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The music started up a joyful bubbly tempo. Laughter filled the air, and couples began to dance.

Quinn watched,  a smile on her face. She saw her mother, now surrounded by well-wishers. Seraphina caught Quinn's eye from across the plaza. With a glint, she subtly pointed her head towards Cael, then wiggled her eyebrows. 

Quinn groaned internally, sighing dramatically, and rolled her eyes in exaggerated exasperation. A small smile, however, tugged at her lips despite herself. Her mother was relentless.

Quinn hesitated for a moment, the idea of approaching Cael in this setting feeling utterly alien. She knew him to be closed off, especially to emotional displays. But her mother's words echoed in her mind, and a strange pull urged her forward.

With a breath, Quinn began to weave her way through the dancing crowd. It took her a few moments to reach Cael, who still stood like a statue, his gaze focused on the dancing figures. 

"They look like they're having fun," Quinn says, as she came to stand beside him, watching her friends with a genuine warmth, a slight laugh escaping her. She glanced at Cael, who was now standing beside. "Maybe we should join them?" She knew it was a long shot, but the thought, just for a moment, was tempting.

Cael scoffed, a short, dismissive sound. "I don't dance, Flour." His voice was flat.

Quinn’s smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, rubbing it off with a slight, embarrassed laugh. "Right, of course. Forget it." She turned back to the dancing crowd, feeling a familiar wave of his characteristic emotional brick wall. It was frustrating, how easily he could just shut down.

Cael turned his attention back to the crowd. I don't dance. The words had come out automatically, a reflex honed by years of guarding his every reaction. Because it's frivolous. Because it's weak. Because... He squeezed his eyes shut for a microsecond. Because he didn't know how. He hadn't danced since before his mother died.

He glanced at Quinn. Her eyes reflected a quiet longing as she watched Ayda and Ivenna twirl. She was so open, so vulnerable in her emotions, yet she was fiercely strong. It was something he found both baffling and... captivating. She was everything he wasn't, everything he tried not to be. But maybe... maybe that wasn't a bad thing. Maybe strength came in different forms.

The lively music began to shift again. The tempo slowed, softening into a tender melody. One by one, the energetic dancers settled into a slow sway, embracing partners tightly, or simply allowing the music to guide a more gentle, intimate movement.

The atmosphere changed, becoming almost dreamlike. Soft lamplight glinted off the dancers.

Quinn watched, a quiet melancholy settling over her. The beauty of the moment, the gentle sway of the figures, highlighted the aching absence of such peace in her own life. She felt a wistful longing for something she couldn't quite name.

Then a shadow fell over her.

Quinn looked up, surprised. Cael had moved. He stood directly in front of her, his usual stiff posture softened by the dim, romantic lighting. His gaze, usually so sharp and wary, was fixed on her, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of genuine vulnerability, a hesitant uncertainty she’d never witnessed before.

Slowly, carefully, Cael extended one hand towards her, his palm open, almost as if he was offering her a piece of himself. His other hand was held stiffly behind his back.

His voice, usually a low growl or a clipped command, was surprisingly soft, almost a murmur, barely audible above the gentle strains of the music.

"May I have this dance... Flour?"

Quinn's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened, surprised. The sarcasm, the guard, the stone walls – they had all vanished, replaced by this unexpected, utterly sincere invitation. It was a leap of faith, a moment of profound courage from a man who prided himself on never being vulnerable.

A slow smile, soft and genuine, spread across Quinn's face.. Without a word, she reached out, her hand light and hesitant as she took his. His skin was warm, calloused, but surprisingly gentle.

As their fingers intertwined, a subtle, almost imperceptible glow emanated from their joined hands.

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Scary Movie Night with the first years

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crackship from twt 👍

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the good ending ☀️

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hoping no one did this duo yet 🙏

and if you're wondering why aika is in a punk-ish fit? WELL BECAUSE I CAN !! SLAY OR BE SLAYED 😼

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I cannot write the next scene until I’ve laid face-down on the floor and thought about it for 3–5 business days

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Me: I’m gonna write a lighthearted story :) Also me: What if the main character watched their world burn down in chapter 1?

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Apparently Miles is a JJK fan (in the comics)

If you put these two in a room together I think the result would be adorable 🥺

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crackship from twt 👍

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Drew this for a friend, I can’t believe I’ve never drawn them out before 💔🥹

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For the rest of our lives

Bonus+

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They’re practicing

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you ever watch something and just think... "god i cannot wait to get on ao3 after this"

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How it feel to finally accept and embrace the cringe of reading x reader fics

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never seen a more accurate thing on tiktok