in some pretty intimate places. Roscoe passed out in the grass, and Luke and James had to carry him back to the house. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Saturday night in rural Texas. He asked about her, where she came from and what she was doing in his neck of the woods. She told him how she’d moved to town about six months ago, how she’d bought that cute little split level on the corner of Oak and Adams street. All Sy heard, though, was that he could’ve been sitting here with her six months ago. Maybe he outta come home more often.

–

“So,” he started, rinsing the suds from the face of his plate as he stood at the sink. They’d demolished that stack of bacon and eggs and were working to clean up after themselves. “How’d you end up in my shirt?”

Merrin smirked as she dried a glass and tucked it away again. “You don’t remember?” She was all too pleased to share this story. Sy laughed a deep, hearty chuckle that rattled loudly in his broad chest and shook his head. 

“Well…” she teased. “We’d been staring at each other most of the night. I’d been waiting for you to introduce yourself, but after a while, I just thought I must’a looked funny or somethin’.” 

“Mhm…” he hummed, his eyes never once leaving hers. He’d had a cup of coffee and a handful of Advil with his toast, so things were a little clearer now. He remembered watching her from afar as she chatted and giggled with her friends. He remembered thinking he’d want to remember the way she looked when she smiled his way. How he wanted to remember the way the light danced in her eyes when she laughed. She continued before he could ask her to carry on.

“When you finally got the courage to make a move, you decided that I looked a little thirsty. You grabbed me a beer, crossed the yard, tripped over a tree limb, and…poured it down my back.”

Sy winced. Surely she must be joking. One look at the smile on her face told him that she wasn’t, and he groaned. “Well shit, sugar. I’m real sorry. At least let me–”

“It’s already in the dryer. Don’t worry, big guy. You can pay me back when you take me out to dinner Friday night.” She gave a playful pat to his chest and grinned, brushing by him on her way to clear the rest of the table. Sy turned to follow her, his eyes grazing over the curve of her backside as she bent down to grab a napkin from the floor. He smiled, stacked the plate into the strainer and tossed a dish towel over his shoulder. 

“Sounds like a plan, darlin’.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill smut #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson fic #syverson #henry cavill characters #syverson fluff #syverson smut #cpt syverson

[hobisstar]

What are you hiding from love?| Yandere!Jk x Reader

Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one.

Warnings: Murder, Jungkook victim blaming ( like he will say i killed you because you are too stupid or whatever), Possessiveness, Mentions of Smut, Controlling, Locking up YN.

Taglist: vante 🫶🏾

A/N: This is made to be scary! That is all. I honestly dont like mixing smut with yandere because i read yandere fics to be spooked not horny lol.

5 years,

5 long years, of nothing but love and trust but more than that. Of course honesty, right?

Well on yn’s end there was definitely honesty. Jungkook’s? Not so much. You see there is this dark secret that jungkook has been hiding since they met 6 years ago…

It’s so deadly that it could possibly end their relationship if she found out about it.

She was so beautiful, so calm and gentle with him, he loved that side of her. Hes never seen her angry, sad, or even hurt. He never wants to see that side of her.

Jungkook doesn’t want to be the reason he sees that side of her.

Like now, There are siting on their shared bed, in their shared bedroom, in their shared apartment. Telling the truth, would risk him loosing all of this. He cant have that.

Jungkook looked at her then smiled, “ You are so beautiful you know?” He smiled, kissing the top of her head. YN blushed lightly staring up at him.

YN was quite literally everyone’s dream girl. Maybe that was the problem to Jungkook.

She was too good to everyone including himself and he hated. He knows she has a bad side but he never gets to see it so when he knows someone else gets to experience that mean side of her, he’s instantly jealous.

Who got his baby so pissed that she called you a dumb cunt? A fucking bitch? Who dares piss off his queen?

He will deal with them, with torture. Slow, painful, evil, demented, twisted death.

That was the other side of him he need to never be shown to his lover. It scared him that in any means possible she found out about his… hobby.

Nevertheless, Jungkook admires yn. How she can keep it together in every situation. Worships her to be exact.

“Stop calling be beautiful and get ready for work, handsome.” Yn responded while patting his back.

Right, work. Besides his hobby, he works at a flower shop while yn works at a cafe during the weekend. It’s enough to keep food on their table, to the rent, gas but also enough for simply living. Jungkook owns the flower shop so, he makes a whole lot of money.

There are so many things that yn doesn’t know about Jungkooks basically second life. How deadly it is.

jk: I miss you, baby~

I hate this fucking job

What are you doing?

Is bam stilling your attention from my text?

Babbbbbbbbyyyyy

yn

yn

yn

yn answer the phone

yn: sorry baby! I was feeding bam and fixing me something to eat!

I left my phone in the bathroom

yn: j, you just got to work babes 🤨, how do you miss me already?

You didn’t even clock in yet SILLY!

jk: I can’t miss you now?

Since when did you feel like that?

yn: Jeon I never once said you couldn’t, don’t say that.

jk: but you where implying that…

yn: Jeon Jungkook, clock in, put your phone down, see you when you get home 😕🩷

jk: smh, why that face? Why that reply?

He waited for a reply but he never received one, instead he heard someone clear his throat. He looked up and saw it was a woman probably in her 30s, staring at him like he was a snack.

“Hi! JK right? I came in here a few days ago looking for some flowers for my sisters birthday! I doubt you remember me but I want to come back to get some for myself!” The lady bit her lip and looked Jungkook up then down and Jungkook thought he could be sick.

He forced a half smile, “ Yeah yeah, I don’t remember you. You can get them for yourself, I don’t remember the flower you got last time.” He looked back down at the book he was original decorating with different flower pictures but got bored so he texted his lover.

“oh.. I was hoping you could pick them for me, fresh ones. I know you all do that-,” “ we do but not this early.” He interrupted still looking down, knowing he is hurting the poor woman’s feelings for not even recognizing her or remembering the flower or even falling for her shitty attempt to flirt.

“Okay, ah well I’ll go grab them and pay for them.” She said waiting for a respond or even a nod but she didn’t even get that. She walked over there and grabbed them then returning to the register. While she put her things on the counter, she saw a glimpse of Jungkooks Lock Screen which so happens to be a picture of yn and bam sleeping on the couch. “ Your sister?” She asked, hoping she was right. “ My wife actually and our son.” He scanned the flowers and roughly wrapped them. Roses, it’s be sad if he left a thorn on them. He turned around and slightly cut the stem but enough to keep the thorn nice and sharp.

Jungkook turned back around and handed them to her. As soon as the woman grabbed them she gasped, in pain he assumed. He pretended to be concerned but when he saw the palm of her hand leaking red liquid, he smiled on inside.

“ Oh! Im so sorry! I thought I got all the thorns, out…” he looked up at her then saying “ I guess one snuck away.” giving her the most creepiest blank face the woman has ever seen. She then realized he left the thorn on on purpose. He even sharpened it. “ I can fix that for you-,” “ No! I-It’s fine! Thank you so much! See you!” She some what screamed and hurried out the store frightened.

“ too bad..” Jungkook mumbled and chuckled continuing to put pictures in the decorating book.

“Bam! You just keep growing!” Yn said as she walked into the kitchen smiling while seeing him staring at the spare room. It’s Jungkooks office. “ What’s the matter? You know your dad doesn’t like you going in there.Not even me.” She stooped to his level and petted his back but only received a whimper in return.

Yn stared at the door. It’s taunting her with its unlocked door handle. She looked at the time, it was only 5 pm, Jungkook wouldn’t be home for a few more hours.

“ A peak wouldn’t hurt us right?” Looking at Bam and he barked as if he understood her.

Yn stood up and opened the door walking in. It was a nice little tidy office.

It would be comforting even if it wasn’t so cold. She has to remember to turn on the air for this room once exiting.

She turned around seeing if Bam followed her inside but he was at his bowl slurping up some water.

Looking at the closet door she opened it up and turned on the light. “since when did he make this a dark room?” The red light was a little hard to see in but her eyes soon adjusted quickly.

Spooky wasn’t the feeling that she was feeling but more so unsettled. Yn looked at the photos on the table and quite literally almost vomited.

“ what… what is that?” Stammering as her eyes scanned over the photos laid out on the table.

Pictures of people being hurt, harmed. There were far more worse ones that she doesn’t even want to even mention. Gazing up on the line looking at the ones drying where pictures of, her.

This wouldn’t be weird if it wasn’t of her sleeping, in the shower, getting dressed, even at work.

“Did jungkook take these?… no way…”

Yn was flabbergasted,

Was her boyfriend of 5 years, a serial killer? A psychopath? A fucking weirdo? I mean she saw the signs but thought she was tripping.

Days where he would come home with blood and dirt on his hands and clothes. He would always say it was his and it came from the thorns he dealt with at work.

“yn! I’m home!” Jungkook shouted. As he walked in and smiled when he saw Bam sitting on the couch peacefully sleeping.

It’s where yn and bam usually cuddle so, where is she at?

“Did she leave you by yourself?” He asked Bam who was waking up from sleep. Walking towards the kitchen he saw dinner was made and a note on the fridge door.

“ Welcome home babes! Sorry I couldn’t be home to greet you, I went out to go get a few things but my sister called and said she wanted to have a little sibling time! Ha. Be back by 11 pm! Dinners fixed but do warm it up, then shower and get some sleep! See you later,

Love, Yn <3”

“Ah, I guess she did leave us by ourselves tonight Bam.” He chuckled and took off his jacket. He felt weird though.

Since when did her sister want to hang out so late? This is the first he ever heard of it. Pondering, he grabbed his phone and called yn’s sister.

“Hello? Jungkook?” She answered confused as ever at this late ass call. “Hey, sorry to call so late. is yn with you?” Jungkook asked but his full attention was on his office door.

“What? No she’s not. Why?” Without missing a beat Jungkook hung up the phone right after. He dialed yn’s number. What he wasn’t expecting was to hear her phone sitting right on the couch next to Bam. He watched it ring and sighed. Maybe she just went out and forgot it on accident, no need to panic.

For some reason in the back of his mind he felt as though she found out. She went into his forbidden office. Jungkook chuckled, “ she would never disobey me.” He warmed his food up then sat at the table but he couldn’t eat.

Nor could the feeling of her going in his office go away. He stood up and walked to the door and opened it.

At first he didn’t notice anything out of place until he realized it was warm in the room. He never turns the air on in this room. Jungkook looked around about to leave until something so obvious caught his eyes.

The red light illuminating on the other side of the closet door. With quick steps, he opened the door well threw it open. Nothing was touched but the light alone was a clear sign that someone was in there.

He mentally and physically cursed himself.

“ She knows, she fucking knows.” He calmly stated but boy was he heated.

“ I need to fucking find her…now.”

To be continued…

#jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook #bts #bts x reader #jk #jungkook x reader #bts jung jungkook #yandere!jungkook #jungkook ff #jungkook #jungkook yandere series

[sxfthannie]

Delusional

↦ pairing: yandere!hoshi x reader

↦ warning: high schoolers making out, hoshi looks at reader in a sexual way at some point, sensual.

↦ note: delusional obsessive boy hoshi sounds just about right!

↦ word count: 1k (damn wtf)

Hoshi's gaze had been fixated on you from the very beginning of senior year in high school. And he loved jotting down little details about you.

Her school skirt is always slightly shorter than the norm, leading to occasional scoldings from teachers.

Her hair reaches a little lower than her shoulders. (It’s been 3 years and she maintains the same length)

She always arrives at school at 7:30/7:40 A.M.

She always takes breakfast in class before the first class of the day. (It’s always sandwiches and strawberry milk)

Applies her strawberry flavoured lip gloss at least 4 times a day in school. (One, after breakfast, two, a few minutes before lunch break, three, after lunch break, four, before school ends.)

Has a bunch of strawberry flavoured candies in her school bag.

Loves strawberries. (cute.)

She doesn’t like participating in P.E. or any sports event.

She always sleeps during history class, stays in class during P.E and is always attentive during English class.

She likes to watch anime at the back of the class with her friends when a teacher is absent. (She seems to like Gintama recently)

She smiled at me today. (That must mean she loves me?)

And he seems to be persistent on the 11th detail. Both of you are in the same class, which means it’s not impossible to avoid each other and small interactions do happen here and there.

But though he hasn’t asked you directly about it, he seems to believe that you too are in love with him.

Delusional, people would call him. But he knows the truth. He knows you better than anyone.

~~~

In the midst of P.E class, Hoshi found himself unable to focus and quickly excused himself, making a beeline for the empty classroom. His face flushed with embarrassment, his cheeks burning like a raging fire. The sound of his own heartbeat echoed in his ears, pounding loudly as if it were a drum. The cause of his distress? You. The teacher had coerced you into participating in P.E today, despite your previous disinterest in the class for the past year or two.

“It’ll be boys vs girls today and it’ll only tally when you participate so make sure to come.” The teacher told you.

But the clothes you had were only from your first year, and they hugged your chest so snugly, highlighting your figure in a way that Hoshi had never expected. He had seen you in your short school skirt before, which was more revealing than P.E. clothes, but this was different. It ignited a whirlwind of thoughts in his mind.

Perhaps he enjoyed the allure of someone exuding sexiness even when fully dressed? No, that wasn't it. He loved it because it was you.

With a slight shake of his head, hoping to dispel the thoughts of you, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. "Maybe if I write it all down," he mumbled to himself, retrieving his notebook filled with every intricate detail about you and he began to hastily jot down his thoughts.

33. She only has one P.E clothes, which was from two years ago. She had no choice but to wear it today and her che-

As the classroom door slid open, he swiftly concealed the book beneath his desk, trying to appear nonchalant. His gaze fixated on the entrance, his heart skipped a beat when he saw you walk in. A smile accompanied by a gentle nod greeted him, as you settled into the seat directly in front of him.

Usually, he’s happy to be in the same room as you but right now, no. Especially not when you’re still in your P.E clothes.

“Since you left, the boys were outnumbered by one person so I volunteered to sit out too.”

Huh? You’re talking to him? Him?

“Oh, I- I see.” That's all he managed to say, desperately avoiding looking anywhere below your face. An awkward silence fills between the two of you.

"Hey, are you okay?" You inquire, noticing his heavy breathing and his gaze that was fixed on particularly nothing behind you. "Hoshi?" Your voice pronounces his name, and suddenly he becomes acutely aware of the tightness in his pants.

It's the first time you've ever called him by his name. Of course, you were aware of his name, but you had never uttered it aloud before, as there was never a need to call out to him. Hoshi had often daydreamed about the melody of his name rolling off your tongue, but nothing could match the authenticity of hearing it firsthand.

“Are you sick?” You ask him in a worried tone. As you rise from your seat, your hand instinctively reaches out to check his temperature. The gentle touch of your hand against his forehead seems to ignite a feverish heat on his face. "Y/N," he murmurs your name, his grip tightening around your wrist.

Before you can comprehend his actions, he swiftly manoeuvres you, positioning you against his desk. His free arm encircles your waist, drawing you closer to him. Your chest brushing against his increases his already heightened state.

"Y/N," he whispers your name once more, his lips finding yours in a long-awaited kiss. Finally, he experiences the sensation of kissing the lips he had always yearned for. The taste of strawberries lingers on your lips, a delightful result of the lip gloss you adored.

Tongue. Her tongue.

That's all his mind could comprehend, but your lips remained tightly sealed, denying him the one thing he craved in this moment. Hoshi withdraws his hand from your waist, only to slide it beneath your shirt, his icy touch against your flesh causing you to gasp within the embrace. Seizing the opportunity, he thrusts his tongue into your awaiting mouth.

The kiss is messy with a blend of possessiveness and urgency, yet there also lingers a subtle desperation.

His hand continues its upward glide along your exposed skin, encircling your body with a possessive grip that sends shivers down your spine. The hand that once held your wrist is now entwined in your hair. "So soft... Just as I had imagined," he muses to himself.

His plump lips finally part from yours, granting you the sweet release of breath that you had been holding captive.

“Wha– What is wrong with you.?!” He grimaces at your voice, yet still refuses to release you from his arms. He wants to keep holding you like this, to keep you close. “I’m sorry, I–” Hoshi begins to speak, but his words trail off as he catches sight of the expression on your face.

There were many emotions displayed on your face but ‘anger’ wasn’t one of them. Instead, you appear flustered and embarrassed, your cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. "Are you... blushing?" he questions, his hand instinctively reaching out to caress your cheek, only to be swiftly pushed away.

You rush out of the classroom and at the same time, the other students walk into the class. "Y/N," he murmurs your name, his fingertips grazing his lips as he reminisces about the kiss and the emotions that played across your face mere moments ago.

"She definitely likes me."

#youngie ! #kwon soonyoung #kwon soonyoung fanfic #kwon hoshi #kwon hoshi fanfic #hoshi x reader #yandere hoshi #yandere seventeen #seventeen x reader #hoshi smut

[sea-creature-things]

Grimwalker things

Chapter 4: Scales, more importantly, shedding

This is my offering to the huntlow shippers. I love those two so much. Writing their crush hell was incredibly fun.

Most people when they see ‘scales of a selkidomus’ they think of boiling water resistance, but I went in a different direction. Have fun lol.

For the next chapter I'm writing about a very popular headcanon about Stonesleepers, its gonna be angsty again :)

Also; TW for blood and description of injury. (It's not graphic but a warning just to be safe)

Read here below the cut or on AO3 with this link:

He remembered thinking it was normal when he was younger. It was just a thing that happened every few months. It was annoying, but not weird, or potentially unsettling to other people.

Until an extremely awkward conversation with Steve.

It was on a mission a few years ago, when he was 14. Hunter was ordered to capture a Snaggleback. The task itself wasn’t hard, but he needed backup for getting it back to the castle. So he’d called in the cavalry, Steve. He was Hunter’s favourite scout, even though he was practically glued to Lilith. Steve was never mean, he never tried to steal credit or gain favours.

On the way back Hunter found out shedding was in fact NOT a normal thing that happened. They were using an airship to easily transport the Snaggleback. His shedding day was very well-timed, he’d been scratching all day and the flight back home was no exception.

“Ugh! I hate it when my scars shed.” Hunter complained as he itched his arm. Steve had been eyeing his scratching for a while, but he hadn’t said anything. Now he turned to him confused.

“What?” The big hollow eyes of Steve’s mask stared directly at Hunter. Who thought he simply hadn’t heard him right.

“The shed. On scars.” Hunter tried to explain, he remembered thinking it was so obvious. “It always feels so weird.”

“Do you mean the scabs?” Steve continued to stare at him, this time Hunter looked at him in confusion. It was suddenly very quiet a thousand feet in the air. Even the Snaggleback had stopped its chittering.

“No?” Afraid that he said something wrong or stupid, Hunter decided to stop talking all together. He even ignored poor Steve when he asked more confused questions.

Since that day, his shedding became something to hide. He tried to find any kind of information about it in books from the healing coven. But that only confirmed that it was unnatural.

At least now he knew why it happened, but he had no idea how it all worked. Maybe the damage to his skin had exposed the Selkidomus scales underneath, or… in between?

He still didn’t fully understand what made him go from lose ingredients, to a fully formed witch-imitation. Maybe the wound had locally deactivated the magic? He didn’t know!

And it didn’t matter, because right now he needed an excuse, not the truth. Since, apparently, he had walked into the kitchen with a bleeding face!

Last night, when he’d gone to bed, the scar on his cheek was itchy. Which probably meant that he ripped his shed while sleeping. He hadn’t even felt the wound, or the blood dripping down his chin. He only noticed after Luz, Camila, Amity and Willow had collectively gasped the moment he walked in.

He was startled and still a little dazed from not being the first one up for a change. Of all the days to start sleeping in. He had actually been sleeping at night recently, for 8 hours even. But this was the first morning that the clock read 6:30 when he woke up. On a week day!

His friends had reassured him time and time again that sleeping in was no big deal. In fact, they wanted him to do it. But he was still nervous when he climbed the stairs that morning. Still, when he reached the top, nobody was impatiently waiting for him. Nobody scolded him or barraged him with an extra long list of demands.

His anxiety seemed to just wash away, and he felt very relaxed walking to the kitchen. He found Luz, Camila, Amity and Willow at the dinner table. They were having a cheerful conversation over breakfast. It was Wednesday so that breakfast consisted of toast and cereal.

He felt completely at ease. They were happy, the room was warm and inviting, the sun shone bright beams through the window. Everything felt just right. But when he walked in, their conversation stopped. They all gasped.

He had stupidly turned to them with a questioning look, like an idiot, a fool!

Amity clasped a hand over her mouth and Camila brought hers to her heart. Willow dropped her spoon in her cereal bowl and Luz pushed away from the table, standing up abruptly.

“What? What’s wrong?” He had asked bewildered. Again, like an idiot. Their looks of pure horror should've been a clue.

“Hunter… you’re bleeding.” Amity was the first to regain her composure. Her voice was laced with fear and her eyes matched it. But she wasn’t making eye-contact, her gaze was locked on his cheek.

“What?” Hunter touched his face in disbelief. Yup, there was definitely warm, sticky blood on his hand. How in the world did he not feel anything? How had he not noticed sooner?

“Oh.”

“OH?!” Luz yelled out mortified, it made him jump a little. Luz’s whole body was rigid with tension, her hands were slammed on the table. She seemed angry, but Hunter knew she was scared by the look in her eyes.

They had no idea what was going on. But… what could he possibly give as explanation?

“This just… happens sometimes.” He said with great difficulty. He hoped his obliviousness of the whole thing helped support his case.

“That doesn’t JUST happen!” Willow shouted even louder than his sister. Her hands gestured wildly above her bowl of cereal. She looked so concerned.

They all looked so worried, he couldn’t stand it.

“It’s fine, I swear!” He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t know how to calm them down. They had rarely seen blood like this. He was freaking them out and he didn’t know what to do!

Hunter rushed over to the sink to wash the blood off his face and hands. He stumbled against the counter and gripped the edge. He could fix this. He had to somehow ease their minds.

The moment he saw the deep red smear on his hand he knew what was happening. And he also knew he could not tell them the truth. Shedding?! Normal people don't shed!

His fingers became fidgety and it took him a few tries to turn on the sink. His heartbeat was already going a million miles a second. His eyes darted all over the place, but he couldn't see Camila out of the corners. Was she still at the table? Did she leave? Was she walking over to him?

Was she worried? Was she angry? And what about Luz, Willow and Amity? They looked so scared.

His hands were shaking and refusing to cooperate. He used to have better hand-eye coordination than this, even when he was injured. The repetitive motion of washing became fumbled. Why wouldn’t it come off?

“Hunter, baby, you are not fine.” Camila said, her voice was gentle but stern. Hunter’s shoulders tensed up. She didn’t sound angry, but he still felt like he couldn’t breathe. At least her voice was distant, which meant she was still at the table.

He hadn’t even registered what she said. He wasn’t ignoring her on purpose! But maybe it was better that way. If he could just get that damn blood of his hands, he could fix his face and everything would be okay again.

“Hunter…” Amity spoke softly. She couldn’t believe what was happening.

"It's not a big deal..." He muttered, he was trying to keep them at bay now. If he could just fix this and show them there was nothing wrong, everything would go back to being peaceful.

"There is blood coming out of your face!” Luz yelled again. She was distraught and frustrated with his attitude. Hunter felt his own frustration rise with how little blood was coming off his hands. He was running out of time.

"I know!” He turned around with desperation, he was trying so hard to calm them down. “But- just trust me, I promise it's normal."

All four of them were still at the dinner table. They had joined Luz in standing up and looked ready to jump into action, but it seemed like they were glued to their places. And Hunter was grateful for it. He could use the kitchen island as a kind of barrier between them.

"Hunter!" Willow said his name like it was supposed to mean something. Like the pure protest she put in saying just his name would make him understand. It didn't. It just made him more nervous.

"That's not normal!" Amity explained. She was right, of course it wasn’t normal. That’s how he’s felt ever since that mission years ago. He knew it wasn’t normal, but-

"It is for me!"

Hunter shut his eyes when he yelled back. He didn’t mean to do it, he didn’t want to. He’s never done that before, not here. He just felt so hopeless.

They all fell silent for a bit, catching their breath. Hunter looked at the ground nervously. The words had burst out in distress, as an attempt to comfort them, but he wasn't ready for what they meant.

Should he just tell them? He could explain it better if they knew- no. No no no, sweet Titan no! This could NOT be their first impression of a Grimwalker. He had to pivot this somehow.

His head shot up to watch their reactions, expecting questioning looks or suspicion. But instead he was met with several intensities of anger. Amity's furious expression was laced with somber understanding. Camila and Luz were sporting a very similar look of rage. But Willow's fiery eyes were definitely the highest level.

“Belos is fucking lucky he’s dead.”

Oh.

Right.

Well, at least he didn’t have to pivot this anymore. They already did it themselves. Hunter wasn’t ready for that implication either. He only felt more uneasy. Even though it was… true.

He turned around again very quickly. The energy in the room had changed, at least he could breathe now.

He heard Camila say something about a first aid kit and someone left the room. Hunter was pretty sure it was her, but he didn’t want to turn around a second time. The blood was finally starting to fade, it didn't used to take this long. Or maybe he never noticed because it wasn't urgent.

Nobody said anything until she came back and he heard her walk over. Hunter steeled himself.

“It doesn’t seem like something normal to me, but we won’t keep pressing you for answers.” Camila spoke softly, putting the kit to the side on the counter. Her presence wasn’t as scary as he expected.

"Thank you." Hunter carefully looked in her eyes, they were full of worry. He nervously looked away again.

Camila slowly reached a hand out towards his shoulder. Hunter did an involuntary step back. Her hand staggered in the air and she let it fall down on the counter. He shut his eyes as shame filled his heart. She was just trying to help!

“And if you need help with this…” Camila paused. She gestured to the first aid and sighed. ”… you only have to ask, okay?”

Hunter was shocked. This experience veterinarian and attentive, caring mother was leaving it to him. She was trusting him to know what to do and do it well. She was giving him exactly what he wanted.

“Okay.”

Camila was truly amazing. But why did she look so sad when she turned away? Why did Luz give her mom such a baffled stare? They didn’t need to worry, he wouldn’t need help. He’s done this a million times before.

Hunter breathed a sigh of relief, he finally felt his heart rate slowing down. He put his head back under the sink. The blood was still not coming off easily, but now he actually could fix it. Everything was going to be okay.

“Hey, let me help you.” Willow suddenly appeared next to him. Hunter glanced up in surprise.

He straightened up when he saw Willow’s face. She had the kind of stubborn look in her eyes that he first saw on the flyer derby field. He wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling right now. Things should be going back to normal, why did she still look so alarmed?

For a second he saw over her head. Amity, Luz and her mom stood a few feet away, in front of the fridge. His sister was hugging her stomach, looking very ill at ease. Amity was rubbing her girlfriend’s back, she shared a worried glance with Camila.

Hunter eyed Willow in confusion. She held the cloth she was holding under the sink. Then she held it up as if to show it to him. When he didn’t say anything she took it as the green light and held it against his damaged cheek. Gently wiping off blood.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her voice so soft and honey-sweet. The motion on the side of his face nearly frictionless. He stared down into her piercing emerald eyes.

Hunter’s brain was silent. It was literally empty up there. Suddenly it exploded back into action and with it his whole face turned hot like fire.

“Uh- YeA- I uhm, I’m okay.” He stammered. He cursed his voice for betraying him.

Willow was unconvinced. She tapped the counter a few times and pouted. The only words that were able to form in Hunter’s mind in that moment were: cute.

The plant witch then decisively tugged a cupboard above her open, taking a big bowl and filling it with water. She put the towel inside and shut the sink off. While holding the bowl in one arm, she took his left hand.

“Come on.” Willow walked passed him and tugged him along. Her grip on his hand wasn’t harsh or demanding, he could slip out easily if he wanted to.

He just didn’t want to.

The feeling was so nice and unexpected. Her soft skin wrapping over his war-torn palm. The determined way she was pulling him along. Before he realised it, she had brought him to the dinner table.

Hunter threw his eyes to the group in front of the fridge, utterly dumbfounded. Luz’s face turned into slight shock before her hand went up to her mouth, failing to hide a smile. Amity followed suit, the corners of her eyes crinkled from her amusement. The fear both girlfriends had was nowhere to be found. Camila also grew a smile, but a much tinier one.

Hunter didn’t feel any less dumbfounded.

“Willow-" Hunter began, his voice didn’t sound nearly as strong as he wanted it to.

“Sit.” She cut him off with a very nice-sounding demand. Pulling out a chair so the back of it was against the table, she pointed at it and looked up at him challengingly.

He turned again to the fridge-group. The girlfriend duo was now sporting full Cheshire Cat smirks. Camila was avoiding eye-contact, her smile slowly growing wider.

Willow set the bowl on the table, wringing the cloth out so it was just damp enough. Then she faced him with one hand on her hip. He searched in her eyes, but saw no way out. So he sat down.

Those forest green eyes, rich and beautiful. They came closer. He felt the heat rise to his face again when she carefully stroked some hair out of the way. His eyes blinked rapidly without permission. She was so close!

Those emerald eyes were brimming with focus. She brought the towel to his cheek again. Incredibly gently she began rubbing the dried blood off. Hunter was almost certain she’d never done this before, but it felt painless.

His heartbeat was accelerating again and his breathing was far from regular. But it was very different from a panic attack. He made slow and tiny breaths, almost like he was scared to breathe. Like expanding his lungs too much would make the moment stop. And his poor excuse of a heart was loud, so loud he was scared she’d hear it, but it wasn’t hysteric. Just loud.

Every time she went away to wash the towel in the bowl, that heart sank to watch her leave. And then it skipped a beat when she put the towel back against his cheek. If that piece of cloth wasn’t there, she would be holding his face in her hand. Hunter’s gulp was unintentional.

Willow’s pretty eyes darted to make contact with his. His heart screamed and begged his brain to come back, but it was gone, turned to mush. He couldn’t look away.

“Sorry if it hurts. I’ll be more careful.” She said and smiled at him. A genuine, sympathetic smile that put dimples in her cheeks.

The boy was too stunned to speak.

He heard giggling from behind him. He hadn’t even noticed that Luz and Amity had moved back to the dinner table. He couldn’t see them anymore, but their presence was palpable. Hunter didn’t know if his face could become any redder. A few shades darker and Willow wouldn’t be able to distinguish his skin from the blood.

A hair strand fell down into her workspace and Willow tucked it behind his ear. Her fingers grazing his temple, creating a tingling feeling on his skin. But the strand fell back down again.

“Can you hold your hair back?” She asked pointing at the now multiple strands clinging to the freshly cleaned side of his face. Willow moved back to the bowl to do the whole rinse again. He still watched her eyes in a trance. When she heard no answer, Willow glanced back up confused and expecting. “Hunter?”

“Huh?” Finally, his brain had returned and his entire body rejoiced. It bursted back to life, or at least back into talking. “Oh! Yes. I can do that.”

Another round of giggling erupted behind him. Hunter’s fiery blush had spread to the tips of his ears. He tried to combat the burning with his much colder hands while smoothing his hair.

“Here Hunter, you can borrow my hair tie.” Luz said. He turned around to find his sister and her girlfriend cuddled against each other. Their chairs pushed close together.

Amity was resting her head against Luz’s collarbone as she hugged her around the waist. Luz had one arm over her shoulders, while waiving the hair tie around with the other. Both of them had that Cheshire smile again. Or rather, still had it.

Hunter glared at them, but he knew there was zero ground to stand on. He just accepted the offer and quickly turned back around. Resulting in another laugh from those two.

His only saving grace right now was knowing Vee and Gus weren’t here to witness this mess. The blood, the panic or… this. Hunter thanked the Titan for that.

Wait, where was Camila? Hunter searched the kitchen and found the Dominican mother in front of the stove. He couldn’t quite see what she was making. Maybe her lunch for work? She seemed relaxed and he was happy she hadn’t left yet.

Okay. Focus. Hair, bun. He could do this.

His jittery fingers complied, Hunter was so glad his brain was back. He popped the hair tie in his mouth as he pulled back his hair. It had gotten pretty long, so the girls taught him how to make a bun.

When he was done he nervously looked at Willow again. She’d been patiently waiting with the rinsed out towel and smiled when they made eye contact. His make-shift heart thundered against his chest.

She got close again and continued wiping his cheek, somehow more gently than before. Now that his brain wasn’t a melted pile of mush, his thoughts were going a million miles per second.

He thought about how close she was. He thought about the complete switch that the morning had made because of her. He thought her cheeks looked more pink than before, but he must’ve imagined it.

Hunter thought she was so gentle and kind. And she cared so much about her friends and family. Hunter knew that he was apart of that too, but now he felt it.

And the feeling was incredibly strong.

Her eyes became too much. He lowered his gaze, focusing on his hands in his lap. There were still some crusted blood smears left on them. He picked at them. Out of sight, Willow hummed as if she was deliberating something important.

"Look up." She instructed, her sugary voice still made demands sound nice. For a second, he thought that she wanted him to look into her eyes, but that was crazy. She was staring very intently at his neck. The blood had probably trailed down on it. He did as he was told without really thinking about it.

Wow, he’s never trusted anyone with his neck before. Wow, that's a weird thought to have.

She went to rinse the cloth out once more, then started cleaning under his jaw and down his neck. Her touch still so soft. Judging from the feeling, Hunter could tell the blood trail reached just above his clavicle.

His heartbeat had quieted just a little bit and Hunter found himself staring at her eyes again. Her gorgeous emerald eyes, they weren’t showing any pity. Just care. And a bit of concern. He had no idea how bad it all looked, he didn’t get a chance to find a mirror in the mayhem.

He could feel her try out a slightly harsher scrub, which he was fine with. His neck didn’t have an open wound. He’d probably do it even harder himself.

He never cared about scraping or scratching his skin, he just wanted the blood gone. Willow wasn’t used to that, and he hoped she never would be.

Just thinking about every time he’d done this alone was making him itchy. Or maybe those were just the other scars that still need to shed. He scratched one on his upper leg, through his sweatpants. Yup, it was definitely the scars. He’ll have to be more careful with the rest, so they wouldn’t bleed.

Titan, he was so weird!

“Alright! Almost done.” Willow beamed at him, dragging him out of his thoughts. She wore a proud smile, giving her those cute dimples.

Hunter’s blush burned hot as he automatically smiled back. A pretty shaky smile at that. Part of him was relieved that Willow didn’t have to take care of him anymore. But a small part of him never wanted this moment to end.

“Just have to wipe this a few more times.” She said as she held the cloth against his face again. Her gentle touch made his heart skip another beat. If it were real, he’d be concerned about how many it had missed.

“I think the wound is pretty shallow.” She wiped once over his scar and stared at it closely. It took him some effort not to shrink away. “And it doesn't look like it’s bleeding very fast."

“Good.” Hunter said, giving in to the reflex for personal space. His poor, fake heart couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up and finally breathed normally. His face had been on scorching hot overdrive for way too long.

Willow took the first aid kit from the table. When had that gotten there? She opened in and searched through the items. He watched her awkwardly. He wanted to thank her, but he wasn’t sure how.

“Uhh I don’t really know how this works though.” She said apologetically. Taking out Azura themed Band-aids and trauma scissors, supporting her claim. Willow chuckled at her items and Hunter couldn’t help but smile.

She put everything back and held the kit out to him. As he took it, his brain screamed at him.

“Thank you!” He blurted out, a little too loud. He clumsily pointed at his face. “F-for everything.”

“You’re welcome!” Willow smiled so brightly she could’ve just as easily been the sun.

Hunter sifted through the first aid kit, laying the things he could use out on the table. Disinfectant wipes, dressing, gauze and tape. Oh yeah, this’ll do nicely. As should be expected in the house of a vet, Camila was very keen on their health.

He’d have to use disinfect it first. Hunter absolutely hated this step, but it was necessary. He wiped down to remove any new blood and as expected it hurt like hell. He hissed through his teeth and balled his fist, trying his best to suppress the reaction.

“Are you sure you’re okay? It looks painful…” Willow said, noticing it anyways. She was about to sit down next to Amity, but paused when she heard him.

“What? Pffft no! I’m fine!” Hunter laughed awkwardly. Her eyes squinted and he knew she didn’t believe him. His wonky smile probably wasn’t helping either. He coughed a few times to get a grip on his voice. “Don’t worry. This is supposed to hurt.”

Willow crossed her arms. Why was she so hard to convince?

“He’s not wrong,” Luz said, forever his saviour. “How are you gonna bandage your head anyways?”

“Are we getting mummy-Hunter today?” Amity laughed. Their amusement seemed to convince Willow to take her seat.

“Ha-ha,” Hunter rolled his eyes, “that’s not necessary.”

He threw the dirty wipe away and turned to Luz. He was eager to actually teach her something. He could give her useful knowledge. Of course, he hoped she’d never have to do it.

“First, you put a 4x4 dressing over the wound.” Hunter opened one of the packets. And draped it over his face, making sure to only touch the edges. He could see Luz’s smile growing and before she could make a joke about sauce, he explained further. “Dressing is a sterile piece of gauze that helps to stop the bleeding.”

Luz closed her mouth in disappointment, but she still seemed intrigued about his process. A tiny feeling of pride filled his heart, which he knew shouldn’t be there, but he couldn’t help it.

“Then, you put a strip of normal gauze on top of it.” Hunter continued, taking said gauze and cutting about 6 inches off. He also took the tape and ripped a few pieces off with his teeth.

“Like this.” He let muscle memory take control as he taped the gauze just below his eye. He pulled it taught and taped the other end on the underside of his jaw. He repeated the process for a second strip, just for good measure. He secured it all with two more pieces of tape on the vertical sides.

“Tada!” Hunter did jazz-hands, which he regretted instantly. He dropped his arms awkwardly and put all the first aid stuff back in the kit.

“Huh, it’s like a makeshift giant band-aid.” Luz said amazed. Amity, who was still cuddling close to her, hummed in agreement.

“Exactly.” He smiling as much as he could with that band-aid so close to his mouth. “Once it’s closed, you can leave it exposed to air. No need to exchange the bandages.”

“Oh cool.” She was impressed, though still a little uncomfortable. He understood his knowledge had… implications. But he’d rather her know how and not need to use it, than not know how when she needed it.

Well, he’d rather just crawl into a hole and never come back out. But it was a little too late for that.

Hunter dared to look at Willow again. She was stirring her bowl of cereal. It had turned into a mushy porridge and judging from her expression, Willow didn’t find it very appetising either.

She suddenly looked up and their eyes met. She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. He could feel heat rise to his cheeks again. He really thought he was over this by now. At least half of his face was hidden.

He knew without looking that Luz and Amity had that stupid smirk again. But screw them! Willow was just being nice, that’s just her thing. And he was just embarrassed about everything. He was just flustered, because…

It doesn’t matter! It’s over now and everything can go back to normal.

“Here, cariño.” Camila said as she put a plate down and motioned for him come closer. “Eat up. You need something better than cereal to replenish the blood you lost.”

The plate had two pieces of toast with a generous amount of scrambled eggs on top. She also put a bowl of fruit and a glass of water down. It looked amazing.

“Wow… thank you.” Hunter said perplexed. He hesitantly walked over, looking a little too surprised for Camila’s liking. He looked up at her, he wanted to say something else, but changed his mind and sat down.

He glanced at the girls on the other side of the table. All three of them were watching him impatiently, Amity even gestured at the food like ‘eat already’. He took a bite out the mountain of egg on toast. It was absolutely delicious. He realised how hungry he was, quickly going in for a second bite.

He hummed in delight and Camila was very happy to hear it. She smiled lively and exchanged thumbs-ups with her daughter. A sudden noise made Hunter stop in the middle of his third bite.

There were thunderous footsteps in the hallway. Gus appeared, grabbing the doorway so his momentum swung him into the kitchen. He screeched to a halt in the middle of the room.

“WHY IS THERE A TRAIL OF BLOOD IN THE HALWAY?!?”

Damn it.

Amity was watching Vee and Gus flock around a very worn-out Hunter. They had barged in one after the other, with the same reaction when they saw his bandages. They gasped and ran to him, inspecting every inch of his face.

Hunter tried his best to assure his buddy he was okay, but Gus wasn’t having it. And when Vee joined in, the conversation started all over again.

Now they bombarded him with barely intelligible questions. Vee even checked him for a fever, practically facepalming Hunter who was beginning to look annoyed.

Amity was sure they weren’t actually worried at this point, but they showed no signs of stopping. Still, she didn’t see a reason to step in. This was payback for scaring them so much.

Judging by the relaxed way Willow and Luz sat beside her, they felt the same.

“If you two are trying to play nurse you’re a little late for that~” Amity said in a sing-song voice. She smirked at her friend. “Isn’t that right Wi-“

“HAHA! Yeah cuz Hunter already patched himself up!” Willow exclaimed nervously. Then she leaned in to whisper threateningly. “You’re so funny Amity~ eat your breakfast.”

Luz tried to stifled her giggles when Willow gave her a menacing look as well.

Amity had no idea why she was so worried. Hunter’s crush on her was so painfully obvious, she didn’t need to hide anything. To be honest, Amity was still a little shocked that Willow liked him back. But this morning was undeniable, her beautiful best friend likes the blonde dork.

Luz swore up and down that she even saw Willow blush when Hunter put his hair in a bun. Amity didn’t see it though.

Gus hugged the older boy tight, yammering as he pushed his cheek against Hunter’s chest. Hunter seemed to resign to his fate, patting Gus’s back with a peeved expression.

“Veeeeeee~” Gus cried out with way too much theatrics. Turning to her while shaking his friend. “Hunter’s dying!”

“I’m not dying!” Hunter yelled irritated. He tried to wriggle out of Gus’s hug. “It’s just a wound, a shallow flesh wound, I’m okay!”

“But what even happened?” Vee whined frantically.

“Nothing- I just… Guys!” He turned to the girls with desperation. “Tell them I’m okay.”

Amity looked from her left to her right, sharing a silent agreement. They weren’t letting the entertainment end just yet.

“Well,” Amity placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on folded hands. She leered at Hunter. “you never told us what happened.”

Hunter tilted his head and stared at her with a look of pure betrayal. His mouth hung open from disbelief. He kept staring at her while Vee and Gus circled around him, poking and prodding. Willow bursts out laughing, quickly followed by Luz.

"Ugh!” Luz exclaimed after her giggle-fit died down. She was looking at her phone for the time. “I have to get ready for school."

Amity watched her girlfriend get up and walk away. She was surprised to see her eyes so sad. She jumped up to follow Luz while she got ready for the bus. Her girlfriend had literally just laughed her butt off, what was going on?

“That was a pretty weird start of the day, huh?” Amity said as she followed Luz upstairs.

“Ha, definitely.” Luz gave her an exhausted look. They entered her room, which was now just ‘the girls room’.

It was a bit cramped with the extra beds, but they made it work. They tried their best to keep things tidy. Although, Willow’s bed was a constant jumble of blankets that no one could untangle.

Amity’s own bed looked pretty inviting right now. She needed a nap, and it wasn’t even seven-thirty yet!

This morning had really been something. First, her friend was bleeding from his face. It had plunged the room in a state of panic. But then, out of nowhere, Willow had saved the day by playing nurse.

It was kind of impressive how easily Willow got him to sit down and cooperate. After sharing a shocked look with her girlfriend, which quickly turned into giggling, her and Luz sat down to enjoy the moment.

It was such a nice domestic moment. Watching the flustered mess form afar, side by side with her own source of tomato-face. It was almost nostalgic.

She walked over to Luz’s desk, which was a bit of a mess. The books they got from the library, all their drawings, and anything interesting enough to bring home were all be dumped on the desk. Luz’s egg palisman was also there, under a lamp. Nobody knew if keeping it warm like that was necessary, but it couldn’t hurt.

“So… what do you think happened with Hunter’s scar?” Amity picked up her pencil case from the desk, she knew Luz would forget it otherwise.

“I don’t know.” Luz answered quickly. She gathered her books in her schoolbag

“Hehe, maybe he couldn’t see where he was going through that hair and bonked against a wall. I swear his hair is growing faster than mine.” She held her own, now faded-pink hair up from the sides, but Luz wasn’t watching her. She didn’t really react at all. Amity decided to change the subject. “When does the bus get here?”

“I don’t know, soon.” Luz said, starting to feel a little antsy.

“What’s it like in there anyways?” Amity handed her the pencil case before she closed her bag.

“Boring- I don’t know…” She shook her head. Again, her eyes looked so sad. Amity still wanted to cheer her up, but she wasn’t sure how. Maybe she could tell Luz a story about the flying bus back home.

“Ya know, in the Boiling Ilses-“

“Yeah! Um...” Luz interrupted her, she looked a little alarmed. She pointed to the window. “Sorry batata, but I gotta go.”

“Oh. Right, of course.” Amity stepped aside, receiving a kiss on the cheek before her girlfriend practically sprinted away. She stared at the empty doorway.

The room fell silent and cold.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest, as she descended the stairs again. She tried not to feel so dejected, but it just wouldn’t go away.

It had been 6 weeks since her entire life turned upside down. That’s 1 and a half months. Or 42 days. Amity spared herself from calculating the hours. She didn’t need to count those.

Who’s counting anyways? Not her. She’s fine. She’s perfectly fine. She’s strong. She didn’t need to know. She didn’t need to think about it.

She didn’t need to think about her siblings or her dad. Or her home. Or her entire planet. Or how her girlfriend had become a little distant, hadn’t asked how she was doing in a while, hadn’t opened up to her lately.

Hadn’t comforted her about all the things she didn’t need to think about.

It was strange. Even though they had been living together for 6 weeks, and constantly saw each other, they barely had time to talk. Actually talk.

It wasn’t Luz’s fault! She can’t read minds. Amity just missed her bubbly girlfriend.

But it was fine! She is strong. And if Luz couldn’t be optimistic right now, she’d be strong enough for the both of them.

Starting with a portal to the demon realm.

She gathered her friends from the kitchen and they went to work in the clubhouse. They were close, she could feel it. They had a plan for a new portal door, which used palismen magic as substitute for Titan’s blood. They just needed to figure out a good set up.

Which was apparently impossible!

Especially if no one was helping her! Gus was busy teasing Willow, while she made magic flowers in the corner. Something about ‘livening this place up’. As if that mattered right now.

Hunter and Vee were in the other corner talking about a stupid old chair that had probably been there for centuries. She could hear Hunter fussing about ‘fixing it up with a sewing machine’ or something along those lines.

That was not important right now!

Not only were they doing nothing, they were also distracting her. Gus’s endless questions about Amity’s earlier nurse-comment, was making it very hard to focus.

She was trying to draw a schematic for the portal, but she couldn’t hear herself think.

And the scratching!

Oh sweet Titan, the constant itching from Hunter. What on earth was that guy doing? Did he decide to wear a sweater made of Griffin fur? Or whatever the human equivalent of that was!

“GUYS!” Amity yelled to get everyone’s attention. It worked, because 4 very surprised faces turned to her. Good. They better listen up. “Can we please focus on making this portal?!”

“Sure, we just-“

“No! Because we finally have an idea that might actually work, but you guys aren’t doing anything!” Amity watched her friends eye each other.

“Vee, you go back to the house and gather the portal-ingredients we bought yesterday. Willow and Gus, you guys go to the store and buy those metal cables. Hunter, you get over here and help me make a schematic - and stop scratching!"

"Alright! Damn!” Hunter threw his hands in the air. He gave her an incredulous look. “What is with you today?"

"Nothing!” Amity looked around at her friends, all of them seemed bewildered.

Okay, she may have overreacted just a little bit, maybe. She had the tendency to explode when something was annoying her, and then she’d just keep going. Like opening the floodgates.

“Good luck bro.” Vee slapped Hunter on the back. She slithered to the door faster than Amity had ever seen her slither before. She transformed in her human disguise and disappeared.

“Quick, let’s get outta here.” Willow elbowed Gus in the side and they also made a break for it.

Amity looked down, feeling her face warm up with embarrassment. She had definitely overreacted.

“Okay…” Hunter walked over to join her at the round table. He sat down carefully on the mini-cooler and breathed out loudly. “I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.” Amity said exasperated. He slowly reached out for the pen she was holding, giving her a look like she’d bite his head off. She slapped it down in his hand.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence. Hunter drew possible idea’s on how they would generate palisman magic. Amity monitored closely.

“Soooo…” Hunter began, clearly testing the waters. The death glare she gave him didn’t stop him though. “What is with you today?”

“Nothing.” She said again, knowing he wouldn’t buy it. She looked at his encouraging smile, which was lopsided thanks to the bandages. She sighed. “I wanna go home.”



“Of course.” Hunter said with sore understanding. He waited for her to continue.



“And I can’t do that unless this works.” She tapped her schematic repeatedly with her index finger. Those half-scientific drawings, held together with hopes and dreams.

“Yeah, but… those have kind of always been the stakes right?” Hunter said cautiously. He was on guard for any signs of Amity getting mad again. She was only surprised. He was seeing right through her. “Did something else happen?”

Amity looked at her hands, picking at her finger nails. For some reason, the way Hunter asked felt familiar. Sometimes he had weird instincts about these things.

“Have you noticed that Luz seems more sad lately?” She said, trying her hardest to not sound completely heartbroken.

Hunter took a deep breath. He averted his eyes and hummed in a way that showed how big a deal it was. For both of them.

“I don’t think she expected it to take this long.” He fumbled with the edges of the schematics.

“I wanna talk with her, help her. Cheer her up, you know?” Amity asked and he nodded. “I just don’t know how.”

“Why don’t you go on a date again?” Hunter suggested. “You can talk with her privately, but also cheer her up.”

Amity stared at him. It was so simple, he’d come up with it so easily.

“That’s perfect.” She was shocked.

“Well it’s not portal science.” Hunter laughed and she rolled her eyes. Then she remembered something and her face grew an evil smile.

“Maybe you should take your own advice.” She kept her voice sweet and innocent. She was plotting a perfect comeback, the poor boy had no idea. He only turned to her puzzled. “With a certain plant witch?”

Her scheme worked exactly as she wanted. Hunter’s confusion turned into wide-eyed recognition for a split second. Then his whole face lit up with a blush just as bright as that morning.

“D-Didn’t you wanna focus on the schematics?” He stammered. Amity cackled, happy with how her plan came together. Hunter hid his face in his hands until he calmed down.

They eventually went back to work. The idea flowed more easily. Funny how such a simple idea could mean everything. Amity felt a lot lighter now that she had a plan. Her brain was already busy designing a perfect date. She bumped Hunter’s shoulder.

“Thanks by the way.”

Hunter was sitting in the basement, sewing a pink armchair cover with the machine. Vee had helped him sneak it out of the clubhouse.

He really wanted to fix it and this seemed like the perfect time to use the sewing machine Camila had given him. She was delighted to find out he like sewing and taught him how to use the machine. It was very fun, she was a nice teacher.

Flapjack was snoozing nearby on the table. He had made a tiny nest of fabric scraps. Every now and then, he’d wake up to check Hunter’s progress. He’d compliment him when he did a good job. Or when he did a bad job. Flap still didn’t really understand sewing.

Like when Hunter accidentally stitched his sleeve onto the fabric. After telling Flapjack that, no that really wasn’t a good thing, he flew upstairs to grab a pair of scissors. He also suggested to wear something with short sleeves for the time being.

Hunter was a little paranoid that someone would come downstairs and see his scars. Which usually wasn’t bad, but some of them were still… shedding. Flapjack, being the hypocrite that he was, told him it was fine and went back to sleep.

He might be cute now, but Flap wasn’t as peaceful earlier. The little bird had gotten the shock of his life when he saw Hunter with those bandages. His ears still hurt from the loud chirping.

But explaining what happened to his own palisman was a lot easier. He already knew all his secrets.

Selkidomus scales, of all things.

He had read a lot about them when he’d lived at Hexside. The Selkidomus was an strange creature, an amazing representative of the Boiling Ilses’ standards. But they were difficult to study, thanks to them slowly going extinct.

As much as they still didn't know, the bestiary was quite extensive on the demon. There was a lot more information than there was about Grimwalkers. Hunter had felt a strange comfort reading about their traits and life history. It was easier to latch onto something he could actually learn.

He also felt a familiar pang of guilt whenever he thought of the creatures. He knew he was to blame as well, even if he technically never killed one. For days he had been hiring pirates, casting tracking spells and sailing the ocean.

He was hunting his own kind... in a way.

Was it normal for him to feel connected to those creatures? Is that why Belos told him to capture one? Did Belos make every Golden Guard hunt a Selkidomus? Were they all just collecting the ingredients for their successors?

Hunter shivered, half involuntarily and half in an attempt to shake those awful thoughts. Such a barrage of questions was painfully common nowadays. He tried to not fall into a spiral. Again.

“Hey bro,” Luz’s voice startled him. She was halfway down the stairs and hung over the railing. “Watcha doing?”

“Oh hey,” Hunter relaxed when he saw she was alone. “I’m fixing that old chair from the clubhouse.”

Luz jumped over the railing and landed on the couch. She sat down beside him and came way too close to the sewing machine, blocking his view on purpose.

“Ooooh cool!” She laughed.

“It is cool.” Hunter said as he shoved her head out of the way. Flapjack woke up from the commotion and went to greet Luz, who gave him all the head scratches he wanted.

While she was busy with Flap, her expression seemed to fade a little. Her smile was still there but her eyes looked somber. Hunter was reminded of what Amity said earlier in the day.

“Are you okay?” He asked worried. Her head shot back to face him.

“I’m fine! H-how are you?” Hunter raised an eyebrow. Luz grimaced, she heard it too. She just hoped he wouldn’t-

“Rough day at school?” There it was. His kind expression was nothing but a trap! He’d be all understanding and nice, and then she’d tell him all her problems.

“Yup!” She admitted just to move on quickly. She was here to check on him, not the other way around. “Anyways, I was thinking about this morning.”

This time it was Hunter’s turn to feel uncomfortable. They both had something they didn’t want to talk about. But he had literally been bleeding this morning, so his thing would have to go first. He sighed and checked the stairs to see if the coast was clear.

“Is it a Grimwalker thing?” Luz whispered after following his gaze.

He nodded, but didn’t explain anything just yet. A big part of him wanted to explain it to her. To ease Luz’s concerns and have her mediate with the others. Another part of him felt guilty that she was constantly the only one he wasn’t lying to. It seemed like they were always sharing secrets in the basement.

He also just didn’t want to admit it. The demon realm is weird, witches are weird, Luz herself is weird, but Grimwalkers are on a whole different level. It was embarrassing.

“My scars… shed.” He finally managed to spit it out. He looked back over at Luz. Their eyes locked for a solid minute of silence.

“I’m sorry, what?” She finally said after blinking a few times.

Hunter groaned and he let his head fall on the table next to the sewing machine. It was nice and cushioned from all the fabric scraps. Flapjack flew from Luz’s hands onto the back of his head.

“There, there kid.” He chirped and rubbed his beak over Hunter’s hair in way of patting him. Luz did the same thing on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna need a bit more information, bud.” She was trying to be supportive but that was hard when she was utterly confused.

Hunter sighed and moved so that he was laying on his chin. He checked the stairs one last time. Flap climbed up to nestle on the top of his head. He chirped a few encouraging words and Hunter sat up. He just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

“So, I’m made from Selkidomus scales. And the Selkidomus goes through a shedding phase every now and then. So…” He made a motion with his hands to put two and two together. Luz seemed to get it. “When a shed isn’t ready to come off yet and it gets ripped or whatever, it damages the skin underneath. That’s happened a few times before. So I’m guessing I ripped my shed in my sleep and that’s why I was, uh… bleeding.”

“Huh.” Luz stared at him blankly and the basement entered another uncomfortable silence. It was definitely not the weirdest thing she had seen in the Boiling Ilses, but this was also definitely not what she expected. “So it really is just something that happens sometimes?”

“Yeah.”

“You shed.”

“Yeah.” He showed his upper left arm, where the scar was a little flaky. Luz had a befuddled expression. “But only on my scars.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” He threw his arms up with sudden misery. He dropped his hands on Luz’s shoulders and held tight as he looked her directly in the eyes.

“I don’t know! There is zero information about grimwalkers. Nothing! The only thing all the books can agree on are the ‘ingredients’. I don’t know anything about me!” He whisper-yelled the avalanche of his feelings. The sudden misery turned into hopelessness and a tiny hint of crazy.

“Oh right, that-”

“You know what I do know Luz? I know that the locals on The Arm collect the scales, because they believe it brings luck. But I don’t feel lucky!” Hunter shook her back and forth. He was being dramatic for the bit, while also meaning every word he said. “I don’t feel lucky at all Luz!”

“Okay, okay, calm down!” Luz laughed as she grabbed his arms to stop the shaking. Her brother slumped over his sewing machine, fumbling the loose threads with a grumpy expression.

He had forgotten Flapjack, who slowly slid off his head. The cardinal made an undignified chirp before remembering he could fly. He landed on the table in front of his witch and whistled anxiously.

Hunter patted him to let him know it was okay. He was dead serious, but he wasn’t seriously upset.

“It’s really not that bad.” Luz said. Hunter glared at her, thinking she was lying to make him feel better. “No really. I’m just glad you’re okay. This morning was a lot.”

“I’m sorry.” Hunter’s guilt was having a field day with this entire situation.

“No,” Luz playfully chopped his head. “it wasn’t your fault.”

Even if that wasn’t what she meant, it was true. He's gone too soft, too relaxed. How could he just forget about his shedding? How could he ignore the signs? Just because he was tired?

“I just-“ Luz continued. “I’ve been thinking about this all day. I couldn’t focus!”

“Is that why you had a bad day at school?” He saw an opportunity to change the subject and took it. He wanted to move on before they even started talking, but now he was really eager for a new topic.

“Ah, I see what you did there.” Luz grimaced again. There had to be a way to avoid this. Apart from making Hunter feel guilty. More than he already did, at least. “Yes, but also no! There was something else this morning…”

He waited for her to continue, looking at her expectantly. He had told her about his thing after all. Now it was her turn.

“Everything in due time.” Flapjack chirped at his witch.

“He says you gotta say it.” Hunter translated falsely. Flap looked at him bewildered and Luz smiled at it.

“Did he now?” She asked as she propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. Flapjack chirped indignant. He tugged hard on Hunter’s hair-noodle.

“Well it’s only fair!” Hunter defended as he tried to escape his bird.

Luz laughed at their antics. Hunter seemed to feel better after telling her. She knew the same would probably be true for her, but she was ashamed.

“I was mean to Amity this morning.” She admitted after contemplating for a while. She knew he was the last person who’d judge her.

“Mean?” Hunter’s face scrunched in doubt. That’s not what Amity had told him.

“She was just trying to be nice and I was being blunt and rude.” She hugged herself around the middle, looking at her brother for any hints of disappointment. But suspicion was still written on his face. “It’s true!”

“Okay, okay.” He sat back upright and put on a more serious expression. Flapjack made a soft trilling sound, making Hunter look from him to Luz. The tiny cardinal nodded encouragingly and the witch turned to his sister a little unsure. “Why were you being rude?”

“I don’t know.” Luz responded in surprise. She hadn’t expected that question, but it was definitely the right one to ask. Flap really was a wise old man in the shape of tiny bird. “Stress?”

“Why?” Hunter was glad Flapjack’s suggestion worked. His own instincts were to just comfort Luz, tell her that she couldn’t have been that horrible. Now he realised that wouldn’t make her feel better.

“Because!” Luz yelled, but more words wouldn’t come. Why was she stressed? She groaned. “Everything?!”

Flapjack flew onto her shoulder and chirped faintly. She couldn’t understand them but it sounded comforting.

“Again, not your fault, but this morning was a rollercoaster. And then I was scared I was gonna miss the school bus. But I also just didn’t want to go at all.” Luz became more anguished as the truth spilled out. “It’s already been 6 weeks! I have to go to school now. I’m wasting almost the entire day, while I should be making a portal! I should be getting you guys home!”

Luz’s feelings-avalanche was just as miserable as his own. Hunter wasn’t sure what to do know, so he resulted to following Flap’s lead. His palisman was still on Luz’s shoulder, gently rubbing his beak against her face. Hunter patted her head awkwardly. Luz laughed weakly.

“School is not a waste.” He tried jokingly, still coming up with something better to say.

“Human school is.” Luz pouted. She knew it was important, but it definitely didn’t feel like it. Hunter shrugged.

“I know it’s taken longer than we wanted, but you can’t lose hope.” He ruffled her hair and Luz ducked away. Flap jumped down to the table again, chirping his support for those words.

“I know and I’m not.” Luz said honestly, then she sighed. ”But I gotta get that portal working before I lose my girlfriend.”

“Calm down drama queen.” He laughed. “You and Amity are fine. The Boiling Sea would freeze over before you two break up.”

“But I don’t know how to apologise.” Luz whined. This was a big deal to her. She hated disappointing Amity like this. “I’ve been avoiding her since I got home.”

“Well that’s not smart.” He admitted, Luz gave him a grumpy look. He tried to ruffle her hair again, as he thought of a solution. A plan hatched in his brain. “You could take her on a date, to make it up to her.”

Luz lit up. His idea was absolutely perfect. The first time she’d taken Amity on a date in the human world, they both loved it. It was exactly the mundane, slice of life date she promised her. And it was awesome.

“That’s genius!” She looked at him excited. She would make this the most perfect date ever.

“I know, right?” Hunter said with a cocky smile and his palisman rolled his eyes.

She jumped up and sprinted back up the stairs, on all fours of course. She refused to use that thing like it was intended.

“Alright, bye!” He called after her. He laughed and shook his head as he went back to his sewing. Flapjack flapped his wings happily.

After just about 40 minutes, the armchair cover was done. He went upstairs to find Vee, so they could go to the shack and fix the chair for real. He found her in the living room. She was watching tv with Willow and Gus, all sprawled out on the couch with some snacks.

Their mission to go into town alone and buy those wires had apparently been intense. Gus had told him about something called a ‘plastic bag fee’ they didn’t know about. Which meant they didn’t have enough money. They had been scared to death about going to jail.

The poor cashier had tried to talk with Willow, but she insisted that they’d take the bags back. Gus had carried all the wires himself while Willow frantically pushed the money in the cashier’s hands. Then they escaped at breakneck speeds.

Hunter could only imagine the breakdown he’d have if he was in that situation. They had acclimated pretty well, but sometimes it was clear how foreign they really were. Luz was dearly missed on those missions.

“Hunter!” Gus greeted after hearing him approach. Willow and Vee turned around too and waved at him. “Welcome back to the upstairs world.”

“Hey guys.” He greeted back. He held up the fabrics he’d been working on for the past hours. “I’m done with the armchair thing.”

“Woah you already fixed it?” Vee slithered off the couch and over to examine his handiwork. She showcased it, so that the others could see it better.



“It looks great!” Willow commented and Gus nodded impressed.



“Thanks” He said sheepishly. He knew he still had a lot to learn, but it was nice to get compliments. Especially from her.

“Can you help me put it back on the chair?” He said to Vee. He was eager to complete his task and didn’t want to hang around for too long.

“Sure.” She agreed and they moved towards the hallway.



“Hey wait,” Gus stopped them in their tracks. “How’s the… uh- cheek situation?”

“It’s fine.” Hunter told him. All three of his friends looked at him with utter disbelief. “No really, I’ll probably take the bandages off soon.”

“If you need help, you know where to find me.” Willow said with a caring look in her eyes. Hunter could feel his ears catch fire just thinking about it, or just remembering this morning.

He was saved from having to form a response by Amity and Luz walking into the room, hand in hand. Hunter was happy to see it. Although, it seemed like he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

“Looks like the lovebirds are back to normal.” Willow said as she propped her arms over the back of the couch for a more comfortable talk.

Amity and Luz looked a little flustered, surprised that their friends had noticed. But they were also very happy to have overcome their brief awkwardness.

“I have a sneaking suspicion that Hunter had something to do with that.” Vee pointed finger guns at him. It was hard not to notice that both girls felt better after a conversation with him. The boy had a gift.

“Yeah, you might call me a relationships expert.” Hunter said sarcastically. Many people rightfully scoffed.

“You told a couple to go on a date.” Gus pointed out with a deadpan expression.

“Exactly, who could’ve thought of that?” He responded jokingly, grinning from ear to ear. Or ear to bandages in his case. It earned him a few laughs, but Luz saw her own opportunities.

“Fangs.” She pointed at his mouth, evil smirk and all.

“Stop!” Hunter covered it on instinct. His fear was short-lived, turning into annoyance as he glared at her. “This joke is getting old!”

“It’s not a joke, Hunter, it’s the truth!” Luz yelled passionately. Vee nodded in agreement. She used Hunter’s shoulder to jump up and ruffle his hair.

“Embrace your fangs!” The basilisk yelled with the same enthusiasm as their sister.

“They are teeth!” Hunter escaped her claws and made a break for the hallway. He was going to fix that armchair with or without her help. Vee decided it was with her help, changed into her human disguise, and went after him.

The girlfriends joined Gus and Willow on the couch. Cuddling as they settled, like the cuties they were. Gus was very glad they were back to normal as well. Besides, it reminded him of something. He turned to his bestie.

“If you need help, you know where to find me~” Gus repeated her words with an over-the-top sweet voice. Holding his hand elegantly under his chin and smirking.

Willow’s cheeks went pink. Her eyes dashed from the tv to her friend, completely caught off guard. She pushed Gus away as she tried to cool off her face.

He just couldn't pass up an opportunity to tease those two.

Willow had told him everything about this morning. She had been very flustered and he practically had to drag it out of her, but it worked. Gus knew all. And he was extremely salty that he had missed it.

#the owl house #toh #owl house #huntlow #fluff #love them so much #fanfic #grimwalker things #hunter noceda #willow park #hunter deamonne #hunter the owl house #noceda siblings #luz noceda #vee noceda #amity blight #lumity #camila noceda #gus porter #pittwins #hunter and vee are siblings #emerald trio #human realm #grimwalker

[redheadspark]

Hey hey! Happy weekend! Has anyone requested a 30 for Druig yet?

A/N - AWWWW, this is ideal for Druig! I love this, thank you for requesting this, anon!

Again

Summary - You and your husband find each other again after the near Emergence

Warnings - Just some fluff for our mind controller

He found you first, which always happened when it came to Druig.

After the near end of the world and almost seeing Tiamut come out from the surface, you were still drinking in that happened. It all happened so fast and quickly: one minute you were trying to figure out how to stop Tiamut and end the Emergence that could destroy the plenty, then Ikaris's betrayal against you all shocked you to your core. Then you all had to fight against him and Sprite to stop the Earth from being ripped apart.

Then there was silence, a surreal silence as you were back at Ajak's farmhouse in South Dakota.

Calmness was back again with your family, and the need to find other Eternals out in the vast open space was dire. Sire, a human Sprite, Kingo, and Phastos would stay on the plane. It left you, Druig, Makkari, and Thena to take the Domo on a search party for other Eternals that could be out there. There may not be any, but from what you've encountered with Arishem and Tiamut, you all couldn't leave it to chance.

You and Druig chose to go since there was nothing to return to when it came to the village in the Amazon. After having the village to yourselves for 500 years, you both knew deep down the people there could survive without either of you. There was no need to be there since they were never under mind control. Druig always let them make their own choices and decisions, and although some left throughout their time there, the rest stayed and flourished.

You stood outside of the farmhouse amongst the wildflowers, watching the massive plains of South Dakota and the Domo parked not too far away. The cooler air seemed to be nipping at your skin as you heard heavy boots coming up behind you. Although you didn't need to turn around, you knew who it was and a soft smile was on your lips. Calloused hands were on your arms, slowly wrapping around your waist to gently pull you against a hard but soothing chest along your backside.

"You okay?" You heard behind you, the low tremble of his voice was a calming balm for you as you nodded your head, "You seem lost,"

"Not lost, Druig," you replied, taking in a long breath as you heard his head pressed against yours while your eyes were scanning the plains in front of you, "Just....rethinking all that happened. How did we let get that bad?"

"It wasn't us," Druig reminded you as you felt him lace your fingers together against your belly, "We did what we had to do and we saved the world. The rest of it just....happened,"

You hummed, knowing that he was telling you the truth. There were things out of your control and out of your reach, even as an Eternal. When you and Druig walked away from the others after the disaster of Tenochtitlan 500 years ago, you both placed the rest of the world behind you and only focused on the village. You didn't mind it since you were with Druig, the one being that meant more to you than anything. It was as if the rest of the world melted away, and inwardly you craved that feeling again after dealing with so much these past few days.

"I really missed this," Druig confessed to you as he snuck a kiss against your cheek, "Just the pair of us and nothin' else to worry about,"

"Me too," You replied without a second thought, "I miss the jungle and being under the trees with you, waking up in your arms in the morning sun. But I'm just glad we're alive and here,"

You didn't mean to make it sound filled with remorse and sadness, but you were grateful that he was alive and breathing. Druig was so close to dying and leaving you on this planet alone, and to think of not having him there with you as he was for the past centuries would have killed you from the inside out.

Druig turned you in his arms, you going with him as he instantly kissed you soundly and deeply. You leaned into him, feeling him cradle you in his arms and push his love into his kiss. Druig loved you with all of him: through his words and through his actions. He would love you when he was gentle and he knew you needed the softer touch, and he would love you with passion and grit when he was swept at the moment.

In all the shades of his love, you drank it all in and felt it in your bones.

Druig pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours, you finding your breath again from one insane and intimate kiss he shared with you.

"I'm not goin' anywhere away from ya, and we're back together again as we should be, okay?" He said to you, sounding out of breath himself as you nodded against his head, "It's you and me until the end of our lives, I promise."

"I know, I know," you replied as you hugged him. The overwhelming feeling of love and relief that you were physically holding him in your arms and kissing him with your lips. You never wanted to think of the possibility of him not being in your life. Druig would never leave you behind, even before you two professed your love to one another and became lovers and later on a married couple.

You two would find each other again and again, it was fate and meant to be.

The End

Spring Prompt Session

#druig x female reader #druig x female reader #druig x oc #druig fluff #druig x reader #druig x eternal!reader #druig x y/n #druig x you #eternals spoilers #eternals fan writing #eternals fanfiction #druig eternals #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic fanfiction #marvel fanwriting #marvel fan writing #marvel fanfic writer #mcu writing #mcu phase 4 #mcu fanfiction

[usafphantom2]

How the Blue Angels convinced Tom Cruise to make the movie "Top Gun"

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 05/02/2024 - 00:03in Demonstration Squads, History, Military

It's hard to imagine a world without the Top Gun movie. Aviation lovers watch at least once a year, despite the banality of the 80s, because the flight scenes are as cool now as they were more than 30 years ago. The best talents were hired to ensure a successful production, but the star of the film needed to be convinced by the Blue Angels to finally decide to become Maverick.

In another fantastic interview with Ryan Notthaft on Blue Angel Phantoms on YouTube, the Blue Angel pilot who piloted Tom Cruise, Curt "Griz" Watson, talks about his experience.

When reading the script alone, Cruise didn't find it funny. He was a serious actor who was still standing out, and there was a lot of apprehension about how the audience would receive an aviation film. Because the truth is that no aviation movie was really a big box office success before Top Gun.

But the producers knew they had a winner. They considered Top Gun as "Star Wars on Earth", inspired by a story years earlier in California Magazine. But Cruise initially did not share his vision, nor did many producers before Paramount. They had no real characters or stories, just cool jets.

"When I first read it, I thought they had a very limited story and script," Cruise recalled in an old behind-the-scenes article about the production of the film, which you can watch at this link. "I thought so, I don't know about it."

In a final desperate attempt to convince Cruise to join, producer Jerry Bruckheimer called Navy Admiral Peter Garrow, asking Cruise of the Navy to convince him to make the film. Garrow, of course, called the Blues Angels with the orders.

Grizz exceeded Cruise's expectations very well on the team's No. 7 jet, an A-4 Skyhawk. With a bag full of vomit, Cruise was hooked and his love affair with aviation began. When he landed he walked to the nearest public phone, called Bruckheimer and said "I do this".

But he was not satisfied only with the flight on the A-4 of the Blue Angels. After all, Mav is an F-14 Tomcat pilot. So Cruise requested flight time on the F-14 as part of his character's development. What made perfect sense. Cruise even put this in his contract. The producers and the Navy happily accommodated him.

His first F-14 flight also hit him in the head. Your pilot, indicative of call Bozo, put him in a difficult situation. You can watch the interview above about some of these flights, or better yet, watch the video here where Cruise and Bozo talk about it.

He loved piloting the F-14 so much that he even told his pilots "let's film these scenes and then tear everything apart. I'll evaluate you about who is the best driver." Each pilot wanted to know how his other pilots fared and then competed to see who could kick Tom's ass harder.

Cruise has been in love with flying since then. He is now a talented pilot, certified for various types of aircraft. He also owns a World War II P-51 Mustang fighter.

Source: AvGeekery

Tags: Blue AngelsDouglas A-4 SkyhawkHISTORYTop GunUSN - United States Navy/U.S. Navy

Sharing

tweet

Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

Related news

MILITARY

United States will send the aircraft carrier George Washington to the coast of Argentina

03/02/2024 - 20:04

HISTORY

Team of researchers may have found Amelia Earhart's plane

03/02/2024 - 12:48

MILITARY

UAS Aerosonde of Textron Systems performs operational flight from a Coastal Combat Ship

30/01/2024 - 14:00

HISTORY

14 years ago, I fled the first Su-57 (PAK FA)

29/01/2024 - 23:10

HISTORY

75 YEARS OF AIR DOMAIN: a chronological history of U.S. fighters

28/01/2024 - 21:45

MILITARY

IMAGES: U.S. Navy completes V-22 Osprey sea tests aboard HMS Prince of Wales

26/01/2024 - 09:00

#Youtube

[astorythatwritesitself]

Re-intro time? Re-intro time

About Me & This Blog:

• Paine. Queer, 30, any pronouns. I follow back from dr-paine!

• Writing for 20+ years in some capacity

• Genre of choice is Fantasy. (High, low, slice of life or ungodly horror, mixed with sci-fi or the most classic Medieval sword and sorcery bullshit, I just need a touch, even if only implied, of magic.) I don't delve much into NSFW but it may come up; in any case: please only follow if you're 18+, and treat this blog with the mindset of 'creator chose not to use archive warnings'.

• I crave interaction, especially via tag/ask games - seriously. I reblog a lot of them. Do Not Hesitate. (And I always try to send an ask if you reblog any from me!)

• Hobbyist writer - I'm not aiming to be published, but I do want to improve my skills and eventually like... 'win a NaNo' in the sense of writing a complete, longform story one of these days. But also having fun is a priority, and ADHD + work is a cruel mistress, so I'll jump between WIPs on a whim, or just. Drop shit for months on end lol.

Vague List of Active Projects

While I have a ton of ideas, these are the ones that actually have like... any sort of substance to them, whether it's actual words or just a solid outline + desire to work on it. Each will eventually get a dedicated links/resource post, but for now, here's the basics!

Relentless As The Tide

(Mass Effect fics (roughly) following canon events/characters)

Adrian Shepard has been primed for heroism her entire life. Her first chance ended in a tragedy, one neither she nor the Alliance has ever properly owned up to. Saren's betrayal and the beacon's vision offer her the chance to atone for her failure at Akuze, and she'll do everything in her power to do so - even (and especially) if it kills her in the process.

Or so she believes - but uncovering the truth means looking for allies, and the more she gathers, the harder it becomes to believe that her death should - or can - be the end; and that perhaps heroism is just a means of distraction from confronting her own demons.

Unnamed Pokemon Project

(Loose follow through/retelling of Pokemon: Soul Silver)

Giovanni Rossi, former leader of the Viridian City pokemon gym, has confessed to heading the infamous Rocket organization, whose poaching and illegal trade has devestated the Kanto ecosystem for the past twenty years. However, he claims it was all for a good cause - just prior to founding Rocket, Giovanni had been part of a team trying to create artificial pokemon... and their most viable subject escaped. Rocket existed for the sake of tracking down and eventually overpowering this creature, but now... well, he wishes those in the Kanto and Johto regions the best of luck.

Following a break in at the New Bark Town lab, an assistant to Professor Elm - a reclusive young man named Linden - tracks down the suspect, only to find it's none other than Silver Rossi, Giovanni's own son. The boy claims he wants to take down the creature his father helped create and clear his own name from the scandal... and Linden has reasons of his own that make him want to see how things play out, even if it means he must shadow Silver's journey by embarking on one of his own.

Unnamed OC Project

(Original fantasy work)

In a world of faded magic, Elora Ryba cares little for talk of soon-to-come saviors or the sightings of dragons. No, she has other things on her mind - return to the town she was forced to leave over ten years ago, and steal its most precious treasure. And, ideally, marry her, as Elora promised that night she was forced to flee.

Which is why Elora's spent the past month searching for a priest corrupt enough to join a pirate's crew, but not corrupt (or worse, moral) enough to turn her in, and she thinks she's finally found one.

#writeblr #writeblr intro #hi i have a lot of emotions over lizards

[howlyourmelancholy]

Como La Flor

summary: in which you receive a bouquet of flowers

warnings: a smidge of angst & fluff. older remus & reader (like in their late 20s or early 30s).

words: 408.

notes: i have a bad attention span and have no excuse for why this is out before the new emaila x sirius one shot. what i can say is that i've been listening to this song on repeat for two days, and it partly inspired this drabble.

It was your birthday, and after ten years, he still remembered it.

As you looked down at the beautiful arrangement of flowers—orange dahlias, your absolute favourite—you felt overwhelmed with emotions. Tears danced upon your lashline as you thumbed one of the velvety-soft petals, blurring your vision and stinging in the back of your throat as you tried to hold them back.

Ten years, you thought.

Some days it seemed like a lifetime ago, and other days it seemed as though it all happened only yesterday. You’d met Remus at Hogwarts in your fifth year, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His intense eyes and mop of wild brown hair, his effortless charisma, and the air of mystery about him—you'd happily danced into his fire.

In your teenage eyes, Remus was the personification of perfection. You had been completely enamoured with the boy, utterly and hopelessly in love with him, right up until you graduated from Hogwarts.

You'd spent countless nights in his embrace, loving him, comforting him, and just being with him. The world around you ceased to exist during those stolen nights, as if it were just the two of you against the universe. And then the real world settled around you, and that love slowly faded until, eventually, the two of you went your separate ways.

It hadn’t happened for any rhyme or reason. There had been no fighting or cheating, no horrible intent behind a terrible motive. It would have been easier if there had been an explanation; you could have been angry and moved on easier, but the absence of ill intentions only added to the bittersweetness of your breakup.

The truth was that you and Remus had simply grown as people, and in the process, you'd grown apart. You'd had your friends; he’d had his own. He pursued his interests, while you chased your own. You had less time for him, and he had less time for you. Life had taken you in different directions.

But somehow your thoughts always came back to that wild-haired boy you had met and loved at Hogwarts. You couldn’t help but wonder where he was and what he was doing now. Had he found happiness—someone to take your place, someone to share his life with? You hoped that he had, even if a part of your soul still longed for the connection you'd once shared.

You hoped that he was happy.

You really did.

#remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n

[fabuloustrash05]

So out of pure curiosity, do you have any headcannons for salamandrian culture and salamander characters (Newtralizer, Sal Commander, Mona Lisa). There isn't much info about these people and I'm curios

I’ve talk about a few ideas from time to time in other posts of mine but never got to fully explain them, so here’s some HCs I have of the Salamandrians from TMNT 2012.

Mona is 2 years older than Raph (so Casey’s age of 17), Sal Commander and Splinter are the same age (50s), and Newtralizer and Tiger Claw are the same age (30s)

The Salamandrians are an honorable warrior race. They live to fight in battle, so much so that they recruit young children into their armies. They live by a simple rule: “If you can walk you can train and if you can train you can fight”. 

Mona, Sal and Newt all joined their militaries at young ages. Joining the military and earning high ratings of lieutenant or commander is considered very normal and common on their planet. Ex: Mona was promoted to lieutenant when she was only 14 years old

Salamandrians have massive appetites, they get hungry and can eat a lot (think of it like Saiyan appetites from Dragon Ball)

They are very literal, metaphors and puns will go over their head.

Their “Rokka Rokka” is more of a verbal tic than being truly apart of their language. The tic usually comes out when a Salamandrian experiences great/intense emotion (excitement, rage, etc)

They don’t celebrate birthdays. They see no point. To Salamandrians their logic is: "Why celebrate your birth? Congratulations, you survived another year! What a waste of time!" Because of this, characters like Mona Lisa don’t know when her birthday is.

Millions of years ago, Salamandrians used to hunt and eat Kraang, back then known as Utrom. Though over the course of history they evolved and peace grew between the two species, that doesn’t stop a Salamandrian from still have a desire to consume one (we’ve seen Newtralizer do it and Mona has even threatened to eat one)

The Salamandrains only ever got involved in a war against the Triceratons because the Triceratons were at war with the Kraang. The Salamandrians found it insulting that an equally powerful race like the Triceratons were at war with a weaker alien race instead of them, a more powerful and stronger opponent. They saw it as an insult on their honor and declared war with the Triceratons to prove that they are a more worthy opponent than the Kraang. So basically Salamandrians started a war with the Triceratons because they’re petty.

Marriage does not exist on Salamandria. Instead when you come of age you are set up in a matchmaking process, using statistics and skill sets (strength, intelligence, etc), you are match with your “mate” with the goal to create a strong offspring to one day assist in the planet’s military. It is seen more as a business deal than actual compatibility and love. Only rarely do matches actually end up falling in love and stay together and continue to make more offspring.

For Mona Lisa, she was matched with three different suitors, but they were all disgraceful in their own way, seeing her as a trophy for them to brag about (because she has such a high ranking honorable status in the military). Mona knew this very well so she rejected them, and with three rejected suitors Monas reputation in matchmaking was badly damaged and she was known as the unwanted prize. It wasn’t until she met Raph, who was a man who saw her own person and respected/loved her for who she was.

For Sal Commander, when he was a young man, he too was matched, and in truth he fell in love with his mate, but sadly she never reciprocated those feelings. Despite that, she agree to go through with being his mate and they had a child together. Shortly after the child was born, Sal’s mate left him and a few short years later Sal’s child died in combat at a young age. 

Over his years in the military Newtralizer grew to love fighting in battles just like any Salamandrian, but he began to enjoy it more than others to an extreme level. He yearned to kill and spill blood during times of peace, something that disturbed many of his comrades, including Sal. Desperate for more battles, Newtrailzer made a deal with Lord Dregg to become his personal assassin just so he could continue his sick trill of killing. For years Newt did this secret job on the side but one day Sal discovered the dark true of his friend and pupil.

Fighting in battle is traditional for Salamandrians, but willing killing and harming innocent with out a cause was disgraceful. That’s what Newtralizer did, and when his dark secret was discovered he attacked and nearly kill Sal Commander and fled Salamandria to avoid his trial for his crimes.

Also, if anyone’s curious, here’s a list I put together of canon facts about Salamandrians according to the show >> LINK

#bunnyfoxu #asks #answered #fabtrash headcanons #tmnt headcanons #tmnt 2012 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt mona lisa #sal commander #Newtralizer #salamandrian #tmnt raphael

[attackfish]

Hi! Do you have any atla fic recs?

Here are the seventeen best fics in the Avatar fandom, and I swear this list is totally not just the favorites of one person whose choices are completely subjective and entirely based on personal preference. Yeah so these are my personal faves, your milage may vary.

"Who by Fire" by Kaberett: [Link]

There was precedent, of course, for succession in the event of the untimely demise of the incumbent ruler. Between political intrigue, ambition and necessity - and these qualities have never been in short supply within the ruling classes of the Fire Nation - history contains no shortage of examples. Deposal in the absence of bloodshed, however, is another matter entirely: and more so when the Heir Apparent is the banished prince, who has, contrary to every expectation, found the Avatar and brought him home.

"Enslaved" by Sharkflip: [Link]

A triumphant war party returns with an exotic slave, a gift for the ruling house. Multi-chapter, Katara/Zuko

"Eight Principles of Yong" by Psocoptera: [Link]

The pen is mightier than the sword, or how Zuko saves the day via the power of good penmanship.

"Five Ways Toph Created Her Own Family (Whether She Liked It or Not)" by Lady Ganesh [Link]

The title is the summary.

"Tea with Destiny" by @awesomeavocadolove [Link]

After the shock of Lu Ten's death, Iroh makes a fateful journey into the Spirit World. The tea there is exquisite, but the company may give Iroh a run for his money.

"Without a Fight" and "Never Give Up" by @suzukiblu [Link] and [Link]

Thirteen years old and alone in the Earth Kingdom, thrown out of his life and family and destiny with the burn on his face still raw and new, Zuko does not want to go on. Song/Zuko

"Gilded Green" by @caelum-blue [Link]

At the end of Iroh's Siege, the Dai Li decide to test their brainwashing abilities on a Fire Nation soldier. They don't know that their guinea pig-rat happens to be a supposedly-dead prince. Multi-chapter and multi-part

"Til Death Do Us Start" by @loopy777 [Link]

Mai's parents arrange a marriage for her. The first problem is that she's been dead for fifteen years, and the second problem is that her husband isn't who anyone is expecting. Mai/Sokka

"The Airbending Master" by @liz-squids [Link]

Teaching airbenders is not the same as restoring the Air Nomads

"In Which Mai and Toph Are Not Remotely Ladylike" by @liz-squids [Link]

Mai and Toph drink too much, talk too much, engage in petty vandalism. Their mothers would be horrified.

"Drink Some Fucking Tea" by @unjapanologist [Link]

A parody of 'Go the Fuck to Sleep'. During season one, Iroh unloads some frustrations about his beloved nephew that he can't very well voice out loud.

"Red is the Color of the End of the World" by @sholiofic [Link]

Post-series, Katara is adjusting to the new shape of the world. They all are.

"Chromatism" by @glamaphonic [Link]

Ty Lee is soiled and unclean and bursting with color.

"Life Began With Waking Up" by @glamaphonic [Link]

It was a simple truth that Mai had never really thought about her children. Mai/Zuko

"His and Her Circumstances" by Lavanya Six: [Link]

AU. Two years ago, it's believed the Fire Lord exiled Prince Zuko to distance himself from responsibility for his son's subsequent assassination. Five months from now, a boy in an iceberg will awaken. Tonight, Mai runs across a masked criminal. Mai/Zuko

"Escapee" by @liz-squids [Link]

So you're a traitor. Now what? AU from "The Boiling Rock" where Mai and Ty Lee escape with the others. Mai/Zuko

Unnamed ficlet #4 by @liz-squids [Link]

The AU where Azula never found out Zuko and Iroh were in Ba Sing Se, and 16 years later, the Fire Nation has won the war, and Mai is the governor of Ba Sing Se, and she and Zuko have an awkward 30-something reunion. Mai/Zuko, past Jin/Zuko.

#posts i created #avatar the last airbender #do you want to ask a question it doesn't have to be a question

[raigash]

Gone Cold

Whumptober 2023 Days 16 (Don’t go where I can’t follow.”) and 30 (“Not much longer…”)

It’s been a long time since I’ve written, and even longer since I’ve posted, but this piece has been haunting me for a good little while now. Allow me to more formally introduce you to Robbie, my roaming Professer with a bleeding heart, and many, many millennia beneath his belt. All those years don’t make saying goodbye any easier

Despite his best efforts, Robbie cannot stop his hands from shaking as he takes up the whistling tea pot from the stove. The coughing from the bedroom, brittle and thin though it may be, thunders through his chest like an earthquake. He feels like a building condemned, ready to let nature have its way. To give in to the tremors and just…allow himself to collapse back into the sticks and the dust. But he can’t.

Not yet, anyway.

So he simply clutches the heated porcelain tighter in an effort not to drop it. The pressure, the burning against his palms brings unnamed nausea welling to the surface. Old scars crying out to be recalled in the looming shadow of a bloody and inescapable sunset. Their screams are muted, though, as he goes about preparing the cup to steep, and twists the fox-shaped kitchen timer to the correct time absentmindedly.

Nothing is as loud as the coughing. Not even his own heartbeat, thumping cruelly in his ears.

It feels as though it takes hours for the chime to go off. While he waits, Robbie finds his gaze lingering on the chipped blue porcelain of the cup, and his aching heart and mind drift. Fifty five years, seven months, two weeks, and three days ago, that cup found a home in their pantry. An anniversary present, handmade and hand painted, and cherished day after passing day.

What would become of it now? Would it, too, be shattered and lost amongst the pile of shards that makes up his world?

When the shrill sound finally pierces the momentary silence, Robbie jolts, smacking a hand down on it harder than he meant to. He winces at the resulting thump, closing his eyes tightly for a second to take a deep breath. He has to get himself together. Now is no time for him to act a fool.

Now is no time at all

He draws a steadying breath, trying to bind his splintering pieces back together with sensible words as he removes the apple shaped tea infuser and sets it aside. This day was always going to come. From the very first time he caught those beautiful amber eyes gazing back into his own, Robbie knew he would one day have to say goodbye to them.

That doesn’t make moving his feet any easier. They feel as though they’re made of lead. All of him does, in fact, and the task of walking around the cluttered little island to make his way out of the kitchen feels Herculean.

As though he’s the one whose soul is slowly peeling away from its mortal husk

After far too long and all too quickly, all at once, Robbie finds himself at the doorway to the bedroom. The curtains have been pulled back to allow the sunlight to fall upon the bed where his husband lay, nestled in blankets and cushions to ease the encroaching chill. Bathed in golden hues and paling in life’s twilight hours, Silvio looks absolutely ethereal. Beautiful, always, in every way.

He has very little time to observe this scene before his presence is noted, and that gentle smile knocks him off his feet the way it always does. Even now.

Especially now.

Far too soon, that smile is disrupted by a rattling cough that shakes his beloved’s shoulders, and leaves him gasping for air. When he regains his composure, he is still calm, but there is an air of somberness that has returned to him. Truths are truths, no matter how painful they are to learn.

“Not much longer, mi corazón,” Silvio murmurs softly, face drawn into a gentle frown as pulls himself into a sitting position. He is a haunting sight, thin and sallow against the plush bed they had shared for years, and Robbie feels the claws of darkness digging into his lungs voraciously. It was cruel.

This was cruel

His eyes suddenly burn with the tears he had been fighting off since they had realized that today would be the day. Trembling fingers clench the innocent saucer with a punishing grip as he closes his eyes against the coming flood, turning his head in shame. He should be better at this. Silvio is looking at him as though he’s the one dying.

I am. I die every time. I will die with you, too.

He should be better at this, but he never is. And the guilt at his ineptitude wracks him alongside the tidal waves of grief threatening to drown him. But then a rattling wheeze reminds him that he is wasting precious time. Priceless time. So Robbie opens his tear-filled eyes and turns back to meet his heart’s worried gaze. Just watching, never pushing, even with so little time left. There is pain written in the deep lines of his aged brow, and there is a creeping dullness overtaking the once vibrant gold of his all-seeing eyes.

What will he do, without those eyes to see him when he can’t seem to see himself? What will he do without those hands to hold in the darkness? Forever, as it always does in these moments, feels like a twisted joke. What is forever without the man he wants to spend it beside?

He doesn’t realize that he hasn’t responded until Silvio prompts him again, this time with a pat of his hand against the empty space on the bed. “The tea, cariño. You know how I hate it to go cold.”

And just like that, in a burst of painful light, his beloved pierces the night hovering heavy above them. A laugh, true and desperate, bubbles up from Robbie’s lungs as he shakes his head. His northern star always, a light in the dark and the shadows he was so prone to wander through. The black hole will devour him, soon. But for now, there is still warmth and light to be found in Silvio’s smile.

And so he does as he’s bid, crossing the room to stand at the bedside of the man holding the entirety of his brittle heart in cooling hands. Offering the cup quietly, his eyes mindlessly find a spot on the wall to latch onto to stop them from endlessly tracing the lines over tired skin. He doesn’t look down when the tea is removed from his hands, or when the first sip is taken.

It’s not until a hum of approval reaches his ears that he gives in to the gravity pulling at him, and turns his gaze downwards. Silvio is smiling, his eyes closed to savor the taste the way he always does with his first sip, and the sight tugs at the swiftly unraveling strings of his heart. This will be the last time he sees this in anything other than the theater of his mind, and he doesn’t know how to cope with that.

This is the last time he will serve his beloved the tea that he drinks more frequently than water. The last time he will cross the threshold of their bedroom to find him strewn across the bed in the light of the sun. The last times their hands will brush as he hands off the cup he may never have the strength to drink from again.

The last time for so many things, and he hadn’t even bothered to look.

The last time. His lungs feel paralyzed, his chest tight as a bowstring. A small sound escapes him as he tries to find words, tries to find breath, tries to find purchase. But everything is pitch black, and slick with blood still yet to be shed, and he keeps slipping back down the slope of despair he’s trying so desperately to climb.

He can’t do this.

A gentle clank tells him that Silvio has set his cup down, and his unconscious assessment is proven right when gentle hands find his arms and guide him down to sit on the bed as well. The intensity of the emotions coursing through him makes him shiver, and he hates how pathetic he is right now. But he is given a hand to hold onto, and is pulled close to the thin frame of the man he must soon say goodbye to.

The gasps of anguish wrenching themselves from deep within his chest have no words to them. Just a dark, nebulous pain that aims to swallow him whole. He thought he was ready. He thought he could do this

He can’t. He can’t do this. He’s never been able to do this. He feels like he’s crumbling apart from the inside out. And even when he’s broken down to the foundations, he won’t be free from time’s cruel procession. He will be stuck, nursing the wounds left behind by a soul he would have followed into the darkness, if only he could. It’s not fair.

“Don’t go where I can’t follow you,” the brokenhearted Professer sobs without thinking, clutching the hand of his fading lover like driftwood in a hurricane. He knows it’s unfair, knows his husband has no way of granting him this relief, and guilt grips him even more tightly once the words have passed his lips. He tips his head against their joined hands, unable to look into the eyes that have always seen him far too well as he tries to get himself back under control.

It’s no use. Even behind closed eyelids, Robbie can feel that knowing gaze settling against his skin. Silvio gives him a moment to collect himself, but when it’s clear his partner doesn’t intend to pick his head up, he clears his throat gently. It’s a frail sound, and doesn’t really get the attention he’s looking for. But he doesn’t stop there.

“Robito,” that frail voice chastises, cutting through the storm clouds once more, and drawing him back to the ground. That stern gentleness finally forces Robbie to open his eyes once more, only to have his breath stolen away by what he sees. He can feel the night falling over his lover’s soul. The song it sings is ebbing away to silence faster than he can prepare for.

But in its wake, Silvio is radiant. Eyes shining with depth of emotion and understanding no longer barred by mortal perception, skin standing strong and defiant against the march of decay. It is in this moment that Robbie remembers why he cannot stay away, no matter how much it breaks his heart.

He will remember this for the rest of his days. The miracle he witnessed deserves nothing less.

When their gazes meet, both so tired, there is a lifetime in the lines between. His beloved smiles, fond and longsuffering, and reaches across to brush an errant tear from Robbie’s cheek. The touch lingers, and he can’t help but lean into it for what may be the last time. There is apology and gratitude, joy and desolation coursing between their skin, unspoken, but ringing loud as a bell.

And then Silvio begins to speak. The lecture is soft, and interrupted by spells of damning, rattling hacks that force him to begin again no less than three times, but it rings with truth so profound that Robbie is left speechless for one of the few times in his incredibly long life.

“How many times have you traveled where I could only dream to have gone? How many stories of your roaming have we shared? You have given me longer than a lifetime, mi amor. And in all things, you have taught me, above all else, to look to the future with excitement.”

Robbie can tell the effort of keeping himself from coughing is winding him, can see it in the fluttering of his chest peeking out from beneath his nightshirt.

He doesn’t comment on it, though. His mouth feels sewn shut. As if sensing the avalanche of emotion within his husband’s chest, Silvio uses his free hand to take one of Robbie’s, and to hold it tight.

“And so I do here, too. And I ask you to do the same for me. You cannot follow me on this journey. But one day, I will see you on the other side. And then for once, I will have a story to tell you.” The ending is delivered with a gentle humor that breathes air back into his lungs, and pulls from him a little sob of a laugh. He has to close his eyes for a second against the stab of pain in his chest, waiting for it to fade, to mellow out into a deep-seated ache that he will nurse for years to come. He cannot follow Silvio into the veil. But he can carry their memories for the two of them, until they meet again.

A gentle kiss from chapped lips placed on his forehead stirs him to reopen his eyes again, and to take in his lover in full. Stronger and wiser than he could ever be, with so little time. He’s such a fool in comparison.

How am I going to do this without you?

Slowly. Painfully. Unendingly. This unbearable ache will dull into a scar just as memorable as the ones scored across his skin, and he will remember it for the rest of his days. He will go on limping into eternity through every broken heart and broken bone, because he has to. He has no choice

As if sensing the dark spiral in Robbie’s head- as well as the encroaching exhaustion in himself, Silvio gives their hands a little squeeze. “One more story for the road, mi coraźon. Will you read for me?” It has the intended effect of spooking the despondent professer out of his own mind and back into reality again, and with a smile, he can’t help but admiring just how handsome his husband really is when he’s distracted.

They are lucky to have found each other in this life. He can only hope that one day their paths will cross again.

“I…can do that, my heart,” Robbie replies after a moment, having to swallow around the lump in his throat. His heart is beating faster as he feels the change coming on, another cruel irony to dig claws into his flesh. The book is where it always is, and he pulls it from the nightstand drawer full of prescriptions that rattle like requiem bells. Night is falling. And it’s time for one last bedtime story.

He takes his spot half-sitting on the bed, pulling on the little lamp that sits beside them for extra light. His heart feels like a stone suspended in his chest as he opens the book, trying with all his might to tame his sorrows before he has to speak aloud. Once, then twice he clears his throat, until his beloved turns worried eyes up at him, and he wants to kick himself. He opens the book, and feels the worn leather crease beneath his fingertips.

Only one word leaves his lip before a cool hand touches his writs, gentle and plying. He can’t look away from the page, or he’ll start to cry again. Luckily for him, Silvio seems to know this. And he doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement before he speaks once more.

“Take the time to say goodbye to me properly before you run, Conjejito. Take with you what pieces of me you need, and give the rest of me back to the world that you love so dearly. Allow yourself to weep, my love. But smile, when your eyes are dry. Tell me goodbye. But remember to tell me hello again when the sun rises over the grass. I will watch you from the skies, and hold you tight through the wind’s embrace. I will never leave you, My Robbie. And you will never be apart from me.”

This…does not help his attempts at keeping his composure. But Silvio does not mind, laying back against the pillows arranged for this purpose. The soothing timbre of Robbie’s voice carries him through the worst of the aches as he feels sleep tugging at his weakened bones. He closes his eyes, and allows himself to smile as he fades into a final dream.

Robbie is not brave enough to look down for a long time. He continues to read and sob simultaneously, one story becoming two, and then four, until his hands are shaking so bad he drops the book on his lap by mistake.

The dam breaks as the silent stillness of the bed registers to him at last.

Later tonight, he will dig a grave under the willow tree near the lake where they first met. Tomorrow, he will clean the house, and begin to stitch up his shredded heart.

Right now, Robbie cries himself to sleep holding the cold hand of a lover he could not carry with him into his inescapable forever. On the bedside table, the chipped blue mug sits silently, lavender tea long since gone cold

Tag List: @lektricwhump @salamancialilypad @tormentum-ab-intra @whumptober

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the list!

#whumptober 2023 #no.16 #no.30 #Don’t go where I can’t follow #Not much longer… #my characters #original content #Raigash writing #fic #original characters #character death #grief #immortal whumpee #mortal partner #emotional whump #Robbie is not having a good time #but he will survive #he always does :)