jadeloverxd

[jadeloverxd]

and they were roommates | sylus

sum: sylus responds to an online ad for a roommate. you suddenly have this tall, well-spoken, handsome man living in the attic, playing classical music, tinkering with things he built, and humming off-key while he makes you pancakes in the morning before disappearing for weeks at a time. cw: modern au, roommate au, slice of life, mild language, mutual pining, romantic tension, innuendoes, smidge of angst, 1.3k of self-indulgence now playing: honey - raveena part 1 | part 2 | part 4 | part 5

The weather app forecasted rain all week.

You never truly relied on the damn thing, seeing as how there was always a high chance its predictions wouldn’t come to fruition. It’d been hot as Hell’s gates the past few days, pasting your clothes to you like snakeskin.

Well, now, as the evening sky pelts down in grey torrents beyond the awning of your porch, you feel silly for doubting it this time around. 

You love the rain—the scent of wet earth it ushers in with it, the ambient sound it carries. How, as cliché as it might sound, it washes away everything, starting the world anew. A second chance. A cover.  

What's most ironic is the rain didn’t start until your roomie disappeared once more, swept away for a “business trip,” leaving you to fend for yourself where you’d grown accustomed to having him around again. 

A quiet little tick to your lips, you gaze skyward, beholding the darkened clouds from your seat. A crisp breeze kisses your cheeks, water drip-dropping down the gutter, the symphony of the rainfall chasing away the sounds typical of your neighborhood.

Clad in your work attire, you rise from your chair and push into your home. You opt for a warm shower to chase away the cold. Ease into something comfortable, lounging on the sofa with a drama you’ve practically memorized queued up on the TV screen. 

It isn’t long before the stress of your day trickles in, and your vision fades, scorched around the edges like a vignette. You settle onto your side, feet kicked up on the couch’s armrest, drawing your blanket further up your body. 

Guided by the rain, the muted dance of light from the screen, and the exhaustion of socializing, you lapse into a heavy spell of sleep. 

—

You’re lucid. Carefully treading the line of consciousness and dreams, when the jiggling of the front door’s locks pulls you to the surface. 

You sit up with a yawn, joints crackling as you stretch, muscles stiff from your nap. The door creaks open, and warmth leaks through you at the familiar mop of white in the threshold.

He’s massive in the open door, stepping inside, quiet, careful, as if he’s up to no good. As if the darkness carried him in, snowy strands beaded with rain and a thin film of it lining the neck of his coat. You watch him slip off his boots and sling his jacket on the rack before you make your presence known with another yawn.

Brilliant, red eyes snap to you. Their intensity tempers, as does the rest of his face, and the pressure in your living room shifts when he steps towards the couch.

“Still awake?” he prompts, the low roll of his voice contending with that of the thunder brushing the horizon. 

You nod, trying to appear unfazed by his presence. Like you aren’t secretly vibrating, grateful to have him back.

He tugs off his gloves with practiced ease, dropping them onto the table behind the sofa. His eyes crease with a quiet mirth behind the backrest, and he studies you as he drops a hand to your shoulder. Squeezes, sending pins and needles through your chest.

Crossing the living room to the hallway, he disappears up the stretch of stairs leading to the upper floor. You’re straining your ears for every lick of sound, every creak in the floorboards, the slamming of a drawer, before it falls quiet. 

You take up the remote from the coffee table, scrolling through things to occupy the time. Your roommate reemerges after a minute or two, clad in a loose-fitting tee with a towel slung over his shoulders. 

He falls onto the cushion beside you, exhaling, towelling off his hair. He’s closer than what’s typical, thigh brushing yours, and your throat thickens. 

An amalgamation of scents coils around you like a breath out—petrichor, the faint trails of his cologne, undernotes of iron and smoke. You’ve stopped breathing as the cords in his bicep flex in the outskirts of your vision when he ruffles his hair, gaze trained on the television screen, unfocused,

Wanting to dispel the weighted atmosphere, you clear the phlegm from your throat. Sit up a little rigid, toying with the drawstrings of your hoodie.

“So…rough day?”

His jaw tenses in your periphery. He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he lets the weight bear down. And for a moment, you think you’ve nicked skin. Agitated a nerve—he’s always hush-hush about what he does. The life of a real estate agent must be top secret. 

“It was…tedious,” he finally answers after murdering you with the suspense. 

The set of your shoulders uncoils. You exhale, feeling a little less like you pissed him off.

“That bad, huh?”

Fuck him for shifting like that. For getting a little more comfortable, draping an arm across the backrest, legs splaying open. The hairs littering the surface of your skin stand rigid, and again, you’ve forgotten what it means to breathe when he turns towards you, ingesting you with those cruelly beautiful eyes.

“I’ll spare you the details. I don’t lead an exciting life. Not like you do.”

You glower when he pokes your forehead. 

After chewing on your lip, you ask, “Well, you want me to distract you?”

A brow lifts with intrigue. Lips cant in one corner to match it. You roll your eyes, scoffing. You’d think by now you’d be better at catching your words before they leave your mouth.

“Is that an offer, sweetie?” 

“That’s not what I meant, you perv.”

The fight dies down inside you, and it’s like being struck by lightning when his gaze drops to your mouth. It lingers, scrutinizes, his pupils dilating before he takes you in once more. 

You’re mindlessly leaning closer as if gravity’s drawing you to him. Don’t realize you’re watching his lips, taking in their suppleness, wondering if they’re as soft as the flower petals they resemble, until his knuckle slips beneath your chin, tilting your head back.

His voice is scratchy, tempered low, and you feel it pulling in your stomach when he rasps, “You’re becoming more difficult to resist. Do you know that?”

You both stiffen as the air sparkles with something electric. 

He sifts through the drunken, confused haze of your stare, chewing on his lip as if he let something slip that he shouldn’t have. 

You work your mouth around a shaky, “What?” 

And there’s war in his eyes. A battle of self-control when his fingertips trace the slope of your jaw, drag along the swell of your cheek, brushing some hair from your face. He’s gentle as if he isn’t meant to touch. Careful like you’re glass and he’s a brute that could easily crush you in his fist.

With a resigned sigh, he draws back, lifting himself from the couch and from the dreamy film that had covered you, leaving you to blink at the space where he once resided, as your pulse thrums a battle cadence in your throat.

“Tea?” your roommate calls from the kitchen, the sound of cupboards shutting and porcelain dragging accompanying him.

You try not to let your disappointment show as you sit back. Try not to let your voice flicker, your hands fisted in your blanket, mouth open, mind utterly confused.

“Sure.”

You wonder what you might’ve done this time to scare him off. If it isn’t his phone ringing or another obligation keeping you apart, surely, it must be you. 

tags: @eialovescats, @animecrazy76, @souppooppie, @stxrrielle, @pemhpredo, @bluesidez, @thirstblogforaparchedgirl, @freeprincesslove, @raginginferno267, @dyeinsomniadontwake

[jadeloverxd]

and they were roommates | sylus

sum: sylus responds to an online ad for a roommate. you suddenly have this tall, well-spoken, handsome man living in the attic, playing classical music, tinkering with things he built, and humming off-key while he makes you pancakes in the morning before disappearing for weeks at a time. cw: modern au, roommate au, slice of life, mild language, mutual pining, reader is shorter than sylus, flirting, gendered terms (good girl), mild jealousy, 2.2k of self-indulgent dribble now playing: sweet time - raveena part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Coffee. 

Cuban, aromatic, sweet, bold. Nostalgic.

It’s the first thing to bring you to consciousness, followed by birds chirping outside, and the unbroken purr of a lawn mower.

You’re in your bed, swiping along the sheets in wide arcs as if chasing the remnants of sleep. Dreams of cerulean beach waves, sand caught in the interstices of your toes, the sun warming your cheeks.

Morning announces itself in the form of a golden strip cast over your eyes. 

You peek them open, throat dry, mouth sticky. A little sad to see you’re not at the beach, not tucked safe in your childhood home.

You push up with an unflattering yawn and crackling limbs. A glance at your phone reveals it’s a little past eight. It’s your day off. Still got some time to get ahead of the morning rush for grocery shopping.

The scent of coffee curls around you like a wispy shawl, and you’re warm inside. Smiling, lugging yourself off the bed to the window where you know he’ll be.

A glance outside and across the street reveals that familiar thatch of white, contrasting with the vibrant grass as Sylus pushes the lawn mower back and forth.

You’d almost forgotten he was back, kind of used to getting along without him. And of course, he’s up bright and early, helping your elderly neighbor tend to his yard. Made time to make you coffee on that expensive espresso machine he refuses to let you touch.

Funny. 

For someone who claims to abhor the sun, he’s best friends with it—the way it threads through his hair like he’s Atlas himself, bearing the sky on burly shoulders. How it highlights the rippling muscles in his back beneath a sweat-slicked tank, the tendons flexing in his legs as he works. 

You cross your arms and lean near the window, watching him push to a standstill when your neighbor approaches with water and a towel. Like clockwork, the old man draws him into conversation, nonsensical things in no particular order. And Sylus is always patient, letting your neighbor ramble like he’s got all the time in the world.

As if remembering yourself, you blink away your reverie. Shake it off. You sound like a lovesick fool. A secret admirer. Aren’t you? You’ve got better things to do than pine after your roomie.

So you strip down and crowd into the shower, the crisp spray a welcome reprieve for your stiff muscles. You slip into something that fits the heat—the kind that refracts light waves off the pavement, scorching enough to fry eggs outside and bring the mosquitoes out.

You sweep your hair into something passable, trotting down the stairs to the kitchen. The coffee’s still hot, warm in the mug between your palms and down your gullet. 

Not only is he a tolerable housemate, but he listens. Made it a point to stock your pantry with coffee that chased away your homesickness—imported—probably sick of you bitching about how much you missed it. Tired of asking why you’ll never go back.

A plate covered in a cheesecloth awaits you on the stove with a sad excuse for a cat scrawled onto a sticky note on top. You snort. Fish out a piece of bacon, pop a few blueberries strewn across your pancakes into your mouth. 

From the kitchen window, Sylus and your neighbor have moved to the old man’s porch. They’re seated on his rocking chairs, mouths moving, expressions easygoing beneath the flag fluttering in the balmy breeze. It’s infectious, that rare quirk to Sylus’ lips. Everything about him seems infectious these days. 

Swiping your keys from the counter and toeing on your sneakers, you push through the front door, and the humidity slaps you with zero remorse. 

Both men across the street perk up when you hit the remote start, your neighbor waving at you with a wrinkly, knowing smile.

You return his greeting, prickly when scarlet eyes track your every step as you round the car to the pooped-up trunk. 

You’re shuffling things around to make room for groceries when you feel him behind you—a tingly pressure between your shoulder blades, his shadow pressing into you and blotting out the sun.

“Going somewhere?” he asks, amused.

You jolt, a hand over your heart. You knew your roommate was back there, yet that voice is something lethal. Always manages to make you forget the world is a thing, breathing and thriving around you.

You turn, propping against the trunk’s edge, trying to play it cool over crossed arms. “God, warn me next time, will you? For your info, I’m going grocery shopping so my roomie doesn’t think I’m irresponsible and broke.”

There goes that lethal combo—that smirk, that chuckle. It’s not fair that he makes something as simple as roosting his hand on the edge of the trunk look cool, so close, you make out the veins and sinew jumping in his arm. Smell the sweat salting his skin, the grass staining his shorts.

“Irresponsible, yes.” Sylus pokes your forehead, and you sputter at how rough he pushes. “Broke, never. Not with me around.”

You huff, looking off to the side, pretending to be annoyed. Pretending like it wouldn’t take much to grab the front of his shirt and tug him down and—

Enough of that.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m assuming you’re done being a good Samaritan since you have time to talk.”

He straightens, that humor never leaving, that gaze sliding over you, stopping center mass, before finding your eyes again. He tugs on the towel around his neck, and you’re swallowing when his Adam’s apple bobs, chasing the sweat pouring down his throat. 

“Mostly. Want company?”

You jut your chin out defiantly, haughty, like you’re not giddy at the prospect of him tagging along. “Thought you didn’t like crowds.”

Something shifts in those lava fields. A glimmer of something burrowing deep before he’s back to his usual, smug self. Angles himself closer, making your heart skip a beat.

He’s all teeth when he says, “They’re bearable when I’m with you. Give me ten, and I’ll come with.”

You’re nodding like a lovelorn idiot, mouth halfway open, still processing what he said as he wanders into the house.

It’s hard to keep your walls up when he says shit like that. Chips away at those aged bricks you put up around your heart after you assumed he was seeing someone—the feminine name he’d say in hushed urgency, stepping out of earshot to take her call.

Whatever. 

It’s just a trip to the store. And he’s always been a tease. 

You brush it off, slamming the trunk shut, and slipping into the driver's seat to wait for this enigma of a man to clean up. 

—

Mornings have never been your forte. 

But you take advantage of them when it means getting a leg up on the housewives and boisterous teens who like to crowd the supermarket later on.

It’s eventless inside, a few customers scuttling about, music echoing from the speakers. The overhead lights compete with that of the sun bleeding through the windows, and your cart squeals and sticks.

One hand is tight around the buggy’s handle, the other pressing your phone to your chest. You’re tense, tight-lipped, pulse jackhammering in your throat. 

The source of your anxiety walks a comfortable distance behind and to the side, perusing the aisles with as much interest as someone out of their element. He’s not as close as he was before when he’d manipulated you into bringing him with you, but you’re still all prickly like he wrote sin into your bare skin with his fingers.

You always get like this when he’s gone for a while and comes back. Like meeting up with a stranger, sifting through the filing cabinet of your mind on what to say and how not to sound stupid saying it. 

You’re nestled between towering aisles of cereal when you glance over your shoulder, mouth moving, but nothing coming out. Sylus watches you, brow lifted, expectant. And your tongue’s suddenly too heavy for your mouth as you laugh it off, facing forward again.

You’ve never been this shy before. Never been this hesitant to fill the space between you with shit-talking and an interrogation on where he ran off to this time. Real estate conferences typically don’t last for most of the month. But you know your prodding won’t get you anywhere because he’s so good at diverting your questions and changing the subject.

“So,” you finally begin, attempting to break up the dense air between you. “We need milk, eggs, and bread. Maybe that bourgeois yogurt you like. Butter, oatmeal, and—ah, fuck. Forgot the plums.”

You stiffen, prepared to turn around, abandoning the cart in the middle of the aisle, but Sylus cuts you off. You almost run into him, that solid wall of strength, the heat of his skin overwhelming, the crisp notes of his cologne like chloroform. 

You look up to that knowing cant on his lips, and with a hand in his pocket, he tells you, “I’ll take care of it. You handle the rest.”

Nodding, you watch him walk off before venturing further down the aisle by yourself, grateful for the save.

At the end of the aisle, of course the oatmeal you want is on the top fucking shelf. And you’re straining on tippy-toe, fingers just barely grazing it. You purse your lips, contemplating stepping on the shelves for an assist, but it seems some higher being pities you today.

“I got you,” chimes a friendly voice from behind. 

His hand reaches over you before you put a face to a voice, plucking the tub of oats down for you. Almost close enough to crowd you against the shelves. You turn, following the stretch of his arm as he steps back, a nervous chuckle in your throat when he deposits the container into your hands.

“Hey, thanks,” you say, smile courteous, the container pressed to your bosom. “I owe you one.”

It’s awkward. Blinking. Staring. Averting your eyes. 

Your savior makes no move to leave, instead making himself comfortable, all teeth and confidence as he leans against a shelf. 

“Hard to believe a pretty thing like you shops all by herself. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in town. You live around here?”

You have this nasty habit of letting your face convey your emotions in place of your words. It’s instinctual. But this guy was nice enough to help, so you tamp down your discomfort, chuckling anxiously. Maybe if you entertain him a little, he’ll take the hint and leave you alone. 

“Um, yeah. Just out running errands. Trying to get my life together. You know.” 

Mr. Smug Smiles still doesn't budge, doesn’t pick up on your unease, instead taking you in like a starving wolf ogling skewered meat. 

“Maybe I could help you out. Grab anything else you can’t reach.” He steps closer, voice descending. “And maybe you could give me your number.”

Before you can work your mouth into a retort, you feel it—quiet, intimidating pressure behind you. Swallowing you whole, though the ire pouring off his skin isn’t directed at you. 

You nearly leap some fifty feet out of your body when a sizable hand falls to your back. The touch is light, but it’s hard not to sense the possessive flex of his fingers as he scorches you down to the bone.

You peer up as Sylus steps in, glare unrelenting on the man before you, and he drops a bag of plums into the cart like they’ve personally offended him. Your breath corks in your throat as his jaw pulls, the tendons in his throat twitching. If looks could kill, you’re sure he would’ve murdered this guy a thousand times over. It’s kind of…hot. And it convinces you just for a second that maybe your roomie’s into you, too.

Sylus’ demeanor shifts from murderous to sweet, giving you whiplash when he looks down at you. Asks, “Do you have everything you need, sweetheart?”

The way the name rolls off his tongue drips hot into your belly, and you’re nodding like a mindless little thing, lost in the soft stir of his irises. He reaches around you to grip the cart’s handle, trapping you between cool metal and sweltering strength. He turns you away from the sputtering man who had no idea you kept such company, walking you down the aisle into another.

Moments pass, and Sylus doesn’t let go. Doesn’t release you from the cage of his body, doesn’t loosen the clench of his jaw until you’re in the frozen section.

You start when he angles low, his hair tickling your neck, your cheek, lips a tease by your ear. It’s pleasant, satisfying, the way his voice drags like chalk against a smooth sidewalk, igniting a flurry of goosebumps across your skin.

“The next time you need assistance, don’t ask a stranger. Wait for me. Understood?”

You have this nagging feeling there’s more to his words than what’s at surface level. And you have half a mind to tell him you didn’t ask for anything. Yet you stutter out a quiet, “Ye-yeah,” absently nudging closer to his mouth.

You feel it curve against your ear—his sly smile. Watch his fingers tighten around the buggy’s handle, forearms just barely brushing your sides.

“Good girl.”

And you don’t realize you’re still clutching the damn oatmeal for dear life until you drop it on your foot.

tags: @pemhpredo, @bluesidez, @thirstblogforaparchedgirl, @freeprincesslove, @raginginferno267, @dyeinsomniadontwake

[jadeloverxd]

and they were roommates | sylus

sum: sylus responds to an online ad for a roommate. you suddenly have this tall, well-spoken, handsome man living in the attic, playing classical music, tinkering with things he built, and humming off-key while he makes you pancakes in the morning before disappearing for weeks at a time. cw: modern au, roommate au, slice of life, mild language, mutual pining, reader implied to be shorter than sylus now playing: congratulations (piano version) - goated part 2 | part 3 | part 4

The downside of having a roommate? You can’t walk around your house pantless anymore. 

The upside? You know when he’s home.

Hell, the whole neighborhood knows. 

There’s no mistaking the distinct roar of that motorcycle engine. How it echoes through the cul-de-sac, causing dogs to bark and ornery Boomers to bitch about the racket.

You peek through the blinds of your bay window like a nosy housewife. Try not to get too ahead of yourself as he sweeps into the driveway, the late afternoon sun bouncing off the sleek trace of his bike and helmet, limning his silhouette in gold like a halo. 

Your heart rabbits in your chest, throat thickening. Dry. 

Relax. 

It’s only been three weeks since you last saw Sylus, your roommate. Not like he up and left without a trace. And it’s not like he hasn’t disappeared for longer bouts of time before.

So, you try to play it cool like you didn’t halfway miss him—his stupid dad jokes, his rich bastard laugh, his sassy takes on your taste in booze—as you pry the front door open.

Clad in your hoodie, sweats, and house shoes, you bound down the steps towards him, hands shoved in your middle pocket. And man, it’s like the world stops spinning, working in his favor. Like you forget what breathing is, as the ambient sounds of your neighborhood fade into obscurity.

Because he’s cool without trying to be, donned in his black riding leathers, like something out of a dark romance novel. The real kicker comes when he tugs off his helmet, shaking out that riotous mop of white hair, and his scarlet-spun eyes crease with an untold joke when they land on you.

You watch him kick out the stand and kill the engine. Pull a long leg from over the seat, tousling his hair with slender fingers and meeting you halfway up the driveway with an easy swagger, helmet tucked beneath his pit.

He’s close. So close, the heat of the sun absorbed by his jacket—or is that just him—permeates your clothes. He has to crane his neck to look down at you, the tall bastard. You want to wipe that smug look off his face, but you’re too busy trying to remember how the English language works. 

“Miss me?” he asks in that deep gravel. So deep, so unintentionally gritty, you feel it playing up your spine like a xylophone. 

He pats your head like you’re his little admirer. You jerk away, remembering yourself, scoffing. 

Crossing your arms and hip poking out, you say, “About as much as I miss a hernia.”

Your roomie shakes with laughter. A chuckle smooth as velour streaked by sunlight. It makes you all warm and prickly, and you’re smiling for real this time, caught in this comfortable pocket of space with a man as mysterious as the depths of the ocean. 

Conveniently, the wind kicks up when his laughter dies down. It stirs the leaves on the ground, the scent of petrichor and summer, and it snatches some hair from your messy do, pushing it into your face. 

You watch his expression morph from amusement to something unreadable with bated breath. Stiffen when he tugs one of his gloves off, fingers curled loose towards his palm, knuckle brushing just beneath your waterline to sweep some hair back.

You burn where he nudges you, and his fingers linger. Hover, not really touching, but the static between skin is enough to make your pulse rocket. 

He looks like he might say something. Like he’s grappling with words he’s been keeping to himself for a while. But your quiet little reprieve is short-lived when your neighbor greets you both from across the street.

You spring apart like you touched fire, smoothing down your hoodie with sweaty palms. Remember how to breathe, blinking away that sweet little haze. Sylus keeps his eyes on you for a few beats, taking in every little feature as if he’ll never see you again, before turning to acknowledge the old man with a two-fingered salute.

He’s a veteran, your neighbor, his telltale black cap with his ribbons settled on his head. A little rough around the edges. War-torn. Alone, but where most everyone on your street hates Sylus for the din of his bike, your neighbor loves him for stirring the shit pot. 

You wave as Sylus shoulders past you, starting towards your house. And you follow after your roomie once your neighbor hobbles back into his home, two of your steps to keep up with his one.

—

You pause at the foot of the stairs leading up to the attic. Gnaw on your lip, arms crossed, brows pensive, socked toes nudging the floor. 

The sun’s long since sought refuge behind the horizon, making way for stars littering the sky like glitter spilled over a violet tablecloth. It’s quiet, save for dogs barking somewhere far off, the errant sounds of your house settling on its foundation, an occasional car sweeping by, and Mephisto’s wings fluttering every now and again upstairs in Sylus’ room.

You didn’t want to badger him right away. Not as soon as he came back, figuring he needed some time to settle in. Unpack. Readjust to the humdrum of suburban life. 

You’re always like this when he returns—antsy, vibrating like a golden retriever, eager to yap his ear off. To see what he’s been up to, though he’s always cryptic about it.  

But he looked more exhausted than usual when he came home, eyes rimmed purple, shoulders lax. So you left him to his own devices while you scrolled through the catalogue of your mind for what to make for dinner.

Not much you can make with what little’s in the fridge—you haven’t had time to go grocery shopping with work kicking your ass. And it’s late, and you’re hungry, so you use your stomach as an excuse to bug your roomie. 

You finally work up the gumption to knock on the handrail—how you signal to him you’re around—and it’s quiet for all of five seconds before you hear footsteps, and he pokes his head from around the partition. 

He reveals himself fully at the crest of the stairs, dressed in something cozy. Something loose that doesn't detract from the power his body houses. 

Lips rucked up in a smirk, he leans against the rail, massive in the entryway, folding his arms. Cocks his head to the side, the shadows cast beneath the ceiling light glazing over chiseled features. 

“What’s up, sweetie?”

Your eye twitches. Before, the pet name used to make you cringe. But you’ve grown more accustomed to it with time, accepting it’s a part of him that’ll never go away. 

And maybe a side of him reserved just for you.

Propping your hip on the rail to mirror him, you try for cool. Casual, like your heart isn’t on a mission to leap out of your chest. 

“You hungry?”

He shrugs. “I could go for something. What’s on the menu?”

You absently scratch your cheek, looking off to the side. “It’s late. Thought about ordering out or something. I don’t know.”

He considers your offer before he nods his head. You relinquish a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Sure.”

Sylus begins descending the stairs like he intends to join you downstairs in the kitchen. He makes it halfway before something stops him. You glance at his pocket as it vibrates. Back at him.

His expression bleeds ruefulness as he pulls out his phone and brings it to his ear. You watch his brows knit together, and he turns away, starting back up to his room, hand cupped around the mic like he’s partaking in a world-ending secret. 

You catch a familiar name on his lips before he’s out of earshot. 

Shrugging, you venture to the kitchen alone to snatch your phone up from the dining table. Cue up the DoorDash app, swiping through options for food, but not really focusing on any one thing. 

Because you’re too busy wondering who’s got Sylus on the phone, all urgent and stone-faced like Bruce when Rachel calls him with bad news. 

[jadeloverxd]

Sylus featured on Apple mobile games 🐦‍⬛❤️‍🔥

[jadeloverxd]

We've got Miguel O'Hara, Kenji Sato and now Jinu. The pipeline's really strong.

[jadeloverxd]

omg are they gonna have a cat rerun banner or a cat mini game cafe event again 😼

[jadeloverxd]

it’s been months and this is all i got…. (who else am i drawing atp!!!)

[jadeloverxd]

Uh, 빛이나는 fame, 계속 외쳐, I'm your idol Thank you for the pain 'cause it got me going viral Uh, yeah, 낫지 않는 fever, makin' you a believer 나를 왜 넌 존재하는 아이돌

KPOP DEMON HUNTERS (2025) dr. Maggie Kang and Chris Appelhans

[jadeloverxd]

The internet loves this, and the internet is never wrong! - KPop Demon Hunters (2025)

+ bonus

[jadeloverxd]

nightly rendezvous in landscape

I wasn’t paying attention to him this time, it’s the stuff in the background I was interested in… mostly BUT JUST LOOPK AT HOW DETAILED HIS OFFICE IS

AND THE SNOW FLAKES???

[jadeloverxd]

You don't understand I need to violently throw this guy into multiple walls <3

[jadeloverxd]

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick Headcanons

now playing: Cashmere Tears by Kojey Radical

Such a quiet soul and he’s been that way his whole life. No, not an introvert (a high functioning omnivert if anything), when he doesn’t have anything to say he simply doesn’t say anything. He’s still polite though, greeting everyone in the room, making small talk with his mates. But if that’s it, thats it. He doesn’t try to fill silence. Deals with his trauma by constantly journaling, even in the midnight hours, it’s habitual for him. The type to quietly cave into themselves unfortunately, thinks a little too much. From a big family. And I mean big. Over 25 first cousins, 8 aunts and uncles all on his mom’s side. His dad’s side is small & from the UK. Mums family is across the diaspora, he’s very family oriented. Always hanging out with his cousins when he’s back in town, from young to the ones who are older than him. It’s a family hangout at his mums once a month. Mama & Papas boy (complementary, never derogatory). Willing to give, always. Especially for a good cause. But to the point it’s a bad habit. Loves to hang out with his best friends (two being his cousin, Soap, and dragging Simon out with Soaps help). Loves a good drink, could get his bartender license if he really wanted to. He’s a bar hopping fanatic, loves going to different places and singing his heart out. He knows at least 60-70% of the people at the party/bar.

The type to randomly invite you to hang out with his assortment of hobbies, “wanna go do pottery?” “Have a football game this weekend, you wanna come?” “My cousins girlfriend is dj’in at this spot, wanna go?” “Think ‘m gonna take a train to Paris, wanna come?” “Goin hikin, wanna come baby?” Sure hes out a bit but he does like staying home sometimes, cooking up rice & beans with plantains or making homemade pasta. Such a romantic babe. Romance movies and action movies from the 90s that include romance are his favorite. The type to fall in love at first sight, but he doesn’t rush anything- no— he’s taking his time to bask in it. Let you fall in love with him too, even if it takes 6 months, 2 years— he’ll wait. The type to play the waiting game (Price taught him well). Just a gentleman, he wants to be soft with you. Flowers even though he may have to take an antihistamine, well thought out dates frequently and/or randomly, well thought out gifts (it may be a necklace to your favorite snack). A chick magnet but the type to clear things up easily. ‘Baby’ ‘sweetie’ ‘lovely’ ‘beautiful’ always falls from his lips all the time. Casually dominate, opening every door, holding your hand and guiding you, asking for consent over small things— he does it all.

listening to: Little Simz, Skepta, A Tribe Called Quest, SWV Rema, Wizkid, Brent Faiyaz, Tems, Pharrell, Sade, Pink Floyd.

a/n: a request, but I just went all out. These are just my thoughts of him. I know this has been done before 🤷🏾‍♀️

[jadeloverxd]

might remake w different colours soon 🧡 caleb wallpaper

[jadeloverxd]

Sylus drabbles/headcanons that were honestly my shower thought !! TT

Sylus is the type of guy that would honestly spend his rainy afternoons with you on his lap, one hand with a controller playing Resident Evil while you’re on your steam deck playing something else. A hand on you’re thigh leaving small pats or squeezes just enjoying the rainy afternoons gaming in each others presence.

Sylus probably is willing to do anything literally ANYTHING as long as you’re having fun. Building legos? He’ll spend a whole day building them with you. Ceramics? He’d attend a whole workshop with you. Painting? He would make a makeshift art room in his place.

[jadeloverxd]

Little guppy 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

I just wanted to write something about Dad!Rafayel since i still can't get his Mistsea Lament card｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

SUMMARY: A little short one shot about you and Rafayel's four year old daughter, Seraphina, who recently just transformed into her lemurian side.

Seraphina was only four when it happened— when she finally got her Lemurian tail.

It had been just an ordinary, sunny afternoon. You, Rafayel, and your daughter were enjoying a peaceful day on your private beach outside your home. A mat was neatly spread across the sand, a beach umbrella casting shade over you as you lounged in quiet relaxation. The sound of waves crashing mingled with the occasional seagull call and the soft babbling of your daughter’s voice.

Rafayel sat beside you, carefully applying sunscreen to Seraphina’s tiny arms while she munched on a half melted ice pop and pointed out everything she could see a crab walking from the shore, a seagull, and a cloud that “looks like Daddy’s face”

"Daddy, I wanna play mermaids!" she suddenly exclaimed, twisting toward him with her sunglasses slightly crooked and a wide, toothy grin — one that looked far too familiar for his heart to handle, that smile that was unmistakably yours.

Rafayel chuckled, his chest filled with warmth at her enthusiasm. "Of course, my little guppy," he replied, scooping her up in his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Seraphina had always known she was part Lemurian, bedtime stories and random curious questions made sure of that, but you and Rafayel never knew if she’d inherit the ability to transform. After all, She was only half Lemurian.

Still, she believed.

As Rafayel walked towards the water with her, his legs shimmered and shimmered again, soon forming his tail. Seraphina squealed with joy and kicked her feet in the water, holding his hand tightly as he guided her gently through the shallow waves.

Minutes later, a voice rang out.

“Daddy, look! Pretty colors!”

She held up her little arm, where radiant scales had appeared, shimmering under the sunlight. Rafayel blinked, stunned. For a heartbeat, the world held its breath, then he smiled, eyes soft with disbelief and joy.

“Sweetheart,” he softly whispered, “you’re transforming…”

Back on the mat, you sat up, scanning the water. You couldn’t see them. But then, there they were, swimming back towards the shore.

Rafayel carried Seraphina on his back, her arms looped around his neck, a giggling lemurian child in the making. As soon as she saw you, her eyes lit up and her tiny arms reached forward.

“Mommy! Mommy!” she squealed, tail flicking in excitement, an actual shimmering tail now flopped from Rafayel’s arms, radient and stubby, not yet fully grown, but definitely there.

You stood, heart pounding. “Is that— Rafayel?!”

“She did it,” Rafayel said, in a voice that trembled with joy and disbelief. “She’s got her tail.” he said as he softly kissed Seraphina's forehead.

You reached out instinctively and scooped Seraphina into your arms, her little body cool from the water, her new tail dripping and glistening in the sun. She giggled and snuggled into you, unaware of just how huge this moment was.

Except, she didn’t turn back.

An hour passed. Then two.

Eventually, you found yourselves dragging her little inflatable pool across the living room so she could stay close. She didn’t mind. In fact, she was loving it, lounging like a little sea princess, wrapped in towels and smothered in kisses and attention. Rafayel even fashioned a tiny crown from seashells, which she proudly wore like royalty.

“Being a lemurian is the best!” she happily said, splashing the water lightly. “I don’t want legs ever again!”

That tune changed by day three.

She was sitting in the inflatable kiddie pool in our living room, arms crossed, frowning. “I can’t even walk to the kitchen,” she grumbled. “I want to go get my own snacks like a big girl!”

Rafayel chuckled and gently took her hand, coaxing her into focusing. “Alright, little guppy. Let’s try again. Just think about your legs.. picture how they felt, remember the way they moved…”

She tried. Really hard and focused, she did. But after a few failed attempts and a puff of bubbles, little farts coming out instead of transforming back, frustration bubbled over her.

“This is so dumb!” she huffed, kicking her tail dramatically. “Why won’t it work!!” she said as she kept kicking her tail dramatically, clearly inheriting that behavior from her father.

Seeing her on the verge of tears, you exchanged a knowing glance with Rafayel, who gave a sigh of defeat. “Time to call in the 'expert',” he murmured, already pulling out his phone.

Within the hour, Aunty Talia arrived, walking into your living room like she owned the place, looking equal parts amused and ready to help.

“Well, well. Little guppy got herself stuck, huh?” she teased gently, kneeling by the small inflatable kiddie pool.

Seraphina sniffled and nodded.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Aunty Talia said warmly, brushing a wet curl from her face. “We all get stuck sometimes. But lucky for you, I’ve taught bigger Lemurians than your daddy how to shift. Let’s do this together, okay?”

And just like that, training began.

But even as your daughter pouted and tried again, you knew she’d figure it out eventually. She had your determination, Rafayel’s power, and the heart of the ocean in her chest.

And maybe… a little too much fun being pampered like a princess for now.

[jadeloverxd]

Pls do Saja Boys x Popstar!Reader. The popstar could be a Sabrina Carpenter type! Thank you!

You got it my friend 😘 I’ve been simping HARD for the Saja boys ever since the trailers and movie came out.

Saja Boys x F!Reader; otherwise called reader is nervous at all the attention from a group of hot guys.

I tried to make it as ambiguous as possible as to what the reader looks like, the only thing that’s set is that the reader has at least hair on their head 😅

Summary: Coming back from your world tour, you expect to rest for a bit before going back to performing. What you didn't expect was gaining the attention of five super attractive men that just can't seem to leave you alone.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: I might make a continuation of this with some nsfw bits for each member, let me know if that’s something y’all would be interested in

Tags: @floredaqueen

Getting back to your home from your tours has always been a highlight that you treasure, especially from how exhausting performing is. Still, there is nothing that you would change about your life. Currently, you just got home and cleaned yourself up and decided that going for a walk would be nice. The city is beautiful and getting some fresh air would do you some good.

That's how you now find yourself roaming the street in the market section of the city as you people watch. Occasionally, watching some of the birds as they're flying. One bird grabs your attention from the others though in the way it seems to be watching with... purpose, eventually landing on a sign that is nearby where you were standing.

Normally it wouldn't really be something that you pay attention to, despite you liking birds, but something about this particular bird just gets your attention.

The bird must have thought the same as it stays on the sign despite you getting closer.

"Well, you have some interesting patterns, don't you little guy?" You say to yourself as the bird just watched you, something flickers in your peripheral, but before you can turn to see it, the bird lets out a chirp bringing your attention back to it.

“Hm? Guess you don’t like being ignored, understandable, you’re a very handsome bird,” you smile at the bird before turning to leave, slightly waving to it as you continue to walk around, oblivious to the eyes that follow your form as you leave.

Some time passes before you decide to go back to your home, using the time to listen to some of the songs on your next album to feel out if they're up to your standards.

Days pass with you enjoying your short break and taking the time to slowly get back into your routine of dancing and singing practice. You had just finished your latest practice session when you decide to go back to town to get some groceries, maybe try out that new recipe you've been meaning to indulge in. You’re walking in the direction of the store you most frequent when you see the same bird, a smile coming across your face as you slightly wave to it again.

“Hello my little friend! Didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” you smile until a cough sounds from behind you.

You quickly turn face going red at being caught talking to a bird of all things, before it lands on an incredibly handsome stranger who has a small smile on his face. One that also shows he definitely saw you talking to a bird.

“You always talk to birds, or did I just get lucky to see it?” He says with a small smirk on his face.

“I- uh, no not,” you clear your throat trying to will the heat from your face to die down, “I try not to make it a habit,” you stammer out eventually calming down enough to meet his gaze.

His very handsome gaze that is, the heat slowly returns to your face while your eyes dart around.

You eventually get your bearings, clearing out your throat as you look at him eyes quickly flicking across him, really getting a look at him before finally retorting.

“Do you always watch girls when you’re out or did I just get lucky?” A small smile unintentionally making its way to your face before you quickly choke it down with an eyebrow raise, seeing a near drop dead gorgeous man definitely isn’t something you’ll complain about, but still a man is a man no matter how hot.

The stranger just lets out a low chuckle before stepping a little closer to you, eyeing the bird before it flies off to seemingly nowhere.

“Not really, only the pretty ones,” he says, hands in his pockets of his jeans while he looks you up and down. Before you get the chance to stammer out a reply, four other equally just as gorgeous men come around to him before one of them, the one with a shirt that is clearly hanging on for dear life, claps him on the shoulder.

“Yo, Jinu, we’re waiting for you man- woah,” the man who you would definitely say could call you any time looks at you with a look of recognition, one that you try to shake your head as fast as you can without looking insane.

“So you have a name! Love that for you, sorry for being weird- you guys have fun with whatever you were doing!” You quickly make your way out of there with a hand covering your face to shield it from their eyes as you could practically feel steam coming off it.

The one who recognized you still has wide eyes as he realizes that yeah you are that one definitely famous singer and oh my gosh he can't believe that you ran into them. He quickly clues in the other men who are just confused at both of your reactions, the news making Jinu smile as he starts to think maybe he was right to send his little bird to watch you.

“Oh my gosh I looked like an idiot, a complete moron in front of five hot guys. Ugh girl you need to get your shit together,” you mutter to yourself as you continue walking towards a clearing where some people are talking about a boy group performing there.

You pull your sunglasses on and pull up your jacket a bit to avoid being recognized as you stand in front of a gathering crowd as some music starts. To your shock and horror, the same men that you’d bumped into are performing and singing.

“Oh my gosh I’m so dead, I have to die of embarrassment now, no I need to leave the country,” your muttering is interrupted as you make eye contact with who you now know as Jinu as he winks at you, your face erupting into heat as you pull the strings of your jacket to cover your face. Meanwhile the women and men behind you scream as they think it’s for them.

The action causes the Saja Boys to smile wider as they notice you hiding your face. They continue with their song, you still listening and your shoulders unintentionally bouncing up and down to the music. They notice with glee, their song ending as they send out finger hearts to the crowd watching your reaction as you try to look anywhere but their faces.

They finish their song, officially making their debut as they seemingly disappear into thin air. This gives you the chance to finally go to the store and get all the things you need for your dinner. You're heading back to your home when you hear someone call out to you, you are turning with fear that it's a crazy fan. Instead, you hesitantly turn around to see that it is instead the five hot guys with handsome smiles on their faces. Maybe the fan would have been better, you think as your grip tightens on the groceries in your hands.

The one with long pink hair in the shape of a heart is the first one to greet you as he waves with a large grin on his face.

"You saw our show, right? Did you enjoy it? My name is Romance,” He smiles at you, the action has you lowering your shoulders a bit at his smile. He's pretty friendly, still devastatingly attractive though.

"Uh, yeah I did! It was really good, you were really good!"

You smile back a bit shy, eyes darting between the five men as their eyes zero in on you. The action causing you to get a bit bashful at the cropped shirt that leaves your stomach and cleavage slightly exposed. The men barely try their best to avoid being obvious at their shameless staring, but let their eyes wander a bit.

Jinu is the next one to speak, offering a hand as he speaks.

"Did you now? You need any help with those groceries; we'd be more than happy to help you~" He purrs out, a wolfish grin taking over his face as your face heats up at the look he gives you. Curse you for your dry spell, just looking at these guys is enough to bring some heat to you.

"No! No I'm- I'm fine really and I don't want to stop you guys from whatever you're up to," you let out as the one with mint hair has no shame in smirking at your bashfulness as you make eye contact with him. Who you later learn is Mystery, silently makes his way around you as you slightly back away from the hungry looks they give you. Your back hits his chest as you look up, you making a surprised sound to see him. He has a slight smile on his face at the look of shock on your own.

"We're not too busy, especially not when we could help a gorgeous woman out~" The one with the ill-fitting shirt says tilting himself down a bit to stare directly into your eyes, as he smirks at your nervous expression.

"No really! I wouldn't want to impose," you let out with a small laugh making your way into the direction of your house. They let you back away looking at you with a gaze that screams they would eat you up if given the chance.

A week passes by from the interaction you had, the memory playing in your head like a broken record. The memory is still playing during your practice in your dance studio as you hear voices passing by. You're in the middle of a break as your backup dancers are casually speaking to each other while you leave the room to grab more water and a sports drink. You're at the vending machine when you can physically feel eyes on you, you turn your head a bit to see the most muscular member of their group behind you.

He looks you up and down before letting a coy smile make its way to his face as he leans against the wall across the vending machine. You whip your head around, face getting heated up as you can feel it creeping to your ears.

"So, how's practice going for you?" You hear his deep voice close to you as you turn around a bit and see him now down to your ear, you let out a sound that could be comparable to unholy as you realize just how close he was. Immediately, you start stammering as you try to put some distance between you.

"It's- um, you're so close, it's going," you clear your throat as he just smirks at you, "It's um good; it's going good we were just going on our break for the next hour, rest a bit y'know? Hehe how's uh how's your practice going? What's your name by the way, never uh never got it..."

God, you have been out of the game for so long, can you speak to even one person normally?

He raises his eyebrows, not really expecting you to give a response, but gives a small smile, "names Abby, guess we never really introduced ourselves, huh?"

Your shoulders lower themselves at his response, a small smile gracing your features as you finally make eye contact.

"No, you really didn't, so new group, right? Your performance was really good, really catchy too!"

You smile at him before reaching to grab your drink from the machine, having forgotten about it, but Abby beats you to it, reaching down and grabbing the drink before holding it out to you. You grab it, but he holds it a bit tighter before letting go, his hand brushing yours.

"Well, if you get bored during your break feel free to come watch us practice in room four, I'm sure the guys would love to see you," Abby waves at you as he leaves.

You're left at the vending machine, heart thundering at the brief contact as you watch his back leave before he turns the corner to go back to their dance studio. You are so about to make a mistake going to see them, is all that you think as you're returning to your own room.

After getting back to your room, your dancers and you disperse to do your own thing for the next hour. With some thinking, you decide fuck it and head down to where Abby said they were practicing. You can hear music playing as you look through the door and see them taking a break and make eye contact with Abby who smiles before going to the door to let you in.

"So, you decided to join us?” Abby leans on the door covering your body form view as the other guys in the room wonder who he’s talking to.

“Yeah, figured why not not everyday you can watch a hot new group in their element,” you chirp out before realizing what you said.

“Sorry not hot! I mean you are hot, but I didn’t mean that hot I meant hot as in really popular!” You wince at Abby holding in his laugh as he leads you into the room.

As you enter the room, all their eyes fall on you and your hit with the feeling that you’ve walked into the lions den.

“Welcome princess, didn’t realize we’d have a guest or else I’d have cleaned up,” Jinu says as he looks your form up and down. He’s wearing a loose shirt and grey sweatpants that does nothing to hide his physique.

The other guys in the room all have looks of hunger at your outfit, still breathing heavily from their practice. The one with lilac hair covering his eyes is the second to approach you as he offers you some water.

“Figure you’d want water, I’m Mystery,” he quietly says before going to sit on the floor one leg propped out as he continues to catch his breath.

You’re holding the water to your chest when Abby leads you to where the speaker is, now turned off since they’re taking a momentary break. They sneak glances at you while you sit a little awkwardly just listening to them chat.

Eventually, Jinu calls them back to practice. They start with Soda Pop, as they dance your shoulders bop along to the music while they pour their attention to you making your face flush from the looks they give you.

"Cause I need you to need me," Jinu points at you and smirks, you look away before turning your attention back.

"I'm empty, you feed me," Romance licks him lips while looking you up and down.

"So refreshing," Abby winks at you while pulling his shirt a bit to expose his chest.

"My little Soda Pop," Baby turns towards you and gives you a sultry look before continuing with the dance.

They dance through the chorus while their attention remains on your form, you feel slightly exposed and flush a bit at all their gazes. They finish their dance, and you clap for them, "nice! You guys are good!"

Abby is the first one to approach you, leaning down breathing heavily as he cages you between his arms.

"Any notes you could give us, any suggestions," He asks lowly, voice slightly raspy. You swallow the spit in your mouth as you hold eye contact with him, stammering a bit.

Romance is the next to approach you going to your right side and leaning down a bit to your ear.

"Any pointers you could give us? Any moves you could show us?" He breathes in your ear, his hair tickling the side of your face. You start to breathe a bit heavier at the attention they give you, you lick your lips as they feel impossibly dry.

The action only grabs Abby's attention. He leans in closer so close he was only a hair away from your mouth and lets out a breath as he smirks.

"You nervous?"

You silently nod, leaning back the slightest bit as your back hits the mirrored wall of the studio leaving you trapped between the two men.

"Use your words, princess," Romance chides you from your right as your eyes dart to him. Breath leaving you at his words and your face heats before you stutter out a yes.

Abby takes some mercy on you and eases up on the barely there space and backs away leaving you to Romance as he gets a drink.

These boys are going to kill you.

Romance soon leaves the teasing as he goes off to get his own drink and talk with the other guys, you finally are able to grab a full breath, and your face finally calms down.

You bid goodbye to the boys as you go back to your own studio, mind reeling at the attention and proximity of the boys. These men are much too attractive to be doing this to you.

God help you, your heart can hardly take this.

[jadeloverxd]

Take my soul