#i have more art pertaining to him somehow

[butterbolted-automaton]

love that we as a spg society are drawing the babclocks now xox

#my art #steam powered giraffe #spg #taggart bablock #i have more art pertaining to him somehow

[smileysuh]

Big Bear & Bee

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You swallow thickly, leaning back against Johnny while you gain your courage. You know he’s not the type to force anything on you, and something tells you that if you don’t make this first move, you might miss your chance. Turning in his arms, you look up into the bear hybrid's chocolate brown eyes. Then you’re kissing him, putting all the passion that’s been brewing into the meeting of your lips. You thread your fingers through his soft hair, eager to get close to him, closer than you’ve ever been before.

tw/cw. protected sex, multiple positions (girl on top/missionary), pussy eating, praise, dirty talk, bear hybrid x human, fingering, overstim, size kink, big dick!Johnny, pussy stretching, slow burn, mentions of baby/child fever, sex while she wears a dress, etc... I pet names: (hers) bee, princess, gorgeous. (his) John, Big Bear.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.9k

🍭 aus. hybrid, bear/uncle!Johnny, human/honey shop worker!y/n, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. huge thank you to @sehunniepot for helping me through writing this and being my beta reader- Nikki is truly one of my best friends, and if you haven't already checked out her writing, she's got John fics for days - her Olympian Johnny is one of my favorite fics ever 💕

As a bear hybrid, Johnny has been in many honey shops in his life. He’s frequented hole-in-the-wall mama and papa honey selling places. He’s visited corporate brand locations so big and full of different types of honey that they made his head spin. He’s even given a chance to side of the road, farm fresh honey sellers. 

Even with all of this experience, there’s only one place that he’s truly come to love, and that’s Queen B’s Honey Company. 

Nestled between an ice cream parlour and a fifties style salon on an old street on the side of town, near the farming district, Queen B’s has a certain charm that’s always scratched Johnny’s honey itch just right. 

With soft cream coloured walls, and touches of old wood that line the space in shelves and fill the room with various display tables, the store is somewhere between scandi and revitalized farm aesthetic, a style that Johnny adores.

Housing a wide array of honey, in sticks, jars, canisters and tubs, the honey shop has everything a bear like John could ever need, and that’s not even including all the hand made pottery that sits on the top shelves. Plants are speckled here and there, adding a floral scent to the sweetness in the air that’s inherent to the Queen B establishment. 

There’s art too, all somehow relating to honey, and everywhere you look, there’s a recurring theme of bees and bears. 

It’s a tale as old as time - the bears and the bees -  and one that has always immediately brought the hybrid an indescribable sense of peace.

Even with all of this, however, Johnny’s favourite part about the store has to be the kind workers that calmly bustle around, always quick to lend a hand or ask how his day is going. Specifically, you draw Johnny in like no amount of honey ever could, and he’s pleased to arrive at the store once a week to often find you working.

Johnny might be a big shot club owner and entrepreneur by night, but by day - especially in the comfort of Queen B’s - Johnny sees himself as more of a calm dude just trying to support a local business. Despite his attraction to you, he’d hate to put himself out there and make you uncomfortable - at your workplace no less - so in the months he’s been frequenting your establishment, your short interactions have only ever pertained to honey, and he can live with that. 

The front bell chimes softly as Johnny enters Queen B’s, and Johnny meets your smile with a grin of his own. “Good morning!” you call out, a common greeting that still somehow makes his heart beat loudly in his chest.

“Hi,” he nods, breaking your gaze to inspect the front display, where all your store’s new products are laid out like candy in a candy shop for the honey-loving bear hybrid.

He tries to be nonchalant, but as the only person in the store, Johnny knows he’s captured your attention. There are days when he’s one of a handful, and you often take care of those who’ve come before him, only to head his way and ask if there’s anything you can help him find. Today, he has all your attention, and it takes effort for him not to watch you approach.

There’s something about the soft yellow apron that you always wear, or the yellow scrunchies and ribbons in your hair. Your white t-shirt and blue jean ensemble under your work apron is just as much a part of the beautiful colour scheme, and there’s no three colours in the world that Johnny likes together more than cream, honey, and denim blue, especially on you. 

“We’ve got new honey sticks,” you tell him, as you come to join him by the front display. He loves how you know what he normally buys, that you remember him so well. 

“I see that,” he nods, sneaking a glance up at you. “Are they any good?”

You nod. “Very good, at least, I think so.” You begin to tell him where the honey is sourced - from a local apiary - and the way that the honey sticks are naturally flavoured with the seasonal blackberries, raspberries and other such ingredients that grow in the surrounding area, all organic of course. 

Johnny listens, although half of his mind is much more pleasantly occupied watching your lips. The way you speak has always enchanted the bear hybrid, and he’s more than happy to watch you work hard to give him all the information you can.

“Sounds good,” Johnny says when you’re done. “I might just have to get five of each.”

“I can prepare that for you if you’d like to continue looking around,” you smile. “We also restocked the blackberry honey jars from Overgrove Apiary. I know we were out last week and you got something else, so…well, I called our merchandiser over there and got a new batch just yesterday.”

You're a woman after his own heart…and maybe also his money, but Johnny can never tell if your interest in him is beyond that of a professional. 

“Thanks, I really appreciate that,” Johnny tells you honestly, watching you begin to collect five of each honey stick into a simple brown paper bag for him. 

“Don’t mention it,” you say softly. “Anything for a regular.”

He wonders again if that’s all he is to you, a regular, and Johnny finds himself putting his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, fiddling with the golden ring on his thumb. “It’s nice to be taken care of,” he says finally.

Your eyes meet, and you’re quick to look away, but the soft smile on your face is enough to make Johnny’s heart race again. 

“Is there anything else I can help you with today? Or just the honey sticks and blackberry jar?” 

“I think this is good for now,” he tells you, following when you immediately turn to head to the till. 

It’s a nice silence as he watches you check everything through the system, and when you give him the total, he pulls out his soft, brown leather wallet from his back pocket. He always pays in cash, and despite the fact that he never asks for change, opting to give you a tip that goes into the tip jar, you still ask if he’d like the coins back.

It’s one of Johnny’s joys of the week to tell you, “keep the change,” as he reaches for his brown paper bag of goodies.

“Can I-” your voice draws his eyes, and he wonders what you might ask him. This is not part of your normal interactions, and he holds his breath waiting to see what might come of it. “Never mind, it’s probably a stupid question.”

“Good thing I like stupid questions,” he assures you, giving you the space to continue.

“I was just-” you take a deep breath. “I’ve looked into certain hybrids like yourself enjoying honey, and Winnie The Pooh always told me that bears like honey, but you can’t always rely on cartoons, can you?” Johnny chuckles at the idea. “As a regular, I was thinking maybe I could ask you about your personal experience with our products?” 

“That’s a good question,” Johnny says, thinking about it for a moment. “You know my affinity for the blackberry honey - I’ve always had a sweet tooth - but in truth, all the honey sticks are for my niece. She’s the real addict in the family.”

“Really?” Your eyes have widened, and Johnny thinks it’s possible you’ve never been prettier than this moment. “I always- I mean, in the months you’ve been coming in, I just always assumed the honey sticks were for you-”

“Easy mistake,” he smiles.  

“You’ve never come in with your niece,” you point out.

Johnny nods, looking around the perfect store. “Yeah. There’s a lot of expensive stuff in here, the pottery, the displays- I didn’t want to bring her in and be a bother so usually I pick stuff up before going to grab her from her school. It’s my day to babysit,” he explains, “and it’s nice to start it off with a little goodie bag.”

He goes to reach for the brown paper bag in question, but you’re quick to pull it away from him. “A goodie bag?” you repeat. “If I'd known this was a goodie bag, I would have put some tissue paper in here-” you’re already reaching under the till, taking out some cream coloured paper with golden spots and bees on it. 

“It’s okay-”

“No,” you insist, “your niece is going to love this, trust me.” You press the fun tissue paper into the bag, and the soft crinkling sound makes Johnny smile. “Maybe a bow too?”

“She really doesn’t need a bow-” 

“Most little girls like bows, Uncle Big Bear,” you tell him, reaching for the yellow ribbons next to the register. But then your hands freeze. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just called you Uncle Big Bear-”

“That’s okay,” he assures you.

“It’s not,” you shake your head, averting your gaze, and Johnny corrects himself from earlier. He’d thought seeing you shocked made you cute, but seeing you flustered makes you even cuter. “That was really unprofessional-”

“Trust me, It’s okay,” he tells you again. “Look, if you really feel bad about it, you can call me Johnny. You can say ‘most little girls like bows, Johnny’ and that will be fine by me. How’s that sound?”

He loves the way your careful hands wrap a pretty bow around one of the bag handles even as you look up at him with shy eyes. “Most little girls like bows, Johnny,” you say, voice quiet.

“Then I’m thankful you’ve given me tissue paper and a bow,” he grins. “Thanks for all of this,” he picks up the finished bag of goodies. 

“You’re welcome,” you nod, biting on your lip. “And Johnny?”

He loves the way his name sounds coming from you. “Yeah?” 

“Please bring your niece in. We’re a hybrid and child-friendly store. I’m sure she’d love it here.”

Johnny takes a moment before nodding. “Okay,” he concedes, giving you one last once over before heading to the door. 

When he picks up his niece from school, she’s ecstatic to receive a new and improved goodie bag, giggling over the cream and gold, bee and polka dot tissue paper. She immediately tears into one of the honey sticks. 

While you’re often on Johnny’s mind after his Queen B visits, today, he can’t get you out of his brain. 

You’re halfway through completing a transaction with an older customer when your favourite regular walks into your store. The sight of him makes you do a double take, because today, he’s not alone.

He’s brought his niece in, just like you’d asked him to. 

At about waist-high next to the gentle giant bear hybrid, the little girl looks absolutely adorable. She’s in a yellow and white polka dot dress, with two sparkly scrunchies keeping her dark hair up in pigtails just behind her large fluffy ears. Her hand is clasped in Johnny’s, and her eyes are full of wonder as she steps into the space.

“Thank you for shopping with us,” you say to the lady you’re helping, quickly finishing up so your attention can return to Johnny. 

His niece is tugging on his hand now, attempting to run up to the display case that’s stocked with all your new honey stick flavours.

“These ones!” the little girl insists. “These are the ones you got me last week!” 

“I know, Winnie, I know,” Johnny smiles, joining the little cub in front of the table of treats. “Your favourite was the peach one, right?”

“Uh huh!” The little girl, Winnie, nods enthusiastically. “But I also liked raspberry, and strawberry, and apple, and cherry-”

“Slow down there, cub,” Johnny laughs, bending down to lift his niece up so she can see the display better. “We’ve got all the time in the world to make your choices, right?”

“Right,” Winnie confirms, nodding solemnly as she gazes down at all the honey sticks. 

“I think we’ll be needing a basket,” Johnny notes. “Can we go grab a basket?”

“Yeah!” Her enthusiasm makes you smile, and you reach under your till to grab something to carry their honey in, approaching the two with a heart that’s currently melting in your chest.

“Welcome to Queen B’s,” you say, drawing both of the bear hybrid’s eyes. “I heard a basket might be in order?” 

You hold it out for Johnny, and he gives you a grateful smile while accepting it. “Yeah, thank you,” he adjusts his niece on his hip. “Winnie, this is y/n, she showed me all these new honey sticks last week and wrapped your goodie bag up in a bow.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” The little girl grins, flashing a toothy smile that shows her sharp canines are just starting to grow in. 

“She loved the bow,” Johnny tells you. “Didn’t you, Winnie?”

“I loved it, see!” She thrusts out her hand, and you find the yellow ribbon wrapped around wrist. 

“That’s very pretty, Winnie,” you smile, also noting her cute yellow nails. She’s a girl who has an obvious favourite colour, and it’s cute in comparison to the neutral blacks and browns Johnny often wears. 

“Is it okay if she chooses her own honey sticks?” Johnny asks, holding his niece closer to the display stand.

“Of course!” You’re a little shocked by how polite Johnny is. Even after telling him you’re a kid-friendly store, he still double checks to make sure he’s not crossing any lines. 

“Did you hear that, Winnie?” Johnny looks down at the cub in his arms. “You can choose which ones you want, but I promised your mom to only get twenty today. Do you think you can count to twenty for me while you grab your treats?”

“Of course I can!” Winnie insists, reaching out her little hand to circle a bunch of the peach flavored honey sticks. When she pulls the treats back to her chest, she begins counting, and Johnny joins in. The first five are easy, but she begins to falter a little at six and seven.

Johnny is as patient as ever, helping her through to ten before he stops her. “Is ten enough, cub? That’s half of twenty, you know.”

“Ten is enough,” Winnie sighs, dropping her chosen sticks into the basket before reaching to return those she won’t keep. 

“What else?” Johnny asks, beginning to bob his niece up and down on his hip as she surveys the options.

“Two raspberry,” she concludes, and Johnny holds her closer to the tin of raspberry sticks. She plucks two out.

“What’s ten plus two?” Johnny questions.

“Uh…” Winnie looks up at her uncle and you watch him mouth the word twelve, which Winnie announces a moment later.

“Good job,” Johnny praises her. “Ten plus two is twelve. Okay, what’s next?”

“Two cherry.”

“What’s twelve plus two?”

“Uh…” again, Johnny mouths the answer, and Winnie declares “fourteen!” which earns her a few coos of admiration and another ‘good job’ that has you practically melting.

You suppose standing and watching the two is somewhat intrusive, so with a nod to Johnny, you step back, busying yourself on a nearby display case that needs some fixing. 

You listen to the bear hybrids count all the way to twenty, and you hear Johnny congratulate Winnie again for counting so high. 

You’d always gotten the vibe that Johnny is a softy, but seeing him in action is something else, and you find it harder and harder to stop the smile from appearing on your face at all his sweet actions.

Instead of approaching the till, Johnny asks Winnie if she wants to see some of the pottery on the walls, and the cub lets out an excited “Yes!” 

“But remember,” Johnny says, voice turning serious as he puts his basket down and adjusts the girl in his arms, hands going onto her waist so he can lift her high enough to see the tall shelves, “keep your paws to yourself.” 

“I promise,” Winnie giggles. “Uncle John! Look! This one’s a beehive!”

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Johnny nods.

“Very pretty,” Winnie confirms. 

“Maybe I should get your mom one of these for her birthday,” Johnny says. “Do you think she’d like a honey jar?”

Winnie nods enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Which one, cub? This one? Or…” he moves over a few feet, showing her another ceramic honey pot, “how about this?”

“They’re all so pretty,” Winnie admits. 

“Well, how about you think about it, and when we come back next week, you can help me choose one. How’s that sound?” 

He truly is a gentle giant, and you find yourself grabbing a few extra honey sticks from a display near the till in preparation for Johnny’s approach.

“Okay, cub,” he says as he carries his niece over, “I’m gonna have to set you down now so I can pay.”

“Okay,” Winnie nods, allowing herself to be placed back on the ground. She tucks in close to Johnny’s leg, looking around the store while Johnny sets the basket next to your till.

“How’s your day going?” Johnny asks, flashing you a smile as he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet.

“It’s going great,” you admit. “I was wondering if you’d actually come in today.” 

“I told you last time, Monday’s the day I babysit.”

“And I told you to bring in your niece,” your eyes dip to the small bear hybrid still clinging to his leg, “I’m very glad you did.”

“Me too,” Johnny smiles. “How much do I owe you?”

You give him the price of his twenty honey sticks, moving them from the basket to a pretty goodie bag you’d prepared. Johnny hands you two bills, and as always, tells you to keep the change.

“Wait,” he says when he watches you put five extra honey sticks into the bag, “I didn’t buy those-”

“They’re on the house,” you assure him. “I understand that your sister made a twenty honey stick cap, but I figured, maybe Winnie will share some with you, so… here are extra ones. They’re a different brand, Overgrove Apiary, and they’re all blackberry, which I know is your favourite.” 

“Wow,” Johnny accepts the goodie bag, immediately handing it off to Winnie, who reaches in to tear a honey stick out. “Thank you, I uh… I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” you assure him. “And by the way, the ice cream parlour next door has a new flavour out. It’s honeycomb.” 

“Honeycomb!?” Winnie is midway through tearing open the stick in her hands, and she looks up at you with wide eyes.

“You’re trying to get me in trouble with her mother, aren’t you?” Johnny laughs.

“I’d never even think of doing such a thing,” you grin.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” Johnny looks you up and down, and you feel your skin heating under his gaze. “Have a good day, y/n.”

“You too, Johnny.”

You’ve been looking forward to Monday all weekend, and when Johnny walks in at 3:30 with Winnie on his shoulders, all the tension from your long day leaves your body. 

“Hi, you two,” you greet them, coming from around the till to give them your full attention. 

“Hi, y/n!” Winnie exclaims, waving enthusiastically at you.

“How’s your day going, cub?” you ask, looking up at the little girl clinging to Johnny’s head.

“It’s okay,” Winnie sighs. 

“That doesn’t sound okay,” you note, reading her body language. 

Your gaze dips to Johnny and he gives you a look. “Some kids were being mean to her in school today,” he confesses. 

“What?” you look to Winnie again. “That doesn’t sound very nice.”

“It wasn’t,” she confirms with another loud sigh. “They were making fun of my ears.”

“But you have such wonderful ears,” you compliment her, frowning at the fact that the world is still full of people who are very much anti-hybrid. 

“That’s what I told her,” Johnny nods. 

“Uncle John wanted to know their names so he could go and gobble them up,” Winnie tells you, flashing a mischievous smile. “But I told him I could handle it. They might not like my ears, but they don’t know how to dress good either, so-” the cub shrugs, “how am I supposed to listen to girls who don’t know how to dress good?”

You find yourself laughing at her sass, nodding along. “That’s a very good point, Winnie. I have to admit, I liked your dress the first time you entered the shop, and I see you’re in an even prettier one today.”

“This one?!” Winnie looks down at the cream coloured poofy dress adorning her form. “Uncle John got it for me for my birthday.”

“Well, he also has an eye for fashion, doesn’t he?” You smile at Johnny, and he grins back at you. 

“He does,” Winnie agrees. “Even though mommy says he should wear dress pants with a button up, I like his t-shirts.”

“I do too,” you nod. You’ve always liked Johnny’s style, the way he can wear a nice pair of dress pants with a casual shirt and sneakers. 

“You guys are too nice to me,” Johnny insists, and you can see the hint of a blush in his pretty complexion. 

“No such thing as too nice,” Winnie insists, “you taught me that, Uncle John.” 

“I guess I did, didn’t I?” he sighs. “Anyways, you remember our mission today, right cub?”

“A honeypot for mommy,” the little girl on his shoulders nods. 

“That’s right,” Johnny begins to move towards the shelves holding ceramics, and you shadow the pair. 

“Is there anything that stood out to you the last time you were here, princess Winnie?” you ask.

The little girl kicks her feet with joy at the new title you’ve given her, and she nods. “The beehive.”

“The beehive,” Johnny repeats with a sigh, and his gaze shifts to you. “Our little Winnie is nothing if not predictable.”

You enjoy the sentiment, the use of the word ‘our’ as if you’re already a part of their little family. You certainly feel connected to the two bear hybrids, although you’ve only really been getting to know Johnny for a short time.

You hope you can get to know them better.

“Is this the beehive honey pot you want?” you ask, pointing at a lovely handmade ceramic on the top shelf. 

“Uh huh, that’s the one,” Winnie nods, playing with Johnny’s ears as she holds onto his head. “Mommy’s going to love it.”

“I’m sure she will,” you agree. “Let me just get the step ladder so I can reach it-”

“No need,” Johnny assures you, stepping forward and reaching up to grab the honey pot. You marvel at how tall he is- “Here,” he holds it out for you, “would you mind taking that to the till while we grab our twenty honey sticks?”

“I don’t mind at all,” you smile, accepting the ceramic and holding it close to your chest.

Johnny helps Winnie off of his shoulders and the two head to the display case that holds your store’s best goodies. You walk over to the till, scanning the price tag of the honey pot and getting it prepared. 

You wrap it in bubble wrap before placing it in a nice gift bag and adding tissue paper to obscure the pot. This is a present after all, and you take your time making it look nice.

You’re just finishing your task when Winnie and Johnny approach holding twenty honey sticks, and they wait patiently while you scan them too.

“Hey Winnie,” Johnny looks down at his niece, “How about you go take a look at that display case over there,” he suggests, “I’m sure there’s some stuff in it you haven’t seen before.”

Winnie looks confused for a moment, but then she shrugs, skipping off to look at the array of jarred honey in a display case a few meters away.

You cock a brow at Johnny while he pulls out his wallet. 

“Listen,” he says, voice low as he pulls out cash, “I know this might be overstepping, and I’m sorry if that’s the case but… I’d really like to take you out some time.”

“Take me out?”

“On a date,” Johnny clarifies. “Again, shoot me down and there will be no hard feelings-”

“I’d love to,” you tell him.

“Really?” He breaks into a smile, and it makes your heart flutter with excitement.

“Really,” you confirm, reaching for a Queen B’s Honey business card. “Let me give you my number,” you say, grabbing a pen to write your digits on the back of the piece of paper. 

When you hand it to Johnny, your fingers brush, and the contact makes your whole body light up with energy. You can tell from the way Johnny looks down at your number, skin flaring a slight pinkish colour, that he has no clue of the effect he has on you. “Thanks,” he mutters, voice cracking. “I’ll uh, give you a call later.”

“Wow, a call, not just a text,” you smile as you take Johnny’s cash, putting it into the register and counting out change. 

“Let’s just say I’m old fashioned,” the bear grins sheepishly at you. 

“I like it,” you confess. “It’s part of your charm.”

“I have charm?” 

“Tons,” you nod. 

“Good to know.” He licks his lips, looking down at you with those chocolate brown eyes that have always made you feel like melting into a puddle on the floor. 

Winnie returns to grab her bag of honey sticks, and Johnny gently picks up the present for his sister. “Say goodbye to y/n, Winnie.”

“Goodbye, y/n. See you next week!”

“You better,” you grin. “I’ll be eager to find out how your mom likes her new honeypot.”

“She’ll love it,” Winnie says with the confidence that only a toddler truly possesses. 

You adore her already.

“I’ll call you,” Johnny says again, giving you one last smile as you say goodbye and he turns to leave your store. 

You watch him go, holding Winnie’s hand while the little girl skips along. 

You kind of feel like skipping too.

Old fashioned Johnny is sweeter than the honey your store makes, and he calls you on Monday evening to see if you want to go to a fair on Thursday night. “You’re not scared of heights right? I can take you on the ferris wheel? They do fireworks at nine thirty for the kids but uh, I thought you might like watching them.”

He’s a gentleman, and you agree to all his ideas. 

Waiting until Thursday is something like torture, but you somehow make it to the end of your shift and go home to get dolled up for Johnny. It will be the first time he sees you not in a work outfit, and you want to impress him. 

You’d noted how proud he looked of Winnie’s dress when she’d mentioned he’d bought it for her, and you think Johnny might have a thing for cutesy looks, so you find your sweetest dress. It’s still modest, and when you look in the mirror, you realize you sort of look like one of those cute elementary school teachers you’ve seen in movies. 

Finishing the outfit off with red lipstick, you think it’s a happy medium, after all, you will be at a fair with lots of children running around. 

Johnny picks you up from your house, pulling up next to the curb in an old black muscle car convertible that takes your breath away as you approach.

“Wow,” you whisper, looking between him and the vehicle he’s leaning against.

“I should be saying that to you,” Johnny grins, straightening and holding out his hands. “You look amazing. Can you do a little spin for me?”

You allow him to grab your hand, and he helps you do a twirl that makes your dress dance.

“Perfect,” he tells you. “I’ve always liked your work outfit, but this dress is something else.”

“Really?” you beam up at him, allowing the bear hybrid to pull you to his chest.

“Would I lie to you?”  he asks.

You stare into his eyes, and after a moment’s consideration, you shake your head. “No, you wouldn’t.”

You almost think Johnny’s about to kiss you, but then he swallows thickly and turns his head away, looking at the road. “Should we get going?”

“Yes, please.”

He drives a little wilder than the calm persona he exudes when he’s in your shop, and you find yourself giggling as he races down streets. It feels exhilarating to be in a convertible, the warm summer air rushing past.

Johnny grins at you when you laugh, pushing the car even harder to bring you more joy.

You’re already completely dazzled by the bear hybrid by the time you get to the fair, and the night just keeps getting better and better.

He holds your hand as you walk through the crowd, and he even wins you a massive teddy bear at one of the fair games. His baseball skills are no joke, and he easily knocks down all the bottles, triumphantly holding the teddy out to you as his prize.

“For me?” you ask in shock, accepting the toy.

“Of course, everyone needs a Big Bear in their life,” he tells you, and the glint in his smile makes you think you’ve already found yours.

The two of you go on a few rides, with you clinging to Johnny’s side during rough twists and turns. He keeps you and the teddy bear safe, laughing while you scream in delight. It feels like being a kid again. It’s something you’ve never really experienced, being at a fair on a date with a cute guy who seems to want to give you the world.

It’s nine twenty before you even know it, and Johnny leads you to the ferris wheel.

“We should get to the top by the time the fireworks start,” he tells you before pulling out his wallet and stepping close to the teenage boy working the ride. “I’ll pay you twenty bucks to give us an extra five minutes at the top.”

“I can do that,” the teenager nods, quickly pocketing the bill before helping you both onto the ferris wheel. “Here, I’ll take care of the bear for you,” he says, as there’s no way you both will fit on the ride with the massive stuffed animal. The seats are for two adults, and Johnny pulls out another five to give to the attendant before sitting next to you.

The bar is secured in place, locking you in next to the bear hybrid who smoothly puts his arm behind you, laying it across the back of the seats. “It’s a nice night,” he tells you.

“A perfect night,” you agree. “I’m so happy you asked me to do this with you.”

“I’m happy you came,” he smiles. “I wasn’t sure if asking you out while you were at work was a good idea, but, I guess after seeing you interact with Winnie, I just couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.”

“Your niece is wonderful,” you breathe. 

“She’s a good cub,” Johnny nods.

“Seeing as we’re going to be on this ride for a while, do you mind if I ask you some questions about yourself? We’ve spent the whole night doing things, and I don’t actually know that much about you.”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Let's start with what you do for work?” 

Johnny laughs. “Any guesses?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re not a nine to five kind of guy-”

“I’m not,” he confirms.

“You dress so well, part of me wants to say you’re involved in fashion or something.”

“Good idea,” Johnny grins, “but unfortunately no, I’m not involved with any fashion work. I think my job is a hard one to guess, so I’ll just tell you. I run a club with a few close friends.”

“You run a club?” you blink at him.

“Don’t look so shocked, Bee,” Johnny smiles, and your heart does flip flops at the new pet name. “It’s a hybrid bar in midtown.”

“A hybrid bar,” you repeat. 

“Humans are allowed in the front section, but we have a back that’s exclusive for hybrids. It’s a safe space for us, and I’m there a lot, especially during the weekends, keeping an eye on things,” he explains. 

“Tell me about the friends you work with?”

“First, there’s Hyuck. He’s a pretty peculiar guy. Then there’s Renjun, and Yuta, he’s a wolf hybrid. But at this point, I’m friends with a lot of the workers too. We have this raven manager, Doyoung, and I love watching him run around like a stressed chicken with his head cut off-” Johnny smiles to himself. “You’ll have to come by sometime and meet them.”

“That would be nice,” you nod. “I mean, you’ve seen me at work so often, it would be interesting to see you in your own element.”

“Honestly, I’m not so sure the club is my element. It’s a good way to make money, and I don’t have to do much- it’s one of the perks of being a part owner. But if I had to choose between your store and the club, I think I’d rather be at the honey shop.” 

“So you can watch me run around like a stressed chicken with my head cut off?” you tease.

“You always seem so put together,” Johnny tells you. 

“That’s because you often show up when no one else is in the store. You should see what it’s like during a Saturday rush.” 

The bear hybrid laughs. “Maybe I’ll have to pop by, then.”

You’re only halfway up the ferris wheel, and you’re a little surprised when a sudden loud pop marks the beginning of the fireworks. You tear your gaze from Johnny, focusing on the blue and green explosion that’s lighting up the dark sky.

“Wow, this view is amazing!” you exclaim.

“It is,” Johnny agrees, and you can see out of the corner of your eye that the charming man hasn’t stopped staring at you just yet. “I knew you’d like it here.”

He adjusts his arm behind you, finally resting his hand casually over your shoulder, and you immediately tuck yourself closer to the bear hybrid. His large body is so warm and comforting, and you enjoy the peaceful quiet that settles over you both as you watch the fireworks.

The ride moves, bringing you closer to the prime spot at the top of the ferris wheel. You can feel yourself getting giddier- you’ve never been on a date like this. Never experienced something this perfect.

“You’re cute,” Johnny says.

“I am?” You look at the bear hybrid next to you.

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “The way your eyes light up when you’re watching the fireworks- I’ve never seen anything prettier.”

“Stop, you’re such a charmer,” you blush, hiding your face against the crook of his neck. 

“Just being honest,” he tells you, stroking your shoulder. 

The ride begins to move again, and you pull away from Johnny to marvel at the view again. 

From the top of the ferris wheel, you can see everything. The whole fairground is laid out below you, twinkling and brilliant. The fireworks are dazzling, filling the sky with colourful explosions.

You turn to Johnny and something comes over you. You want to say thank you, but the words themselves won’t suffice, so instead, you lean close, pressing your lips to his cheek. Johnny practically freezes, and when you pull away, you see a red lipstick stain on his skin.

Johnny turns his head to look at you, gaze darting down to your mouth-

Again, you’re hit with a surge of confidence, and this time, when you lean in, it’s not his cheek you’re aiming for. 

Johnny’s lips are soft, gentle against your own, and then his hand comes up to cup your face. You don’t want to pull away. You can tell he doesn’t want you to either. His mouth parts, tongue gently teasing your bottom lip, and you let him deepen the kiss.

Your body is tingling with energy as you lean closer to him, grabbing at the front of his shirt. When your own tongue darts out to taste him, the bear hybrid lets out a groan, and you mirror it with a pleasured sound of your own. 

A loud bang makes you jump a little in his embrace, and Johnny smiles against your lips, releasing your face so you can turn to admire the large firework that’s just been set off.

“John,” you breathe, “this is perfect.”

“It’s how I wanted our first kiss to be,” he muses. “As much as I wanted to kiss you when I picked you up, I knew waiting would have its rewards.”

So he wanted to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him, and the thought has your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

You can’t help but press your lips to his again, smiling into the kiss while Johnny tugs you closer. His free hand slips down to your thigh, and you moan at how good it feels.

It’s shocking how just kissing Johnny is already doing so much to your body- as if some primal instinct is taking over. 

You’re not sure how long you remain lip locked, but when the ride jolts into motion again, you break the kiss, laughing a little as you bury your face against his neck. 

The bear hybrid holds you tighter, and you remain in his embrace for the rest of the ride. 

When you reach the ground again, Johnny holds out a hand and helps you out of your seat. The teenage ride attendant gives Johnny the bear stuffie, and he carries it for you as you walk through the fairgrounds towards his car.

You’re amazed with how comfortable you are with Johnny, and the ride home is filled with as many speed fueled giggles as your drive to the fairground had been.

When you reach your house, Johnny even walks you to the door. 

You kiss him again, loving the way that his size dwarfs your own. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, not wanting to let go. But all good nights must come to an end, and after a long makeout session, you finally pull away to catch your breath.

“When can I see you again?” Johnny asks.

“Monday?” you suggest. 

“With Winnie?” The bear hybrid laughs. “Are you sure you’re not using me to get to my niece?” 

You grin, enjoying his playful banter. “I was just thinking that you said you work most evenings on the weekend, and I work during the day, so our schedules are conflicting.”

“Right, yeah,” Johnny nods. “What are you doing Tuesday, after work?” 

“You tell me.”

“Movies,” Johnny states. “I want to take you to the movies.”

“Is there anything good showing?”

“Probably,” he shrugs. “I figure anything will be good if you’re there with me.”

He’s such a sweet talker, and you give him a kiss, thanking him for the lovely evening. “I’ll see you Monday, John.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Why are you rushing, Uncle John?” Winnie asks as Johnny speeds down the street after picking her up from school.

“No reason,” he says, although it's partially a lie. 

He’s excited to see you, even if it’s just for a short interaction while Winnie gets her honey fix. However, his niece is right, Johnny is going a little too fast, and it’s almost torture for him to slow down. 

He all but hops out of the car when he parks in front of your shop, opening the back door for Winnie to exit the vehicle as well. They enter Queen B’s Honey with enthusiasm, although the cause of that enthusiasm is very different.

Winnie goes straight for the honey stick display, but Johnny’s much more focused on you. You’re restocking a few honey jars on a top shelf, wobbling a little on your stepping stool, and the bear hybrid is quick to rush to your aid.

“Hey there,” he breathes, steadying a hand on your waist. “Carefull, Bee.”

“Oh, hi, John,” you grin down at him. 

“Hi, yourself,” he smiles, watching you put the last jar in its place.

You turn, resting your hands on his shoulders as you step down to the floor, and Johnny loves the way you’re so much shorter than he is. He could just eat you up-

“Hi, Winnie!” You wave at his niece over his shoulder.

“Hi!” she calls back, and when Johnny turns, he sees his little cub is already reaching to grab a few peach honey sticks from their jar. She’s occupied, and it gives Johnny the chance to talk to you one on one a little, something he’s very grateful for.

“How was your weekend?” he asks.

“Busy,” you laugh. “You?”

“Busy,” he grins. “Was thinking about you a lot.”

“You were, were you?” There’s a twinkle in your eye, and it all but bewitches the bear hybrid who still has a hand on your hip. “Did I really leave that good of an impression?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he confesses. “Were you thinking about me too?”

“More than I care to say,” you nod. 

“Are we still on for that movie tomorrow?” 

“Of course, unless you’ve changed your mind-”

“Never.” 

“Uncle John!” Winnie’s voice snaps Johnny out of his daze, and he tears his gaze from your lips to look at his niece.

“Yeah, cub?”

“I can’t reach the cherry honey!”

“Oh no,” Johnny says in an animated fashion, letting go of your waist to go help Winnie. “We can’t have that, can we?” He lifts his niece up, helping her grab a handful of honey sticks. “Woah there cub, how many of these have you got already?”

“Just a few,” she insists, adding her new goodies to a hand already holding a large number of peach sticks.

“Just a few,” Johnny chuckles. It’s obvious that Winnie has forgotten her candy cap. “Can you count to twenty for me?” 

“Just twenty?” Winnie whines. 

“You know we’ll both get in trouble with your mom if you have any more than that.”

Winnie sighs with exasperation, putting a few of the cherry sticks back in their jar. 

“There we go,” Johnny grins. “Just peach and cherry today?”

“They’re my favourites,” Winnie insists. 

It’s a shame that his little cub doesn’t take longer choosing honey, as it means there’s less time with you, but Johnny also supposes that he shouldn’t be monopolizing on goodie time. He’ll get to see you tomorrow, even though it pains him to head to the till and say goodbye to you so soon.

“Have a wonderful day, you two,” you grin.

“We will,” Johnny promises. His day is already fantastic now that he’s seen you, and he’ll carry the memory of helping you off that stool for many hours to come. “Don’t work too hard.”

“No promises,” you wink. 

God, you’re perfect.

“Don’t be mad,” Johnny says, which is not a great start to a call thirty minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up for your date, “but when Winnie heard I was going to the theater with you, she insisted on coming because there’s this new Disney movie that’s showing, and her mom jumped at the idea to have her own date night-”

You listen to the bear hybrid ramble with a smile on your face, and when he finishes, he asks you if you’re okay with Winnie tagging along. “I’d love for her to join us,” you tell him. “You know I adore Winnie.”

Johnny lets out a loud sigh on the other end of the line. “Have I ever told you how perfect you are?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, you are. Very perfect. Thanks for understanding.”

Half an hour later Johnny’s at your door, but he’s not in the convertible muscle car. Instead, an SUV is waiting on the curb, and you see Winnie waving at you frantically through the window.

“You look amazing,” Johnny breathes, taking in your dress with a smile.

“You clean up well too, John,” you smile, enjoying the brown checkered pants and white shirt he’s wearing. 

“I’m sorry about this-”

“Don’t be,” you assure him. “As I said on the phone, I’m happy for the little cub to join.”

“Yeah,” Johnny sighs. “This was supposed to be a date-”

“It can still be a date,” you tell him, and you truly mean it.

It’s obvious to you that Winnie is a big part of Johnny’s life, and if you’re going to be part of his world too, it only makes sense for you to embrace his family. 

When you get into the car, Winnie is quick to say hello, and she’s practically bouncing in her seat in the back of the vehicle. “It is you!” she exclaims. “Uncle John told me you’d be coming, but I didn’t really believe him!”

“No?” you smile. “Why’s that, cub?”

“Because you’re a princess, and he’s just Uncle John!”

“Ouch,” Johnny laughs, slipping behind the wheel. “That hurts, Win.” He turns the key in the ignition, casting a glance at you. “Do we all have our seatbelts on?”

“Yes, John,” you smile, and your sentiment is echoed by Winnie in the back, “of course, Uuncle John!”

“Why?” he presses, looking over his shoulder at the child in the back seat.

“Because safety is the most important thing!” she all but yells, and you think this must be something of a ritual for the two of them. It’s sweet, and it makes you fall even harder for the bear hybrid.

“Can we turn on my music?” Winnie asks next.

“Of course, cub,” Johnny nods, reaching for the center console, fingers pausing over the play button. “That is, if Miss Bee doesn’t mind the Lion King soundtrack.”

“Not at all,” you assure him. 

Music fills the car a moment later, as does Winnie’s high pitched singing voice. When it reaches the chorus of the song, even Johnny joins in, and you wonder how many times he’s listened to this sound track with his niece.

It’s a soft experience, and one you savor every second of as Johnny drives you to the theater. 

Winnie insists on walking between you and Johnny when she exits the car, holding both of your hands and doing little jumps that force you and her uncle to lift her off the ground while she giggles. 

Once inside, you wait in the concession line and Winnie tells you all about the movie you’re going to see. She’s a massive Disney fan, and you enjoy listening to her talk. You catch Johnny staring at you a few times, and he always flashes you a smile when you meet his eyes.

Johnny gets a large popcorn with extra butter, and when he hands it to Winnie, she notes, “This is as big as me!” 

In the theater, Johnny’s adorable niece once again insists on sitting in the middle, and Johnny lets out a small sigh but doesn’t argue with his niece. When you take your seats, however, his arm immediately goes along the back of the chairs, and his fingers find the back of your neck, gently stroking your skin.

He smiles at you when you turn to look at him, giving you a small wink before he entertains Winnie with a discussion on what colour his tail would be if he was a mermaid. Winnie decides hers would be yellow, and when Johnny says his would be green, she insists his would be brown because he’s a brown bear hybrid.

“Does that make you a yellow bear?” Johnny questions teasingly.

“A honey bear,” Winnie corrects. “And Miss Bee would be pink.”

“Really?” Johnny’s brows raise. “And why’s that, cub?”

“Because she has a pretty pink soul,” the child smiles, looking up at you. “And also, your dress is pink, and I like it.”

“Thank you, Winnie, I like your dress too.” 

Winnie kicks her feet happily and Johnny rubs his thumb along the back of your neck in small, warm circles. 

The lights dim, the movie starts, and you find that you’re thoroughly enjoying yourself. It’s nice to have Johnny’s gentle touch, a constant reminder that - although you’re here with his niece - he’s still doing his best to be attentive to you.

The film flies by, and before you know it, the three of you are exiting the theater. Winnie is dragging her feet, obviously exhausted from a long day at school and an evening movie, so Johnny picks her up, holding her tight to his chest while she wraps her legs around his waist and all but passes out on his shoulder.

At the car, you help Johnny put Winnie into the back seat, and when he closes the door, he turns to you. “Thank you for all of this.”

“Stop thanking me,” you smile. “I enjoyed myself.”

“Me too.” His hands find your waist, and he tugs you closer- only for his phone to ring. 

“Shit,” Johnny cusses, the first swear word you’ve heard from him. “One sec, it’s my sister.”

He answers the call, assuring Winnie’s mom that the movie went well and they’ll be home soon. When he hangs up, Johnny tugs you to his chest again, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. 

He seems reluctant to let you go, but he opens your car door for you all the same, shutting it gently behind you once you’re tucked inside.

The drive home is quiet, as Winnie has fully passed out in the back seat. Johnny’s hand is on your thigh, and you place your own on top of his, playing with his fingers. 

When you reach your house, Johnny exits the car to walk you to your door, where he kisses you, cupping your face and taking your breath away. 

“I want to see you again,” he says, still holding you close.

“I’d love that.”

“How about Thursday? The club usually isn’t that busy on Thursdays. You could come meet a few of my friends.”

“Okay,” you nod. “I think I’d like that.”

“Perfect,” Johnny leans in to kiss you again, and as much as you’d love to melt against him, you’re very aware that Winnie’s mom is waiting for her back home.

“Drive safe, please,” you say when you finally pull away.

“I always do.”

You laugh. “That’s debatable.” 

“You just don’t trust my driving skills yet,” Johnny insists.

Before you can stop him, he gives you one final kiss goodbye, and when you watch him turn to walk back to his car, you find yourself wishing he didn’t have to leave.

On Thursday night, you face the dilemma of figuring out what to wear for your date with Johnny. The past two experiences had been fairly classic, with a fair adventure and a trip to the movies, both perfectly suitable locations to wear a cute dress. But tonight, you’re going to a club and you wonder how that should affect your clothing choice.

After much contemplation, and about ten different outfit try-ons, you decide to stick with your usual baby doll style. Johnny seems to like it when you dress cute for him, and you’re banking on the fact that the bear hybrid likes you for you, as opposed to the girls who frequent his club in all forms of scandalous attire. 

You’re feeling a little anxious about visiting a hybrid bar, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s not that you personally have anything against hybrids, you’re just used to only being around one or two at a time. 

You suppose maybe this is how Johnny feels, being a hybrid in a human dominant world, and the thought makes you a little sad. He always gives off such an air of ease and calmness, as if he doesn’t have a bother in the world. You wonder what adversities he’s had to overcome to get to that mentality, or if he was simply born that way.

Before you know it, Johnny’s picking you up. The convertible muscle car is back, and you take a moment to appreciate him leaning against it on the curb.

He’s dressed up tonight, more so than usual. His dress pants are paired with a button up, and its black silky material is soft to the touch when he pulls you to his chest for a kiss. “You look perfect,” he tells you, pinching at your chin and looking you up and down. “My perfect little honey bee doll.”

“I’m happy you like my dress,” you grin, swaying your hips so the skirt picks up.

Johnny grabs your hand, giving you the space to help you twirl while he lets out a whistle of appreciation. “I always like your dresses,” he admits. “I like your jeans and white t-shirt work outfits, but, I mean…when you walked out on our first date in a dress, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Good, I can’t take my eyes off of you either.” 

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into one last kiss before he opens the car door for you and helps you inside. 

The ride is a peaceful one. He asks about your day, tells you about his own, and before you know it, you’re pulling up in front of his club. “You ready to meet my friends, gorgeous?” he asks, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze of reassurance.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you smile, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before exiting the car. 

When you enter the club, with Johnny’s hand securely on the small of your back, it feels like any other bar you’ve been to. The staff are mostly hybrids, but you notice a few humans dressed  in black too. 

“It’s nice in here,” you tell him, beaming up at the man who makes you so eager to please.

“If you like this, wait till you see the back room,” Johnny grins, leading you past the bar. 

“Oh,” you swallow thickly. “Didn’t you mention that the back is hybrid exclusive? Are you sure we should be going back there?”

“You have a good memory,” the bear nods. “It’s hybrid exclusive, but I'm a part owner, so I figure I can do what I want. Besides, this front section doesn’t have a VIP seating area, and my friends prefer to be in places where people can’t overhear us.”

“Are you planning on giving me some trade secrets, John?” You cock a brow and the bear hybrid laughs.

“Something like that.” 

You reach the back door, where a bunny hybrid looks you up and down, his large, floppy ears twitching before his gaze shifts to Johnny. “Yuta said you’d be coming in tonight.”

You notice a puppy hybrid of sorts standing a few feet to the side, and his beautiful face is unreadable, his eyes fixed on you. 

“Of course he did,” Johnny smiles at the bunny. “There’s not much Yuta can keep from you, is there, Markie?”

The bunny hybrid’s cheeks flare a cute shade of pink and he lets out a cough. “He’s uh… he’s waiting for you in VIP. Hyuck’s there too.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Johnny says, applying a small amount of pressure onto your lower back which prompts you to step past Mark and through the open doorway. 

Johnny was right about the hybrid exclusive section being nicer than the front, and you hurry to take it all in with your eyes. As you scan the space, it’s hard not to notice a few looks you get from people within the room.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’re with Johnny, or because you’re a human, but when your eyes catch the gaze of a man behind the bar with large, black raven wings, you get the feeling that it might be the latter. 

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” you ask, tucking closer to Johnny’s side. 

“Definitely,” Johnny nods, leading you toward a set of stairs that leads to the VIP section. “Especially up here.” He takes your hand as you ascend, and you see a booth with two men sitting in it. 

One has white hair to match his ashy wolf ears, and you think this must be the Yuta that Johnny has mentioned to you. The other man has his back to you, and you don’t see any obvious hybrid markings.

Johnny hadn’t mentioned much about this ‘Hyuck’ friend of his, other than him being peculiar, and you begin to wonder if Hyuck might be human like you. It would definitely make you feel more comfortable.

“Hey, guys,” Johnny greets his friends as you come to a stop in front of the table. “How’s it going?”

Both the men turn to look at you, and like the hybrids at the door, their gaze shifts down and then back up. The wolf is the first to stand, pulling out of the booth to shake your hand.

“I’m Yuta, and you must be the honey girl,” he flashes you a smile complete with sharp canines that glint in the light. “We’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“You have?” 

“Johnny has been talking about you for months,” Hyuck breathes, but he doesn’t stand. “It was good to hear he finally grew some balls-”

“Hyuck,” Johnny groans, a warning in his tone. “Be nice.”

“You love bears probably want to sit next to each other,” Yuta says, slipping into the booth next to his friend and giving you the other side of the bench.

“Thanks,” Johnny nods, allowing you to sit first before he moves next to you, his arm immediately taking its place behind your shoulders. “Have you two been here long?”

Hyuck shakes his head, playing with the glass of amber liquid in front of him, but it’s Yuta who speaks. “Not long,” he assures you both, obviously the more talkative of the two. “Hyuck was here before me though, something about fucking his girlfriend in the staff bathroom-”

Hyuck grins mischievously and you wonder if this is a common occurrence for him.

“Does your girlfriend work here?” you ask, hoping to get into Hyuck’s good graces.

“Yeah,” his gaze shifts to the dance floor below. “She’s the sexy little bunny running around in that cute black dress.”

“She’s very pretty,” you smile.

“It runs in her family,” Yuta comments.

You’re confused for a moment before Johnny is leaning in close to your ear, “the bunny at the door, Mark, is her brother.”

“Oh,” you blink as you look at the men in front of you. “So you’re dating siblings?”

“I wouldn’t call what Yuta does with Mark dating-” Hyuck grins, earning an elbow in the ribs from the wolf on his side. 

Johnny lets out a chuckle. “They’re both being very bad club owners, if you ask me.”

To be fair, both Yuta and Hyuck seem like the types to date their workers, but you suppose you shouldn’t hold that against them. These are Johnny’s friends, and you’re not about to start judging them now.

“So, Hyuck,” you look at the man across from you. “I can’t help but notice you don’t have any uh… any hybrid marks? Let me know if I’m being too forward, but are you human, or?”

Hyuck scoffs. “Definitely not.”

“And before you ask,” Yuta buts in, “his hybrid type is classified information.” The wolf flashes you a wink, and you suppose you should drop the topic. However, you can’t help the pang of anxiety that clutches your heart when you realize you truly are the only human in this back room.

“Johnny,” you look at the bear sitting next to you. “Are you really sure I should be here?”

“It’s fine-” Johnny goes to assure you again, but you can tell from the darkening of Hyuck’s gaze that maybe he doesn’t agree. 

Before you can say anything else, Hyuck’s bunny hybrid girlfriend shows up. She smiles at Johnny, asking if he wants the usual, but when her eyes move to you, and you see her nose do a small wiggle, you realize she’s clocking you as a human. 

“And what can I get your friend?” the bunny asks, and you’re thankful that she’s still being polite to you, but you can’t shake the feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Actually, I think maybe I need some air,” you admit, taking a deep breath. 

You suddenly feel very claustrophobic, and it might have to do with being surrounded by predatory hybrids. You don’t know what Hyuck is, exactly, but you’re sure he’s something big, because he acts like he’s got the biggest cock in the room. 

“Are you okay?” Johnny asks, standing up from the booth to give you the space to escape your seat.

“Yeah, I just need to go outside for a moment,” you shake your head, turning to apologize to his friends before moving past the bunny hybrid and walking back down the stairs.

You can hear Johnny following you, but you’re in something of a rush as you weave through hybrids staring you down on the dance floor. When you get to the door leading to the front section, Mark stops you with a hand on your forearm. “Are you okay?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine, thank you-”

Johnny appears behind you, taking control of the situation as he tells Mark, “She just needs some air.”

The bunny hybrid lets you go, and you scurry to the front door, finally making your escape onto the street where you feel like you can finally take a breath.

Johnny stands two feet away from you, watching you with an empathetic expression. He gives you time to take a few deep inhales before reaching for your hand and pulling you to his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. 

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably overreacting-”

“You’re not,” he assures you, cupping your face and giving you a soft smile. 

“I just… I feel like… everyone should have a safe space, you know? And I worry that, as a human, being in that back section was sort of like… invading the sanctity of your hybrid only zone. I’m really sorry, John, but I’m not sure if I can go back in there.”

“That’s okay,” he nods. “Maybe I was being…” he searches for the word, “presumptuous tonight. I wanted you to meet my friends, but I didn’t think too hard about how you might feel in that environment. I’m sorry I put you in this situation.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry-” 

“Well we can’t both be sorry,” Johnny grins. “So maybe neither of us should be. Maybe tonight just didn’t work out, but that’s okay.”

“Really?” Relief floods your system as you look up into Johnny’s soft brown eyes.

“Really,” he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “What do you say about going somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else?”

“How about my place?” he suggests. “I was planning on inviting you after this, but we could go there now if you want. No pressure though.”

You take a deep breath before you find yourself nodding. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good.” His thumb smooths by your cheek. 

“Do you have to go back inside to say goodbye to your friends? I feel bad about making them come down here to meet me only to run away-”

“Trust me, those two would be here watching their bunnies even if we didn’t come out tonight. I’ll just send them a text and explain the situation. We can always meet them another night, at another bar.”

“And you’re sure they won’t hate me?”

“I don’t think anyone could ever hate you, Bee. You’re much too sweet for that kind of reaction.” Johnny smiles. “In fact, I bet Hyuck will be impressed.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you care so much about the sanctity of the hybrid zone. Much more than I do.” 

“You really think your friends will be alright?”

“Without a doubt.” He leans down to press another sweet kiss to your lips, but this one lingers. When he finally pulls away, you’re left wanting more, but he’s already reaching behind himself to open the door to his car for you. “Let’s go, gorgeous. My house is nicer than this place anyways.”

Johnny’s right about his house, it’s much nicer than the club. You guess you shouldn’t be shocked that he’s got a place just out of town, nestled amongst the trees of the forest. It’s a sleek place to live, and you admire the wood detailing of the upgraded cabin like exterior.

“This is a big house,” you muse, as you follow Johnny up the stone steps. 

“Too big for me, I think,” he admits. “But it was one of the only places I could find with acreage in the forest, and I wanted a space that felt like home, you know? Winnie loves it here, some nights she sleeps over and we have a fire in the back with s’mores, other days I take her on some of the hiking trails- my land connects with the national forest, and we’ve got easy access to one of the better hiking paths in the park.”

Your heart melts a little. You know Johnny is a fabulous uncle, but you hadn’t realized the true extent of it. 

“I love how close you are with Winnie,” you admit. “It can be rare to find a single guy who’s so doting on his younger family members.”

“Then I’m glad we found each other,” Johnny grins. “I’ve had ex’s in the past who would get mad about the time I spend with Winnie, but not you. I really did appreciate how well you took her date crashing that other night.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t a problem. I had a wonderful time.” 

Johnny flashes you a grin as he lets you into his house, and you marvel at the interior being as lovely as the outside had been. 

“Wow…it feels even bigger inside,” you note. “Will you give me a tour?”

“Of course,” Johnny tosses his keys down on an entryway table, grabbing your hand to begin showing you around. 

The lower level has a state of the art kitchen with french doors that open to the outside deck, and Johnny tells you about the barbecues he hosts here. “We even had a family reunion out back two years ago,” he admits. “I’ve got extra rooms, so my grandparents stayed here, and a few of my aunts and uncles- it was a really good time.”

“That sounds like a wonderful reunion,” you smile, enjoying how deep his love for family truly runs.

There’s a large dining room, and a living room with glass windows giving views to the forest. In the corner there’s even a toy chest, and Johnny explains how he bought so many things for Winnie through the years that he just started keeping some at his own house for the time she’d be here with him.

You love that he’s not a man afraid to share his space with a six year old, even if the toy chest does stand out amongst the other furnishings. 

The second level is where the bedrooms are, and Johnny lets you peek into Winnie’s room, where there are even more toys overflowing in baskets. 

Two more guest bedrooms brings the grand total of sleeping locations to a whopping four, and you can’t help but ask the question that’s on your mind. “Do you think you’d ever want to raise a family here? You’ve got more than enough space for it.”

“Oh, definitely,” Johnny nods. “Some days, when I’m here alone, I think about how much nicer it would be to have a few of my own cubs running around…” he licks his lips, pausing to look at you. “I don’t think we’ve ever talked about whether or not you’d want to have kids.”

“But I’m sure you can guess my answer,” you smile.

Johnny nods, grinning. “I bet you’d love to be a mom, and you’d be good at it, too.”

“Thank you,” you feel heat rising in your skin. “I guess my affection for kids is hard to hide, huh?”

“It’s sweet,” he tells you, “just another one of those perfect attributes of yours.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you melt against him, enjoying the warmth of his body. 

When Johnny moves away, you’re in something of a daze, and you blink up at him. 

“Saved the best room for last,” he tells you, reaching down to take your hand and lead you down the hallway to the final door. 

His room truly is the most impressive of them all, a master bedroom if you’ve ever seen one. With floor to ceiling windows along an entire wall, and a large space fitting a bed as well as a seating area, tv and fireplace, you think you could be very satisfied spending a lot of time here.

“Wow, John,” you let out a breath. “I can’t believe this is real, I can’t believe you actually live here-”

“So you like it?” he questions, pressing his body against your back and wrapping his arms around you, head on your shoulder. “My bear cave?”

“If this is a cave, I never want to go back to a real house,” you laugh. 

“I might hold you to that,” Johnny says, voice low.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of being in his embrace. And that’s when you feel something hard beginning to press against your bum.

You swallow thickly, leaning back against him while you gain your courage. You know Johnny’s not the type to force anything on you, and something tells you that if you don’t make this first move, you might miss your chance. 

Turning in his arms, you look up into Johnny’s chocolate brown eyes. Then you’re kissing him, putting all the passion that’s been brewing into the meeting of your lips. You thread your fingers through his soft hair, eager to get close to him, closer than you’ve ever been before.

You can definitely feel the outline of his cock against your abdomen now, and his hands reach down to find your hips, anchoring you to the front of his body while his tongue glides against your own.

“John,” you moan when his lips move to your neck, “I need you.” 

“Yeah?” His tongue grazes your sweet spot and you shiver in his embrace, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of him. 

“More than I’ve ever needed anything,” you tell him, meaning it with all of your heart.

With a groan, Johnny reaches down, grabbing your ass and prompting you to jump so you can wrap your legs around his hips. In just a few steps, he can lower you to his bed, and you expect him to follow, to press you against the mattress with his large body-

But instead, he pulls away, looking down at you with dark eyes filled with lust. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, reaching down to play with the bottom of your dress. “I’ve been dreaming about how you’ll taste on my tongue.”

Your pussy throbs at the idea, and you gaze up at him with a body alight in anticipation. “Then… then you should taste me, John.”

The bear hybrid lets out another groan, and then he’s falling to his knees on the edge of the bed, large hands grabbing at your legs to pull you closer. 

His lips find your calf, and then your knee. When his face is between your thighs, his pretty ears brush your skin and make you shiver.

“Ticklish?” he grins, continuing to pepper your thighs with soft kisses.

“Very,” you confirm, reaching down to pull the skirt of your dress higher, revealing your underwear to the man between your legs.

“Shit, Bee,” Johnny says, voice shaky as he looks at your core. “You’re soaked through your panties,” at first, his words make heat rise through your body, embarrassment- but then Johnny’s taking a deep breath, and he looks up at you when he comments, “It’s so hot.” 

His hands grab at your hips, and in one motion, he’s pulled your pussy to his mouth, tongue pressing against the light pink fabric of your underwear. 

It feels amazing, but it’s also such a tease- you can feel the wetness of his own tongue, but it’s just out of reach. 

“Johnny, please,” you whimper, pushing your hips forward, wanting more-

His nose brushes by your clit and your legs shake on his shoulders, a gasp of pleasure leaving you as you throw your head back and close your eyes. 

His fingers hook in your panties, and it’s a relief when he finally pulls them down your legs, discarding them over his shoulder before diving into your pussy. This time, there’s no fabric in his way, and his tongue licks at you directly, a sensation that drives you completely wild.

“John, it’s so good-” you groan, feeling the need to praise the man who pushes his tongue into your core. 

He moans in response, and the vibration has your body tingling. You could get lost in something like this, and you can already feel your mind going practically blank. All that matters is the here and now, you and Johnny. 

His nose brushes your clit again and a squeal of delight escapes you, your hands flying to grab at his soft hair and fuzzy ears. “John-” 

He pulls his tongue out of your wet hole, licking a full stipe of your pussy before he begins to circle your clit, and you swear you’re in heaven.

You can feel tension building in the pit of your stomach, and you know you’re not going to last long like this. No one’s ever eaten you out before with such vigor, such a need to have you like putty in his hands, and you’re more than happy to comply. In fact, you don’t think you’ll be able to help yourself.

His lips suction around your clit and your legs shake on his shoulders, your grip tightening in his hair, which only makes him groan again. You gasp at the feeling, pushing your hips up, needing more contact-

“I’m close,” you whisper, pussy throbbing as he worships your most sensitive spots.

Suddenly, you feel something else, a finger slipping into your tight hole, and you let out another sound of pleasure. One digit becomes two, and they crook up expertly, reaching a spot that has you crying out.

“That’s it,” Johnny says, pulling just off your pussy, breath teasing your entrance. “I want you to cum, Bee. Want you to cum so bad-”

You let out a strangled gasp from the praise, and when his lips return to your clit, fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, you know you’re going to be a goner. 

You pull on his hair, legs shaking as you teeter on the edge of ecstasy. When Johnny growls, the vibrations are enough to send you over, and your pussy clamps down on his fingers, whole body overcome with pleasure that brings a tear to your eye due to the intensity of it all.

He continues his motions, helping you through your high until you’re wiggling in his gasp. His free hand smooths against your abdomen, keeping you still while his tongue and fingers begin to slow. 

When he pulls his mouth away, you can finally take a full breath, shuddering in the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“You’re just like you were in my dreams,” Johnny tells you, pulling his fingers from your core to suck on. He lets out a groan at your taste. “Sweeter than honey.” 

You shouldn’t be in love with Johnny only after three dates, but with lines like this one, you know you most definitely are. In the after haze or your orgasm, you can’t even find it within yourself to care that he has you wrapped around his finger.

“Johnny,” you whisper his name, opening your eyes to look at the man who’s now standing by the edge of the mattress. “Need you now.” 

“Let me just grab condoms,” he tells you, heading for the bedside table while tugging his shirt off. 

Your pussy throbs just at the sight of him. He’s so big and built and bear-like, in the best possible way- 

He undoes his pants, pulling out a condom package that he opens with his sharp teeth. Part of you thinks you should be getting naked too, especially when his briefs come down to join the pants on the floor, but as you watch him roll the rubber onto his large cock, you think maybe he’d enjoy it if the dress stays on… for just a little longer.

When Johnny turns to join you on the bed, you pat the space next to you. He quirks a brow, but follows through, falling flat onto his back. You take the opportunity to mount him, knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips while you adjust your skirts, letting them fall over you both delicately. 

“You can take this off of me in a minute,” you tell him, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, “but you’ve always told me how much you like my dresses, so I thought-”

“You look amazing,” Johnny confirms, grabbing at your hips and urging you to grind down against his cock, which is caught between your bodies. “My cute princess.” 

“My big bear,” you smile, lips moving to his neck while you continue to swivel your hips. 

Johnny lets out a groan of appreciation and you kiss him again, tasting yourself on his tongue. You reach under your dress, wrapping your fingers around his cock and squeezing, which earns another moan from the man who makes such perfect sounds.

“How am I going to fit this inside of me?” you ask.

“You can go slow,” he assures you, already panting from your hand alone.

You pull away from his lips, sitting up straight and lifting yourself so you can adjust him beneath you. As you begin to lower yourself on his cock, you find yourself moaning desperately from just the head and the way it stretches you out so well.

You’ve taken some well endowed men before, and the tactic that always worked was small bounces, allowing your pussy to get used to the intrusion as you slowly work your way to fullness. However, Johnny’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had.

“Relax,” he tells you, rubbing circles on your hips through your dress. “Take your time, princess.”

But you don’t want to take your time, you want him inside of you, completely. You want to feel him everywhere, and soon, you’re fully sinking down on his cock, eagerly bending over to press your lips to his again while you both moan at the feeling.

You begin to ride him, thighs straining with the effort, but the reward is worth the muscle ache, and you get lost in the feeling of his cock splitting you open. Johnny begins to meet your thrusts, abdominal muscles flexing with effort while his tongue invades your mouth and he eats up your sweet sounds.

“As much-” Johnny breaks your kiss, gasping. “As much as I like your dress, I want to see you.”

You straighten again, easily pulling the fabric from your body so all that’s left is your bra. You begin to reach behind yourself to undo the clasp, but Johnny beats you to it, sitting up and easily removing the last piece of clothing keeping you from him.

“Shit,” Johnny groans, cupping one of your breasts with his large hand while his lips find your other nipple. His teeth graze the sensitive bud and you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair while your pussy clenches around his cock.

Johnny moans beneath you, pulling his mouth from your breasts. He looks up at you with a wildly desperate expression. “Can I take over?” he asks, breathless. “I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

“Please.” No sooner is the word out of your mouth than his hand is securing around the small of your back and he’s rolling you both, pressing you down against the mattress as his large body dwarfs your own. 

“If it’s too much, let me know,” Johnny tells you, swallowing thickly while gazing down at your form. “I can be rough sometimes, even if I don’t mean to be.”

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” you smile, cupping his face. “I’ve never actually said this before but… Big Bear, break my back like a glowstick.” 

Johnny laughs. “You got it, Bee.”

His lips find your neck, and you close your eyes, grabbing at his strong shoulders as his hips begin to move. 

Now that he’s on top, he’s somehow fucking you even deeper than before, and each glide of his cock against your inner walls has your toes curling in pleasure. 

He sucks on your sweet spot, making you gasp as his movements get rougher and rougher, the bed beginning to rock from the force of his thrusts. 

“John,” you whimper, body alight from the feeling of him, “Don’t stop-”

He only grins, fucking you harder, one hand lifting your leg higher on his hip so his cock can hit a spot deep inside of you that has you gasping-

“Oh my god-” 

“Close already, Bee?” Johnny chuckles.

“You just feel so good,” you tell him.

You’ve never experienced anything like this, and you’re not sure if it’s due to his big cock, his ability to use it, or the fact that you actually sort of love the guy you’re literally making love to. 

“That makes two of us,” Johnny says, kissing you again and taking your breath away.

You try to focus on his lips, to slow the orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, but it’s hard to distract from the cock that's splitting you open like nothing ever has before. 

“Shit,” your bear hybrid breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against the crook of your neck, “If you keep making sounds like that, I’m not going to last long-”

“Me neither,” you confess, although he already knew that. “John… you’ll cum with me, right?”

“How could I ever say no to you?” he groans, fingers flexing against your hips. “You’re already so tight, if you cum, I don’t think I’ll be able to help myself.”

You moan at his words, stroking your fingers across his strong back. “Please, I’m so close-”

The bear hybrid practically growls, and the sound goes straight to your core, making you throb around his cock. 

“You feel so good, I’m going insane-” you continue your praise, as every time you speak, he somehow fucks you harder. You’re not quite sure where he’s getting his stamina from, but you’ll never be one to complain about it.

Johnny lets go of your hip, and then he’s pushing his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit.

A strangled moan escapes you at the contact, your eyes clenching shut as your body is suddenly teetering on the edge-

“Cum for me, Bee,” he pants against your throat, “I can’t hold it any longer.” 

Your entire body tenses as pleasure erupts through you, muscles screaming at how good everything feels. Gasping sounds slip past your lips, and you hold onto Johnny’s shoulders tightly, mind completely blank as the most intense orgasm of your life overtakes you. 

The bear hybrid lets out groans of his own, hips twitching as he fills the condom, fucking you through all the pleasure. When he kisses you, you’re already breathless, and his lips don’t help the situation. You’re completely overwhelmed by Johnny, and you’ve never loved anything more.

As you come down from your highs, his thrusts slow, and he stills on top of you, cock buried deep in your pussy while you both catch your breaths. 

“Wow,” Johnny says, laughing a little to himself as his kisses move to your neck again. “That was even better than my dreams.”

“You’ve been dreaming about me a lot, haven’t you, Big Bear?” you grin, tracing nothings on his shoulders.

“More than I care to admit.” He swallows thickly. “And something tells me the dreams will only continue.”

“They better,” you smile up at him when he pulls away from your throat.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

With one last kiss to your lips, Johnny rolls off of you and stands up. You can’t help but watch him as he heads to the ensuite bathroom. His body is the most perfect thing you’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing and experiencing. 

You take a few breaths while you wait for him to come back, trying to ground yourself. 

After the bathroom, Johnny heads into his walk-in closet, coming out a moment later in a pair of black briefs. “I got you a shirt,” he says, holding it out for you. “As much as I love that dress, I think this might be more comfortable for you.”

“Thanks, Big Bear,” you grin, taking it and putting it on. The fabric swallows you up, and you smile at how good it feels to be wearing his clothes. 

“I was thinking…” he sits on the bed next to you, hand smoothing up your thigh, “I’m pretty hungry after that workout. Can I make us something to eat?”

“I’d love that,” you say, sitting up. 

“Good,” he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet before finding your panties on the floor. “Here, you might want these too.”

You laugh, accepting the underwear and bending over to slip them on.

“So what’s on the menu, chef?” you ask, following him out of the bedroom.

“Well, I know it’s not much, but I was thinking avocado toast.” 

“Sounds perfect,” you grin, padding down the stairs after him to the main floor.

In the kitchen, you take a seat at the large island table, watching him as he heads to the fridge and pulls out a few ingredients. 

You’re once again struck by how wonderful the silences can be with John. There’s no pressure to fill them with words, and you can simply relax while you watch your Big Bear hybrid work.

His muscles are particularly enthralling as he pulls out a knife and opens the avocado, setting half of it down before he begins to peel off the skin.

“Look at you go,” you smile, “opening that bad boy like a pro.”

Johnny flashes you a look and then lets out a laugh. “I used to absolutely brutalize avocados,” he confesses. “Yuta’s dad owns a sushi restaurant in Japan, so he knows how to do all this cooking stuff. The first time he saw me open one of these he nearly had an aneurysm.” 

“Was it that bad?”

“I used to leave the peel on, slice it up, and then try to scoop it out with a spoon,” Johnny grins at the memory. “So yeah, pretty bad.”

You’d never have guessed Johnny would have had such humble beginnings with knife wielding, but you suppose everyone starts somewhere.

You enjoy watching his hands while he works, laying the peeled avocado flat while he slices it in perfect chunks. He’d put bread in the oven at the start, and as he finishes up with the avocado, he pulls the pan of toast out, the colour a nice golden brown.

“Do you make this sort of thing often?” you ask.

“Often enough,” Johnny nods. “Winnie likes her avocados almost as much as her honey.” He places the green slices on the bread, using a fork to press them down before he grabs salt and pepper. 

“Can’t wait to try it,” you grin.

“There’s just one last ingredient though,” Johnny tells you, finding a jar of honey sitting on the counter. You watch as he drizzles the golden liquid on top of the avocado, and you can’t help but find the bear hybrid incredibly charming. “There we go,” he smiles, putting all the pieces onto a plate before coming around the table to join you on the bar stools.

“Cheers,” you say, holding up one slice for Johnny to gently touch with his own.

“To the bears, the bees, and the honey that connects them,” he muses.

“To us,” you agree, picking up on the metaphor.

You know that there’s technically nothing special about avocado toast, but it’s still one of the best things you’ve eaten in ages, and you find yourself groaning after the first bite.

“Is it really that good?” Johnny laughs, watching your expressions with a smile.

“Better than good,” you confirm. “If running a club doesn’t work out, you could always be a chef.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Johnny nods with a smile. “You haven’t even tried my barbecue yet.”

“Something tells me you know how to handle your meat.”

The bear laughs at your comment, and you realize too late the sexual connotation of your words. 

“I didn’t mean-” you go to correct yourself, but you end up face palming instead, letting out a groan.

“You’re too cute,” Johnny assures you, resting a hand on your knee. “Hey, listen, if you want me to drive you home, I can, but… how would you feel about staying the night?”

“Really?” you blink at him.

He nods. “Really.”

“I think I’d love that,” you admit.

“Perfect, then it’s settled. Mi casa es su casa.” 

You smile at the notion of his house being your house. “Since when did you speak Spanish?” 

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” His thumb rubs circles on your thigh.

“Well,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, “I can’t wait to find out more.”

Johnny had closed the blinds last night, so when you wake up in a literal man cave, you kind of want to see the sun. However, Johnny looks so peaceful lying next to you, his plump lips just slightly parted, his fluffy ears twitching from whatever is happening in his dream land- and you think it would be a shame to wake him so abruptly to the light.

You take the time to appreciate him, wondering how you ever got so lucky to end up where you are now. You’d always had a crush on him, but you’d never expected it to be anything more.

You’re so happy that he’d felt the same way you had. If he’d never made a move and asked you out, well- you don’t want to think about that.

When you shift ever so slightly, Johnny’s eyes open, and he squints at you, letting out a groan. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice gruff from sleep.

“I’m perfect,” you tell him. “Are you waking up now?” 

“It’s too early,” Johnny grunts, pulling you closer and burrowing his face in your neck.

“I guess I’m used to waking up at this time,” you note. 

“Do you have to go? Is there work?” 

“I’m thinking of calling in sick, that is… if you want me to spend the day with you.”

“Fuck, yes please.” His breath is hot against your throat.

“I’m just going to step out to make the call, and when I come back, do you mind if I open these blinds? I know this is your bear cave and all, but if you’re going to sleep a little longer, I’d love some light to read a book or something.”

Johnny only groans, but you take it as an affirmative as you untangle yourself from his grasp.

Five minutes later, the room is lit with sunshine and you’re slipping into bed next to him again. Your family has always been extra close with the owner of Queen B’s Honey, so calling in had been simple, and you’re excited about what your day with Johnny will bring.

You’ve found a book to read, some fiction off Johnny’s bookshelf, and when you get under the covers, Johnny is quick to cuddle up next to you again. “Can I put my head in your lap?” he asks, voice as groggy as ever.

“Of course, Big Bear,” you smile, adjusting to allow him to curl up next to you. He lets out a deep breath once he’s settled, and you smooth your hands through his hair, gently scratching at the base of his ear.

Johnny lets out a deep groan. “Feels good.” 

He falls asleep just seconds later, and you continue stroking him while you read. 

Time flies by, and you’re not sure how long you’ve been reading when Johnny finally wakes up again. He lets out a soft groan, cuddling closer to your side. “Good morning.”

“Hi, sleepy bear.” 

“I had dreams about you,” he says softly.

“You did?” 

“Uh huh,” his hand strokes by your thigh. 

“What happened in your dream?” you press, gently scratching his fluffy ear.

Johnny lets out a laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t talk about it.”

“Was it something bad?”

“Something good,” he confirms. “It involved a few cubs running around.”

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest. “Wow, John, I didn’t know you were really thinking that far ahead in the future for us.”

“I can’t help it,” he confesses, rolling onto his back to look up at you. “I know we’ve only had a few dates, but… well, I’ve been into you for months. It’s at a point where I don’t even really look at other girls, and I’m fine if you don’t want to be exclusive or anything-”

“Who said I don’t want to be exclusive?” 

A lazy smile covers Johnny’s face, and he sits up, cupping your cheek in his warm hand. “You really want to give this a try?”

“I’d be stupid not to, don’t you think?”

“I mean… I’ve met girls who will only see me as a hybrid, as someone to mess around with for a little while before finding a human partner again. I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t see a future for us.” 

“Oh, John,” you shake your head, “I’m not like those other girls.”

“I guess not,” he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. 

You feel so blessed to be able to give this a shot with Johnny, a real shot. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, and as he pulls you into his arms, you have a feeling that everything is going to work out better than either of you could possibly imagine. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you've made it to the end and want something else to read, check out Hyuck's hybrid fic here, or more of Nikki's work on her masterlist here

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🔮 preview. “Give me a sec and I’ll pull off to a residential street,” he tells you, flicking his turn signal on. “It will take a minute or two longer to get home, but something tells me you won’t mind.” He’s literally the perfect man, and you’re working to get his zipper undone the moment you’re off the main road. Johnny lifts his hips, helping you tug his jeans down just enough to get at your prize.

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, blowing Johnny while he drives, hand job, sex outside in the forest on a car, car sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise, quickie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Bee, Princess. (his) Big Bear, John.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 350

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader

bonus

Going to a baseball game is one of your favourite family outings. Between you, Johnny, his sister, and his sister’s husband, the four adults can handle the four cubs that run around you like excitable little rascals at all times.

Hotdogs and popcorn are cheap, and Winnie, as the oldest of the group of kids, spends the whole game explaining what’s happening to your sons, who are much too young to care about baseball. 

You and Johnny sit on either side of Winnie, each holding a wiggling three year old twin in your arms. Winnie’s mom and her dad are in the row just in front of you, their own two year old in their grasp.

“So now,” the nearly ten year old Winnie explains to the toddler in your arms, “the bases are fully loaded, and the game is almost over, so the guy with the big bum has to make this hit-”

Johnny murmurs the name of the player up to bat, but Winnie ignores him. She has names for each man on the pitch, and it just so happens that the man swinging has the biggest butt. 

The crack of the ball against the bat alights the stadium in cheers as everyone at their bases begin to run, and Johnny stands, holding his toddler while he watches. His baseball cap is backward, but it’s still clear by the jersey he’s wearing that he’s a home pitch superfan. “Go, go, go!” he screams. “Run, butt guy, run!” 

You love him, and your perfect family. 

You stand too, as this last run of the game is important to your evening plans. If your home team wins, Johnny’s sister will take your twins for the night and give you and Johnny some alone time. However, if her away team wins, you and Johnny are on babysitting duty.

“Go, butt guy! Go!” Winnie cheers, and you find it almost comical how the little girl has no clue that she’s helping cheer on the odds of her sweet Uncle John getting laid.

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#johnny suh #johnny suh smut #johnny suh x reader #nct #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #hybrid nct #hybrid nct smut #hybrid nct 127 #hybrid nct 127 smut #nct johnny #nct johnny smut #johnny nct #johnny nct smut #nct 127 johnny

[saint-vagrant]

heyyy, somehow gained many new followers recently. thank you very much for enjoying my work! in light of that, let's do a small introduction.

i'm Seosamh Dáire, or you can call me joe. he/him • sé/é only. transsexual butch man and leatherdyke ✦ fear tras/aiteach agus gearrán 🐗

i'm a painter, comic author-illustrator, web/html artist, petty designer, smalltime archivist, passionate marxist. i like anime and virtual pets both from ~1990. as someone working primarily with past decades, i'm interested in broadening our ideas of time/place and who was in it. pro-palestine, native rights and strong proponent/student of irish-native solidarity, blm, roma, the works (uninterested in debating these topics!)

i make trans gay art for perverts and i was recently an artist in residence in the Burren, focusing on traditional paintings and reflecting/writing on being Queer In The Land.

SUPERPOSE: the tremendous dark trans sci-fi comic i make with my life+work partner Anka @kingfisher-cove . take a look! this project is my whole LIFE, and almost every piece i make pertains to it, so if you're unsure of who or what my images are of, that's a safe bet. the comic is recommended for mature readers. here's a brief synopsis,

An ongoing queer sci-fi horror comic about physics.

On the Atlantic coast, in a town called PORT CITY— “a place out of time”

While a tourist destination boasting a popular beach and boardwalk, Port City is also home to ROMAN LABS, an aerospace-turned-tech company now floundering in the tech boom.

Rafael and Royal are each listless in their own lives as longtime locals with little mobility, whose orbits have only occasionally overlapped, until now. Turning a job at the lab into a last-ditch effort for a glimpse of a more equitable future brings Royal and Rafael together, and beaches Kas, a young physicist, on Port City’s shores.

Together they seize the opportunity to alter their future and carve out a place in time for themselves, finally shaking the town and their lives from standstill. Changing history begins with the machine.

(also a supplementary web art/ARG aspect, using flat digital spaces to create a sense of 3d depth and narrative.)

SUPERPOSEBLOG @superposeblog is the repository for all updates and news about the comic.

198X.LOVE our homepage & portfolio

PATREON is where i share most of my work first, early comic pages, WIP, process and thoughts and other resources. it's a direct way to support mine & my partner's work. we are an independent team of two and i'm sure you can appreciate the effort and dedication to managing our practise as well as life obligations. for one-time support, there's also ko-fi. thank you!

i've also begun a new, as of yet unnamed 18+ comic about trans disposability/sapped as a resource + weird blood + nuclear war. so look out for that next year 😘

#introduction #illustration #superpose #comic #webcomic #painting #queer #trans #butch #dyke #he/him #trans artists #artists on tumblr #q&a #please don't call me transmasc

[loriahlikeswriting]

Hi! I recently started writing fanfic again. With Hazbin Hotel finally getting a season I was really inspired to dabble into writing something pertaining to Angel Dust, and so I really got hooked on the idea of a human alternate universe taking place in modern times following not only Angel’s struggles but Alastor’s as well! It’s really just a character analysis and me trying to write different characters (one being kinda loony) but regardless I put a lot of effort into each chapter and would love to get feedback! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

I’ve also drawn some pictures of all the characters here and will post some art I have made pertaining to this fic.

I’ll attach a link to ao3 story after the summary and snippet of the first chapter <3 thank you so much for taking your time to read this post and I hope you enjoy!

Am I Making You Feel Sick?

TW: abuse and violence, disordered eating, death, abuse of a minor, SA

Summary:

Anthony Di'Angelo wasn't always like this, he had dreams like any other kid. Yet here he was at the ripe age of twenty, a crack whore with a shitty ass pimp and an even shittier means of living. As far as anyone was concerned this life would consume him and leave him to rot on the streets like many of those before him. His decline is ever apparent, especially to his next door neighbor who just happens to be a novelist from New Orleans who after many successes has begun to lose his spark. A wannabe lyricist who is damned to live life as a whore stuck in poverty and a twisted writer aren't quite a match made in Heaven but maybe the heavens weren't meant for them anyway.

Chapter 1 Snippet 🫶

Anthony’s life wasn’t really one worth living if he was being honest. He had a lousy apartment, lousy job, lousy friends, lousy attitude- he himself was simply lousy. Recognizing just how miserable he was did little to change anything, though, so he kept going with some weird faith that things may somehow, some way get better. Between being disowned by his family only to be taken in by a pimp disguised as a lover he wasn’t sure what else could possibly go astray.

He’d lost another ten pounds, which meant another size or two down, and another shopping spree which would soon enough result in spending funds he really didn't have right now. Maybe he shoulda picked up sewing like Molly- that perfect little angel- just so he wouldn’t have to waste time getting shit retailored. Staring at what became of himself in the mirror was fucking trippy. What stared back at him were large muted blue eyes smudged by smeared eyeliner and mascara, sunken in freckled cheeks, pale skin which was once sunkissed now tainted by bruises, a thin frame no longer toned and instead starved. Mobster to crack whore- what kinda transformation was that? A laughable one. Damn, if only Pa could see him now. Naw, Anthony didn’t wanna imagine it if he was being real honest.

Pulling off the slightly loose sticky latex one piece, the blonde reached over into his dresser for a tattered old tee he managed to convince Val to let him keep. He had to let Valentino know if he could wipe his ass for fuck's sake, God forbid he had a shirt the man didn't fuck with. Sliding on the shirt and some boxers which loosely fit his frame, Anthony quickly flung himself into bed. His mattress was stiff and his blankets were thin, but at least he managed to get a place to call his own. Moving out of Valentino’s was such a step forward- no more nightly beatings, no more degrading insults outside of work, no more being used and abused whenever wherever. Sure, he dealt with allat on the clock but the minute his shift ended he had somewhere to return to that was his own. He hadn’t had something to call his own in a long fucking time.

Staring up at his ceiling, Anthony couldn’t help but toss and turn, his head pounding and begging for attention. The boy was a mouthy one, and mouthy ones get put in their place real quick. Today was extra humbling for the blonde, his eye was puffed up and colored purple, a testament to his treatment. It wasn’t just his eye, he’d gotten a full body beat down today, but that meant he could stay out of work for a day or two til they gradually lost their color. Two days of lazing about? Fuck yes. He could really use the break.

Huffing, the thin blonde shoved his blanket aside as he stumbled onto his feet. Grabbing his lighter and a pack he kept ready at his night stand, Anthony made his way to his small balcony. The crisp air burned the blonde’s nostrils, a sensation he'd learned to adore as time went on. Shivering, he made his way over to the iron rails. He was hardly dressed, but that was something he was used to. Shutting his eyes, the blonde let himself feel the night’s frigidity, wanting to succumb to the numbness which would eventually overtake his limbs.

Lighting his cig, the boy scanned the night sky for some type of reassurance when the cold hadn’t done its job. Disappointed, the blonde knew the stars couldn’t give him any answers no matter how much he bothered them. So he pressed his lit cigarette to his lips, breathing in a burn which would warm his rotting core. The first huff wasn’t satisfying, nor was the second. Anthony was used to more nasty shit, nic did little to ease his mind. Well, it did help with the headaches, but the dancer was itching for something stronger tonight. Flashes of his last client wormed its way into his skull and Anthony could feel his shoulders tighten in anger and resentment. Clenching his jaw, the blonde rubbed at his eyes aggressively wincing in pain once he was reminded of the bruise that bitch left behind. That motherfucker was extra sleazy on the floor and in private, and he was a recurring patron. Lucky him, huh?

Frustrated, the man put forth all his weight onto the railing, letting his forehead rest against the cold metal, hoping some contact would relieve the pressure. Rubbing his forehead against the bar, Anthony felt his eyes burn familiarly. A pain settled in his throat, an achy pain that continued to increase in strength. His face burned in shame as he felt himself begin to sniffle. Ah God, he hated these types of nights. Everything was just too fucking much and he was just so tired and in so much pain. Whiny bitch he was, but at least he was a whiny bitch by his lonesome.

“God, I can't do this shit sober.” The blonde huffed, as he finished up his cigarette. Putting out the cigarette onto a used up ashtray, Anthony pushed himself off the railing. He just got through his last bottle of booze and he was aching for more. What? Cheap shit was all he could afford when he was away from Val. Matter of fact, Tony came to crave that shit simply because it signified he wasn't anywhere near that fucking cunt. He promised himself he wouldn’t spend any more pocket change on shit that was bad for him, but that obviously wasn’t going great. Nothing was ever going great, so drink til he got crunked was what he was gonna do. Slipping on some fuzzy light pink slippers and grabbing a coat, Anthony wrapped himself up real tight. Rummaging through his nightstand did he find his house key, some change, and his ID. Aw fuck, he had to get that shit updated. Staring back at him was his wide eyed seventeen year old self. If only he knew there wasn't anything in life to look that excited for. Smiling slightly at the picture of himself, Anthony shoved all that shit into his right pocket, shaking any longing that started to yank at his heart strings. He'd cry after he got fucked up.

Shutting his door and quickly locking up, the lithe dancer shoved his shaking hands into his pockets. His apartment complex was nice, not necessarily cozy but livable. Making his way down the stairs Anthony lost himself in thought. Nights like this he reminisced on back to when he didn’t rely on substances to feel warm, before he was labeled a deadman by his father, before his mother died. He thought back to sibling banter, Sundays post church, elementary school playgrounds. The blonde could feel himself getting choked up again, but he couldn’t stop himself from spiraling. If the man was being honest, dysthymia was such a comfort. Being sad was all Anthony knew how to do properly, and that in itself reassured him. The tightness of muscles when he was on the brink of a meltdown felt akin to the ghost of a hug, something the man was desperate for. Funny thing was, he got hugs all the time- none of them were fucking genuine though.

Making his way down the staircase, the boy felt a bit of his mind dwindle with every step. His mind was going numb, instead he focused on his breathing and the way his bones felt like they were being suffocated under his skin. He focused on the way his hips ached, and his eye burned, barely able to keep itself open because of how swollen it'd grown to be. He could feel every spot that man touched him, like his finger tips were pressed so deeply into his skin they left a mark not just on skin, nor fat, nor muscle, but on his fucking nerves. He could see the way the man looked at him in a disgusting lustful haze, and how he had to pretend he liked every second of getting his ass handed to him. He saw himself, and he saw himself drowning deeper into the pit he had created for himself the second he got disowned. He could feel just how much it hurt to breathe, so Anthony forced himself to gasp heavily like a fish out of water. The sting was nice, he wished that was all he could feel for forever. His body on autopilot, the dancer was met with a light which dimly lit up the corner store before he knew it. Cheap liquor? Not his favorite, but it did the trick. It made his brain fill with static. And static was all he wanted to hear and see for the rest of his shitty life.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #angel dust #niffty #charlie magne #fanfic #fanart #human au #modern au

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

Alan Wake 2: Lyric attribution and breakdown of the song "evermore" (by Taylor Swift, ft. Bon Iver) and how it pertains to Alan and Alice's marriage

I was just listening to this song after I finished watching a playthrough of Alan Wake 2 and almost every line was like a gut punch when considering their circumstances. It just perfectly encapsulates their relationship and the feelings of grief and hope they both have of getting back to each other somehow. Ugh, just beautiful. I think someone needs to make an edit of Alan Wake 2 using this song (I would but I have no idea how).

Anyway, I'll put the lyrics and my breakdown under the cut so you can think of Alan and Alice and see what I mean (spoilers ahead so be warned):

Gray November I've been down since July Motion capture Put me in a bad light I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone Trying to find the one where I went wrong Writing letters Addressed to the fire

I mean, if this verse doesn't just scream Alan going through the loop (spiral) in the Dark Place, I don't know what does. Even the part where he gets blinded by the flash of Alice's camera in Parliament Tower makes sense here with the third and fourth lines. And even the last two lines make sense with him writing and destroying and rewriting his works to find an out.

And I was catching my breath Staring out an open window Catching my death And I couldn't be sure I had a feeling so peculiar That this pain would be for Evermore

This part reminds me of that one video of Alice where she describes seeing a little girl losing her balloon out of her window and how that little girl was crying like she lost her whole world and Alice felt like she had too.

Hey December Guess I'm feeling unmoored Can't remember What I used to fight for I rewind the tape but all it does is pause On the very moment all was lost Sending signals To be double crossed

Alan again. The first part is more obvious, as he completely lost his way in the Dark Place and planned to stop writing altogether and just gave up. The second half works with all those videos you find on the scattered TVs in the Dark Place where he sees himself having a mental breakdown in the writer's room.

And I was catching my breath Barefoot in the wildest winter Catching my death And I couldn't be sure I had a feeling so peculiar That this pain would be for Evermore (Evermore)

No specific scene, but definitely reminds me of Alan having to suffer through the dangers of the Dark Place.

Can't not think of all the cost And the things that will be lost Oh, can we just get a pause? To be certain we'll be tall again Whether weather be the frost Or the violence of the dog days I'm on waves, out being tossed Is there a line that I could just go cross?

Alan again, lost on the lake that isn't a lake, but an ocean, trying so hard to find his way to shore. The last line can be a double meaning; Alan must write the perfect line to create a happy ending, or find the right line to cross to remember what needs to be written in order to escape.

And when I was shipwrecked (can't think of all the cost) I thought of you (all the things that will be lost now) In the cracks of light (can we just get a pause?) I dreamed of you (to be certain we'll be tall again) (If you think of all the costs) It was real enough (whether weather be the frost) To get me through (or the violence of the dog days) (Out on waves being tossed) But I swear (is there a line that we could just go cross?) You were there

I think this section of the bridge can be from both Alice and Alan's perspectives. Alice is figuratively shipwrecked due to her grief, Alan a bit more literally considering he's technically at the bottom of a lake. Alan is seeing glimpses of Alice in the Dark Place, and is using his desire to protect her and get back to her to push him into trying to escape again. Alice is using her art to reach through the void to lead Alan in the right direction.

(Edit: Alice also jumping into the Dark Place to help Alan also fits this part of the song.)

And I was catching my breath Floors of a cabin creaking under my step And I couldn't be sure I had a feeling so peculiar This pain wouldn't be for Evermore Evermore (evermore) Evermore This pain wouldn't be for evermore (evermore) Evermore

The first part of the last chorus is definitely Alan stuck in the writer's room, specifically after he was "killed" by the bullet of light and brought back to life. The second part is both of them, their hope making them realize that it will all be okay in the end. This loss is impermanent. The pain won't last. They will see each other again.

Anyway, this was just my silly thoughts about my current favorite video game. Their relationship is so tragically beautiful to me. Hope you enjoyed me overthinking about a song lol.

#alan wake #alan wake 2 #alan wake 2 spoilers #alice wake #alan wake x alice wake #song attribution

[hopepaigeturner]

Benedict is the Bridgerton's emotional support animal. 'nuff said.

Did I get tumblr just so I can respond to this @murielstacy post? Possibly...

Is my English Literature brain hyper-analysing stuff? Perhaps...

Am I procrastinating my preparation for my masters? Absolutely! But here we go!

"It's an essay for another time but I think that after Edmund's death, Anthony went into duty mode whilst Benedict went into jokester mode." (@murielstacy)

100% AGREE! And this post is, hopefully, that essay.

But I want to go one step further and argue that after Edmund's death, while Anthony ensured that the family survived within society, Benedict ensured that his siblings survived emotionally/mentally.

I believe this is something they hint at in the show, but I would love it to be teased out as it can link with some of Benedict's anxieties/conflicts in his book. I am going to be focusing on the show portrayal of Benedict more than book, but I'm sure you'll see some similarities...

But first: Evidence.

Benedict is a caring boi.

Throughout the show, (particularly S2), Benedict is shown to be a character who can deal with/provide emotional support.

Already the lovely @sophiamariabeckett has done a really in-depth review of Benedict's poem here.

But generally, the poem showed was that Benedict is ready to be in love, he is actively seeking it unlike Anthony who does the complete opposite at the beginning of S2.

It also shows that Benedict is quite expressive and in tune with his emotions. Anthony bottles his emotions inside, but Benedict expresses them, whether through his conversations with Eloise or through poetry. Poetry is a form of expressing emotion/thoughts of the mind onto a page, even if said poems are never spoken aloud.

So, Benedict is open to emotion, attuned to them and capable of understanding them. We can say that Anthony is a very analytical person while Benedict is an emotional one.

In S2e5 Benedict meets Tessa. Initially, Benedict seems to be attracted to her beauty. But when they have a conversation, he discusses her art leading to pronounce she is “ingenious”—here, complimenting her intelligence rather than appearance. Benedict is showing her a level of respect, treating her as an equal artist even if her title or gender do not pertain it. (I could do a whole another post about Benedict respecting women).

The scene continues. While his approach to modelling is over-exaggerated and flirtatious, he does not hesitate to fulfil Tessa's wish--the wish of a stranger. Perhaps some might interpret Benedict's eagerness as a ploy to attract Tessa, but I think it mainly shows that he is comfortable/experienced with letting others use him for their needs.

More importantly, this entire interaction highlights that Benedict is capable of understanding Tessa's motivations, showcasing his empathy. Tessa does talk about her motivations but interestingly, it is Benedict who spells them out himself; "So, you works as a model as a way of learning form the lectures...". This demonstrates Benedict's ability to put himself in someone else's shoes and understand their motivations/emotions behind their actions. AKA He is being empathetic.

Overall, Benedict's is willing to engage in emotions, is empathetic and respectful as well as willing to fulfil other’s needs.

2. Benedict and Eloise's Relationship.

Benedict’s relationship with Eloise highlights how his qualities, stated above, play out with his siblings.

Take the Bridgerton’s entrance into the Lady Danbury’s ball in S2e1. Initially Benedict seems to be mocking Eloise with that, somehow hilarious, imitation of a cow. (Although we should notice it distracts her from her nerves for a moment). However, as soon as the young Lord approaches Eloise, Benedict’s jokey demeanour drops and he immediately finds a way to remove Eloise from, what would be, a stressful/uncomfortable situation. Benedict might joke to Eloise about her ideals and opinions, but when it comes to it, he deeply cares for her. Benedict not only jokes with his siblings, but he also provides escape or refuge.

Again, in the final episode we see this deep love mixed with that selflessness I discussed in the point above. When they are on the swings, Benedict listens to Eloise without any jokes. And when she laments about going to the ball, dreading the gossip and whispers, Benedict instantly offers to accompany her.

Now remember, at this point Benedict is feeling crap. He has just been told that his acceptance into the academy was based on his name, therefore our lovely self-deprecating boy is thinking that all his work, all his friends and his sense of belonging was based on a lie. He is not an artist; he is nothing more than a Bridgerton. He feels worthless, crushed, demoralised. But as soon as he sees Eloise is also struggling, he offers to aid her.

He does not have to go to the ball, unlike Eloise, he could easily go to his club and drown his sorrows, but because Eloise needs him, he will shelf his own feelings and prioritise hers.

With Eloise we once more see Benedict’s selflessness and his ability to perceive other’s emotions—even if that means ignoring his own.

QUICK NOTE: Concerning the other siblings there are many short little moments that show the same care for them. In season 1 there are background interactions with the others. Most notably in S2, when Anthony lashes out in S2e8, Benedict defends Colin. But I would love the writer to expand on this next season, I’d love to see his relationship with Francesca and other siblings—not only Eloise

3. Benedict & Anthony. AKA Benedict is Anthony’s emotional support animal.

Ok, ok, the title is a joke, but I think a lot of the fandom sleeps on the bond between Anthony and Benedict. A bond that showcases most explicitly their roles post-Edmund’s death.

Anthony Bridgerton is a very closed-off individual, who does not like to discuss, interogae or reveals feelings and emotions. He hates accepting or seeking help because he believes it is a sign of failure. But who is the one person he confides in? Benedict.

Who is the one person to whom he voices his initial irritation about Kate while they are shaving? Benedict.

Who is the one person who he goes to for poetry advice? Benedict.

Who is the one person he visits when everything is crumbling around him in episode 7? Benedict, even though it is during a party.

The only person Anthony allows himself to turn to is Benedict, not his mother, but Benedict.

Let’s look at a couple of Benedict’s actions with Anthony.

S2e2 Benedict and Anthony Poetry scene:

Anthony barges in and demands Benedict’s help, not seeming to listen to Benedict’s protests. Benedict’s conversation with the cartoonist concerned Benedict’s interests and even Benedict’s future. But Benedict still leaves the conversation to help Anthony.

S2e6 Bridgertons reactions to Edwina running out of the church.

While ultimately oblivious to the true issue at hand, Benedict instantly tries to reassure Anthony numerous times. He is ultimately the one that recognises and suggests that Anthony needs to be alone. He helps Anthony escape from the clamouring cacophony of his family.

S2e8 Anthony brings Kate home after the accident:

Obviously, the characters in this scene are focusing on Kate’s health. Everyone is asking after Kate, worried about Kate etc. Who is the ONLY person that asks after Anthony’s state of mind? Benedict. Who is the ONLY person that tries to follow Anthony out of that room while Anthony is basically on the verge of a panic attack? Benedict.

I could do a whole separate post about these two boys and their bond, but I think these examples show that before Kate, Benedict was the one Antony relied upon. It also shows that Benedict accepts such a role, and like with Eloise, will prioritise Anthony’s wellbeing.

So, this is why I believe the claim that Benedict helped support his siblings emotionally after his father’s death is not so far-fetched. The potential is utterly there, the writers have portrayed Benedict as an empathetic, emotionally astute caretaker, who selflessly helps ensure his sibling’s wellbeing even if at the expense of his own.

SO WHAT? Benedict is emotional, Benedict is romantic it doesn’t mean anything…

But let us wind the clock back to 1804, the days/weeks after Edmund’s death:

Post-death we have Anthony trying to keep the family afloat; balancing chequebooks and tutors and tenants and the estate. An Anthony who is also trying to deal with his own grief about his father, the one person he was closest to. He does not have time for children to knock on his study door, he has no time for games or reading stories.

Post-death we have Violet Bridgerton who falls into a deep depression, barely able to get through a family dinner let alone capable of providing the emotional support for her children.

Post-death you have six other children all under the age of 12 who must navigate their way through grief and work out how they are to live in a world without a father.

And you have 16-year-old Benedict. An emotionally astute, empathetic boy, who changes from being a big brother to being the big brother. A big brother who, like all the Bridgertons, loves his family.

I do not think it is too much of a stretch to believe that Benedict filled that gaping emotional support for his siblings. Anthony might have to keep the door shut, but Benedict does not. I think it is very plausible that Benedict spends these formative years, (remember he is merely 16) making sure his family smiles, making sure his siblings cope with their grief, and helping them learn how to function/be without their father. He reads stories, listens, comforts and supports because he is the eldest now, it is his duty. Not to mention in the rare moments Anthony reaches out, he goes to the one person he knows will always listen and never let him down—Benedict.

So, picture a young boy, now a grown man, who has spent years shouldering his family’s emotional burdens; being the sole confident for Anthony; and putting his own wellbeing second.

Is it any wonder that Benedict has no idea who he is? Is it any wonder that Benedict merely sees himself as a Bridgerton and nothing else, when for years his focus was purely on his family? Benedict has not had time to prioritise his own grief, he has not had the space to work out who he was, what his identity is, in a world without his father because he was ensuring everyone else did.

In a way, he is like Anthony. Both, due to sacrificing for their family, have neglected being their true selves. Therefore, we could argue that Benedict might share some of the similar insecurities that Anthony does; an inability to truly be himself, the need to keep a facade amongst his siblings; an insecurity about his worth, a worth that is validated by society and his family.

All us viewers know is that he is emotionally available, soft boi who would take on any pain, any burden for those he loved.

But all Benedict knows, is that he is a brother, and he is a Bridgerton.

Sound familiar book fans?

FIN

Yeah…I’m just really passionate about this (if that was not obvious). If anyone has read any of my fics you’ll see these ideas very prevalent in my characterisation of Benedict. I hope this is something they highlight further in the show, especially in the run-up and in S4. I could probably do a part 3 of how this would link with Benophie.

Or I’m just a bit barmy and has just spent a ridiculous number of words for nothing—up to you! Let me know what you think. My degree was in English Lit so my brain is now hard-wired to analyse stuff, so if you like this stuff and want to see more—let me know.

Thanks for reading my little spiel!

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton family #anthony bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #family dynamics #an offer from a gentleman #give this man his Sophie!!! #emotional labour is still LABOUR #our soft boi needs more appreciation #bridgerton analysis #show analysis #the word count slipped #a little #a lot #sorry not sorry?

[truebluewhocanoe]

Any particular Dr Nyarlathotep headcanons/musings pertaining to the second and fifth doctors? What you've written so far is fantastic and It's interesting to see what people think would fit the traditionally more unassuming doctors

Oooh, that is an excellent question! Actually, I've got a Dr Nyarlathotep-y Fifth Doctor one-shot in the works right now. I won't give too much detail but my headcanons for him boil down to two ideas: 1. A lot of Nyarlathotep Five art has angelic or 'biblically accurate angel' vibes. I like this a lot and would also add onto the white/gold color scheme and general aesthetic of the Sin Eaters and Lightwardens from Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers

Here's two examples to get the vibe:

The other Nyarlathotep vibe idea I have for Five is that he's still got bits leftover from the Watcher in him. My specific headcanon for the Watcher is that he's a future version of the Doctor from a timeline where the entropy destroyed the universe, just clinging onto existence becaues Nyarlathotep (and also maybe Timeless Child). The universe already having been destroyed means he had nothing to lose by going back in time and rewriting events, but, paid the price in that he- the focal point of the two timelines- would merge back into his original self, which would be lethal and cause a regeneration. So, 4 didn't die of fall damage at all, he died to the entropy effects in the Watcher. Here's some more on that idea in this fic, and how it might manifest in 5, in this post. And stay tuned for that one-shot I'm writing- it'll hopefully go up today or tomorrow!

I don't really have any specific fleshed-out ideas for 2. I really like his "oooh I'm just a little guy (who's going to out-maneuver you at the last second when you least expect it)" dynamic but I'm not 100% sure where to go for a full Dr Nyarlathotep headcanon for him. I'll have to think on it! I do know I'd like the monochrome visuals of the 1st and 2nd Doctors' eras to be incorporated into their form somehow. Maybe when 2 unfurls his Nyarly form he just kinda, folds out like an origami. Get back to me later on that one

Thank you thank you thank you for coming into my ask box, I love talking about Dr Nyarlathotep stuff (or anything with the show really, it doesn't have to be Nyarly related) and this helps me get my creative juices flowing!

#doctor who #second doctor #fifth doctor #dr nyarlathotep #sorry to everyone who's watching my feed for all the star beast stuff im reblogging #no just kidding im not sorry #gotta watch more second doctors episodes i know

[spymaster-and-socialite]

CHARACTER  STUDY.

stolen from @rhogeminid hehehe! 

LAYER 001 :    THE OUTSIDE.

NAME  :   john andre 

EYE   COLOR  :   dark blue 

HAIR   STYLE   /   COLOR  :   brown, tied back in a queue, with a stupid little braid dangling on one side 

HEIGHT  :   6'1 

CLOTHING   STYLE  :   when he’s not in uniform, he’s probably wearing his Slutty Robe TM or some similar stupid looking white ruffled thing (or nothing at all...) 

BEST   PHYSICAL   FEATURE  :   hmmm uhhh well i really like the shape of his nose and mouth lol, they’re very satisfying to me for some reason... but also. Buff Arms 

LAYER 002 :    THE  INSIDE.

FEARS  :   failure, humiliation/embarrassment, loss, death, blood/gore 

GUILTY   PLEASURE  :   hoeing around? LOL just kidding... drawing things only for himself that he doesn’t show to other people (he has a separate sketchbook for that) 

BIGGEST   PET   PEEVE  :   people that have zero disregard for logic/caution and just barge forward with hasty and risky plans. also, people who are rude just because they can, such as to servants 

AMBITIONS   FOR   THE   FUTURE  :   marry peggy... that’s literally it. hopefully without dying.  also winning the war and getting some kind of social status boost from it would be a plus, but if he can manage not to die and get to marry peggy, then he’d probably be willing to lose tbh lol

LAYER 003 :   THOUGHTS.

FIRST   THOUGHTS   WAKING   UP  :  andre is one of those annoying people who wakes up energized and cheerful most of the time and is like ‘cant wait to see what the day brings! :3′. unless it’s s3 and he’s in his depressed era... then he wakes up from a terrible night’s sleep and thinks ‘UGGHHHHHH’ and then about how much of an awful person and a failure he is 

WHAT   THEY   THINK   ABOUT   MOST  :   peggy. also, peggy. and did i mention peggy? art that pertains to peggy. books that remind him of peggy. every once in a blue moon he has a thought about spying... but then he goes back to thinking about peggy. he’s in love and it’s so stupid of him 

WHAT   THEY   THINK   ABOUT   BEFORE   BED  :   elaborate future plans that involve mentally mapping out the entire rest of his life point by point, or making up random stories in his head that have nothing to do with the war till he falls asleep bc honestly this man is so sick of fighting in a war LOL. also horny thoughts about peggy

WHAT   THEY   THINK   THEIR   BEST   QUALITY   IS  :   his people skills, and how much he genuinely cares about other people 

LAYER 004 :    WHAT’S BETTER ?

SINGLE   OR   GROUP   DATES  :   single date, because it’s more ~romantic~ and he would get stage fright trying to play a sappy flute solo in front of a group LOL

TO   BE   LOVED   OR   RESPECTED  :   oh, definitely loved. being universally loved is literally all he wants... and plus, there’s an inherent kind of respect that goes along with love, and he’d much rather have that than the kind of respect that accompanies fear and resentment. 

BEAUTY   OR   BRAINS  :    everyone thinks that andre is just into hot people, and i mean, he DOES have standards when it comes to appearance, but what will actually get him to fall for someone is what’s inside their head. yeah, peggy is hot, but she’s also his intellectual equal, and that’s both what drew him to her in more than just a superficial way, and what makes his love for her permanent

DOGS   OR   CATS  :    andre seems like a cat person lol, but he’s probably kind of clueless around all animals 

LAYER 005 :    DO THEY…

LIE  :   for his job, yeah, but it’s not something he’s super proud of. he does a lot of things he’s not super proud of for his job, unfortunately 

BELIEVE   IN   THEMSELVES  :   somehow simultaneously way too much and not at all 

BELIEVE   IN   LOVE  :   he isn’t sure until he meets peggy tbh

WANT   SOMEONE  :    he goes from desperately wanting everyone to love him to desperately wanting one specific person to love him, and that’s kind of a scary feeling 

LAYER 006 :    HAVE THEY EVER…

BEEN   ON   STAGE  :   HAHA yes and he’s somehow played, like, every shakespeare character ever 

DONE   DRUGS  :   no

CHANGED   WHO   THEY   WERE   TO   FIT   IN  :   unfortunately andre does this reflexively as soon as he walks into a room of people, he really struggles to actually be himself because of all the pressure he puts on himself to be liked by everyone 

LAYER 007 :    FAVORITES.

FAVORITE   COLOR  :    hmm probably something annoying like ‘the exact shade of blue that peggy’s eyes are’ 

FAVORITE   ANIMAL  :     ooh idk... he doesn’t seem like a huge animal person but maybe cats?  

FAVORITE   BOOK  :    everything ever written by shakespeare... sigh he’s so annoying (affectionate)

FAVORITE   GAME  :     the “game” of life (UGH lol) 

LAYER 008 :    AGE.  

DAY   THEIR   NEXT   BIRTHDAY   WILL   BE  :   may 2nd 

HOW   OLD   WILL   THEY   BE  :   30 (and it’s gonna be his last birthday.... SORRY)

LAYER 009 :    FINISH THE SENTENCE.

I   LOVE  :    too deeply. 

I   FEEL  :    ashamed. 

I   HIDE  :    my true feelings. 

I   MISS  :    who i thought i was. 

I   WISH  :    i could turn back time. 

#classified information #(god i love him so much) #(this was so much fun hehe ill have to do peggy tomorrow) #about john andre

[tobiasdrake]

A body has been discovered! Beginning second investigation.

HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK!?!? GONTA is the LEGENDARY SUPER SAIYAN!? But he was such a polite and soft-spoken boy! Man, I was not prepared for that turn of events.

It's a shame that we don't know we're in space. We could just throw Kokichi out the airlock. I was thinking about this on Jabberwock Island. The whole class trial process only begins after three or more people discover a body, so if we weighted down Nagito and chucked him into the ocean, nobody would ever find the body and no punishment would ensue. Same goes for chucking Kokichi out an airlock, if we had access to one.

In our haste to return the Kubs Pads to their rooms, I feel like we overlooked an important detail. We gave the Pads to Monodam, which means we just had to hope he mixes them all up again. I bet you he didn't. That's gotta be related to why Ryoma's dead, if not necessarily pertaining to how.

This one's going to be complicated. Cases involving magicians' arts always are. The chief question here, of course, is how Ryoma got into the tank. He was handcuffed and drowned when we found him. He can't have been dropped in with the piranhas or they would have eaten him already. Somehow his body found its way into that tank after Himiko exited it?

Mmm. I'll need to examine the tank. There was that big curtain over like a third of it, right? It's possible that Ryoma's body was already in the tank when the show began, and it was just concealed from Himiko.

Hard to imagine many people here could have handcuffed Ryoma like that, though. Dude was outpacing Broly with flash steps. He's slippery, but the handcuffs imply someone managed to overpower or restrain him somehow. So we can probably start off with the base assumption that anyone who couldn't outrun Gonta is probably not a suspect. That means....

Kaito

Kirumi

Maki

Miu

I doubt Miu is proficient in fisticuffs. If she was going to do a murder, it'd probably be more technical than this. We can probably discount her.

So our prime suspects, starting off, are Kaito, Kirumi, and Maki. Shit, I wish I remembered what exactly Gonta said about each of them. I only remember that he left Kirumi alone because she was busy. So she's not technically proven to be able to evade Gonta, but she still has this whole extremely dangerous vibe to her so I'm counting her anyway.

#danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #killing harmony #ryoma hoshi #kaito momota #kirumi tojo #maki harukawa #gonta gokuhara #kokichi oma

[the-heart-of-leo]

AO3 First Lines

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

(I dislike tagging people but if you want to do this, go ahead! Also, I might end up using the first paragraph rather than the first lines as I tend to start my writing simple. I’ve also listed warnings pertaining to the fic)

1 - The Improbability of a Long Life -  Stranger Things/The Old Guard crossover

Eddie knew he thought about death more than the average teenager. Not in a goth ‘life is misery and death is the only escape’ kind of way but in the ‘if the party dies, what’s a good plot point to let them come back’ or, if he’s feeling bit evil, ‘how cool of a player death can I come up with’.

2 - The Stars in Their Eyes - The Sequel to ‘For Want of a Home’. The Old Guard, Joe/Nicky, Omegaverse Crusaders Era Fic, Non-graphic/implied rape and non-grapic/implied forced breeding toward the end of the fic

Al-Quds was burning.

Even now, with the sky as bloody red as the bloody sand beneath his feet, he could see the smoke rising up behind what was left of the walls.

Al-Quds was lost.

Yusuf sat on his knees and stared up at the smoke, the dark stain of it cutting into the sky as the city glowed in its fiery death. The air stank with the smell of blood, of smoke, of burning flesh…

3 - What is Lost and What Can Be Found -  The Old Guard/Diabolik fic that I probably should update sooner rather than later... as such, I can’t give any real warnings at the moment

Nicky hated interrogation rooms.

They were always cramped, cold, and incredibly boring, no doubt in the hope that when the security officer finally came around to ask their questions, their suspect would be eager to talk if only to break the silence.

Airport interrogation rooms were somehow worse. Smaller, duller, and made all the worse by the inconvenience.

4 - Before the Fall -  Waves/Wolf/Diabolik Kenzarelli crossover - Majid/Gabriele

Getting stabbed was one of the worse experiences Majid had ever had and that was saying something.

The wad of bandages pressed to his stomach and taped in place were doing a decent enough job of keeping his blood in his body but it did nothing for the pain.

"Your dad's a fucking psycho," he hissed at Gabriele. He pressed a hand over the wound to try and keep the bandage tight against his body, to staunch the blood more. "Who the hell just fucking stabs someone! He didn't even say anything!"

5 - For Want of a Home - The Old Guard, Joe/Nicky omegaverse Crusaders Era fic

The fabric was a deep burgundy, stuffed, quilted, and lined with beaded gold edging with tassels at the corners. It was a work of art and far more expensive than anything Nicolò could ever afford. Still, he gently ran a finger over the stitch work, following the line as it crossed over stitches until they formed a diamond in the fabric.

It was so soft…

It could be used as the floor of a nest or maybe even the ceiling if he found a way to hang it up so that it acted as a tent... but that would be so wasteful, not to feel the soft fabric, not to wrap it around them to keep the safe and warm and...

6 - The Sun and the Rose -  Lawrence of Arabia, Soul mark AU, has a graphic rape scene in later chapters

His soulmark was fairly small, only as big as the length of his thumb, but he always thought it beautiful in its simplicity. Gracefully arching lines wrapping around an empty center that made him think of blooming flowers — roses to be specific. Something beautiful and fragile that Ali never tired of seeing.

It was a shock to see the familiar design, pale on his dark skin, reflected in contrast on the sleeping man’s chest. The dark lines against skin still pale thanks to the unflattering uniform, so different from the pale pink, almost scar-like lines marking his own breast.

Lawrence was a confusing creature. Passionate, kind, and foolish in his determination and will. A creature the desert both loves and loathes…

And the one the desert has decided his soul belongs with.

7 - Of Truth and Blood - Lawrence of Arabia, Mild Ali/Lawrence, Character Injury, Past rape, trauma concerning everything really

The blood was spreading.

Ali was sure of it now.

It was on his side, easily hidden by his bisht, by the table, and now by the dim candlelight as the power had finally gone out. The dried blood on the filthy white thawb did a good job of covering most of it and, he was sure, no one else noticed it but him.

Aurens certainly gave no indication of being injured.

He never did.

8 - Persistence of Memory - Power Rangers: Dino Charge/Shattered Grid, Implied Koda/Phillip, Character Death, Character’s unhealthy coping habits

Once something is broken, it can never be put back together exactly as it was.

That was the warning they had all been given when the multiverse was reinstated and when those who had been lost had found a way to return. Those whose power was stolen were given their second chance as well as something close enough to home to return to. The Solar Rangers, their purpose complete for now, had disbanded and joined their first families where they belonged.

For the most part.

9 - Propriety, Modesty, and the Lack Thereof - Power Rangers: Dino Charge, Koda/Phillip, Short fluff, play fighting turned fade to black times.

Prince Phillip had been taught many things growing up as a royal: proper etiquette, modesty, propriety, manners – whatever you wanted to call it, it was how he was raised. Always be well-dressed in flattering but neutral colors, always been well-groomed, to never raise one's voice, always present one's self as being in control: someone trustworthy and regal.

Princes did not rough-house. They did not allow themselves to be manhandled, carried, dragged, pushed, pinned, or any other thing that would insult the dignity of his station.

Which only made the embarrassed flush of arousal worse.

10 - Flowers Bloom in the Scars Left Behind - Detroit: Become Human, Simarkus, Kinda slowburn romance, a year in the life kind of deal, too many pairings to name, drug addiction, etc

It had been a little over two years since Simon had last celebrated a Christmas. His former owner, Amy, had loved Christmas and Halloween and any other holiday that required decorating the house. As soon as it became socially acceptable (and sometimes not), she would start setting things up.

To be honest, Simon had enjoyed it too.

At Jericho, there was no reason for celebrations, nothing to decorate or to decorate with. The holidays were a melancholy time for them all, bringing with them memories that were a mix of good and bad, depending on their previous lives.

#My Writing #Fanfiction #I won't spam the fandom tags with this

[elisaenglish]

Incipit Vita Nova

“So that all ended with her eyes, Hell, Purgatory, Paradise.”

-Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Dante at Verona-

In 1294, Dante Alighieri published his autobiographical prosimetrum, La Vita Nuova. Detailing his adoration for his muse, Beatrice Portinari, and adhering to the prevailing contemporary preference for courtly love—how via lyric one may arrive at transcendent intellectual truths and their consequential blessings—he frames it fondly as his little book, a volume of “la loro sentenzia”. Art as it pertains to self, to existence; or thus, in translation, words imbued with essential meaning.

At the outset, he writes:

“Nine times, the heaven of the light had returned to where it was at my birth, almost to the very same point of its orbit, when the glorious lady of my mind first appeared before my eyes—she whom many called Beatrice without even knowing that was her name. She had already been in this life long enough for the heaven of the fixed stars to have moved toward the east a twelfth of a degree since she was born, so that she was at the beginning of her ninth year when she appeared to me, and I saw her when I was almost at the end of my ninth. She appeared, dressed in a very stately colour, a subdued and dignified crimson, girdled and adorned in a manner that was fitting for her young age.

At that time, truly, I say, the vital spirit, which dwells in the innermost chamber of the heart, started to tremble so powerfully that its disturbance reached all the way to the slightest of my pulses. And trembling it spoke these words: “Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur michi.” Here is a god stronger than I, who comes to rule me.

[...]

From then on, I swear that Love dominated my soul, which was wedded to him so early, and began to rule me with such confidence and power, by means of the force my imagination lent him, there was no choice but for me to do whatever he wanted. Time after time he ordered me to search for where I might glimpse this youthful angel; so that in my boyhood I went searching for her often, and observed that her bearing was so dignified and praiseworthy that it can truly be said of her as Homer wrote: “She did not seem the daughter of a mortal man, but rather of a god.” And even though her image, which was constantly with me, was the means by which Love ruled me, it was so dignified in its power that it never allowed Love to govern me without the faithful counsel of reason, in those matters where such guidance was helpful. Since dwelling on the passions and actions of one so young is like telling a tall tale, I will leave that behind; and passing over many things that could be copied from the same source, I come to words written in my memory under larger paragraphs.”

As sources of revelations go, both passage and preface continue to intrigue those minds predisposed to such concepts as romantic symmetry, its Platonic roots, and the symbiotic interplay between the metaphysical and the aesthetic—power pitched as mortal yet no less potent in its core sublimity than that wielded by a cosmic hand, divine. But my sense of who I am is somewhat less of a fated dominion and more of a chosen whole. My “far reaches of beatitude” have pooled here, in me. A juxtapositional miracle, perhaps—to be transported back and somehow on. And fuck, how the weight has lifted. And no, I can’t know the degree of permanence. No one can. Because Beatrice may be conjured forth—the “lo mi senti’ svegliar dentro a lo core” or “I felt my heart awaken”—but there are no Cassandras to proffer more. Nor do I need them.

Instead a fine tranquility settles where the grief once lived in stages too numerous to list. “Vide cor tuum,” Dante writes. Behold your heart. Behold. Hence for the love of your life. Hence for hope. As for vision, it is here—deep where I’ve stolen from the crowd and made myself a space to dwell in devotionals and freedoms. Ones that only I know, we know, as close to perfect as we float and sentient of scars.

Darling dream, September—amongst the mythic forecast, I am me. Within or out; it’s all the same, this magic and this constance. And when they ask, “Per cui t’ha così distrutto questo Amore?”—Over whom are you so wrecked by Love?—I will look at them, as Dante does, smile “and tell them nothing”.

#writing #quote #love #life #happiness #selfhood #meaning #existential musings #all eternal things #love in a time of... #intelligence quotients #depth perception #understanding beyond thought #literary sensibilities #perspective matters #feeling a moment #beata beatrix #in your eyes #everything you and me #coming out of the dark #intertextuality of sorts #this is who i am #elisa english #elisaenglish

[xyztrio721]

As promised, here are my thoughts/screenshots pertaining to the second half of Chapter 1 of Xenoblade Chronicles 3.

Warning: Chapter 1 Spoilers Under the Cut

I have multiple screenshots of the battle between Noah, Lanz, Eunie, Mio, Sena, and Taion. This first one was meant to capture Mio, Sena, and Taion in their armor after the Keves group broke their helmets, but as you can see, I didn’t quite time the screenshot correctly, so you can’t see Mio’s face.

I don’t remember why I took this next screenshot, but if I had to guess, I was trying to add another screenshot of Noah to my collection of Noah screenshots (which, by the way, I took four new screenshots of Noah over the course of Chapter 2. Can you tell that he’s my favorite character in the game?).

Speaking of screenshots of Noah, here’s one I took of him and Mio right before Gunerica Vandam stopped the fighting between the Keves and Agnus groups. So far, this is one of my favorite shots in all of Xenoblade 3.

And now… Wild Ride, A.K.A D.

I can’t tell you how PUMPED I was to fight him, not only because he was the first true boss of the game, but because of this:

AW YEAH, OUROBOROS TIME!

I LOVE to fight as the Ouroboros. They’re freaking awesome to use, and every time I land an Art as an Ouroboros, I feel a great amount of satisfaction.

Too bad the excitement only lasted until D fled the battle, because after that… the tears began to fall. Here are three screenshots of Noah and Mio sending off Gunerica Vandham.

The above screenshot… its so tragic, yet so beautiful…

If I remember correctly, this shot was seen at the end of the second trailer for Xenoblade 3, right before the release date and Special Edition were revealed. It feels bittersweet to finally be able to see this scene in context, considering what said context was…

Oh, and I almost forgot. Here’s one final screenshot, featuring N’s first appearance in the game. You can barely tell that it’s him, but trust me, it’s him.

N… who are you? Do you and Noah have some kind of connection, considering your design and how you appeared in Noah’s trailer but not Mio’s? What is your goal? Are you truly on the side of the Consuls, or are you going to pull an Alvis and lead Noah to victory behind the Consuls’ backs? 

I haven’t seen N since this cutscene, but maybe I’ll get a better look at him and catch a glimpse of his motives in Chapter 3 (assuming he shows up in the chapter at all).

I have two more things to say, and that will be it for this post:

1. The moment they showed Mwamba’s Timestamp and everyone started talking about his Homecoming, I just KNEW he wasn’t going to live to see that day, and sure enough, I was right.

2. Gunerica Vandham had two fellow soldiers named Yew and Zuo, which if you’ve played Xenoblade 2, you would recognize those two as the two people who assisted XC2′s Vandham with the Garfont Mercenaries. Makes me wonder if the two Vandham’s are connected somehow…

But that can’t be possible, right? If you’ve played Xenoblade 2, you know what happened to Vandham in that game. There’s no way he could have been brought back to life only to die in Alfeto Valley, right…?

So many questions, so few answers… maybe Chapter 3 will begin to provide some answers as to what the hell is going on with the war as Chapter 2 did to some degree.

#xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles 3 #xenoblade chronicles 3 spoilers #xenoblade 3 spoilers #xc3 spoilers #xb3 spoilers #I can’t wait to talk about Chapter 2 #so far it’s my favorite chapter of the game though that may not be the most fair statement to make #since I’ve only cleared one other chapter aside form Chapter 2 #but my point still stands Chapter 2 was fantastic

[hogwartsfirebolt]

Desvelo (or: The Case of Subject A1534: Harry James Potter)

Draco turned on the recorder as soon as he walked into the lab. Two of his colleagues stood by the main table, fastening the unconscious subject’s limbs, and a third one handed him his notes, which he took without looking up as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.

There was a hum of magic around the body, keeping it safe, keeping it still. He forced himself not to think too hard about who it belonged to.

“What’s the status?” he asked the room at large, approaching the table.

“Alive, under a magically induced coma to prevent strain to the core. We haven’t identified the curse,” replied Zeller, holding her hands over the subject’s head to hold the charm. Draco nodded at her, turned his face towards the recorder and spoke clearly.

“This is Draco Malfoy, code DM17008512, head of the Dark Arts BioStudies division, reporting from Level 9, on the 25th of June, 2008.” He walked around the exam table, lowered Zeller’s charms and replaced them with his own, finding the subject’s vitals with his magical awareness. “Subject A1534, Harry James Potter, is alive, kept under a magical coma. Slight bradycardia, as expected, blood pressure of 110/60, core unstable at 250 joules and climbing by the second.”

The manic energy of Harry’s magic zinged his forearms, crazed, looking for an outlet. Draco felt it around his fingers, underneath his nails. He clenched his teeth.

“This is Rose Zeller,” she picked up as he fell silent, “code RZ19003276, member of the Dark Arts BioStudies division, reporting from Level 9 on the 25th of June, 2008. Subject Harry James Potter arrived unconscious in the emergency department of St Mungo’s Hospital in the early hours of the 24th of June, 2008, and was referred to the Dark Arts Biostudies division that very morning, after the medics failed to identify the curse responsible for his condition.”

Draco knew all that, and yet it made his hackles rise once again to remember what the medics had said, the call he’d received the previous day, informing him of his new subject. He looked at Harry’s prone form now, the easy rise and fall of his chest as the coma imitated sleep, the peaceful drop of his eyelids, and had to will himself not to think as he ran his hands down the tan neck, the long clavicles. This was just a subject, he told himself. Nothing was different. He cleared his throat, “Curse entry identified over second rib, at midclavicular line on the right side. Trifocal, seeming to suggest a curse of the Imperial family. No exit mark apparent upon inspection.”

He took his hands off the body, clasping them together so he could pretend they weren’t shaking, and retracted his magic, pulling it free of the magnet of Harry’s. It was quiet, only the static hum of the spells keeping Harry unconscious broke the silence of the insular room. His soft breaths. The occasional brush of Zeller’s pen against paper. Draco tried not to stare, and couldn’t. There was so much brown naked skin on display, so much history, that no matter how hard he attempted to root himself to the present, he found himself falling into memories of that body, of those hands, of years of watching. Years of wanting.

“No exit mark apparent upon inspection,” he repeated. Made up his mind. “Impossible to reach further conclusions until the subject is woken up. Zeller, Nott, rennervate him. I shall stabilize his core.”

It was a testament to how far he’d come that neither of them thought to argue. They moved, one of them standing at each of Harry’s sides, and Draco stayed near his head, reaching towards his core with his magic, coaxing it into stillness, easing it from the entropy the curse had unleashed.

“Rennervate,” Zeller and Nott whispered in unison.

Harry’s core cells shook against Draco’s hold, fought the intrusion for a moment, but he held on, and soon enough Harry’s eyes popped open, frantic, his body immediately battling the restraints, thrashing, attempting to free his arms and legs, to flee. But still Draco held on, and at last, when Harry looked up and their eyes met, he stopped struggling, as sudden as a bucket of water dousing a fire.

“Potter,” Draco muttered through clenched teeth, as he reined in Harry’s core cells. “You need to tell us what they hit you with.”

He felt Zeller’s magic join his own, take some of the brunt of Harry’s magic, lift a bit of weight off his shoulders. His breaths came more easily.

“W-what?” Harry asked, still confused, still looking at Draco, only at Draco.

“You’re in the Department of Mysteries,” Draco said, “you were attacked. Do you remember what they hit you with?”

“I don’t— what? Department of— Do I know you?”

“Boss, his core is nearing 300 joules,” Nott said. “We need to put him down again.”

But Draco barely heard him. “You don’t remember me?”

Harry blinked, confused, tried to stand up, shook his wrists against his restraints when he found he couldn’t. “No. I was hit?”

“Yes, with a curse. Did you have the chance to hear what it was?” Zeller asked when Draco, stunned into silence, didn’t continue the interrogation.

“A curse? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry said. “Did you kidnap me? I — what’s happening?”

“Boss, core at 325”

“You’re the boss?” Harry asked Draco, looking right into his eyes once again. “I thought… you feel familiar but I don’t really—?”

“Boss, 350.”

“Mr Potter,” Rose said, “We really need you to...”

“Potter?” Harry asked.

Draco felt faint.

“360”

“Am I—?” Harry didn’t look away from Draco, his eyes pleading.

“380”

“Put him down,” Draco said.

Nott did.

The silence that followed ringed in Draco’s ears. They were all quiet, stunned into it. Harry lay unconscious on the table once again. Draco could still hear his pained confusion.

“Subject appears to suffer from severe amnesia,” he said at last. “Recording over.”

-

They’d kissed once.

It could almost have been passed off as an accident, brief and light as it was.

To Draco, it counted.

It had been four years before, the night Harry graduated from the Auror Academy. Him and the other 24 graduates had piled up into a bar and made a big deal of it, gotten drunk out of their minds. Draco’s presence had been a mere coincidence, his getting drunk a very conscious decision once he’d seen the boisterous, red-coated lot.

His memories were confusing, the images blurring into each other as the night progressed in increasingly drunker increments, but he remembered stumbling into the bathroom and finding Harry there, broad shoulders free of his coat, with Ron weeping into his arm and saying, “I just love you so much, you’re my best friend I love you sooo—“ and Harry patting his shoulder and saying, “I know, I know, I love you too.” He remembered, somehow, ending up at their table. Doing shots with them. A confusing few minutes on the dance floor. He remembered standing outside the bar in the rain and then, right there, the kiss. He couldn’t remember what had led up to it, but the fact of it had sobered him up immediately, and he remembered it, crystal clear, himself leaning against the wall, wet from the rain, and Harry, a long line of heat along his side, their lips pressed together. He remembered pushing for more, and then Harry pulling back. Harry saying, “Oh god.”

Then, the night dissolved in his mind and the next thing he remembered was waking up the following morning, hungover.

He’d not seen Harry for weeks after that, and when they’d finally met again at an interdepartmental meeting, Harry had given him a mere nod, eyes sliding right past him. As if nothing had happened. Perhaps, to him, it hadn’t. But to Draco, it counted.

-

“What’s the plan now, boss?” Nott asked him, droplets of sweat high on his brow from maintaining the charm keeping Harry down.

Draco took a deep breath. “We got some information. Find all references to amnesia linked to a curse of the Imperial class on the records.”

“On it.” Zeller said.

Harry lay unconscious once again, incongruous in the calmness of his induced sleep. A tamed lion. Draco reached forward, removed his glasses, folded the temples carefully. Then, he ran his knuckles along the dark, freckled cheekbones.

“I’m going to talk to The Professor,” he said. His colleagues hummed their assent.

The Professor’s office stood right at the end of Level 9, a door you might not see if it didn’t feel like being seen, in a corridor that, at times, didn’t exist at all. Fitting for the head of the department of mysteries.

The door opened for him before he knocked, which told him he was expected. When he walked inside, Hermione Granger stood beside her desk, two books in her hands.

“Professor,” Draco said. “You heard the recording.”

“Yes,” she replied, fingers quick on the pages of one of the books she held. “I want nothing more than to go see him myself, but I have to meet the minister right now. I did find these, I hope they help,” she handed Draco the books, one of them open to a specific page. Her level, browned eyed gaze was harsh on him. “The only reason I’m not storming your lab is that I know you’re capable. Take care of him.”

“I will.”

She nodded. “Do whatever it takes to bring him back.” He would.

Back in his lab, Draco sat on top of his desk and paged through the books Hermione had given him. The first one, the one she had handed him open, was on mind magic.

The dissolution of memories following an attack with dark magic, the title read at the top of the page.

A clear marker of mind magic is its lightness. Schuester and Neels classify the magical particles that travel through neurons as a follow-up to their natural action potential into two large groups: permalight and everblue. The permalight particles possess an immutable quality that ensures their stability, whereas everblue particles, in charge of the pathways pertaining to memory, when disturbed by specific dark curses (especially those dealing with the proceedings of the magical center in the medulla oblongata) become overactive, releasing an increased amount of energy that forces the magical core into a state of overcompensation. Cases with magical cores that reach up to 500 joules have been documented, and the main consequence is a loss of the overactive everblue particles and the resultant dissolution of memories.

“Found it,” Draco said, marking the page down and putting the book aside before reaching for the second one. “Nott, give me a rundown of the state of his everblue particles.”

“Got it,” Nott replied. After a couple seconds, he added, surprised, “the everblue particles are… going haywire, just frantic, it’s hard to say. They’re definitely more active than they should be.”

“Attempt to stabilize, give me a second,” Draco opened the second book. It was a Mind Potions manual. He paged through it, looking, looking, until he found what he was looking for. “McKinney, get me a silver cauldron.”

“There’s an antidote?” Zeller asked.

Draco nodded. “It will take a few hours to brew, but if I’m right, he should be out of here by tomorrow morning.”

“Baseline?” McKinney asked.

“Memory potion. Get me one as well, I’ll modify as needed.”

In a second, they were all working again. Draco went to the supply closet and picked out the ingredients carefully, one finger over the page that held the instructions. If he did it right, Harry would be back the next day. That was all that mattered. That was all he cared about.

“You need help?” McKinney asked him when he took the cauldron from her. He didn’t, not really, but one look at Harry lying on the exam table and at the clock on the wall had him nodding.

He would bring him back, and he would do it as soon as possible.

“Yes. Chop the staghorn.” He got the fire going, crushed the neem leaves, squeezed the valerian root. Together, he and McKinney completed the ingredient list, and Draco added them to the cauldron one by one, paying attention to the scent of the fumes, the color of the smoke. Once he had a royal blue potion, he turned the fire down.

“It needs to simmer for two hours. After that, I’ll need your help to wake him up and make him drink it.”

Mckinney cringed. Draco nodded, sympathetic. He wasn’t keen on forcing Harry, either.

“Will he have his memories back, boss?”

“The important ones, right away. He should remember the rest in the next few days.”

“Everything he remembered before?”

Draco nodded. “If I did it right, yes.” He was looking at the clock, at the slow tick of the thin hand marking the seconds. “You should all go grab lunch, I will need you sharp. I can guard the subject.”

They all recognized it as the order it was and, after taking off their aprons and offering to bring him coffee once they returned, they left him alone. The room was eerily silent in their wake. Draco brought a stool next to the exam table and sat there, right beside Harry. His hand, wide and open, lay next to his body. Draco swallowed, brought his hand up and ran the tips of his fingers down Harry’s palm.

Would he remember, Draco wondered.

He supposed it didn’t really matter.

-

When he’d mentioned the graduation party, over a year after it happened, Harry had simply stared at him blankly.

“You were there?” And then, sheepish, “Oh, man, I was so drunk I don’t remember a single thing. I’m sorry, did I do something embarrassing? Do you have embarrassing stories about me?”

Draco laughed it off, relayed the story of a weepy Ron in the bathroom of the bar, and Harry laughed along.

They’d become friends by then, were already past the tentative first drinks, well into the stage of inside jokes, of shared meals. And now Draco knew that Harry didn’t remember.

For a while, he willed himself to forget. Once he realized it was impossible, he resigned himself to living with his one-sided crush. Harry’s friendship was already so much more than he could’ve ever hoped for, his hyper-distilled attention heady enough as it was. It was enough.

-

“Ready?” Draco asked, holding the vial between his fingers. Zeller, Nott and McKinney stood at Harry’s sides. He waited for their nod before giving the order, “Now.”

“Rennervate.”

Once again, Harry woke up fighting, struggling with his binds before even becoming fully conscious. This time, though, Draco was right there, a hand to Harry’s sweaty nape, the short hair at the back of his head.

“Hey, it’s okay. Harry, wake up.”

Harry did, his eyes overtaken by his pupils for a couple seconds before adjusting to the bright lights of the lab. He looked at Draco, right at him as he had before, just as confused. “What’s happening?”

“You lost your memories,” Draco whispered, disarmed by the absolute trust in Harry’s eyes. “We can help you, but you have to drink this. Will you?”

He showed him the vial. Harry eyed it, swallowed. “Yeah, okay.”

Draco breathed out, relieved. “Here, I’ll help you.” He tipped Harry’s head back, brought the vial close to his lips. “It tastes good, I promise. I made it specially for you.”

Harry nodded, didn’t look away from him for a second as he swallowed, and soon enough, the vial was empty.

The potion acted immediately. The monitors beeped as Harry’s pulse skyrocketed, his breath quickening, but his core began to regain stability, the number climbing down from 400. His hand shot forward, clung to Draco’s arm, and Draco let him, watched him ride the waves of memories.

At last, Harry’s eyes fell closed, a faint sheen of sweat covering his forehead. The monitors showed his core at 80 joules.

“What’s your name?” Draco asked softly, gently.

“Harry James Potter,” Harry whispered, eyes still closed. He brought a hand up, covered his eyelids.

“Do you know what they hit you with?”

“Desvelo”

Unveiling.

Draco nodded at Zeller. She nodded back, took off her apron and walked out of the lab, to investigate previous uses of the curse on their records. Draco turned back to Harry.

“Do you know who I am?”

Harry stayed still for a moment, then nodded, a slight jerk of his chin. He didn’t say anything.

“How are you feeling, Harry?”

“My head really hurts.”

Draco moved his sweaty hair away from his forehead, still gentle, still speaking low. “Do you want a painkiller?”

Harry nodded.

“Nott, bring me ibuprofen, 650 milligrams,” he didn’t turn to see if Nott had listened, instead ran his fingers through Harry’s hair once again. “Anything else?”

He saw Harry’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Yes. Back when— On the day of my graduation I—“

“Oh god, no,” Draco said quickly, hands stilling in Harry’s hair. “You don’t have to say anything. Please, just… you need to rest.”

“I do. But… we’ll talk about it later?”

Draco took a deep breath. “Yes. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Good.”

This is my gift to the amazing, lovely @onbeinganangel for the Wheel of Drarry Mini Exchange. Mari, you are the absolute loveliest and just, omg, give all of us on the server so much every single day, with your time and encouragement. It was a joy to get to write for you. I really hope you like it!! Infinite thanks to @moonstruckwytch for betaing this for me ❤️

#drarry #drarry fic #draco malfoy #harry potter #wheel of drarry mini exchange #mine #mywriting

[chicken-fifi]

Song Joongki A-Z - SFW

Requested by @steph0707: Can you write a Boyfriend A-Z with Song Joong Ki?

A - Attractive: What does they find attractive about each other?

He finds your commitment to family and friends the most attractive. You care so selflessly for others that he wants to make sure you know someone cares for you in the same way. One your end I think it would a similar thing. He too cares deeply for his family and you admire that and find it immensely attractive.

B - Baby: Do they want a family?

Big time. He began dating you with the intention to marry you one day and start a family with you. However, he’s not going to rush anything. Whenever you’re both ready you’ll know.

C - Comfort: How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

You would be the center of his attention. He’d run through breathing exercises with you or just hold you until you calmed down. He would try his hardest to get your mind off of whatever it is that’s upsetting you to the best of his ability. Most of all, he really just makes sure that you know that he’s there and you’ll be okay.

D - Dates: What are dates with him like?

Dates with Joongki would be very easy going. Nothing fancy or over the top. Very down to earth and normal things. Dinner and a movie, a homecooked meal you prepared together, maybe some couples art class. Just your typical normal and relaxing dates.

E - Equal: Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He’s neither too dominant or too passive. I feel like he would push for you guys to be equals in your relationship. He does have his moments where he can be on the more dominant end of the spectrum, but that only when he feels like there’s something wrong (not with you but because of someone else).

F - Feelings: When did they know they were in love?

He would know he’s in love due how comfortable and happy he felt around you. Just the thought of you would send him into fits of giggle and cause the brightest smile to grace his lips. The first time he noticed would be during a particularly rough shoot. As soon as he saw you standing on the sidelines waiting as the shoot ended, his who demeanor would change. It would hit him instantly that he was falling in love.

G - Gratitude: How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

SO GRATEFUL. Everything you do for him never ceases to slide past him. For everything you do, he does twice as much for you. He’s lucky to have you by his side and he doesn’t want to lose you so he makes you sure that you know how much he appreciates what you do and that you aren’t the only one putting in the work.

H - Honesty: Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Not typically. Occasionally there might be a small thing but nothing to really fret over. He’s very open with you because he trusts you with his entire being. If he felt like he couldn’t tell you anything or had to keep secrets, he wouldn’t be in this relationship. Now when it pertains to something he wants to surprise you with, keeping the secret gets hard because he just wants to tell you everything.

I - Inspiration: Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

He so much happier and it’s so incredibly evident. Not only that, but it’s so natural. Everything when it comes to you is natural. He’s taken on different roles, started new habits, and has become very fond of the nightly dinner chats where you both say the worst part of your days and then proceed to lift each other up.

J - Jealousy: Do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?

Imma just link this here for you guys to read and say a few words about it. He doesn’t usually get jealous because he trusts you (he just doesn’t trust the other people).  He’ll get a bit touchier and kinda sulks about it before taking action. The biggest thing that gets him going is you fawning over the roles he plays. Let’s be real Vincenzo Cassano is the man of everyone’s dreams who no one can have (Joongki was right when he said the write made an unrealistic character).

K - Kiss: Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

100% good kisser. His kisses will range from cute to wild, decent to flat out outrageous. There are endless possibilities. He could give you a peck to start off with and then go back and give a kiss that will you breathless and wanting more. The first was just like that. Very innocent upon first glace but then he went back in for another one and you were left frazzled. 

L - Love Confession: How would they confess to their s/o?

He would probably just pour his heart out for you during one of your later dates. Like after a while of dating and knowing that he was in love he wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret anymore and just say it out of the blue. 

M - Marriage: Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Yes, but he wants to make sure it’s right. Like, he doesn’t want it to just feel right, he wants it to be right. No second guesses or regrets. He is divorced so it’ll take a while before he proposes to ensure that this is something the two of you want. When he does, it’s once again, very simple and probably just the two of you. A happy and prosperous marriage. You guys are equals and tend to do and handle things as a team. I don’t think much would change from your dating days really, it just seals the deal.

N - Nicknames: What do they call their s/o?

Him - a nickname for you, Love, Darling, your name, nothing out of the ordinary

You - Pretty Boy, sometimes you’ll call him by his various different roles, My Love, Joongki

O - On Cloud Nine: What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It’s a lot natural and unconscious things really. He’s happier and always smiles at the sound of your name or when you walk into a room. It’s SO painfully obvious. He’s like a schoolboy in love for the first time. He never does anything in public though, all his love for you is kept behind closed doors. I get the sense that he trusts his actions to speak for him, mainly because he doesn’t want to say ‘I love you’ so much that it loses its meaning and impact.

P - PDA: Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Very very very private. If it’s not someone around him constantly, to the rest of the world he just looks happier, and it could be for a multitude of reasons. He speaks about you to those he feels comfortable around (mainly close friends that he trusts). As mentioned above, everything pretty much stays between you and behind closed doors.

Q - Quirks: Something you do that he loves

When your lips go into a pout when you’re slightly upset or deep in thought. Usually, he goes in for a kiss when this happens.

R - Romance: How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s not overly romantic but he does have his moments. I do feel like he would kinda be on the cliché side but have a little twist. He does whatever he can to make you happy. Usually, he does things unintentionally. Like the time he was determined to make you both a rather romantic dinner for your anniversary and he nearly burned the whole house down. Cliché with a little twist.

S - Support: Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He believes in just as much as you believe in him. He’s your number one fan and is always there to support you. If you’re ever having any doubts about your career or what you truly want to do, he’ll have no problem bringing up that if what you want to do doesn’t guarantee any form of financial stability, he has no problem supporting you, until you get on your feet. As long as your happy, it’s worth it. 

T - Thrill: Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He’s probably on the more traditional side of things and having a routine probably makes things easier considering his job, but he’s definitely open to trying out new things to spice up your relationship.

U - Understanding: How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He knows you pretty well all things considered. While he can’t always be empathetic, he is very sympathetic when he can be. He knows that life happens and tries to make sure you know that if things arise it’s okay to lose it and crack.

V - Value: How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You’re his endgame. This relationship is everything he’s always wanted and wants to continue to have. Your relationship definitely comes first in majority of cases, but there are a few exceptions especially early on.

W - Whole: How do they feel about you being in their life?

He’s happy to wake up in the morning to get to hear your voice. Overall, he’s just much happier and brighter than he was before. And he certainly feels much more complete and full.

X - Xylophone: What is your song?

All Night Parking by Adele (again this is the hardest part of this A-Z)

Y - Yearning: How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He dreams about you...alllll niiiight loooooong (sorry). Seriously though, phone calls and video calls are a must. If it’s not possible, texts will do. 

Z - Zeal: Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

The lengths that you’re willing to go to are the same one’s he’ll go to. He’s not putting in more work than you’re willing to put in. Equal effort situation. Now, if you’re doubts you have to bring them up so they can be addressed. 

#kactors headcanons #soloists and actors master list #soloists and actors headcanons #song joongki #song joongki masterlist #song joongki headcanons

[waywardstation]

I'd like to say that you don't need magical or extreme explanations for why Ingo has a receding hairline early in life. Some men just kinda do! That's the luck of the genetic draw, sometimes your hair goes early.

I'm largely... ambivalent to Ingo having a receding hairline LOL. I think it looks stupid in the concept art, but other artists have made it look totally fine, so the issue was more the fact that it looks like his hair is a piece of fabric perfectly stretched over his head than the hairline itself.

Mainly I find the concept that Beni gets to keep a FULL HEAD OF VOLUMINOUS HAIR well into his old age while Ingo loses his in his late 20s/early 30s very very funny.

--cw

I agree with you CW! I might be responding to asks that are trying to explain the hairline somehow, even if I don’t personally agree with them haha. Mostly just humoring the ideas because I like to try and answer everyone’s asks.

But I accept that it’s just there and a part of him as the concept art. I quite like it actually even if everyone is saying the concept art itself hasn’t technically been confirmed canon yet.

Pretty much verbatim to you, I really like several artists interpretations of the hairstyle compared to how the concept art did it. I think I compared the concept art to a sheet of paper pulled over his head in a previous ask haha. But in terms of the design choice itself I really love it. It adds a lot to Ingo.

AND YEAH how old is Beni?? That dude has ALL his hair still. He got all the genetics Ingo didn’t haha

Thanks for the ask and your thoughts CW! I always find myself largely agreeing with anything you send.

(This might be my last answered ask pertaining to the concept art. I have to dip for a bit for university and I feel like if I come back days later to answer more, it will be quite a worn out subject by then! I’ve already stopped tagging these so they don’t show up in the tags haha)

#i will add my own tags though #on this blog we love Ingo and accept him #no matter what #and I love the design choice GF went with

[onyxheartbeat]

Dear HIM/Ville Valo fans,

this is a long post but I must discuss this.

________

I came across this interview of Kat Von D from a few days ago. Before I get into my thoughts, below is a passage from her old book “Go Big or Go Home” which you may or may not have read. She wrote about Ville:

________

“I only knew his music, and I loved it on first listen. It was dark and it was beautiful. It was metal and it was poetry. It was love loaded into a gun, and I wondered about the man behind the songs.  Two years later, our paths crossed, and like the majority of the connections I’ve made in life, tattooing brought us together. Through our first tattoo sessions, we began to get to know each other. For the next few years, I just thought of him as my friend from overseas, and that was all. Then, after knowing him for six years, something changed. It could have been the wine, the music, or the moon. Most likely it was just perfect timing. Just one kiss, and he changed my world. We were both sad back then, and lost. I was depressed, having finally ended a marriage that had been doomed from the beginning. I was also dealing with the pressures of filming a television show, which was totally new to me - and drinking my way blindly through it all. His story mirrored mine, and he had been feeling just as low. We had been waiting for something to happen, for someone or something to come along and save us from ourselves. And when it suddenly seemed that that someone was each other, it took us both by surprise. We shared darkness, and doing that bought light back into our somber worlds: for once, we didn’t feel alone.He’s the reason why I wanted to write music to begin with - and learn to sing. I remember the exact moment I made up my mind about making music. It was something I felt I needed to do, not for any reason other than a way to respond to him. It didn’t matter if the songs I’d write never saw the light of day, as long as he was able to listen to my music, my message to him. He had told me to look for a package at my door step, prefacing the delivery of the contents, his new album, saying, “These are all of the things that are easier sung than said.”I knew what he meant, but never imagined that each song would be filled with direct messages to me. I put the album on, and the music rushed out of the speakers and filled my house. His voice rang all around, making it’s way to the core of my heart with every word he sang. As cryptic as those lyrics may have been for anyone else, I knew exactly what each word meant and recognized every event and place he referred to. The songs were so beautiful, I just wished so badly that he could have said everything out loud just once to me. How should I respond to something like this? Where do I even start?The first time I saw him after I got sober, he was in town working on music. We sat in my office at the shop until the late hours of the night, talking and catching up about everything - music, home, art and work. Did we talk about love? No. We constantly danced around our past instead. What happened to us? I couldn’t find the courage to ask because I was scared of the answer I already knew. We decided to draw, with pencils and paper in front of us, we sat at opposite ends of the table. He pulled my three-minute timer from one of the nearby shelves, and placed it at the center of the table. He suggested we draw each other, and I was game. With a flip of the hourglass, the grains of sand moved from one vessel to the other, and we began.Sketching these timed portraits forced us to stare at each other, making it practically impossible to focus on the drawing itself. I had almost forgotten how beautiful his face was. He has a combination of eyes, lips, and a darkness to his looks that makes him look almost otherworldly. With him, I felt like I was at the center of an orderly, tranquil, magnificent universe. For those short three minutes, there were no questions about life or purpose. It was as if we never needed any more from each other than this.Like all people, I’ve suffered from love sickness and tasted the pain of love. The theatrical director of my mind, the one who staged all these versions of him and my life with him, seemed to be unaffected by reason. I was finding myself constantly day dreaming of the past.His eyes, his hands, his crooked smile - I’d ruminate over his features. Things he said. Things he did. Things he wrote. Things he drew. Things he sang. Over and over again, I’d sift through these images and memories as if they somehow contained the answer to my prayers. But I was living with a long-age memory of him; living so far away from the present moment.If we had spoken about what we were or what we thought we were, back when we got sober, I wouldn’t have been so confused, wandering what if, and writing the rest of our story in my mind. What did I expect? For him to magically not hear about me being in a relationship? And to not be bothered by it? If only he would have asked….. I would have….. If we could have only talked….. then things would be….. if we allowed ourselves to transform our fears of being open, vulnerable, then, I’d convince myself, we would be together. I realized that none of that mattered now. If I wanted to be free of this unrequited longing, I would have to make peace with the past and finally let it go. There was no way around it. But did I want to be free of it? - and him?I listened to one of his songs the other day. Out of all the songs he wrote on that album, this one was the most direct. He sings my name in the chorus. By the time the song is over, I’ve felt a range of emotions - I’m sad but happy, frustrated but calm. He sings about how I alone bring him to a place of stillness and peace within when we are together. What a victorious feeling - to enter into a place with him where no one else has been. To be able to bring goodness to and draw it out of someone. Those sweet thoughts were interrupted by  an e-mail from him. Impeccable timing as always. It’s just a short note, letting me now he’s somewhere out there, thinking of me. He ends the message by calling me “Star Face” - his pet name for me from long ago that no one else uses. At that moment, I loathe him for it. I loathe him because I love him. Sometimes it feels like it would be so much easier to walk away from this if he’d just tell me that he hates me, that he wants nothing to do with me. But instead he calls me “Star Face.” There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not letting go, either.‘Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.’The silver plane hurtled over Newfoundland, over the Labrador sea. Someone told me I might see the northern lights as I fly east and north, but I wouldn’t have noticed as I was deep in writing the letter that I had already mentally composed long before I decided to make this trip to see him over New Year’s Day. I didn’t have to edit myself this time, I knew exactly what the letter would say.I reread the note to myself before sealing the envelope. Then I drew out the first letter of his name in pencil on the front. What a beautiful letter it was, probably my favorite out of the entire alphabet. A letter I was so used to writing myself. With ease the swirls and curves of each arch seemed to flow from my heart, my mind’s eye, drawn in and through my arms to my hands, releasing themselves onto the pale ivory paper envelope. My plane landed soon after.I had missed this country, I had missed him, too. I wondered how time had treated him ,for it had been a few years since I had last seen him. I wondered if I still had the ability to quiet his heart when he was feeling manic. He always said I had a way of doing that when I was near. And I wondered if he even needed me in that way anymore.When we met up, he looked just as beautiful as the day we saw each other for the first time, almost ten years before. And as if no time had passed, we started right where we left off - hours flew by in the comfort of each other’s presence. Talking. Catching up.He asked if I was getting sleepy, and my attempt at concealing the tiredness was transparent. I looked at the clock; maybe it was the jet lag or the clock hands pointing to midnight, but I knew it was time to say good-bye. Reluctantly, we both stood up and tried our best to part ways. As good as it felt to be near him again, I gave him the letter I had written letting him know that I was letting the nation of us go. He took the sealed envelope, and then I watched him walk away for what I assumed would be the last time.My heart didn’t belong locked up in a tower across the ocean from my home. It belonged in my chest, beating, living, feeling, sometimes hurting, but always loving. I deserved to be free, and understanding and needing that more than a dream, I was finally able to let him go.”

_________

Now, let me start by saying, I’ve never understood this and I still don’t. I’ve had that passage saved in my drafts for years because I keep almost anything pertaining to Ville. 

I’ve been a HIM fan since I was about 15 years old, and have followed Ville’s life and work closely. The friendship between them was always apparent to HIM fans in those days, because we saw her in photos with the band often. I used to watch Miami Ink and LA Ink as regularly as pretty much anyone in those days, and I remember when this particular passage of her book was brought to light, the HIM fan base read it and we all had our thoughts. We were all aware of Screamworks being written about Kat (it’s obvious in the lyrics of the album) even though Ville never specifically said Kat’s name when asked about it in interviews.

I remember being baffled back when we as HIM fans discovered this passage from the book. I couldn’t imagine not making that relationship work if it was true love. I’m a bit biased because I adore Ville and he’s like a dream to me, but I just couldn’t understand it. It seemed like she took the relationship for granted or she didn’t love him enough to make it work; but I digress. I get it; love and relationships are complex.

Still, flash forward to this recent interview (the screenshot), she says it was unrequited love, and I’m still not understanding it. Why release all the songs now? Why didn’t she make it work if it was true love? Who is she trying to say was the one not reciprocating (as the word “unrequited” suggests) in the relationship? I don’t understand any of it. More than anything, I’ve had so many questions that I wish I could ask Ville about it all because he only spoke briefly about it all, and it was always rather cryptic. 

I’m only writing this as a HIM fan, and because I love Ville and his lyrics on Screamworks so, so much (it’s an extremely underrated album in the HIM discography, in my opinion) so I’m letting any fellow HIM lovers know she wrote an album in response to it, in case you’re interested. I haven’t followed Kat or her work in many years, so I don’t know what to make of all this, but it’s always been extremely apparent to me when listening to Screamworks that a lot of heart went into it and even pain, not that his lyrics on other albums aren’t like that too, but I felt it more on Screamworks. I feel that Ville was the one who was truly heartbroken.

You all probably know from following my blog that I’m obsessed with love and unrequited love. Any romantic stories, bittersweet letters, heartbreak, longing etc. is just my favorite thing in the world so please excuse the long post, haha.

#ville valo #him #h.i.m. #h.i.m #him band #screamworks #his infernal majesty