#HOW DO YOU FEEL TO BE IN THE PRESENCE OF GREATNESS

[okwonyo]

LESSONS ， 𝗉𝗌𝗁

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌

𝟏𝟐𝟑𝟔𝒾──── tutor!sunghoon 𝗑 f!rea ✿ fluff getting together 𓂋 kissing skinship ❞ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ｡

rbs ！ ✶ 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦 for @tzyunaes ◜ ᴗ ◝

“you did well, i’m proud of you.”

it’s long overdue. passing your chemistry exams, after a entire semester of spending your free time at school, to be tutored and tortured.

tortured by the creation of the gods themselves leaning right behind you, overing your shoulder to see your grade, close enough to rest his hot breath against your neck.

you can exhale again when he finally leaves the personal space he seems to like a lot, the personal space that is yours. he sits on the chair next to you, which is not better than his previous position. his presence itself drives you crazy.

sunghoon licks his lips. sending a random cramp in the pit of your stomach. you don’t really know what to do, you open your mouth slightly to say something alas your tutor’s unwavering gaze makes you unable to talk.

“can i kiss you?” your eyes widen. saying that you are surprised is an understatement. and seeing the man’s remaining calm demeanor baffles you even more.

there is much you want to say, many questions he needs to answer. however, as in every lesson, you are unable to formulate a proper sentence. “i–what?”

sunghoon chuckles as he watches your cheeks redden. behind his frameless glasses, his eyes narrow, teasingly.

“i want to kiss you, i never tried to hide it,” he states, in this borderline condescending, undeniably attractive tone he always uses. “i think you want to kiss me too.”

you could pass out from embarrassment alone. you never thought your attraction to him, your tiny crush was well hidden. your unceasing thought and wonders on how his mouth would taste like, however— you believed they were a bit more discreet.

“so, i’m asking, can i kiss you?”

“uh,” you wonder, silently, if you have ever sounded this stupid before, “sure.”

your shaking and breathy answer doesn’t seem to bother him. he looks more endeared than anything else— even making fun of you in his head.

“great,” he says, taking one of your chair’s legs. he pulls you closer to himself in a quick movement and you know, he is somehow flexing his muscles right now.

sunghoon thinks its lovely how easy it is to make you nervous. from the first tutoring session, he knew that his mission would be to, making you understand chemistry apart, seduce you.

he was never subtle about it. he loves to tease you with his weighing gaze, standing close to you but never touching, sliding allusions in his words and watching you physically react to all of his actions.

making you learn chemistry wasn’t the hardest part. you were cute, very cute, and smart: able to understand terribly fast. the hardest part of the job was trying to make you notice how bad he wanted to kiss you.

he passed most all of his time biting his lower lip, nervously bumping his knee, crossing his arms under his chest as he watched you bite into your pen.

when he wasn’t explaining chemistry to you, he was thinking of the obvious one between you and him—while wondering what your lips would taste like.

sunghoon is a pretty bold guy, yet he haven’t earned the courage to do anything but tease you. today, he asked if he could kiss you without planning, controlled by a sense of hurry, thinking it would be his very last chance.

as he leans in, he still wonders: what is the taste of the lipstick you are wearing, what does your soft lips under it feels like, if would you run your finger through his hair, if you would cup his face in your gentle hands, jf would you let him touch you, if would you touch him.

he knew, from the moment his mouth was on yours, that he wouldn't want to stop. it’s a small kiss, a mere and shy contact, but he still sighs when he gets what he wants.

it’s nothing really, yet it sends butterflies right to his stomach.

“ninety four out of hundred on a chemistry test,” his voice is hoarse as he pulls away a tad. “how many kisses is that, hm?”

“…a lot,” you answer.

“oh, yeah?” he breathily laughs. he puts his hand in the back of your head, “i think so too.”

meanwhile he restrained himself the first time, he is not strong enough to control himself the second time. after months of dreaming about this, finally getting it, he doesn’t want to be shy about what he wants to do to you.

he groans into your mouth when his glasses gets in the way. he is forced to pull away from your heavenly lips to take them off and yank them somewhere he can’t care enough of.

through his slightly opened eyelids, he sees you with your eyes closed, chasing for his lips and looking at least as desperate as he is.

his heart is pounding, his hand finding the nape of your neck, he presses you closer to himself, so goddamn eager to kiss you again.

your lipstick tastes like peaches, your fingers craving in his hair sends chills down his long spine, you let him him stroke the side of your thigh as your touch drives him insane.

and if he thinks you are the one trying to send him into a spiral— then he must not know that his hand slide from thigh all the way to your hips.

he pulls your hips, closer, closer, closer. he continues until he is satisfied, until you are right where he wanted, right how he wanted: out of breath and climbing on his lap.

while your tutor is living his dearest dreams, a scenario better than his most precious fantasies, you feel like melting under the melt of his praise.

he always does that. he is always telling you how good you are doing, how proud of you he is for the bare minimum. it already sent waves of warmth in your body, but when you are doing this, it’s different.

“holy shit, baby,” his voice is shaky between a deep kiss. “you are so good at this,” —he licks your lips— “keep going.”

sunghoon’s thick eyebrows furrow as the kiss gets deeper. you grip onto his shoulders for the life of you— feeling your pulse getting higher and your skin heating every passing second.

you move your lips against his, like it was your birthright to be in this position as of now.

perhaps. you don’t know how long he can kiss without breathing but you are sure it’s way much longer than you.

sunghoon whines when you pull away, chasing after your lips with multiple pecks. you have to tilt your head up, a giggle escaping from your breathless chest— he aims for your neck.

“i’ll teach you how to last longer,” he smiles against your neck. then he looks pauses to look at you.

you rest your forehead against his, biting down an obvious smile, “i hope you don't reward all your students like this.”

“only the ones i want.”

you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in for another kiss. “cute.”

sunghoon pulls you closer to his circle of warmth by your waist. he kisses you so hard that you almost lose your mind, living up to his words, kissing you until there is no other option but pulling away with heavy chests.

chemistry is the best subject ever.

분지 ܃ in the utmost hope jenn will come back to me— and that the hoon girlies will come my way 💌 thank you ima for helping me out with this ! ^_^

© 𝖮𝖪𝖶𝖮𝖭𝖸𝖮 ୨୧ 𝟐𝐎𝟐𝟓 ── taglist ( open )

[mahajio]

I wanted to comment on this lovely artwork, but it kiiiiiinda got of out of hand and no longer fits in a single reply, so I'm putting it in my reblog instead!

First and foremost, describing Marcille's aura as "prey animal" honestly clicked with me more than I was expecting it to. I tried to articulate my thoughts on it, but I couldn't pull it off in a way that makes any sense, so all I have to say on it for now, is that it feels like this post added a vital little puzzle piece of Marcille's character in my mind!

Now then, as for the actual art, it's absolutely beautiful! I really like these game-esque artworks you draw, because they look aesthetically pleasing and just have a certain energy to them that you totally nail in every possible way! I— I'm sounding really vague here, I know! It's difficult to find a way to properly describe what I like about it so much. Anyways, that first drawing looks really good!

Marcille peaking her head through such a small doorway while saying "Come out, come out" made me feel like she was the one hunting, but I soon realized it feels much more like she's trying to find whatever is doing the hunting here before it finds her. Her expression has been drawn masterfully, displaying a perfect mix of worry and fear, with those little tears dripping down her face making for a nice addition as well. I also think you did a great job with colouring and shading her, and the way her Falin doll kind of looks like it's peeking with her is really neat. It's a small comfort as she looks into this marvelously disgusting room, tainted in a green-brownish hue and riddled with an almost indistinguishable mess of foliage and other kinds of matter. With how dark the drawing is, I didn't even notice the border of the first artwork is actually blue until I looked at the second drawing! I think it's a nice colouring choice that goes well with the overall colour scheme of the drawing.

The second drawing is equally as marvelous, and most certainly worthy of some serious praise! Be forewarned that I might be wildly misinterpreting what I'm seeing here, and for all I know those little eyes above her head are just icons to indicate her stress or something, but what the heck, I sees what I sees. I love how the black-and-white background has been detailed with all sorts of books, and the way those three oozing eyes stare at Marcille from behind the upper shelf looks incredibly scary, especially since they pop so much more thanks to the background's colour — or rather, the lack thereof. (WOW, the coloured thing has a more noticeable presence when everything around it lacks colour? Crazy observation.) That little smidge of dark green above the eyes adds a nice tad of shading, too. Something I also noticed is that one of the eyes' ooze dangles in front of Marcille's forehead, which makes it look like whatever is behind her is just about ready to envelop her completely. It looks very unsettling, and it's clear Marcille agrees, if her expression is any indication. Those wide eyes and sweat-covered hands clutching at her dress (love how you drew the creases in her dress where her hands are gripping it, by the way) perfectly demonstrate that prey animal energy you mention in the description. Like a deer caught in headlights. What makes it work even better is that typically, Marcille is loud and expressive, especially when she's scared. But now? She's dead silent. She doesn't look scared; she looks terrified. I love it!

I only just now noticed that the pitch blackness in the background drips over the second row of books too, and it even completely covers the right side, to the point where it's started oozing from the shelf. It further adds to this suffocating atmosphere, as if the second Marcille moves even an inch, she's done for. Also, this is something I com-PLETELY forgot to mention, but that portrait of Marcille's mother is another nice addition, helping to make the background a little fancier! Ah, one last thing I wanted to touch on is the UI, which also looks great. The doll's slumped over nicely, adding to its…'dollness,' (riveting commentary, I know) and the candle just scratches my brain right with how its been drawn. Seriously, I cannot stress enough how much I love the thick lines you use for drawing and colouring. Your art style is quite unique, and it is a joy to look at! Gooosh, and the red text for that totally regular book that her cursor's hovering over further adds to the ominous atmosphere that this artwork's got going for it! Like, I honestly cannot stress enough how much I love this. It really is just marvelous all around.

As an aside, I really like the asymmetry of the cursor/selector thingamajig. I think it adds to the style a lot, and I also appreciate the basic details that you didn't neglect to add, such as that little line in the green bar, the question mark behind the "select" option to indicate the book hasn't been selected juuuust yet, and her 2,5 remaining hit points. It all comes together stupendously! I love this a lot!

Well anyways, I kinda kept rambling on, and now it's midnight! Whoops! So much for maintaining a sleep schedule, me! Ah, anyways, I wish you a stupendous rest of your weekend! Marvelous art!

marcille and her prey animal energy🤞

[nymphbnny]

this is a short one, just a thought i had today at work and i had to share it with you or i would’ve combusted ౨ৎ

who, if not toji, would be a better fit for a stress relieving session?

definitely nsfw, and not proofread, bit of a drabble if you like

“i need some buff, tall, strong man to toss me around and fuck the hell out of my brains,” is what you said two days ago to your friend at work. you were stressed, no time to hang out, no time to have some fun and the frustration was seriously starting to eat at you.

“if you are just looking for a fuck, i think toji would be a great match.”

you snickered. it was a dumb suggestion. he wasn’t the most talkative nor the nicest at work. being a manager a night club and you being all up in your office doing the accountant work make it rare for you to even cross paths. the only times he’d come up were either to pay some receipt he left pending or to attend the weekly manager meeting.

he suited the job description, you gave him that. and he looked so fucking hot doing it too. black fits, muscles squeezing the fabrics, green eyes glaring, tending bar whenever the team needed an extra hand. you weren’t as unfamiliar with him as he was with you. you’ve seen him once or twice during action when you needed to grab something from the club after hours.

but to think he’d even agree to fuck you? actually rewind that, does he even know your name to begin with? he barely smiles at anyone, rarely acknowledges other people’s presence, what could possibly make your girlfriend think for a moment that not only he’d be a great fuck but that he’d be interested in the first place.

yeah, hold on to that thought.

you whimpered against his forearm as he held you in a headlock, his hips hitting yours as he moved at a rough pace, his thickness spreading you open.

“shit doll, if i knew you felt so damn good i would’ve hit that a long time ago,” he whispered in your ear, licking at your neck resulting in a moan slipping from your lips.

your hand latched onto his bicep, you nails digging in his skin as he picked his pace up, your skins mixing the sounds of sweat and slick. he’s had you in this position for a few minutes now, drilling his fat cock inside your abused cunt.

“so good, fhuckk,” he groaned, his palm printing itself on your check with a loud slap. you could feel him pulling you upwards, your back arched at an exquisite angle, your spot now fully rubbing against his swollen tip. you rolled your eyes as his hand found it way to your clit, teasing and edging you in the cruelest of ways. “think i never noticed you huh?” he whispered making you fight your ecstasy to focus on his words.

“think i didn’t see how you looked at me whenever i’d come up, or that tight fucking half buttoned shirt you’d put on, damn,” he groaned pulling at your tongue with his fingers to make you drool on your tits. “suffocating your perfect tits, you had me hard whenever i’d see you,” you moaned through his speech, your mind clouding up. you attempted to pull him closer by wrapping your hand around his neck. he chuckled at your desperation, bending down to let you kiss him.

it was messy and sloppy but exactly what you needed. he shoved his tongue in your mouth enjoying the feeling of suction you provided. you were so needy, he thought to himself. he felt you tense up your walls when his fingers twisted at your nipples, your body rocking itself to match his tempo.

“be my good girl tonight baby, be my good girl and let me come inside that sweet pussy tonight.”

[sourle]

Love me, Not AU

So emotional.. My love for you..

WARNINGS: none

Note: FINALLY, It's here.

You hum, leaning against the porch of the main cabin’s railings. Watching the others interact with each other. It’s one of those normal times where nothing goes wrong, rounds IT gives are over and there’s nothing else to do. Everyone seems energized and awake. No tired yawn, no distressed look. Even Noob looks like they went through a party with their newly colored side hair.

Footsteps approached from the side, on instinct you looked towards the owner, seeing it’s only Taph. He waves and you return one, albeit awkwardly. Taph seems doesn't mind your presence even after the awkward confession you did in the middle of a chase with the killer behind you two.

He stood next to you and you brought your gaze back to the others, forcing yourself to not think of the confession. Maybe you’re not his type, that’s why he hasn’t responded yet.

Welp another crossed on the list, First was Elliot, next Noob… Third Guest. Now Taph.

You glance to the side just to get a sight of Taph staring at your face, “..What?” Taph’s hands moved in a precise movement, practiced all his life.

“🫵😔, 🫵👌❓" (You seem upset, are you okay?) You nod, a bit quickly before waving your hand up and down.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry ‘bout me.” You put on a smile, watching as Taph’s head tilted before he shrugged and nodded. The two of you look back to the other survivors and watched them.

What they think about you:

Noob

They think you're cool! A great friend really! They just don't understand what's so good about them that makes you like them. Still recovering from the confession.

Elliot

To be honest, he doesn't know how to respond to the confession. In the end he reject your confession because he's unsure to pursue a romantic relationship, especially in a place like this.

Shedletsky

He thinks you're nice and all, a good friend. Nothing more, he can't seem to see you romantically. Plus he's not looking for a relationship, so don't beat yourself to it.

Builderman

He likes you, like a friend. Sadly. Like Shedletsky, he's not looking for a partner, especially the situation him, you, and the others are in.

Dusekkar

He's one to see your desire for a partner till' death. He can't say he's amused, but knowing you have confessed to many gave them a bit distrust feelings about you. Yet he comments not as he observes you. Yes he would reject you. Don't be sad, his reasons are the same as both Shedletsky and Builderman. The situation.

Chance

He catches your flirts and charms before returning them himself. He likes you, seeing you as a playful friend, buddy. He won't know unless you approached first.

Two Time

They does not trust you, They're staying loyal to their ex-lover. Yes they're flattered you took a liking to them, but sorry, they're rejecting.

Guest 1337

Him just showing off his ring. He thinks your nice and all but sorry. Flashes his ring

Taph

he doesn't know how to respond to it, he opted to stay silent so he wont hurt or get your hopes up. He's not ready, not now.

007n7

He thinks you would be a good parent for c00lkid, but he's not yet ready for a partner unless c00lkid is REALLY pushing him. He likes you.

NOTE:

if you guys want a killer version... uhhh... inbox is open.

[takenbypeter]

Delivery Girl With A Date

Bob Reynolds x fem!reader

Words: 2265

A/N: Part 3: The date!! DUN DUN DUUUHHH! lets goooooo! Idk what to do after this so this might be the end of this lil series. Or it might not be 👀 idk but I hope you like it ✨✨✨ props to @sebbystans1fan16

Previous Parts:

Part 1: Delivery For Bob

Part 2: Delivery For The New Avengers

You couldn’t believe life sometimes. One minute you’re elated to even be in the presence of The New Avengers, and then the next, one is confessing his feelings for you and taking you out on a date. 

Honestly it was just baffling to you. And obviously while Bob being a “New Avenger”, was a perk, that wasn’t the main reason you agreed to this date. Bob was…cute, respectful, and dare say a bit on the awkward side which you just adored. I mean with that confession how could anyone dare turn him down. 

But now standing in the elevator as it descended with just you and him occupying the space you could tell just how nervous he was. 

His face was easily readable. And you could see he was taking caution in even his breathing as he stared at the numbers going down. The air in the elevator was thick. You were nervous too, but honestly you liked the man too much to let nerves ruin this night.

You leaned towards him giving him a gentle nudge with your shoulder against his, “you can relax I’m not going to bite you. I mean unless you want,” his eyes widened at your remark to which you added, “I’m joking.”

He exhaled a laugh, and you joined. 

“I know, it’s just…” his head tilted from side to side before he looked at you again. “I haven’t been on one of these in a long time. I want it to go well, you know?”

See that. That right there was sweet in itself. He was already so honest and straightforward with you. Even if it was the worst date in history you knew you’d still end up liking the man. 

“It’s going to be fine.”

He nodded and your cheeks lifted even more, “so where are we going?”

“I was thinking, I know it’s simple, but pizza. Unless of course you’re lactose intolerant or have any food allergies.”

You rested your hand on his arm, “pizza sounds great.”

A shy smile at your touch grew on his face as he repeated that word back at you, “great.” The elevator dinged and he led the way out to the pizza place. 

The place wasn’t too far. Which is exactly what Bob failed to think about. 

Once arrived Bob made a point to step forward and open the door. 

“Thank you kind sir,” you kid and he smiled following after you, before saying. “Figured I could at least cross one thing off of that embarrassing list.”

“Hey, I liked that embarrassing list. Besides there was nothing even embarrassing about that list.“

He led the way to a booth near the corner, where it was more secluded as you were just about one of the few people there. 

“You’re right, it was just the way I said it that was embarrassing,” he remarked, guiding you to your seat before he sat on the opposite side while you shook your head at his words. “It was cute.”

“Well I’m happy you thought so.”

A waiter came by and quickly took your order. Once she left you finally relaxed in your seat looking at the man across from you. “So you know a lot about me but I barely know about you. Tell me, why this pizza place?”

Bob looked around taking in the decor. “I don’t know. I, uh…I guess at the beginning of being a part of The New Avengers team, I found this place early on and it just felt comforting. It felt safe. So I came a number of times after that and yeah that was that.”

You nodded taking in his story. It wasn’t exciting, it wasn’t awe inspiring but it was truthful and understandable. 

“I get that.” You knew that feeling of a home away from home. “Did it feel like home?”

Bob’s eyes wandered a bit as he nodded again, and tried his best to make his next words not too depressing. “I wouldn’t say that.” A loud cough from a nearby table grabbed his attention but he finished his sentence, “home life was…complicated. Abusive dad, physical abuse, verbal abuse, it was hard.”

Your eyebrows raised realizing that you asked a question you probably shouldn’t have. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t, you’re fine, I don’t love talking about it, but talking about it makes it easier to realize that yeah that’s what happened and I can’t change that. It’s just something I have to grow from. I have my down days because of it but I think I’m okay now. Really,” he nodded and again that warm smile of yours returned and he felt it again. That light, airy, heated sensation in his chest like he just wanted to see that smile all day. 

Before he found himself getting too lost in it, it was his turn to ask a question. “Um, what about you, what was your childhood like?” He asked. 

“Same old, same old. Arguments, siblings fighting, the usual. But now we all get along I think, so not too bad I guess.”

“That’s good. That’s kind of how I feel now on the team.”

“Your team seems very fun,” you compliment, genuine. 

“They’re a bit much most of the time, but in a welcoming way. We just get each other.”

“That’s good! It’s good to have a group around that understands you.”

“It really is.”

Your food came and you both delved in, enjoying the cheesiness along with more questions as you got to know each other further. Bob’s crush on you only grew as you spent the time together and yours blossomed as well. 

You two were just about done with your meals when you decided to ask another question. “Okay, so this has been on my mind but I’ve been trying to stay away from the superhero questions. I don’t want it to seem like I’m only interested in you because of that.”

Bob nodded trying not to focus on the part where you said you were interested in him. Despite him sitting across from you he still found it hard to believe that you liked him too. 

“Okay so, The New Avengers? You guys all stopped that dark thing right? What was that like?”

“Ahem,” Bob let out an awkward laugh as he leaned back in his chair blinking a few times. He opened his mouth and the word, “actuall—“ A sudden loud, “cucumber! Cucumber!” Was heard through the restaurant and both you and Bob spun your head to the voice who suddenly had their back to you. 

You leave it at that and turn back around but you notice Bob’s eyes narrow as he squints at the figure and then, he notices two other bodies that sat at the same table as the first.

“Would you excuse me just for one second,” he stood and immediately headed towards the figures. 

Upon reaching the not so distant table he looked down at the three who avoided eye contact and lowered their caps, as if that did anything. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Bob asked. 

“I’m sorry I think you have wrong peoples,” Alexei’s voice rang from under his cap which Bob didn’t hesitate to grab and lift up before Alexei scrambled to grab it and place it back on his head. 

“What are you guys doing?”

“We just wanted to see you were okay,” Alexei answered, waving his hands at the other two to back him up. 

“Yeah we just wanted to make sure you didn’t biff this one Bobberino,” quipped John. 

“Not me. I was just promised food,” Ava said smiling behind her slice. 

“Okay well just so you know, this is weird. I’m a grown man. I don't need you all spying on me or looking out for me.” He waited for them to apologize, or up and leave—do something. But instead Alexei’s voice added, “what you said about team? So sweet,” his hand reached up pressing against his chest, “it really warmed my heart. But, maybe go a bit easy with backstory.”

“Yeah you don’t want to depress the poor girl and scare her off. Oh don’t mention the…” the blonde paused peeking back at your table before holding a hand up to cover one half of his mouth, “drugs,” John mouthed. 

“Eh I don’t know, she seems to be into the whole vulnerability thing, I say give her the whole layout,” Ava suggested and Bob couldn’t tell if she was trying to actually be helpful or trying to sabotage him, the expression on her face was very hard to read.  

“I can handle this, can you please,” he motioned for them to walk out the door and as he did he heard a ding bringing all their attention to the door causing him to spot another familiar blonde standing in plain sight at the front counter.

“Yelena? What are you doing here?” Bob asked, stepping up to her. 

“What? Can’t a girl just get some food?”

“That’s a lie she’s been standing there for twenty minutes,” John shouted, outing her. 

Yelena’s jaw dropped feigning offense, “what? That is not true. Sure maybe I’ve been standing for a while but this menu is just very extensive.”

“Okay, you all just need to leave. Now please, I’m begging you.” He pleads and without getting confirmation from them he turns his back and returns to you who obviously has heard basically all of the conversation. 

You noticed how tense he was again and honestly you couldn’t blame him. You leaned forward, your voice a bit quieter, “hey, do you want to get out of here?” You asked and he nodded with zero hesitation. 

He reached into his pocket pulling out some cash and leaving it on the table before you both made your way to the exit. 

On the way out you waved to the others who just smiled and waved in response. 

Once outside Bob felt like he could finally breathe again. “Sorry about them…again.”

“It’s alright they’re your family right? They’re just making sure that I’m not a serial killer and that you’re alright. It’s cool.”

“Well I’m glad you think so,” he mumbled a bit irritated but ultimately pleased they didn’t ruin the date. 

Bob suddenly stopped in place and you watched his eye-line as it went past you and towards the sidewalk across from you. You peeked over your shoulder but before you could get a good view of what grabbed his attention, he excused himself again. You watched as he looked both ways before running across the small road and stopping at a flower cart. 

From your spot you observed while he chatted with the owner and pointed in your direction. The two looked at you and then talked some more before the owner pointed and Bob picked up a bouquet. Handing over some cash he was quick to return with a small bouquet of beautifully colored plants in his hand. 

He extended it to you, “this is to apologize for my team. And for agreeing to go out with me.”

“Aww Bob,” you took the flowers and held them admiring the color scheme that worked so well together. “I told you it was okay.”

“Yeah but then this way I get to cross something else off the list.”

You grinned again remembering his endearing confession. 

You glanced down again and beamed down at the small but delightful gift. But as you looked up your eyebrows raised and you reached for his hand. 

“I have someplace to show you. Let’s go,” you said, pulling him along. 

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere where we can cross that last thing off your list. Watch the sunset, remember?” He didn’t reply but you knew he remembered. 

You tugged his arm leading him to a park you were very familiar with. The park was averagely busy but you knew a secluded picnic table located a bit away. 

Once there you sat down and patted the empty space next to you for Bob to occupy. After he sat you two looked forward, staring out at the pretty view. It was comfortable. Not forced, just regular ol’ comfort. 

“Sorry about your childhood,” you spoke up feeling a bit guilty about before, despite you being aware of the fact that there was no possible way for you to even know without asking. 

“It’s okay.”

“…I’m not the best advice person but I am a great listener so if you ever need to talk I’m willing to listen.”

“Thank you, really. I appreciate it.” His features shifted as if he just remembered, “oh and you too, if you’re ever going through something, I can be there for you. If you’ll have me, of course.”

You smiled at him, “wouldn’t have it any other way,” it was crazy how close you felt to him. 

You noticed the sky shift as the sun continued to set and another still filled the air as you observed the sky actively transforming into a purple hue. Taking in the wonder filled view you leaned your head against his shoulder and he froze under your touch making sure not to move a muscle so you remained comfortable. 

“Do you think you would’ve ever made a move if your teammates didn’t basically give it away.”

“Honestly…I don’t think so.”

You hummed the sound vibrating against his shoulder and he relished in the way you felt against him. “Remind me to thank them the next time I see them.”

Bob’s eyes crinkled, the smile pushing his cheeks up before saying, “remind me to thank them too.”

[kaiserboom]

HOW CAN WE GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS if we just shared a bed?! ᯓ★

Context: when you guys been together for a long time- but they suddenly wanna break up with you! and to rub salt on the wound. they believe it's better to be platonic friends. (expect for Isagi who wants nothing to do with you) Pairings: Michael kaiser, Isagi yoichi. x fem! reader. (SEP) A/n: haven't been writing much... due to stupid assignments :sob: my requests are open I'm just a bit slow with answering em. YES this fanfic is based on a song. finally managed to post something bluelock.. Cw: pure angst. ooc?

Isagi yoichi

How can you look at me and pretend I'm someone you've never met?

Ever since he started going to that stupid place called "Blue Lock," the love he once showered you with felt off and hollow- like it was already worn out. Those energetic chats shifted from "My baby!" "My pretty girl" to just "Y/n." "Babe."

It was finally his day off, and you expected him to text, invite you out to hang out- or even ask you out on a date after all your his girlfriend, right? but he didn't. instead, he went home like It was any other day, as if the two of you weren't even dating.

To make it even worse, his friends started drifting away from you. You weren't exactly close with them, but Bachira, Chigiri and Hirori always referred to you as Isagi's girlfriend or Isagi's future bride. It was the only comfort you had in the mist of everything falling apart.

It felt stupid, yet at the same time, not. You were numb- and overwhelmed by a mix of anger and confusion. You couldn't understand what made him hate you so much. To clear your mind, you decided to go for a jog, lost deep in your thoughts. Your mind spiraled through a whirlwind of emotions and senses.

As you walked along a clear pathway on your right, you noticed someone in a hoodie. Expecting them to step aside, you kept your gaze ahead. But instead, they deliberately bumped into you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Watch it!" a sharp voice snapped.

"What! you came at me-" your tone shifted from pissed off to shocked as you looked up.

And there he was. it's Isagi.

He started at you like you were a creature, like you weren't even human.

"Shit." He muttered, rolling his eyes with visible annoyance. "Just fucking great!'

You looked at him, confusion clouding your mind. Desperate to shrink the distance, you reached out to give him a hug- after all, it had been months since you seen your boyfriend.

"Don't fucking touch me Y/n." He snapped, cutting you off from your expected movement.

Your eyes widened in further confusion. What was even going on?

"Sorry?" Your managed to say despite, that your voice ached.

He groaned, sounding genuinely bored by your presence. His eyes burned with a kind of hatred you never thought you'd see from someone you loved. The face you reviced was dark and distant. Nothing like the man you once knew. Despite everything, you still loved him, and you always expected him to love you back.

Tears welled up, but you refused to let them fall. instead, you swallowed the ache and backed away slowly, your heart breaking into pieces.

"Of course your backing away! pathetic!"

Maybe he hated you now. Or maybe he never loved you. But deep inside, you knew one thing for certain. some part of you would carry this pain forever. Because loving someone so deeply, only to see them turn way from you, was a kind of heartbreak that never truly healed inside of you.

He gave you one more disgusted look, before he disappeared into the distance, you stood there. Alone on that path, feeling of the weight everything you'd lost, hope, love and that boy you once believed was yours.

And finally the tears you held, finally fall across your face. Spilling over and tracing silent, trembling lines down your face.

↓

Michael kaiser It was last December You were layin' on my chest

The cold air seeped in through the open window, but inside the room the only warmth came from your interlace bodies. You lay on Michael's chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, your fingers loosely fiddling with his hair. It had been a long day, and for a while. All you could think about was how safe and peaceful you felt in his arms.

He was your everything. your comfort, your love, your home. And you believed it would always be like this.

But then, he spoke softly, breaking the soothing silence.

"Y/n... I've been thinking about us. About everything."

Your brow furrowed, confusion creeping into your mind.

"What do you mean kaiser?"

He hesitated, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before he finally looked away, eyes distant and void of the warmth you remembered.

"I think were better off....being just friends."

the words hit you like a punch in the gut. Your breath hitched, and everything around you seemed fuzzy and slow.

"What?! Kaiser... no!? what are you saying!" Your voice cracked, trembling with shock and disbelief. the weight of his words sank deep inside of your heart.

"I just... don't think were meant to be."

He finally looked at you, eyes glassy but painfully obvious he avoiding your eye contact. The warmth in his gaze was gone. Replaced with something colder, something more depressing- something you didn't recognize.

Tears start to blur your vision, but you fought to keep them from falling. You clutched his shirt desperately, as if trying to convince him to rethink.

"Why?! did I do something to hurt you!?"

His shoulders sagged, and he looked away again.

"No. It's not you. I just need to.. focus on myself. I think it's better for the both of us."

"So.. your throwing it away? Just like that?"

the tears finally spilled over, and the sniffling sound followed after, the tears streaming across your face as if they couldn't be stopped. You clung to him, desperate to convince him once again- to rethink.

"Don't you love me! Please tell me this a fucking prank! kaiser!"

He looked at you, a flicker of uneasy feeling flashing across his face. but it was gone like a match.

"I'm sorry Y/n I love you so much. I'm doing this for us."

He slowly sat up, avoiding your eyes. You reach out begging him to reconsider.

"I'm so confused! if you love me? stay! don't leave me.. not without trying goddammit!"

He hesitated for a moment. His jaw clenched, his mouth felt like a desert. He sighs before softly speaking.

"I hope you find happiness, Y/n. You need it."

And then, he rose to his feet. He paused at the door, looking back at you. Finally managing giving you eye contact-his gaze was filled with unspoken pain, you never seen before.

"I'm sorry. Goodbye, I love you so much."

With that, he turned and walked away leaving you alone in your thoughts, the room was now freezing cold. No more of that warmth to keep you from getting goosebumps.

Tears streamed freely now. Your chest aching with the weight of what just happened. Your body trembled as you curled into yourself, clutching your knees to your chest.

As the night stretched on, all you could was cry. Silent broken tears, that felt like raindrops, carrying the grief and sudden emotional of loosing someone you truly loved.

Because different people tend to grief differently. even if they truly never heal.

NOTE: oh wow!! was going add Nagi but like he already suffering enough. and michael's one is longer cause he my fav duhhh

[holylulusworld]

No more being ghosted

Summary: Dating. You’re not doing this anymore. Right?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff

Catch up here: Ghosted & Un-Ghosted

Alpine didn’t move an inch. You ate your cupcake and drank your tea with the feline lying in your lap.

“Uh—it’s getting late.” You say, glancing at Alpine, who didn’t move. “I should head out.”

“We could,” Bucky hesitates, but offers to have dinner with you. “We could order food. I can drive you home after dinner or now, if you don’t want to stay a little longer.”

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. After your bad experience with Seth, you’re unsure whether you want to spend more time with Bucky. “Maybe…”

“If you’re not comfortable staying here for dinner, I’ll drive you home. The last thing I want is to pressure you into doing something you would rather not do.” Bucky is quick to offer. He doesn’t want you to pull back again.

“No, no.” You shake your head. “We can order food and have dinner together. I didn’t want to be a burden and ruin your evening.”

“Doll, the last thing coming to my mind when inviting you for dinner is that you could ruin my evening. It’s a pleasure having you over,” he grins as Alpine shifts in your lap only to get comfortable again. “Alpine believes you’re her pillow now.”

Bucky grins when you start patting his cat. Alpine has already won your heart over. He reaches for his phone to scroll through the takeout options.

“What do you feel like eating?” he asks, his voice casual, yet tinged with a note of eagerness.

“Maybe something simple—pasta or pizza?” You suggest, as you busy your trembling hand with stroking Alpine’s fur.

“Pizza and pasta. Great,” he says, tapping away on his screen while asking for your preferences in pizza and pasta. “I know a place nearby that makes the best pizza in town, and their pasta is out of this world. You’ll love it.”

Bucky orders the food while glancing at you and his cat now and then. He smiles, while hope is blooming in his chest, as you seem to relax in his presence with every passing moment.

The food arrives quicker than you expected, and Bucky moves to set up the small coffee table. He places the boxes down, offering you to choose first.

Alpine finally hops off your lap and curls into her own spot on the couch, as if permitting you to enjoy dinner with her owner.

“So, what’s your favorite topping?” Bucky asks, sliding a warm slice onto your plate.

“Cheese and mushrooms,” you reply before taking a bite. Bucky ordered the pizza you wanted, and he’s right. It’s the best pizza you’ve ever had.

Bucky claims the seat next to you, earning a hiss from his cat because she now cannot hop onto your lap anymore. You smile while the conversation flows. You talk about the small things like books, music, or how you like to walk in the summer rain without an umbrella.

Bucky looks at you the whole time, never looking bored as he talks about his cat, his apartment, and his best friends, Steve and Sam.

By the time the plates were emptied, and the leftovers packed away, the evening had stretched into something unexpectedly peaceful.

“See, dinner with me wasn’t so bad,” he softly says. “I wasn’t bad company, right?”

You smile because he’s right. Dinner and talking to Bucky were nice. “I guess I’ll have to admit, you’re not bad company.”

“I knew it!” He grins from ear to ear, earning a chuckle from you. “So…” He clears his throat, expectantly looking at you. “Can we do this again?”

As you look at Bucky, you wonder if this could be the start of something beautiful, healing your fragile heart.

Part 3

[ohburgee]

Hi first time here after i saw your posts, i think they are great, but can i please ask for a...

Hatred! Builderman x Love! Reader?

where you know hate and love are opposites, and the reader always comes to hatred and try to give in love while hatred makes reader try to give in hate? i also imagine greed, solitude, and fear just watching since hatred and love are powerful and a bigger domain?

Love and Hate

Hatred!Builderman x Love!Reader

tw: emotional conflict, angst an: This request made me to write angst and I know Hatred will never feel love. But imagine just to see him have glimpse of love. Thank you for your beautiful request, Raine this made me to write angst which I want to write. DEMO 4 IS HERE!!!

Peeking into the room, you saw Builderman, no, Hatred, sitting on the floor, red vines curling and coiling around him like a silent storm.

You held the crystal heart tightly in your hands. You had carved it for him, to show him love, even if he was made of hatred. Even if he could never return it, you just wanted to give him a piece of what you felt. Just once.

You stepped into the room carefully, not wanting to disturb him. Your steps were quiet, hesitant. But before you could speak, he snapped his head around at the sound of your presence.

“You got me,” you said softly with a small smile.

He stood up slowly, watching you.

“Sorry to disturb you,” you added. “I just wanted to see you.”

He nodded and whispered, “It’s fine.”

That little reply made you smile again. He knew why you were here, just like all the times before. You had always come to him with love in your heart, even when he told you it was useless. Even when he didn’t understand it.

“I know I keep showing you this love,” you said gently, “but I just want you to feel even a little bit of it.”

He sighed. The same sigh he always gave when you started talking like this. He already knew what you were going to say.

“At least once, Hatred,” you said, stepping closer. “I know you think you can’t feel it. That you’ll never be part of love. But I try, because I still believe in you.”

Suddenly, he raised a hand, and red vines whipped forward, wrapping tightly around your wrists, holding you inches away from him.

You froze.

“Hat—” you started, but he cut you off.

“How many times do you have to do this?” he snapped. His gaze was sharp, angry, but beneath it, something trembled.

“I’ve told you again and again, I can’t feel love. I can’t be part of it,” he said through gritted teeth. He paused, then added in a quieter, bitter voice, “I can’t be part of you.”

You stared at him, your heart aching.

“As much as you try,” he continued, “you’ll never change what I am. I’m full of hatred. That’s all I’ll ever be.”

The vines released your wrists, and you took a small, shaky breath.

“Maybe there’s a… chance,” you said softly, trying to move closer.

But then, he shoved you back.

The crystal heart slipped from your hands and shattered on the floor.

“There’s no chance!” he roared, his voice like a monster unchained.

The room fell into silence as he looked down. His eyes landed on the broken pieces of the crystal heart, scattered across the floor like fragments of everything you had tried to give him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I promise I won’t do this again.”

You knelt down and carefully picked up the broken pieces, cradling them in your palms. You looked up at him one last time, then turned and walked away.

You didn’t look back.

...

You walked through the halls, your mind hollow, your heart heavier than ever. You had tried so hard, just to show him even a glimpse of love. And now you were left with broken pieces, and the echo of his rejection.

You returned to your room and climbed into bed. You curled up, hugging the shattered crystal to your chest as quiet sobs escaped your lips. A love rejected, by the one who wasn’t supposed to love.

And maybe that was the truth.

Maybe that was all he was ever meant to be.

...

Some time later, the door creaked open. Solitude stepped in, silent and calm. They sat gently at the edge of your bed and placed a hand on your side, offering comfort in the quiet.

They didn’t speak much, but their presence was enough. Enough to let you drift into sleep, tears still drying on your cheeks.

When Solitude left the room, they found Hatred waiting outside.

Without a word, Solitude stepped aside, letting him pass.

Hatred entered and quietly closed the door behind him. He walked toward you, careful not to wake you. You were curled on your side, still holding the broken crystal in your hands.

He sat beside you.

For a long moment, he simply watched you, your breathing soft, your face peaceful despite the sorrow still etched in your features.

Slowly, he reached out and brushed your hair back.

His eyes fell to the broken crystal heart. He gently took it from your hands and stared at it, guilt pressing into him like a weight.

He had told himself he couldn’t love.

That he wasn’t made for it.

But… this?

This tiny thing that you had carved for him?

He had destroyed it.

And it mattered more than he’d realized.

With a deep breath, he held the broken pieces between his palms. Red energy shimmered between his fingers as he used his power to restore it. The cracks disappeared. The crystal heart glowed faintly, red and soft, like both of your colors mixed together.

He stared at it like it was the most fragile thing in the world.

Then he placed it gently back into your hands, curling your fingers around it with his own.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead.

For the first time in his existence, something bloomed inside his chest. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t hate.

It was small.

But it was real.

And it was love.

Just a little bit.

Just enough to feel.

Just enough… to be part of you.

[miniseokminnies]

hey babies - bennie here

this is...tough to write but i want to be honest always. let's cut to the chase: i am extremely disappointed in seventeen. have been for quite some time. there's really no comfortable way to admit that, especially when fandom culture at the moment considers any kind of critique or search for accountability as hate.

i want to put some things into perspective before i continue. i have been a carat ulting seventeen since april 2023, aware of and enjoying seventeen casually (mainly through vernon's black eye) since december 2022. for over half of my time being a carat i have been actively boycotting hybe. this is important to me, i haven't done any official streaming since february 2024.

so unfortunately i have been feeling distant from them for quite some time. i have been trying so hard to stay close to them in other ways and continue to enjoy my time in caratland despite my boycotting. for a while, this was working for me. and then came love, money, fame. this collaboration was the first time i got a bad taste in my mouth about anything seventeen has done.

but as someone who is also a stay, i know that one bad collab doesn't make or break a group, just denounce it, make your voice heard, and move on. so i did. and for a while, everything went back to normal. i was disappointed when i heard about bad influence, but held out hope that it would be a song that was never officially released.

happy burstday is where things really did fall apart for me. bad influence on the tracklist, a zionist collab, and el capitxn with producing credits on wonwoo's solo, 99.9%. and now, seungcheol and mingyu's scheduled appearance on choiza's show. to say i am disappointed is a gross understatement.

seventeen really has healed me in ways i cannot comprehend, so to see them make problematic choices time and time again lately is extremely saddening. i'm sad, that's the gist.

NOW this is NOT a retirement post, i love this little community i've built too much to leave that easily.

as you guys know (or maybe you don't, how close of tabs do you keep on me HUH?) i am lucky enough to be participating in two upcoming collabs here on caratblr. i'm writing mingyu for @camandemstudios carat bay collab (coming like so soon) and i'm writing vernon for @studioeisa and @diamonddaze01's that's showbiz, baby collab (coming in june). i am SO excited to show you guys what i've been working on. i am also NOT unstanning seventeen, but i felt it negligent as a person with a platform (albeit a small one) to not make my voice heard.

however, after i fulfill my obligations for these two wonderful collabs i WILL be taking a break from writing for seventeen. i don't know how long my break will last, but if i had to guess you more than likely won't be seeing seventeen content from me until at least august.

i have a lot of fun plans and ideas for other groups and i thought it would be great time to shift focus, even just for a little while.

i'm still around (chronically online) and you'll probably see me reblogging seventeen (mostly lee seokmin let's be honest) from time to time. i really hope the members take some time to reevaluate the presence they want to have in the industry and take our concerns to heart. that's all i can hope for.

if you made it this far, jesus, you're a rockstar. love you all, keep on keepin on.

tl;dr: i'm disappointed in seventeen and i will be taking a break from writing them after i post my collabs.

[loves-n-kisses]

Could you do one for autistic meltdown comforts? Any MHA character you want. Love your fics so much, I sent one to my friend and they love them too, thanks for blessing us with your work

Steady as Stone - Kirishima x Overwhelmed!Reader

Hey anon! sorry this took so long, (literally 12 days omfg im so sorry) I THOUGHT I POSTED IT BUT THEN I SAW IT STILL IN MY INBOX AND I WAS LIKE "FUCK" but im posting it now! Didn't specify that it was for autism, i was trying to be inclusive to everyone lol, but amazing ask! Used this as my first time writing for kirii!! i swear this boy is so sweet me heart-

TW: Stimming, mental breakdown, slight hyperventilating

slight angst, comfort, and FLUFF FROM KIRI OHH YEEEAAHHH

A story where Eijirou's just......there for you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The UA rooftop garden was your quiet retreat until a sudden storm of quirk training nearby—blaring alarms, flashing lights, and the sharp scent of ozone—triggers a meltdown. You’re curled up behind a planter, hands clamped over your ears, rocking as the sensory overload crashes over you. Eijiro Kirishima, who’d been tending to some plants as part of a class project, spots you. His red hair hangs low, glowing softly in the fading sunlight as he approaches, his usual boisterous energy replaced with a gentle warmth.

“Hey, you okay?” he says, voice low and comforting, like a warm blanket. He crouches a few feet away, giving you plenty of space. “I’ve got something that might help you feel steadier.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out a small, braided keychain made of soft leather cords, something he made in a crafting workshop. “This is great for fidgeting. Wanna hold it?” He slides it toward you, and the smooth, pliable texture feels grounding as you run your fingers over it, easing the buzz in your hands.

Kirishima notices the flickering training lights reflecting off the garden’s metal trellis and stands briefly, using his hardened arm to adjust a nearby tarp, blocking the harsh glow. 

“There, no more annoying flashes,” he says, settling back down cross-legged, his grin soft and reassuring. He starts tapping his knee in a slow, steady rhythm, like a drumbeat you can lean into. “If you wanna try, sync your breathing with this. It’s like a little anchor.”

You grip the keychain tighter, your voice shaky but managing a small, “It’s… too much, Eiji. I can’t think straight.” He nods, his eyes warm with understanding, a faint blush dusting his cheeks at the nickname. “I hear you,” he says softly. “We’re gonna make it less ‘too much’ together, yeah? You’re tougher than any hero I know, and I’m not just saying that ‘cause I like seeing you smile.” His words carry a playful, flirty edge, but his tone stays sincere, making your heart flutter despite the chaos.

He pulls a soft, clean bandana from his bag, lightly scented with his cedarwood cologne, and sets it beside you. “This might feel nice to hold or smell—whatever works.” He keeps talking, his voice a steady hum, sharing a goofy story about the time he accidentally hardened his hand in a bowl of cookie dough. “Total disaster, but I laughed it off,” he says, chuckling. “Kinda like how we’re gonna laugh this off later, right?”

You manage a small laugh, your voice steadier now. “You’re… really here for me, huh?” His grin widens, a little shy but full of warmth. “Always, you know that. You’re kinda my favorite person to be around.” He shifts to block a sudden gust of wind carrying distant noise, his broad frame a protective shield. He starts humming a soft, upbeat tune, syncing it with his tapping, and stays close, his presence solid and comforting. “Thanks, Eiji,” you murmur after a while, your breathing calmer. “This… helps a lot.” He beams, his eyes sparkling. “Anytime. I mean it—especially for you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

note: i love him with his hair down you guys. He's such a manly man 😫🥹

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] I Love My Sworn Enemy Story Event Epilogue

Part 3

♡———♡

I had known about her previously through the owner of the bookstore, who was an acquaintance.

A beautiful woman, untainted by deceit and corruption, capable of loving others and sharing her kindness––

When I heard that she was running a detective agency alongside her bookstore, I couldn't remain calm.

Gilbert: Why?

Roderic: I... I don't know that much.

My aide, who had brought me the information, also shook his head with a bitter expression.

Roderic: She is a kind woman, so perhaps she had some thoughts about the phantom thief craze happening in our country?

Gilbert: I truly despise that kind of goodness.

Gilbert: ...There's no one in this world worth my little bunny protecting.

Gilbert: Maybe I'll just kill all the villains.

Roderic: Gilbert-sama...

Gilbert: Because being a detective is dangerous, isn't it?

Gilbert: You never know what the villains in Obsidian might do.

Roderich: ...Then, what will you do?

Gilbert: Hmm...

Gilbert: I know. Maybe I'll become a phantom thief.

Roderich: ...Huh?

Gilbert: If I do that, my little bunny will chase only me, right?

Gilbert: Don't you think it's a brilliant idea?

Thus, the great phantom thief was born, with no interest in anything other than Emma. Even when extorting gold and treasures, his heart remained unmoved.

However, as he gained fame as a phantom thief, he had more opportunities to meet Emma, the detective, and he couldn't help but enjoy their trivial chases every time.

(But... of course, these kinds of idiots still appear, don't they?)

The third-rate thief, with whom Emma cheated despite the presence of the great phantom thief, resorted to force when faced with defeat. If I hadn't secretly been watching over her, Emma would have been dead by now.

The most valuable treasure in this world was about to be taken by some unknown man right in front of him, and the surging killing intent was not something that could be easily suppressed.

Despite having a gun in his hand and deliberating how to kill him, Emma stood in his way. Her beautiful eyes pleaded, Don't kill him.

Emma: ...Please.

Gilbert: You can be kind even to someone who tried to kill you, can't you?

Gilbert: Hahaha, your heart is so pure it makes me sick.

Emma: It's not... kindness.

Emma: I'm just saying you don't need to dirty your hands for someone like this.

Emma: I believe that killing a person is synonymous with harming yourself.

Emma: I don't think you need to go that far for someone else.

Gilbert: .....

Gilbert: ...Heh, I thought you'd insist that killing people is wrong.

(I never thought she'd say "for my sake" instead of "for his.")

(She must have desperately used her head, knowing that mere platitudes wouldn't stop me.)

My little bunny is trembling. Yet, there's no sign of her fleeing from the gun's muzzle.

Her presence was hundreds of times—no, incomparably more beautiful than the treasure the third-rate thief had stolen, captivating him so completely that a surge of disgust welled up inside him.

(...Ah, that's right.)

(I should just steal her.)

(Instead of becoming a phantom thief to attract my little bunny's attention...)

(Why didn't I think of simply stealing my little bunny herself? If I made her mine, no one could lay a hand on her.)

(It's so simple it's foolish to even worry about it––)

Gilbert: Haaah...

A few months later, I quickly changed and rolled into bed.

(I couldn't get my little bunny today either.)

Emma: Don't come any closer than that!

As usual, I sent a calling card to the detective and went to pick her up. My prey, darting and fleeing like a startled rabbit, was hiding in the shadow of the alley, her guard fully up. Her defenses were clearly tighter than before; it was impossible to even approach easily.

Gilbert: I want to get closer.

Emma: No, absolutely not, don't come!

Gilbert: You know how I feel, and yet you're so cruel.

When I deliberately faked crying, Emma's face turned beet red, visible even in the dim light.

Emma: D-D-Don't say things like that!

Gilbert: Why shouldn't I say I like what I like?

Emma: ...You're teasing me, aren't you?

Gilbert: Hahaha, I'm not so free as to target you just as a joke.

Emma: ......

(I actually hate it.)

(Looking at your beautiful heart, I constantly worry that it will one day be dirtied...)

(More dislike than like... but I love you. I'm full of contradictions myself.)

Gilbert: Hey, Emma.

Emma: Nn... What is it?

When I pulled out a single black rose I had hidden behind my back, her clear eyes blinked several times.

Gilbert: This rose, it's for you.

Emma: ...I don't want it.

Gilbert: Oh, don't say that.

I hid the rose in my other hand, crushed it, and then opened my palm to show her. The rose that should have been there was gone, and Emma leaned out from the shadows.

Emma: Where did it go...?

I pointed to my pants pocket in front of a bewildered Emma. Emma quickly glanced down at her own skirt and seemed to notice a single rose tucked there.

Emma: Wow...!

(Heh, so easy.)

I crept closer while she was distracted by the rose.

Emma: Gilbert-sama could probably make a living just with these skills, even without being a phantom thief—

When I unexpectedly kissed Emma, who had looked up defenselessly, the redness on her face spread to her ear tips and neck, and she began to tremble uncontrollably.

Emma: .....................You tricked me!

Gilbert: To think a detective could be tricked so easily.

Emma: Ugh!

I hugged Emma tightly as she was about to spring away and flee. I could hear the rapid drumming of her heart from our pressed bodies, and I couldn't help but laugh.

Gilbert: I'm your sworn enemy, and yet you're so flustered.

Emma: I-I'm scared.

Gilbert: I hate lies.

Emma: ...Well...

Emma: Gilbert-sama is... a thief, a villain, an unforgivable criminal, but...

Emma: You always come when I'm in trouble or need help...

Emma: ...I know you're a kind person.

(...)

Emma: But I will never let you steal my heart!

She resisted with strong force, and this time, I finally let her go.

Emma dashed away without a backward glance. But she still held the single rose in her hand.

...

(Just thinking about it, she's so cute.)

(Ever since that kiss, she's been constantly aware of me...)

I buried my face in my pillow to calm my urge to writhe.

(Beautiful and cute...)

(...That's why I can't make her mine.)

(Because if such a cute and beautiful creature were by my side, she'd quickly become sullied.)

(I hate the thought of her becoming tainted, so I can't truly steal her.)

Even though the faint remaining conscience of a villain held him back, another emotion whispered in his ear. If she were to be tainted by someone else, he'd rather taint her himself. If she were to be killed by someone else, he'd rather kill her himself.

(Ah...)

(I wonder if she'll become mine soon.)

.

.

.

.

IkePri Masterlist

If you'd like to support my translations and read them DAYS before they are published on this Tumblr, consider joining my Patreon!

Alternatively, feel free to leave me a tip here or buy me a coffee through the "Leave a Tip" button on my navigation bar. Thank you for all your support!

[astroxrion]

Gain E-Fame( attention from large groups) Using Astrology:

Aries 11H:

If you want fame you need to stop trying to compete and start realizing you are the fire everyone is already watching burn. Put your rage into action and make your presence impossible to ignore by choosing one message and driving it into every room you enter.

Taurus 11H:

Fame will not find you until you stop hoarding your voice like it’s too sacred to share. You gain influence by becoming immovable in your style and your tone so make the world feel your worth by repeating your value until no one can question your place.

Gemini 11H:

You do not need to know everything to be known for something so stop distracting yourself with ten conversations and choose one truth you can say louder than anyone else. Your fame depends on how clearly you can echo your thoughts into collective reality.

Cancer 11H:

Stop waiting to be invited and realize the spotlight is safest when you build it with your own hands. Your self-expression is a home people want to live in but they will not stay unless you believe your emotional power deserves to be seen on a world stage.

Leo 11H:

You cannot fake power when your ego is leaking and your pride is performing so clean your crown and stop begging to be liked. Real fame comes when you let your joy speak louder than your image and express what others are too afraid to say with their chest.

Virgo 11H:

You’re not going to be remembered for being right you’re going to be known for what you made with that brilliance so stop hiding behind improvement and start broadcasting your analysis like it’s gospel because in many ways it already is.

Libra 11H:

They will not worship your silence so stop curating and start confronting what balance actually costs. Fame isn’t in the aesthetics it’s in the stand you take when everyone’s watching. Use your beauty as a weapon not a shield and speak directly into the tension.

Scorpio 11H:

You will never gain real power if you keep performing secrecy like it’s strategy. Let the world see what you survived and then show them how to transmute it. Your self-expression becomes legendary when you speak what others are terrified to even admit.

Sagittarius 11H:

You will not gain respect by chasing expansion if you refuse to dig into your core beliefs and say them without editing. Fame arrives when you become a truth-teller no matter the cost and use your voice to liberate people from the lies they live in.

Capricorn 11H:

You’re not going to rise by playing quiet so stop hiding behind strategy and speak with authority even if your voice shakes. Fame comes when your self-expression builds a system people can follow so use your words to command the future not just survive the climb.

Aquarius 11H:

You are not above being seen so stop acting like exposure is beneath you. Fame is the tool not the trap when you use it to broadcast the vision that only you can download. Say what disrupts. Share what alienates. Your difference is the revolution.

Pisces 11H:

You will not dissolve into greatness by avoiding your message so stop pretending softness is the same as silence. You gain influence when you spiritualize your suffering into art and let your vulnerability echo loud enough to wake the sleeping.

[ducksido]

If you don’t mind could you do TWST with a disabled yuu? Examples like yuu having a prosthetic leg or is hard of hearing? I think it’s an interesting concept but if you don’t want to do it that’s okay.

Riddle Rosehearts

At first, Riddle is extremely formal and almost a bit stiff around you. Not because of your disability, but because he overthinks how to address it "properly."

He learns quickly that you don’t want to be babied — and that you’ve already lived with your disability long before NRC.

If you have a prosthetic leg, he’ll initially hover when you walk long distances, offering help but eventually respecting your pace.

If you’re hard of hearing, he makes sure to always face you when speaking and uses very clear enunciation. He even quietly studies basic sign language.

After his overblot, Riddle becomes softer. He admires your ability to stand your ground, despite judgment from others—something he himself struggled with under his mother’s rule.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona doesn’t treat you any differently, which you actually appreciate.

If you have a prosthetic leg, he just shrugs. “Doesn’t slow you down in a fight. So what?”

If you’re hard of hearing, he gets a little annoyed when he forgets and talks while turned away—then mutters a quiet “sorry” and repeats himself.

After his overblot, he asks you what your magic-less strength is. He means it.

You end up having very deep, quiet conversations sprawled out under the sun, and he listens to your experiences with a look of real thoughtfulness. He sees you as strong in a way that no Spelldrive trophy could show.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is fascinated and a little panicked at first. He doesn’t want to offend you but is also deeply curious.

If you have a prosthetic, he offers to customize it magically—“For aesthetics, of course! Think—pearl inlays or water-resistant mechanisms?”

If you’re hard of hearing, he gets flustered when you miss parts of a deal pitch and ends up giving you a written contract instead.

After the overblot, he confides in you about his own insecurities. Your ability to walk into a magic-heavy world and still thrive makes him respect you deeply.

He starts checking in with you often, but always tries to play it off like he’s just “running numbers.”

Jamil Viper

Jamil notices your disability immediately but doesn't mention it until you do.

He’s very subtle about offering help — making things more accessible without making a show of it.

You once caught him adjusting the hallway rugs to make them easier for you to walk over.

If you’re hard of hearing, he’s great at non-verbal communication already. He adapts fast.

After the overblot, he starts confiding in you. He sees how you handle people who underestimate you and relates more than you know.

You’re one of the only people he doesn’t feel pressured to impress or outshine.

Vil Schoenheit

If you have a prosthetic, Vil sees you as elegance in motion. He admires how you carry yourself.

If you’re hard of hearing, he ensures all dorm meetings are clear, enunciated, and even scripted if needed.

Vil refuses to let anyone treat you like you're fragile. “Grace comes from how you rise, not what you were given.”

After his overblot, he starts bringing you to self-esteem workshops. Not as a project—but as someone whose presence inspires others.

He often subtly boosts your confidence, calling attention to how stunning or commanding your presence is.

Idia Shroud

At first, Idia hides from you entirely. But then he reads up on your disability online and starts DMing you helpful tips or resources.

If you have a prosthetic, he starts designing game mods to include similar features. You once caught him making a full cyberpunk-style design based on your prosthetic.

If you’re hard of hearing, he offers a magical communication tablet that works like a real-time text screen.

After his overblot, you’re one of the only people he can talk to. You both understand what it’s like to be seen as “different” or “othered.”

He actually builds you assistive tech "just for fun"—but really it's his way of saying he cares.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is extremely respectful. He comes from an old-fashioned place, so he asks many questions—but always with sincere interest.

If you have a prosthetic, he compares you to ancient warriors. “In Briar Valley, such courage would be sung for centuries.”

If you’re hard of hearing, he begins learning sign language with Lilia and ensures you’re always facing him when he speaks.

After his overblot, he tells you you’re a “beacon of resilience.” He says this without romanticizing your disability—he truly honors your strength.

He insists on walking with you at night, never rushing, as you speak about what it’s like to stand tall in a world that tries to shrink you.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

James and Sirius are so beautiful together. I want to ask, if you have time, of course. Would you mind writing a story about james starting to call Sirius by a different pet name every day to get Sirius' attention. But, Sirius, even if he loves it, he plays it cool. Fluff and getting together

((Note: Read below or on AO3!))

“What the hell, Potter?” comes an enraged yell from across the Great Hall. James looks up to see Sirius Black storming towards the Gryffindor table with red and gold stripes replacing the usual green and silver on his tie. He snickers.

Remus tries to hide his amusement. “James, it’s the second day of school.”

James shrugs. “Which is why I used a second-year charm to torment him today. If he’d stop to think for half a second, he could easily solve the problem with the counter-charm.” He ignores Remus and Peter’s disbelieving scoffs and smiles innocently at Black when he reaches them. “Alright there?”

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snaps, grey eyes flashing. 

“It’s a second-year spell, Black, bloody hell. Just fix it yourself if it bothers you so much.”

“You think I didn’t try?” he bites out. “I wouldn’t put myself in your presence if I could help it.” 

Remus and Peter share a glance, then raise matching eyebrows in James’ direction. James doesn’t bother to look at them.

“See, here’s the thing. I could fix it, easily, but the Gryffindor colors look so much better than the Slytherin ones. So, no, for the sake of my eyes and everyone else’s, I’d rather not.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Black sneers and turns away. 

Not quite finished messing with him, James winks. “I’d rather you fuck me, ” he says, relishing the way Black’s eyes widen slightly and lips part before he recovers and smooths out his expression again. He once again ignores his friends’ bewildered expressions.

“I wouldn’t dirty any part of my body by having it come near you,” Black retorts. 

“Think about your come near me often, do you?” James says.

“That is not—you—” he splutters, then rolls his eyes. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters and walks away. 

James watches him leave and grins. He had expected Black’s predictable comeback, but his face, wide-eyed and caught off-guard, was a much more exciting reaction.

~~~

The summer before James started Hogwarts, his parents threw a large banquet in his name. They invited all the purebloods they knew and some others, and to their surprise, most of the pureblood families showed up. The Blacks, unable to resist the lure of a night of gossip and wine and music, were one of them. 

At eleven, James was just as restless as he is at seventeen. He’d managed to escape the crowds of people gathered inside Potter Manor to climb one of the trees on his back lawn. Something about the night—just a week before he’d leave for Hogwarts—made him ache in a way he had never felt before, and he wanted to step outside to look at the stars. His mum had taught him all about constellations, and he found comfort in trying to find them.

He was just about to swing his legs over the highest branch when his hold on the trunk slipped and he fell onto the grass below.

“You should watch where you’re going,” came a disdained sniff next to him. “Or are you blind even with your glasses?” 

James looked up to see the Black heir, clad in silk robes of deep emerald, eyeing him with a bored expression. His blood boiled—it was one thing to make fun of him, but another thing to consider him boring. 

“I’m not blind, but seeing you makes me wish I was!” he answered hotly. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he was being unreasonable, that there was no need to lash out, but someone finding him when he was trying to get away from his own party made him feel unpleasantly exposed. 

“Clearly you blood traitors have no manners,” Black said. His expression remained bored and James wanted to punch him. How dare he come to James’ party just to insult him and then talk about manners?

“At least we’re not so inbred our family tree is more of a circle than anything resembling a tree,” he retorted.

“It’s to keep the good genes away from you lot,” Black said, scowling. 

James looked him up and down. “I don’t see anything I’d want to have,” he said, done with the conversation. 

In retrospect, it may have been a bad idea to make an enemy out of someone so magically inclined as Sirius Black, especially if said person was to be one of James’ peers for the next seven years. James decided to simply avoid Black for his own good.

On the train ride, he’d successfully managed to follow through with his decision. But as soon as they arrived at Hogwarts, all his efforts to avoid and ignore were quickly undone. As soon as they were sorted—James to Gryffindor, of course, and Black to Slytherin—Black started in on him as though he were making up for James having the last word in their argument in the summer just days ago. 

“I’ll never understand how the Sorting Hat managed to fit on you, Potter, with your head being as large as it is. Maybe that’s why you were sorted before it even touched you.”

“It’s really not that hard to understand, Black, but you were always a slow one.”

“Slow? More like waiting for you to catch up. It’s not fun having one-sided conversations, but you wouldn’t know the difference.”

And thus their years-long rivalry began. Initially, they exchanged nothing more than barbed insults, but soon, increasingly complex pranks followed. In their third year, Black vanished James’ clothes mid-Quidditch match, while James slipped enchanted powder into his shampoo bottle, causing his hair to become an impressive gold and red for a week. James cast a silent spell on Black’s shoes, making them squeak with every step, and in return, Black charmed James’ cloak to stick to him. 

This year, however, James has a plan to beat Black once and for all. It isn’t a particularly good one, but that has never stopped him.

~~~

The first week of classes passes without incident. James wants to feel happy about it—perhaps Black’s prudish nature couldn’t handle James’ comments a few days before—but instead, he feels rather, well, disappointed.

It comes as a welcome relief when Slughorn announces the potion they will be working on that week: Essence of Insanity. 

“Now, class,” he begins, leaning against his desk. “This is a very dangerous potion. I trust that as seventh years in a NEWT-level class, you are all well-equipped to make this without trouble. Now, can anyone tell me why it is so important to follow directions with extra care for this potion?”

Lily raises her hand. “It causes irrational decision making in the drinker, Professor, so it’s already a pretty dangerous potion if it falls into the wrong hands.” She pauses, instinctively flicking her eyes to the Slytherin half of the room. “And the main active ingredients, frog brains and beetle eyes, can cause unpleasant results if not mixed in the right way.”

Slughorn beams. “Excellent work, as usual, Miss Evans! Now, get in pairs. We’ll be working on this all week.”

Remus is already sitting near Lily, so James is left to partner with Peter. As he makes his way to the storage cabinet to get the ingredients, a shadow falls across his arm. 

“Your potion will likely be the best in the class, Potter, since you’ve mastered the essence of insanity ages ago, don’t you think?” a snide voice says next to him.

James hums, in the middle of crushing his spoonful of beetle eyes. “Well, my father is a master potioneer.”

“Sure, plus you’re a master at being insane—”

“You’re so tall,” James says, as he finishes measuring. “It’s nice.” He had turned around to return to his seat, but he hadn’t realized how fast the line had moved and how close Black now stood behind him. 

Black eyes him warily. “What?”

“I mean, I knew you were tall, since I’ve seen you around, but I hadn’t realized you were taller than me,” James continues. “You’ve probably got a couple centimeters on me. Probably makes it easier to reach these ingredients on the high shelves, doesn’t it?”

Black steps back, or as much as he can without trampling someone’s feet behind him. He looks down at himself, then back at James, mentally cataloging their height difference with a bewildered expression. “Um, I guess. So?”

“So, nothing,” James says. “Just that I find tall people more attractive. See you later.”

And then he strolls back to his cauldron where Peter awaits him, leaving Black baffled behind him. 

~~~

“Hey, Potter,” Black sneers in the corridor near the Great Hall the next morning, stopping James on his way to breakfast. “Where’s the rest of your little clique? Did they abandon you? I suppose they were bound to figure out how boring you are after seven years in your presence.”

James shrugs, the jab not bothering him nearly as much as it did seven years ago. “Remus and Peter woke up before me. And anyway, I’m glad I caught you without them around—they wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if they heard me tell you that green is your color.”

Black raises an eyebrow. James idly wishes he could make the same expression with as much ease. “The same green that you claimed was an atrocity to everyone’s eyes?” 

James nods. “Yeah. Somehow you make it work. I never noticed before, but your eyes are sort of a cooler shade of gray. The green brings out the color. You look good.”

“Er—”

“I’m not sure if the green is what brings your eyes out more, or if it’s your ridiculous cow eyelashes, or your hair,” James says, leaning a little closer to scrutinize him. 

Black takes an alarmed step back. “M-my what eyelashes?”

“Cow eyelashes,” James repeats, gesturing at them. “They’re all long and thick. Mine aren’t half as pretty, but I guess my glasses cover most of them anyway. Hey, is your hair wavy? I always thought it was straight.”

Black reaches up and touches his hair uncertainly, looking lost about how to deal with James’ onslaught of compliments. “Uh, no, it’s always been wavy.”

“I bet your parents aren’t a fan of you growing it out,” James remarks, wishing he could take the words back when he sees Black’s jaw clench. 

Unexpectedly, Black barks out a laugh, though his posture remains stiff. “That’s the whole point.”

James glances up, surprised. “Seriously? I’d have thought you would do anything to keep them happy.”

Black’s eyes darken. “Well, that just goes to show that you know nothing,” he says icily, sweeping past James into the Great Hall. James exhales heavily, regretting his words, before following him to breakfast.

~~~

Several hours later, James finds himself hunched over his and Peter’s cauldron of Essence of Insanity at the table in front of Black. He’s minding his own business, already feeling guilty about this morning’s encounter.

“Hey, Potter.” When James turns his head, Black is pointing at the jar of frog brains on the racks next to their desk, “If it’s not too much trouble for you to help a spineless, evil Slytherin.”

James’ lips tighten. “I didn’t mean—never mind,” he says, passing him the jar. He looks over at Black’s potion. “Hey—what the heck, yours looks amazing! What did you do?”

“I read,” Black snaps, voice sharp. “Which you clearly can’t do, even with an extra set of eyes.”

“I—”

“But it’s not unlike what I’d expect from you. It makes sense that a reckless Gryffindor such as yourself wouldn’t be able to read the room or, apparently, textbooks.”

James falls silent. “I’m sorry about this morning,” he says quietly. Then, gathering his courage, he says, “My dad always wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but I’ve never been the best at potions. He doesn’t say anything, but I know he still wishes I did better. Maybe we could work together for the next potions project since you’re really good at it? You could show me all the ways you’re better than I am at following instructions.”

Black doesn’t say anything, but his knuckles whiten where he’s gripping the jar. “Absolutely not.”

“Okay. Whatever you want.” He feels bad about earlier and chooses not to push Black any further. 

Black suddenly stands up and rounds on James. He digs the tip of his wand against James’ collarbone, and James takes a step back. His back collides with his desk, leaving Black leaning over him. Peter looks up, startled.

“Erm, Black?” James asks, his voice tentative. He reaches up and catches Black’s wrist, momentarily distracted by the contrast between the slenderness of the bone and the solid strength in the rest of his arm. The rest spills out in a rush. “You’ve got really nice arms, and normally I wouldn’t mind you pressing against me like this, but we’re in class and this definitely isn’t normal, at least for you. What exactly are you doing?"

“What am I doing?” Black repeats, incredulous. “The better question is, what the fuck are you doing?” 

“Nothing?” James replies. “And let go of me—I know you’re dying to get your hands on me, but Slughorn will notice.”

“This is what I’m talking about!” Black nearly yells. “Why the bloody hell are you complimenting all the damn time? You’re supposed to be annoying me, not talking about my fucking hair and my height and my hands! When I pinned you down, you were supposed to hex me or punch me or something, not act as if we—as if we were—”

“What, dating? Fucking? In love? All of the above?” James says mildly. “But I am annoying you, if this situation is anything to go by.” Black groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“Do you want me to hex you?” James asks after a beat, doubtful. “I mean, while it’s fun to rile you up like this, I’d be happy to punch you if you really wanted.” 

“That is not what I—no. ” Black rubs his eyes. “Fuck. You know what? Pettigrew, we’re switching partners for the next potion. I need to teach this one a thing or two about following the rules.”

“There aren’t any rules about how to antagonize you,” James begins. 

“Yes, there bloody well are!” Black snaps, cutting him off. “Like not flirting, for starters! Or complimenting my eyes! Especially when we’ve hated each other since forever!”

Peter speaks up, voice meek, like he doesn’t know whether to be amused or frightened. “Erm, is this supposed to be some kind of foreplay for you guys?”

Black jerks back. James gapes between Black and Peter, heat rising to his face. 

“No,” James rushes to say. “No, we’re not—it’s just a joke. I was trying to see how far I can go to rile him up.”

“Right,” Black scoffs. “You think I’m so stupid I wouldn’t catch on? Contrary to what you may believe, I’m not an idiot. I can think and do things for myself.”

He holds James’ gaze when he says that, and James flushes. Then the moment passes, leaving James with the nagging sense that he’s missed something significant.

~~~

James feels like an arse through the rest of his classes. He can’t unsee the way Black’s expression had closed off at the mention of his parents, the way he had flinched. Remus and Peter aren’t surprised when, all throughout dinner, James keeps looking over to the Slytherin table. James knows he’s like a mother hen to all the people he cares about. Black is hardly someone he can tolerate, much less care about, but even he isn’t ignorant of the Black family’s unorthodox principles of keeping their children in check. He feels terrible about bringing up all that baggage, especially when Black had actually been decent, as far as Slytherins can go. 

He had been laughing. In James’presence. 

Despite what had happened immediately after, James couldn’t help but remember the way his eyes had sparkled the instant before he had laughed, the way his shoulders had loosened with mirth. At that moment, when they had bonded for a brief moment over a mutual dislike for the Black parents, he hadn’t seemed like the irritating menace he had been throughout their Hogwarts years. He had just been a boy, bitter about the control his parents had over his life, and while James hadn’t understood, per se, he could still relate to doing things for the sake of rebelling against his parents. 

And then James had to muck it up. 

He feels responsible for Black’s bad mood as he watches him snap at his brother and friends over at the Slytherin table and later in the halls after dinner. As he makes his way to the Gryffindor tower to get ready for his night’s patrols, he quickly grabs the Marauder’s map before thinking better of it. It would be good to apologize to Black sooner rather than later, he thinks, and ignores the small voice in his head that Black wouldn’t appreciate an apology at all.

He finishes off his assigned rounds as fast as he can, then pulls out the map, his footsteps echoing in the quiet halls. The glow of his wand illuminates his face as he scans the parchment for the dot labeled “Sirius Black.” Finally, he spots it, hovering near one of the abandoned corridors on the seventh floor near the Astronomy Tower. 

“What’s he doing there?” James mutters to himself. A strange unease settles in his stomach. He folds the map and tucks it into his pocket, quickening his pace.

The corridor is dimly lit, the torches on the walls flickering feebly. James slows as he approaches, hearing the faint clinking of glass. Rounding the corner, he spots Black leaning against the wall, a bottle of Firewhisky in hand. His posture is loose, almost careless, but there’s a tension in the line of his shoulders that betrays his mood. His robes hang off his shoulders, the top buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned, and stray hairs from his bun frame his face. James swallows, trying to stop the way his heart quickens at the sight of the faint golden light spilling across Black’s disarrayed state. 

“Black?” James calls out cautiously. He tucks the map into his pocket. 

Black looks up, startled, and his eyes narrow. “Head Boy,” he says coolly, tilting the bottle in a mock salute. “What brings you here? Here to give me detention for being out after curfew? Or say something about my butt”

James steps closer, hands shoved into his pockets. “Thought I’d find you,” he says. “I wanted to apologize. But I can compliment your butt, too, if you’d like. It’s unfairly distracting.”

Black looks skeptical, but there’s an amused quirk at the corner of his mouth. “It’s my second-best asset,” he says. “And apologize for what? Letting your mouth run away with you earlier? Don’t bother. It’s not like it’s the first time.”

James winces but presses on. “Yeah, for that. Look, I shouldn’t have brought up your parents. It was out of line.” Then he pauses. “What’s your best asset?”

Black snorts, taking a swig from the bottle. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he murmurs. “Anyway, you’re not wrong about them. They’re bloody nightmares, both of them. But it’s not exactly dinner conversation, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” James admits. “Still, I—” He hesitates, searching for the right words. “I know I don’t understand what it’s like, but… I’ve seen enough to know it’s not easy.”

For a moment, Black just looks at him, the guarded expression on his face cracking ever so slightly. Then he slumps down to sit on the cold stone floor, motioning vaguely for James to join him.

“So you’ve come to play Mind Healer, have you?” he asks, his tone laced with sarcasm. His head tips back to lean against the stone walls, and James turns his gaze forcibly away from the long line of his neck, the sharp curve of his Adam’s apple.

Merlin, what was happening to him? 

He sits beside him, keeping a small distance. “Not exactly,” he says. “But if you feel like talking, I’ll listen.”

Black takes another swig and then sets the bottle down between them. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” James says with a faint smile.

Silence falls between them, stretching long enough that James wonders if he should leave. But then Black speaks, his voice quieter than James has ever heard it.

“They hate me,” he murmurs, staring at the far wall. “Always have. I’m not what they wanted. Not obedient enough, not ambitious enough, not…dark enough. Regulus? He’s the perfect son. Does everything they ask without question. Me? I’m the family disappointment.”

James listens, the weight of Black’s words settling heavily in his chest. “That’s not on you,” he says firmly. “That’s on them. Parents are supposed to, you know, love their kids for who they are, not try to mold them into something they’re not.”

Black lets out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s not how the Blacks operate. Loyalty to the family above all else. Toujours pur. It doesn’t matter if it breaks you in the process.”

James hesitates, then takes a long pull of Firewhisky. Gathering his courage, he speaks. “My parents—they’re not like that. They’re amazing, honestly. But even then, I’ve felt it sometimes, the pressure to be the perfect son. They’ve wanted a child for years, so I feel like I have to, I don’t know, live up to expectations. It’s nothing like what you’ve been through, but I get it. A little, at least.”

Black takes the bottle from him. “I thought you were the perfect golden boy.” He takes a shuddering breath, then closes his eyes. “When I was younger I actually used to be jealous of how easily you made friends and how happy you always seemed.”

“I am happy,” James says. “And I’m grateful for my friends. But it’s hard to be the ‘perfect golden boy’ all the time. Sometimes I just want to hex someone or scream bloody murder, but I have to keep up the act for others’ sakes. It’s tough. I’m always looking out for others, but not all of them would even think to look out for me. Not that I’d ever ask.” 

Black holds his gaze, something in James’ expression making his eyes soften. “I guess we’re not as different as I thought,” he says, almost grudgingly. He pauses, but then steeling himself, he continues.

“I can’t ask anyone for help either,” he says hesitantly, “I don’t—I’d be in a worse position if they figure out I’ve been speaking about family matters to outside people. And I can’t imagine Regulus in my place. He’s quiet, sure, and he never stands up to them, but at least he’s there. When everything goes to hell, he’s the only one who understands.”

James glances at him, surprised. “Really? I didn’t think you two were close.”

Black’s lips twitch into a faint smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “He’s my little brother. I’d do anything to protect him. And he’s the only one who looks out for me when there’s no one else. We both hate them, our parents. He just better at keeping his head down. It’s like he’s learned to survive by staying silent. I’m not sure if that makes him smart or just cowardly, but, well, it’s Reg. That’s just how he is.”

James nods slowly, understanding dawning on him. “Sounds like he cares about you in his own way.”

“He does,” Black says softly. “And I care about him. I just wish he didn’t have to carry all of this, you know? Wish neither of us did.”

“Maybe you don’t have to,” James offers. “Not alone, anyway.”

Black glances at him, something unreadable in his expression. Then, with a sigh, he inclines his head. “Maybe, Potter.”

“James.”

“What?”

“James,” he repeats. “Call me James. I’ll call you Sirius, if that’s okay?”

Black pauses, considering, then nods. “Okay, uh—James.”

They sit in silence for a while, the Firewhisky forgotten between them. And for the first time, James sees Sirius Black not as a Slytherin or an enemy, but as a boy who’s just as lost and hurt as anyone else. And he realizes that maybe, just maybe, they could be something more than rivals.

~~~

The next morning, History of Magic is as dull as ever. James strolls into the classroom, his usual confident swagger intact, but instead of heading to his seat beside Remus and Peter, he veers off. He makes a beeline for Sirius, who’s slumped in his chair at the far end of the room, looking decidedly worse for wear.

Remus and Peter exchange glances as James drops into the seat next to Sirius without preamble.

“What are you doing?” Sirius mutters, his voice low and gravelly, as though he’s nursing a hangover—which, James realizes with some satisfaction, he probably is.

“Spying on you, obviously,” James quips with a grin, loud enough for Remus and Peter to hear. “Can’t let a Slytherin out of my sight.”

Peter chuckles, apparently buying the excuse, but Remus just raises an eyebrow, his sharp gaze cutting straight through James’ bravado.

Sirius rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest further. He’s too distracted, his usual immaculate appearance slightly ruffled. His hair is less polished than usual, and while he still looks more put-together than James on any given day, there’s a weariness in his eyes that makes James pause.

“You look like hell,” James whispers, leaning closer.

Sirius glares at him. “Thanks for the observation, Potter. Very helpful. What happened to my beautiful eyes and hair?”

“They drowned in last night’s Firewhisky,” James says, fishing a small vial out of his pocket. He slides it across the desk. “Sober up potion. You’re welcome.”

Sirius hesitates, then snatches the vial and downs it in one gulp. He grimaces at the taste but says nothing, his posture straightening slightly as the potion takes effect.

“Don’t mention it,” James says, smirking. Cheekily, he adds, “Now you look like your usual hot self.” Sirius rolls his eyes again, but he looks pleased.

The two of them spend the first half of the lesson ignoring Professor Binns’ droning voice entirely. Instead, they pass notes back and forth, the parchment quickly filling with a mix of sarcastic commentary and idle chatter.

At one point, James mentions how he practices Quidditch during any free time he can find, juggling it with his Head Boy duties and NEWT preparations.

Sirius scribbles back, his handwriting perfectly even and neat. Must be nice. Slytherins aren’t usually welcome on the pitch unless it’s for reserved practice hours or games.

James reads the note, his jaw tightening. He scribbles furiously in response. That’s bollocks. The pitch should be for everyone. You should come flying with me sometime.

Sirius glances at the note, his expression unreadable. Then, to hide whatever emotion flickers across his face, he writes back, I’m busy. There’s a pause before he jots down, But maybe. Later this week.

James beams at the reply, his mood lifting instantly. Sirius glances at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement at James’ obvious delight.

“What’s got you so chipper?” Sirius mutters, though there’s no real bite in his tone.

“Oh, nothing,” James whispers back, still grinning. “Just thinking about how much I’m going to show you up on the pitch.”

“In your dreams, Potter,” Sirius retorts, but there’s a faint smirk tugging at his lips now.

“Oh, I do much more than that with you in my dreams,” James says with a wink. Sirius looks away, flushing.

When the lesson finally ends, James rejoins Remus and Peter as they head out of the classroom. Sirius takes a different direction, his gait more composed than it had been earlier.

“Alright,” Remus says as soon as Sirius is out of earshot. “What the fuck was that about?”

James shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Just keeping an eye on him. You know, for strategic purposes.”

Remus gives him a long, unimpressed look. Peter, however, nods earnestly. “Makes sense. Got to keep tabs on the competition.”

James hides a grin as they walk down the corridor, already imagining how satisfying it’ll be to have a proper challenge on the pitch.

~~~

The Quidditch pitch is quiet the night James and Sirius go to play, the lamplight casting shadows on the grass, illuminating the glinting frost, and reflecting the starlight that spills across the grounds. James hovers high above the pitch, his broom swaying gently beneath him as he watches Sirius adjust the straps on his gloves. 

“You ready to get your arse handed to you, Black?” James calls, his grin audible even through the distance.

Sirius mounts his broom, looking up with a smirk that could cut glass. “You fucking wish, Potter. Try to keep up.”

James’ laugh echoes as Sirius kicks off from the ground, soaring up to meet him. The wind tugs at their robes, the chill biting at their faces, but neither pays it any mind. The exhilaration of flying drowns out the cold.

“First to five goals wins,” James announces, flicking his wand to summon a Quaffle from the nearby trunk. It zips into the air, spiraling between them as if eager for the match to begin.

Sirius snatches it mid-flight, spinning his broom with a graceful twist that makes something warm spool inside James’ belly. “That’s one for me already,” Sirius taunts, his voice ringing with playful arrogance.

“Oh, it’s on,” James growls, diving after him.

The game is fast and brutal. Sirius weaves through the air with an agility that James can’t help but admire, his broom a blur as he dodges and ducks, keeping the Quaffle tantalizingly out of reach. But James is relentless, his competitive streak burning as brightly as the lanterns lining the pitch.

They clash near the goalposts, James’ broom edging perilously close to Sirius’. Sirius laughs, sharp and wild, as he swerves just in time to avoid a collision. He tosses the Quaffle toward the hoop with a flick of his wrist, but James intercepts it with a well-timed dive.

“Not so fast, Black,” James crows, tucking the Quaffle under his arm and rocketing toward the opposite goal.

Sirius chases him, the sound of his broom slicing through the air close behind. “That’s all you’ve got?” he calls, though his breath comes heavier now.

“Just warming up,” James shoots back, grinning as he swerves and hurls the Quaffle through the hoop.

They trade goals back and forth. Sirius’ form is impeccable; his turns are sharp, his throws precise. But James has the advantage of instinct, his ability to anticipate Sirius’ moves honed through years of playing against the best. By the time the score is tied at four each, both are panting, their breaths misting in the frigid air.

“Next goal wins,” James says, his voice tinged with exhilaration and exhaustion.

Sirius’ eyes glint with determination. “You’re going down, Potter.”

The Quaffle hovers between them, pulsing slightly as if sensing the tension. They stare each other down, brooms poised, before launching forward simultaneously. The Quaffle shoots upward, and they collide mid-air in their scramble to grab it. Sirius’ shoulder slams into James, but James holds firm, his hand closing around the ball.

“Not today!” James yells, pulling into a steep dive. Sirius is right on his tail, the distance between their brooms almost negligible. The goalposts loom ahead, but Sirius isn’t about to let him have the victory so easily.

With a final burst of speed, Sirius lunges, his fingertips grazing the Quaffle. It slips from James’ grasp, spiraling toward the ground. Both dive after it, the world a blur as they race for the ball. At the last second, Sirius reaches out, snatching the Quaffle and rolling to the side to avoid a crash.

He straightens, laughing triumphantly as he tosses the Quaffle through the hoop. “And that’s how it’s done,” he declares, his grin wide and smug.

James lands beside him, shaking his head but smiling despite himself. “You got lucky.”

Sirius’ laugh is softer this time. “Admit it, Potter. I’m the better player.”

“Never,” James replies, though there is no venom in his tone. He holds out a hand. “Good game.”

Sirius shakes it, his grip firm. “Yeah. It was.”

They stand there for a moment, the rivalry between them softened by the shared exhilaration of the match. The frost-covered pitch stretches around them, silent and still, as the adrenaline begins to fade. James looks over at Sirius, his hair a windswept mess, his cheeks flushed from exertion, and feels a warmth that has nothing to do with the exercise.

“Want to go somewhere?” he asks impulsively, his voice light but his gaze tentative. 

Sirius frowns. “Somewhere else? It’s nearly curfew, and I thought Head Boys were supposed to enforce rules, not break them.”

James’ eyes sparkle with mischief. “What’s the point of being Head Boy if I can’t use my power to bend the rules every now and then?”

Sirius’ lips quirk. “Are you saying you’re a bad influence, Potter?”

“Oh, the worst,” James replies, winking. He notices with satisfaction the faint flush creeping up Sirius’ cheeks, though he tells himself it’s probably just the cold. Probably.

Sirius huffs but falls into step beside him. “Alright, then. Lead the way, troublemaker.”

James leads him through the castle, weaving through shadowed corridors until they reach the entrance to a secret passageway behind a statue of a one-eyed witch. Sirius’ eyebrows rise as James mutters the password and reveals the hidden staircase.

“Well, would you look at that,” Sirius says, breathing a laugh. “A secret passage? How in the name of Salazar did you find this?”

“It wouldn’t be a secret passageway if everyone knew where to find them all,” James teases. 

“There’s more? ” Sirius exclaims. 

“Plenty,” James says smugly. “I’d love to show you more sometime.”

Sirius gives him a sidelong glance, but a faint smile tugs at his lips. “You’re full of surprises.”

They emerge in Hogsmeade, the village eerily quiet and coated in frost. Honeydukes is dark, but James has a way in, and soon they’re rummaging through shelves of sweets. Sirius surprises James by grabbing handfuls of sugar quills and chocolate frogs, stuffing them into his pockets with an almost childlike enthusiasm.

“You’re like a kid,” James teases, laughing as Sirius drops a handful of gold onto the counter.

“Shut it, Potter,” Sirius says through a mouthful of candy, but he’s smiling. “Everyone has their vices.” 

As they make their way back to Hogwarts, Sirius’ pace slows. “Potter—James,” he says. “Thank you for tonight. I had fun.”

James smiles. “Me too.” 

Sirius watches him carefully, then closes the distance between them to kiss him softly. 

James jerks back, staring at him in shock. “What—what are you doing?”

Sirius’ face colors. “Is this not what you wanted?” 

“No!” The word comes out before James can process the question. “Wait, what? No—I mean—”

Sirius laughs humorlessly and takes a step back. “Fuck off, Potter.” His glare is cold, mask slipping back onto his face to hide his emotions, but James can see real hurt behind his eyes. James opens his mouth to try and explain when Sirius talks over him. “Was it all for revenge?” he asks, waving a hand between them. “Try to out the Black heir as gay? See what it would take to get into my pants?”  His voice gets smaller as he speaks. “Well, congratulations, Head Boy, you’ve humiliated me enough.”

“Of course not!” James manages to get out. His heart is racing. “Of course that wasn’t what I was trying to do!”

“Then what were you trying to do?” Sirius snaps, glaring. “‘Your robes make your arse look fantastic, Black, and I really like your eyes,’” he mocks. His voice cracks as he continues, “‘You don’t need to be so alone anymore because you have me.’ Everyone thinks you’re the saint of Gryffindor, but you’re a right arsehole, you know that? You make me sick.” 

“I meant all of that!” James exclaims.

 Sirius spins around, his eyes blazing with something James can’t quite decipher—anger, fear, hope, maybe all three. “You’re a bloody fucking liar,” he says. “Because you just said you didn’t.”

“I do,” James insists, his hands shaking slightly as he gestures between them. “I’m sorry. You took me by surprise and I blurted it out without thinking. Of course I like you. As a friend, obviously, but I also like you as more than that. I would’ve run away screaming if I didn’t.”

Sirius exhales sharply, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. For a moment, neither of them speaks. The silence stretches, filled only with the sound of their breaths mingling in the cold night air. Sirius looks at James, really looks at him, as if trying to find the catch, the hidden joke, the reason not to believe him. But all he sees is honesty, open and raw.

“I hate this,” Sirius finally says, though his voice lacks the venom it usually carries. “I hate that you make me feel like this.”

James steps even closer, close enough that their shoulders nearly touch. “And how’s that?”

Sirius hesitates, his jaw tightening. Then, in a voice so soft it’s almost lost to the wind, he says, “Like I matter.”

The admission hangs between them, heavy and fragile. James feels his chest tighten, the weight of Sirius’ words almost unbearable in their sincerity. Without thinking, he reaches out, his fingers brushing against Sirius’. “You do,” he murmurs. “You matter, Sirius. So, so much.”

Sirius looks down at their hands, then up at James, his expression conflicted. “You’re going to regret this,” he says, but there’s no malice in his tone—just a quiet, lingering doubt.

James smiles, lopsided and genuine. “Not a chance.” Then cheekily, he adds, “I wasn’t able to enjoy the last experience as much as I should have, so may I kiss you again?”

“Are you saying you’re a better kisser than I am?”

“Your words, not mine,” James murmurs, then moves, closing the gap between them in one swift motion. His lips crash against Sirius, fierce and desperate, as if trying to convey all the things he can’t put into words. Sirius responds just as eagerly, his hands coming up to cup James’ face, grounding them both in the intensity of the moment.

When they finally pull apart, both are breathless, their foreheads pressed together. Sirius’ eyes are dark, but there’s a softness in them now that James hasn’t seen before.

“You’re insufferable,” Sirius mutters, though there’s no heat behind it.

James laughs, his thumb brushing lightly against Sirius’ cheek. “And you’re impossible. Guess we make a good pair, huh?”

Sirius huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “We’ll see.”

But the way his lips pull into the barest hint of a smile feels like a promise James is determined to keep.

~~~

By the next morning, nothing about Sirius and James has outwardly changed. At breakfast, they sit at their respective tables, Sirius laughing at something Regulus mutters under his breath while James launches a piece of toast at Peter for eating the last sausage.

But in the moments in between, when no one else is looking, James catches Sirius’ eye from across the Hall. It’s only for a second, but the corner of Sirius’ mouth quirks up in a small, knowing smile that makes James’ heart stutter in a way he’ll never admit.

They’re careful, of course. Sirius keeps his distance in public, maintaining his sharp tongue and impenetrable facade among his housemates. James plays the part of the Head Boy perfectly, breaking up scuffles and charming professors with his easy grin. Yet, when the corridors are empty or the nights grow still with promise, they find each other.

It’s during one of those moments, tucked into the shadows of the Astronomy Tower, that Sirius presses James against the cold stone wall. James’ hands slide up Sirius’ back, pulling him closer, and for a while, they forget the world outside.

“This is mad,” Sirius whispers when they finally break apart, his forehead resting against James’. He looks at James with a mix of frustration and something softer, something he can’t quite put into words. “If anyone finds out—”

“No one will,” James cuts in, his voice low but sure. His hands rest on Sirius’ waist, steadying him. “And even if they did, I wouldn’t care.”

Sirius snorts, though there’s no real humor in it. “You’re Gryffindor’s golden boy, Potter. You can’t afford to be seen sneaking around with me.”

James tilts his head, his grin softening into something almost tender. “Maybe I don’t care about what they’d think. Maybe I care more about this.”

For a moment, Sirius doesn’t reply. He just looks at James, his expression unreadable. Then, without another word, he leans in again, his lips brushing against James with a deliberate slowness that sends a shiver down his spine.

~~~

One evening, they meet in an unused classroom near the dungeons. Sirius is leaning against a desk, his arms crossed, watching the door with a practiced indifference that vanishes the moment James slips inside.

“You’re late,” Sirius says, but his tone lacks its usual bite.

“Got held up with patrols,” James replies, shutting the door quietly behind him. He grins as he steps closer, his hands finding their way to Sirius’ hips. “Miss me?”

Sirius rolls his eyes, but there’s a faint pink tinge on his cheeks. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

James leans in, his lips brushing against Sirius’ ear. “Too late.”

~~~

It isn’t always easy. There are days when Sirius withdraws, the weight of everything—his family, the expectations, the constant mask he has to wear—bearing down on him. Those are the days James finds him in the empty classroom on the third floor, sitting on the windowsill and staring out at the grounds.

“Sickle for your thoughts?” James asks one afternoon, his voice gentle as he approaches.

Sirius doesn’t look at him. “You don’t have enough sickles, Potter.”

James doesn’t push. Instead, he sits beside Sirius, their shoulders brushing as they watch the sun dip below the horizon. After a while, Sirius speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it? Hiding like this.”

James turns to him, his eyes soft. “Maybe. But if it means I get to have this—to have you—I don’t mind.”

For a moment, Sirius says nothing. Then he reaches out, his fingers brushing against James’. It’s small, almost imperceptible, but it’s enough.

It’s always enough.

[dawnoftime22]

hello, i have a request for Taylor Swift 😊

reader is upset cause they feel betrayed by their close friends (maybe they weren't invited to a party or something) and since Taylor have been there before she comforts the reader and they spend the day together playing games or something so the reader forgets about it?

also can Taylor sing to comfort Reader? 🥺 i love it when she sings for us hehe

safe & sound.

| T.S

Warnings: reader overthinking, a lot! please be warned and take care of yourself<3 R's friends betraying

Summary: When you find out the way you're suddenly treated by the people you're closest with, Taylor spends her time trying to comfort you in the ways she knows how to.

Word Count: 6.1k

Category: fluff

A/N: I feel like my writing is only growing in word count...I swear thats not me pushing, I just try to finish the story!! I reaally really hope you enjoy this, and it brings you all the comfort you need<3

| Started on 19/05/2025, 2:28 PM |

| Finished on 30/05/2025, 6:53 AM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

Request Guidelines

“Look at the stars. Look how they shine for you...and all the things that you do.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

You were in the living room when you found out.

The space was quiet, save from the way the sink had water running down, and clinks were coming along beside it as Taylor washed the dishes. The time was 3:24 PM. You just had lunch together, spent rightfully with comfort, and love.

Now, you were sitting on the couch, legs up, touching your clothed stomach, and you were staring down at the screen of your phone. Upon it, you saw an instagram post from one of your friends right at the homescreen.

It was great. It was peaceful. You were having such a good day...until the photos and videos hit you like a trainwreck crashing into the sunshine. It made everything falter with its lightness.

Your lips tightened as they pressed together. You shouldn't have, but you did. It almost seemed animated as you went through the instagram stories, read the comments on the posts, and you saw all the smiles, and the laughter. It was like watching a movie far away from your life

You heard the way they had fun with their mini games and conversations without any care in the world. Like none of it mattered. Sitting casually. Like you didn't matter.

Its not like you felt like the world spun around the idea of you of course, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt. They had gone forth without a heads up, and that felt like the worst kind of a quiet betrayal. There was a possibility that they thought of how you seemed to leave nearly each time, how overwhelmed you were, but something about it brought your sense of mind a certain pain.

Then you started to wonder if they had even thought about you at all, or if they completely forgot. And in some way, that felt...acceptable. Just acceptable. Not better, not worse, but something you could take.

The thoughts and questions made you reel back and forth, as if you were pacing the room without moving, and you swallowed.

Slowly, you clicked the power button at the side of your phone, and the screen faded to nothing as you set it down.

It's not like the emotional feelings were walking all over you, or that it felt like waves crashing over. Being pricked by a cactus would be something to describe it, perhaps. Yet, still, you wrapped your arms around your legs, and rested your chin against your knees. The carpet seemed like the next interesting thing in the room.

It was just a party. A stupid party. It shouldn't bite you this much, but for some reason it did—because in a way, it confirmed your biggest fear in a hard, rough truth;...that no one really wanted you at all. Your presence, your quietness, everything about you. Whatever point of evidencr it was of yourself that made people pull away. It was a reason to hold up whenever you found it.

Your jaw tightened, but it was your teeth pressing together, not clenching. It was in frustration that was either to yourself, or the people you were close with. You weren't sure. It's not like they were at fault. At all. Right? Just...your own problems to deal with that they don't want.

It wasn't long until the couch had the smallest little dip in it. Beside you, Taylor had come to sit with a sweet looking Meredith, having brought her along in her hands for the kitty to curl up in her lap.

She looks at you, seeing the way that you had your legs tucked in close to yourself, protectively, within the circulation of your arms. You had your eyes on the floor, clearly deep in the depths of your mind. It had been like that since she made her decision to go to you.

Until you turned your head to look at her to catch her sight, she would have been smiling, if not for the frown that seemed to shape on your lips.

And that only made you feel like hiding more; that her raising of a joy had faltered, all in simply seeing the slightest of oddities in your behaviour, because she knew you well enough to see everything you hadn't even spoken about. You weren't sure what to feel about it when you were already knee deep into guilt. There was no telling if it's already swallowed you whole or still waiting either.

But to Taylor, the concern came climbing up on her heart, knowing all too well that the many times you've spaced out before was in reason to getting caught up in a web of worries.

She took a moment to just see you, search your eyes for anything that she could find and recognize, but it wasn't long until she set Meredith down gently beside you both instead. Her body moved closer to you in a careful shift.

"...Are you okay?" she asks. For a second, you cracked, just a little. It was like she breathed on glass that was vulnerable to break from anything, even when she didn't mean any harm.

You tried resisting it, but your frown only got deeper, more emotional, and you leaned in more into her instantly.

She had her arms wrapped around you without another second to spare, bringing you closer to her chest. You could hear the soothing shushing that came from her lips as she does.

Nothing urged you to talk about it. There wasn't any willing want in your heart either. Everything had seemed to just overwhelm you, all at once like that giant wave going down, and it wasn't good. It wasn't relief, it wasn't realization, just something that could knock you down and never let you get back up.

Her warm embrace felt safe, similar in hand to a gentle song surrounding you in its comfort. "What's wrong, baby?" she asked in softness.

You looked into her eyes. "I...it's...just..." you were about to start, but then gave out to the distress in your mind instead of continuing. "It's nothing," the words slipped out your mouth, uttered like a truth, but draped over with a white lie.

Taylor didn't take that. She didn't want to, and she certainly wouldn't want you to get away with shutting down. "Hey..."

She keeps her gentle tone even as she continued. "Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right? No judgement...no expectations." Her hand brushed against your back in a small comforting way, giving that bit of affection that always seemed to make your nerves ease, even if it was just a little.

You bit your lip deeply after a short sigh out. With a gentle pull on the pinkish skin, you tasted copper against your tongue, although there was no red. Taylor tilted her head just enough to see you.

When she sees the smallest tatter on the skin, a soft breath escapes her, and she reaches up carefully to brush her thumb over your lip so your instincts let it go.

Taylor was patient. You knew it. She always was. But you felt like no words could escape your mouth—like your brain had gotten that overload to where it would just shut down, and none of it was for you to blame because you did want to speak. So, you only frowned, looking to her shoulder in guilt.

You stayed there in decision for just a moment, but it didn't take long for you to grab your phone again.

It unlocked once the password was put in, and you held it out for her take. It was still in the same app as you left it earlier.

She looked at you, then your phone, only getting more concerned, but her hand carefully took it from your hold to see what it was. As soon as her eyes land on the screen, she realized that it was a post from one of your friends.

"Probably having fun," you mumbled out beside her, having gone to curl up and hug your legs once more. She scrolls down further, seeing the caption and the date that it was posted on, which was just an hour or two ago.

She blinked, trying to process it, but it didn't take her long. Her expressions soon soften, and she let her shoulders lower when she's picked all the pieces of the unspoken puzzle. "...Oh...baby," she breathed out, looking at you again.

Her arms brought you closer again, giving you warmth as she put the phone back down. Meredith was purring beside you both, despite the emotional rise.

"Did they...ever...tell you? Or ask?" Taylor looked down at you, and you didn't capture her eyes, but she definitely saw the small little sadness in your pupils, both because of whats happened, and the branches of overthinking going on in your mind.

You shook your head just a little, which causes a small quietness to cover over the both of you.

She only gazed at you with doubled care, if possible, and she moved to get more comfortable before opening her arms up for you.

"Come here..." she urged gently. You hesitated, but you couldn't really resist, going closer to feel the warmth that she provided, all as you hid into her chest.

"Just stay for a while."

She breathed slowly, lowering herself more to rest herself against your hair.

It was just that. Taylor holding you for a quiet moment, giving a pause and break from all the emotional things going on. It felt like she could take away all your problems by just...being her. Being with you.

You closed your eyes at the rush of the warm aid to your feelings, and you had to tighten your embrace just a little more in reponse.

"...It's okay," she whispered. Her lips brushed just ever so slightly at your ear as she glides up for a soft kiss on the side of your head.

"...I know, it's difficult, seeing that. And it's not something you can just...brush away and forget." You let her words drift in your mind, processing, but you couldn't really figure out how to say anything back.

You didn't need to, anyway. The way she held you was enough for words to be far from the true comfort touch could give.

A pause goes by. She leans back, then put her finger right below your chin, wanting you to look up at her. "But you should know...you didn't do anything to make them pull back. If you didn't get invited, thats on them, not you."

You sighed out softly, eyes traveling down. "I don't know...I just...maybe they thought I get overwhelmed way too many times, so they just thought...not telling me would make it less complicated, or...or worse, they forgot."

She searched your face, trying to see everything held back under the surface. "Baby...it was a little mean of them for not telling you. And if they did think about it...some kind of acknowledgement would have been better too. Gentle acknowledgement."

"Like, anyone with half the logic I have, would realize that acting casual and going quiet is bad, but posting it on instagram, when knowing full well that you could see their posts?" She shook her head in a small frustration for you.

For a while, there was quietness, and Taylor was taking your last reason into consideration next. Not that she really needed to, as the answer could be obvious for anyone.

"And if they forgot...then I don't know if they're really counted as your close friends, sweetheart," Taylor whispered, giving you that gentleness thats always needed when saying such words, and your eyes flickered to her. Although filled with hurt, there was a certain knowing look in your expressions.

"But what if its not intentional?" you tried to reason, to think of it in another perspective in a way to help your mind. Which, was slowly getting caught up in clusters of messes.

She sighed softly, her expressions softening along with her words. "Okay...there's multiple of them, right?" she asked. You hesitated, but gave a small, gentle nod.

"At least one of them should have cared enough to ask, or just speak up and tell you about it," she said, her hand carefully going up, and brushing your hair with her fingers. You thought it through, then slumped a little into her as the words started to register.

She felt your fingers furling into her shirt. You were closing your eyes as if it could make it any better. "It's just...like...I...wish I wasn't like this, Tay." You looked up to catch her gaze, eyes vulnerable. The words were spilled out slow, but fast at the same time, mixed with hesitation, and wanting to get it all over with.

Your lips tightened. "Like, what if I'm just gonna be this...stupid sensitive thing that everyone always sees? I don't fit...parties. I never did," you say, tumbling it all out completely like it didn't seem to be the most offensive thing if someone else had spewed that out to you.

Taylor swallowed gently, then slowly shook her head. "...No..." she whispered back, and as much as it was quiet, her voice held genuine firmness enough to be holding you together.

"Baby, no..." the next words were breathed out, and she pulled you even closer, leaning in for a soft kiss on your temple.

"Listen. You are not...a 'stupid sensitive thing', you are a person. You have a beautiful mind, and it needs the care that most people don't...seem to want to acknowledge." Her words made you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

She takes a deep breath in, sighing out as she leaned back. "Do you wanna know what I think?" Her blue eyes caught on yours once again. Her fingers were splayed out on your back, but not gripping the fabric like you were with her shirt. You were waiting. She was willing to give it all to you. The perspective she had, and the tenderness in her care.

"I think...that you love the quieter, and simpler moments," she whispered, her free hand pushing back some of your hair. "And I think thats...perfect already, for who you are." A gentle touch was felt when her hand goes back down, resting on your knee.

You couldn't help it. Her voice was reaching out easily to you, and through the battle of your mind, it was all going down already. But in the moment, you looked down, finding her palm to trace the light lines upon it.

She tilts her head, a small smile curving her lips when she noticed, but she continues. "...I know your brain might not like it, and it might fight with it just because you think you should like more entertaining things...but sweetheart, your heart is already content with comfort, and definitely prefers it a whole lot more."

You bit your lip, but didn't do any damage this time, your hand turning into a loose fist against her palm. "But I don't wanna be careful." She felt the brush of your knuckles, and her hand simply held it, embracing in the language of hands. A hug, without arms wrapped around bodies.

"I know...but thats what you need," she whispered back, glancing to your hand, and she unfurls your fingers to slip hers through, intertwining, before looking back at you to keep eye contact again.

"Thats what you deserve. Gentleness. Care. And why would I ever want you to be left feeling overwhelmed?" she asked. yoirs shoulders went down slightly in defeat of your body.

Her face softens. "It's not fun when you see me being overwhelmed over work, right?" Your brain clicked in her point, and there was that look of realization that she's been trying to reach.

"No..." your voice was small, but either way, she still heard it, and saw the way your lips moved in admittance, which had her breathing out in gentle relief.

"Exactly, baby," she murmured, leaning in close so she could brush your noses in a gentle nuzzle for making it through the hard part.

You didn't want to say it, add in another thing, but it bubbled up your throat to go past your lips. "...But...I...I just...ruin it for you when we do go to parties."

Her look didn't contain any frustration, or anger at the added in worry, but just more worry and affection instead. She shook her head gently, insistently almost, and her eyes were sweet in love and care.

"I know you can get overwhelmed really easily. Okay? But listen, you could never. ruin. a single. thing." Your lips were parting to speak up, but her finger gently stopped you before you could.

"I'm not done, shhh..." You giggled, just ever so slightly, and her heart lightened at the small sound of joy. "You're my whole...entire world. Above anything else, you're my priority."

"It doesn't matter if you feel like you wanna cry, or hide away, or just have some spot to sit at. You can have all that, and I'll always be here to hold your hand, or to just hold you exactly like this," she says, having brought you up to her chest all over again, even tighter this time, feeling like a teddy bear hugging you.

She kissed the top of your head. "You deserve a break whenever you need it, baby. It doesn't make you any less of a human being. In fact it only makes you more, okay? Because yes, of course, some of these people can go through these parties somehow, and I can too, but it doesn't mean I haven't gotten overwhelmed myself either."

She was going into a ramble of her own really, but you simply listened, in admiration, and trying to get it all engraved in your mind.

A sigh left her lips as she caught her breath for a moment. "It's something thats...normal. It doesn't seem like it, and for some reason other people don't think it is. But...everyone always has their own levels of sensitivities to certain things."

You leaned into her more, burying your face into her chest, and finding home somewhere near her collarbone, steady with the feel of her heartbeat.

She rests her cheek against your hair, nearly squishing herself against you as her fingers trailed down your spine. "...We don't have to go to parties...you know? There's other things we could do."

"Like us, cuddling right now...there's no need for all the...loud and fun thingies," she murmured, giving a small squeeze, and you let out a small giggle at the end of her sentence.

She joined in with a small smile and a chuckle herself, nuzzling into your neck, but pulling back afterwards. Her hands go up to cup your face, holding you like you were something precious.

"I...see you as the most...kind, loving soul...and thats exactly why I love you," she whispered. Your eyes reflected the absolute affection that she had in hers.

"I also love that side of you that needs the special care it craves, and I want to give it the gentleness it deserves." Now you know why you fell for her in the first place. Her absolute adorable way of loving you, and her need to reaffirm that one thought in her mind that seemed to always linger.

"...Thank you..." you said it under your breath, your words faltering slightly in the midst of an emotional burst your heart just got from whatever magic she put.

"I love you so much." You leaned into her, mumbling, and nuzzling into her hands that held your face.

She giggled, about to practically melt at the sight and the soft touch. She goes closer, brushing her lips first before capturing you into a sweet kiss. "...I love you too."

It lingers, even as you both pull away, and her hands slip to go loosely by the nape of your neck. You could still feel the warmth and softness of her lips.

She looked into your eyes. Not analyzing, not searching, just seeing the shine in them that she always loved to see whenever you were in moments like this.

"You know what?" she says suddenly. You gazed, curiosity striking up to fill your senses at her change of tone for a possible idea.

"We can do something better. Better than...partying, or hanging out with random people, friends of friends. We can have our own fun, sweetheart." A smile was growing on her face, getting bigger and showing her cute teeth with one that had gotten chipped just the smallest bit. She was planning on getting it fixed. You remember.

When you reel your mind back from the distraction so you could sink back into reality, you hear the last of her sentence; "And it doesn't even have to be anything crazy, it can still be fun even with some calmness."

You raised your eyebrows, in question of what exactly she had in mind, and she grinned.

"So...how about...we get off of this couch...and go to our room, and play some Minecraft with you sitting right in my lap? So I can cuddle and kiss you without leaning over to my side..." she suggests, and if the idea of the scene wasn't enough for her, the way your face lit up at it was even more of a love attack to her heart.

Then, you looked down to the cat beside you both, who's either been listening in on the conversation, or napping. "Can we bring Meredith...?"

She giggles wholeheartedly, her head gently tilting as she did. "Yes, we can bring Meredith, baby..."

You silently cheered on the inside, the big smile on your face showing it all as you carefully picked the cat up and stood, bringing Taylor with you by your other hand.

She didn't mind it at all, and loved how fast you agreed to simply play a video game with her.

Your shared footsteps on the wooden flooring was gentle, albeit with some creaks sounding out, it only showed that the house was lived in by the two of you.

As soon as you arrived, you carefully hand Meredith over to Taylor, who blinked, having taken her from you out of instinct. But she saw the excitement visible from you.

She watched you with affection in her gaze, and moved to sit down on the bed, getting comfortable by the center of the pillows, and set down Meredith beside her.

You turned on the tv with the remote, then grabbed the controllers for both of you, and you soon joined her on the bed.

The console turned on with a gentle beep once you pressed the main button on your controller, and you leaned into Taylor with a soft sigh.

She tilted her head, but then smiled as she gently pulled you in, bringing you up to settle in her lap, and your lips parted in surprise.

Then a small, light blush overtook you as you glanced at her over your shoulder. She stifled a small giggle, having kept her promise from earlier that you had either forgotten, or hesitated on accepting.

You decided to have Meredith in your lap too, practically looking like some three layer cake stacked on each other. Taylor smiled widely, reaching over to hold you, and at times petting Meredith.

You went through the games on the homescreen before eventually finding Minecraft, just like she suggested, and you leaned your back against her front as the game loaded up.

She connected her own controller, feeling the textured joysticks and getting herself familiar to the controls again.

Once you've made a new world, you used the splitscreen mode so she could join, and you soon saw her character ingame.

She had a skin that looked exactly like her, although wearing overalls, and shoes that matched your skin's.

You both started gathering wood, and all the materials needed for a house when you found a beautiful little spot for it. Of course, not forgetting to grab beds for the mobs spawning in the nighttime.

It was all going well, and you even had a nether ruin portal nearby with only one block missing, which was in the chest. An easy access to the underworld.

You had adventured out a little, finding biomes all around and collecting different types of wood for the house until you were content. There were villages with cats that Taylor was already taming, and a swamp with a witch's hut.

You were up tall on the walls of your shared house as you built, carefully crouching your character, and Taylor was sorting out the items in the chest.

She had already told you that she was planning on going mining when she spots something out the front of your home.

"Oh my god, baby, look," she urged, having stopped on her journey out as she heard a sound and looked up.

You hummed, turning your view to where Taylor was looking ingame, then blinked at the sight. "When did we have a frog here?" you asked, seeing it making itself home right at the path of your house.

"I think you left it, from when you were going to make that farm thing?" She responded in question, unsure as she was trying to remember back from the hour before.

The random situation clicked in your brain, and you relaxed into her. "Ohhh...right, to get the froglight blocks...oops."

"The frog kinda took froglights too literally..." Taylor mumbled gently, as the frog was standing atop the lamppost you had done together. It looked all high and mighty, and you laughed.

She giggled softly too, and that made the cat in your lap open its eyes in curiosity of the slight shaking. Or, it thought you two were purring cats of your own.

"Okay, I'm gonna go mining now..." Taylor murmured, continuing to walk away, and you took a peek.

"Stay safe, baby," you noted, continuing your building as you do. There were meows within the game, and that had Meredith staring at the screen.

Taylor leaned forward, giving a soft kiss to the side of your head. "Love you," she whispered. You flushed gently, feeling your shoulders go ever so slightly upwards at the sudden affection.

"Love you too...and I'm still right next to you. You're not going mining in real life," you said to her, looking at her eyes. They had their corners crinkled, adorably mixed in with her nose scrunched up too.

"I know, I just wanted to kiss you." She leaned in closer. You had an even wider smile than before, giggling as you meet her in a sweet kiss upon the lips.

When you pulled away, she rested her chin on your shoulder, adorable and comfortable there. You both had gone on to your own tasks, and a quiet peacefulness settled in the atmosphere.

She was travelling the dark caves until—"Oh my god!!?" she exclaimed. Your eyes went to her side of the screen, and a large gasp came from your mouth as you saw her getting blown up by a creeper.

The death message came up, and you blinked at first, but then bursted into fits of giggles, laughter sparkling up the area and her heart like none other.

She joined in giggling beside you, all while pressing respawn to go quickly retrieve her stuff back before it could disappear.

"Gosh, these creepers..." she murmured out softly, sighing as she tries to make her way back to whichever cave she let herself wander into.

You heard another explosion, but nearby the house this time, which could only mean that she had gotten another creeper attack.

You had to resist from laughing again as you saw her staring up at you in the game, catching your gaze. Somehow she hadn't died. "Baby...are you okay??"

"Yeah! Yes...just...I have a creeper curse now. Which is great, exactly what I wanted for mining...three of them jumped from behind me!" she says, rambling slightly.

"Light up the place more, sweetheart. And get a shield, if you haven't..." You let one of your hands trail down to her arm to give a comforting rub, and she pouted.

"I have...they just come out of nowhere!" You could see the shape of her lips in the corner of your eye, above your shoulder still, and you couldn't hold back a smile.

"Well...they are called creepers..." you whispered, the old pun within the sentence being very obvious, and she laughed softly once again. "Shush..."

Little gentle sounds played as she picked up her items again, getting them secured into her inventory. "Our iron and diamonds are safe, thankfully."

You cheered gently, and finished up the last of the house you were building. She was coming back, running across the grass and grabbing some food for the both of you in the midst of it.

Once she arrived, she saw the house that you've been working on, and stayed admiring it for a moment. "That house looks beautiful, baby," she whispered near your ear.

You smiled softly, feeling your heart warm up at her compliment. "Thank you...I need some good boots though, I keep falling."

She gave a soft kiss somewhere on your skin. "Yes, you love falling while building. I'll get you some. Enchanted too, maybe..." she murmured, trailing off. She was wanting to give you the best of gifts, and you had to catch your heart from entirely bursting.

By the hours that passed, and a mealtime going by too, you two soon had the tv off, bodies in comfy clothing, and you were settling into bed for the night.

You went in first, getting comfortable on the soft mattress. Taylor joins in slowly behind you, laying down on her side of the pillows, even if it didn't matter, since you both would always get in each other's sides, cuddling.

Her arms circled themselves around your waist, and she pulls you closer. You turned around so you could see her.

It was gentle as you leaned in, breathing in her scent and burrowing yourself into her. She felt that fuzzy, gentle feeling within her, her nose brushing against your hair in the meanwhile.

With a breath, you adjusted yourself more, deciding to rest your cheek against her chest. For a bit, you tilt your head up to catch her gaze down on you, and you search her eyes with carefulness. "...Do you know how much I appreciate you?"

A smile grew upon her lips, and she moved to intertwine your legs below. "Maybe now I do...but I kind of see it every day. When you kiss me...or look into my eyes..." she whispered.

This was as close as you could possibly be with her, all warm and snuggled up. She then went to give your nose a small, tiny little boop. "And I'm just as grateful to have you, sweetheart..."

Your heart was full of what the sunshine would feel like in the mornings, and you took in the moment, simply going quiet again and cuddling.

It was the time to fall to slumber. Definitely. But you were only blinking, eyes open, and even if you let them fall to a close, it would be pointless. A staring contest with the darkness without drifting away.

And so, a gentle sigh escapes you. "Tay..." you whispered, and that made you have her loving attention once more.

"Mmn?" she responded, having been gently running her hands through your hair. The cats weren't in bed this time around. It was just you, and her, and nothing else.

"...I dunno if I can sleep," you murmured, looking up at her once more. There was just that second of admiring her, to feel the rise and falls of her chest for just a bit.

She hums softly in thought, hands mindlessly gliding down to your arm. "What do you wanna do then?"

"...Sleep..." you responded back, in that sleepy tone she loved. She giggled, hugging you closer. "I know, baby. I mean, do you wanna...watch a movie...talk...or...?"

"Mmn." You gently squished your cheek against her slightly, and Taylor could feel the small pressure on her chest.

Then, you breathed in softly. "Can you...um...will yooouu..." your word was elongated in both hesitation and trying to find the right way of saying it, fingers fiddling with the fabric of her shirt.

She waits patiently, her lip caught in her teeth ever so gently, and there was a small raise in her brows.

You took a deeper breath next. "Can you maybe, sing to me? Maybe?" the words spilt out soon enough, and Taylor gazed down at you to see the glimmer in your eyes that had hopes and nerves.

"You don't have to, its just..." you shook your head, a sigh escaping as you hug her closer again.

She goes to gently pause you before you could speak any further. "Baby...of course I'll sing for you," she easily said.

"Do you know how cute you are?" Taylor whispered, stifling a small, sweet laugh, and a warm blush was making its way up your cheeks.

She shifted slightly to get more comfortable, her cheek against the pillow while parts of her skin also brushed against your hair still. "Mmn...what are some lullabies I know of..."

You waited patiently, not wanting to push, but also hoping for one thing. Just one special thing.

The air in the room was gentle, and it was quiet. Only the AC had a small noise, and her breaths were right next to you.

Then, she smiles, giving you that softest, most comforting look that she always had. She didn't take long. A starting was slowly coming around, and her humming rose up quietly in the hushed room.

"...I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I'll never let you go." she whispered, the gentle melody in her voice following along.

She had her hands moving gently, fingers going to thread through your hair like it was her second nature to do, and most times, it was.

"When all those shadows almost killed your light..."

"I remember you said, 'Don't leave me here alone'..."

"But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight." You could hear her heartbeat to where you were at her chest, and it was matching in tenderness of the music.

"Just close your eyes..." She went to have her hand hovering right above your forehead, gliding down gently to make you close your eyes, and you giggled. It made her falter her singing slightly to join you in a small, quiet chuckle, but she continues.

"The sun is going down...you'll be alright." You nuzzle more into her, letting out a sigh in relief. Her hand travels to your back, and she sneaks in a sweet kiss to your forehead with her very own nuzzle.

"No one can hurt you now."

"Come morning light..."

"You and I'll be safe...and...sound." Once the chorus goes down, her voice goes back down to a hum, and it was working. The drowsiness was settling in.

"Don't you dare look out your window, darlin', everything's on fire..."

"The war outside our door keeps ragin' on..."

"Hold on to this lullaby." You could feel your eyes starting to get droopy, and it was getting difficult to keep yourself awake just to hear her sing.

But by the time you closed your eyes again, there was no resisting in surrendering yourself over to the peaceful slumber.

"Even when the music's gone..." She looks down, a small raise of affection in her lips as she notices. "Gone..."

Then, she starts humming softly, following the gentle melody she remembers from the many times she's played it, both to you, to an audience, and when she first produced the song. But the most points that had gotten the record on that song, was you. And she adored it just as much as you did.

She does so until she decides its long enough of a melody for your mind to be at peace, and your gentle expressions showed so.

Only her breaths sounded out next, and she was closing her eyes, too. She was content with being intertwined with you, feeling your body's warmth like the light of the sun.

----------------------

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@dmenby3100 @tia-thesimp @marvelwomen-simp @escapereality4music @fawnedolly @mistynatsfavourite @lovelyy-moonlight @stevecore @midastouch013 @liloandstitchstan @maleahoswick @raven-ss @deadlymistletoe @bambisfawns @dulcepoet @natsxwife @orange15quote @bleachxbunny @hushwhennooneisaround @samsswiftie @gay4hotmilfs @mirage018

[crunchybeards]

Oh man, the naming conventions for this game are one of my favourite things about this game. I cannot for the life of me remember the term in english, it's been a minute but the gist of it is that the labels of our respective party members/ friends are essentially just a perception vs reality theme where their titles are our biased initial perception of them as opposed to the reality of their characters. That's the main thing I picked up from this naming convention at least.

A really long ramble but I do have thoughts on this. Spoilers for the game under the cut:

Op already hit the nail on the head with why Dan's labelled as a creep and it's understandable why people feel irked by that. It's because we know Dan isn't a creep as in 'bad person'. He's just not good at conventional social skills and I know it especially icks people out because a popular head canon is that Dan's autistic, so seeing an autistic dude struggle his way through social cues and get labelled as a creep for it is an understandable grievance to have.

Hell, we see this theme present with Hellen's entire character. She's tall, she's buff, she has an intimidating aura and the first time you meet her she pulls out a cleaver on you. This woman is as scary as scary can get. But if you willingly let her in and become friends, then you get to understand her character and motivations more. You learn that yes, she does enjoy killing, but purely for the love of the game. She doesn't intentionally harm people and she's a surprisingly careful and considerate person. We see this consideration of how people perceive her and her awareness that her presence is intimidating/ unsettling to others by the mere fact that when you first share a meal with her, she eats in the bathroom, away from everybody else. She purposefully hides her face to make herself less scary, she eats away from everybody else because she knows her face unsettles people. She's considerate of other people's feelings and takes precautions to make you feel better. You wouldn't think or know this about her if you either shut the door on her face or killed her. You'd go off of instinct and bias alone and perpetually perceive her as 'The Knife-wielding Maniac Who Wanted To Come Inside My Apartment.', not the person that she truly is.

It's interesting how this theme works in the inverse too. Lyle, as much as we love the guy, would be considered a textbook creep. But that's because we, the player, already have that hindsight because we already know about Lyle's candid photos of Sam and his overall obsession with him, either from a previous run or just general knowledge. But for each new run where this information is never exposed, we play the game as Sam would in universe understand it as. To him, Lyle's just been cursed and is very anxious about the whole situation but ultimately a friendly albeit weird dude that you have a distant shared history with. But he's not a creep or a stalker, he doesn't unsettle him despite being exactly that in reality.

The whole perception versus reality thing is quite literally baked into the game, the door encounters are a great example of this. Characters appear as a whole lot scarier than they actually are, it perpetuates this theme of paranoia. It's a brilliant mechanic that both punishes and rewards you for your choices. Looking through the eyehole and seeing a warped, scarier version of a person adds to the constant wariness of being in an environment that was once familiar but is now distorted. You're scared, you're confused and the only thing that can 100% keep you safe is choosing to stay locked behind your door. But you can also choose to take a risk and open it, maybe you'll make a friend or fight an enemy. Seriously, the pizza delivery boy encounter looked scary through that peephole, I can understand why you, both Sam and we as the players, would be a bit wary of everything and incorrectly assume things about people. There's a chance it can go wrong and a chance you'll be fine and even better afterwards.

In a game where you have multiple characters wearing different literal and metaphorical masks, where trusting your instincts and your better judgment are crucial, it makes sense that people get the labels that they do. It's life or death when it comes to deciding whether or not you're willing to be a more introspective person or understandably, attack those that you perceive as a threat.

These labels are definitely inaccurate to their characters as we, the player, have come to know them as but that bias is still there. It's fucked up logic for sure but it's definitely, at least to me, a purposeful extension of the game's overall narrative of being weary of who you trust AND still being humane about it too.

Been thinking about this post.

Not to get too philosophical, but oftentimes the character classes in Look Outside are really derogatory and sometimes even inaccurate… and I think that’s the point?

The character classes seem to be how a person is PERCEIVED. Like. Not by any one specific person, but society at large.

Dan’s a creep because people find his behavior off-putting and annoying, and that’s all it takes. Hellen’s a maniac because of how scary she looks. Sophie’s a menace because she’s a child that’s difficult to deal with. Joel’s a tooth child because how could anyone notice anything else about him?