#The use of different brushes for each character was fun though :)

[castaccio]

I know people dislike the implications of Shadows of Rose, but consider:

The spirits watch over Rose for her whole life. (Read Left to Right)

[eliaah]

you called them “your husband”

characters: yami sukehiro, fuegoleon vermillion, nozel silva, william vangeance, & jack.

tags: fluff , multi characters x fem reader

a/n: i forgot to add william in my last post so here's my apology for him shjsksksks, i'm so sorry that i forgot him 😭

🍁 YAMI SUKEHIRO

The tavern is lively tonight, filled with the usual rowdy crowd. After a long mission, there’s nothing better than unwinding with a drink in hand, especially with Yami by my side. We’re sitting at the bar, close enough that our shoulders brush together every time one of us moves. It’s a small comfort, a reminder that he’s here, and that I’m safe.

The Black Bulls are scattered around the tavern, celebrating in their usual chaotic fashion. Magna and Asta are arm-wrestling in the corner, while Finral is attempting to flirt with a group of local girls, much to Charmy’s amusement as she devours her feast. The laughter and chatter create a warm, buzzing atmosphere that feels like home.

Yami leaned in closer to me, his deep voice rumbling softly in my ear. “You did good out there today. Not bad for someone who’s usually stuck doing paperwork.”

I smirked, nudging him with my elbow. “I’m more than just a pretty face, Captain.”

He chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Damn right you are.”

The comfortable banter between us had always been there, but tonight felt different. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through our veins, or maybe it was just the warmth of the tavern and the closeness we shared.

As I take a sip of my drink, a group of regulars from the tavern comes over, striking up a conversation. They’ve clearly had a few too many, but their curiosity gets the better of them. One of them, a burly man with a grin that shows off a missing tooth, looks between Yami and me.

“So, what’s the deal with you two?” he asks, his voice slurred.

I feel a mischievous smile tug at my lips as I lean back in my chair, deciding to have a little fun. “Oh, he's my husband.” The words come out before I can fully think them through, but once they’re out there, I don’t regret them. There’s a split second where everything feels like it’s frozen in time—like the whole tavern is holding its breath.

Yami, who had been in the middle of taking a drink, nearly chokes. He looks at me with wide eyes, his expression a mixture of shock and amusement. The rest of the group looks between us, unsure if they should laugh or back away slowly.

“Husband, huh?” Yami finally says, setting his drink down and wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He’s trying to play it cool, but I can see the redness creeping up his neck and to his cheeks.

I give him a cheeky grin, tilting my head slightly. “Yeah, you got a problem with that… husband?”

The word feels strange on my tongue, but it also feels right. And by the way Yami’s looking at me, I can tell it hit him just as hard. He leans closer, his face just inches from mine now, and I can see the playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that one.” he says, his voice low and teasing. But the way his lips quirk up and his ears turn a little red gives him away. He’s as flustered as I am.

“I’d like to see you try.” I shoot back, my heart racing faster than it should. There’s a charged energy between us, something more than just the usual teasing banter.

For a moment, we just stare at each other, the noise of the tavern fading into the background. His face is so close, and all I can think about is how red his cheeks are—how red mine must be too. It’s ridiculous, really. We’ve been together for a while now, and yet, this simple word, “husband,” has both of us acting like nervous teenagers.

Yami’s the first to break the silence, laughing softly as he pulls back slightly, his grin widening. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

I roll my eyes, though I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face. “Yeah, yeah. You know you liked it.”

He gives me a look that’s half amused, half something else—something warmer. “Maybe I did.” he admits, his voice quieter now, almost serious.

There’s a moment where neither of us says anything. Then, as if realizing how sappy things are getting, Yami suddenly grabs his mug, downing the rest of his drink in one go. I laugh, the tension breaking as easily as it had formed.

But even as we go back to our usual banter, teasing each other about anything and everything, I can’t help but notice how his hand occasionally brushes against mine or how his gaze lingers just a little too long.

And when the night finally ends and we head back to the base, Yami pulls me close, his arm around my waist, and whispers in my ear, “G’night, wife.”

My heart skips a beat, and I look up at him, seeing the same flustered expression on his face.

“Goodnight, husband.” I whisper back, feeling my face flush once more.

We walk the rest of the way in comfortable silence, both of us trying to hide our smiles in the darkness of the night.

🍁 FUEGOLEON VERMILLION

The grand hall of the Vermillion estate is quiet tonight, a serene stillness settling over the room. The warm, golden glow from the fireplace bathes the space in a comforting light, making the shadows dance along the walls. Fuegoleon and I are nestled together on a plush couch, wrapped in a peaceful silence that feels as intimate as any conversation. His arm is draped over my shoulders, fingers gently playing with a strand of my hair, and I find myself leaning into him, savoring the rare moment of calm.

The day had been long, filled with duties and obligations that left little time for us. But now, with the world outside feeling so far away, it’s just the two of us. This, I think, is my favorite part of the day.

I tilt my head to look up at him, admiring the way the firelight softens his usually stern features. “You know,” I begin softly, a playful tone creeping into my voice, “I could get used to spending my evenings like this.”

Fuegoleon looks down at me, a curious smile playing on his lips. “And what exactly would that be?” he asks, his voice warm.

“With my husband.” I reply, the words slipping out almost too casually, though the impact of them is anything but.

For a moment, everything seems to pause. Fuegoleon’s eyes widen slightly, the word clearly catching him off guard. He blinks, processing what I just said, and I can see the faintest hint of pink rising to his cheeks. Despite his usually composed demeanor, there’s a flicker of something more vulnerable in his expression, something that makes my heart swell.

“Husband.” he repeats, almost as if he’s testing the word on his tongue. His voice is calm, but there’s a softness in it that wasn’t there before. I can tell that he’s flustered, though he’s trying to hide it behind that noble composure.

I smile up at him, feeling a bit giddy at his reaction. “Yes, my husband.” I say, a little more firmly this time, enjoying the way the word makes him react. “That’s what you are, after all.”

Fuegoleon lets out a soft, almost nervous laugh, the sound so unlike his usual self that it makes my heart skip a beat. “Well then,” he begins, his voice gentle but tinged with a warmth that makes my cheeks flush, “if I’m your husband, then that must make you… my wife.”

Now it’s my turn to feel flustered, the weight of his words sinking in. There’s something so intimate, so precious about hearing him call me that, and I can feel my face heating up in response. But it’s not just the words, it’s the way he says them, with such sincerity and affection that it makes me want to melt into the cushions.

He notices my reaction, and a soft smile spreads across his face, his eyes filled with a rare, tender warmth. Fuegoleon shifts slightly, his hand cupping my cheek as he leans in closer. “My wife.” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, but filled with so much emotion that it makes my heart flutter.

I lean into his touch, my own smile widening as I meet his gaze. “I think I like the sound of that,” I murmur, my voice trembling slightly with the overwhelming rush of affection I feel for him.

His thumb brushes gently across my cheek, and for a moment, it feels like the entire world has narrowed down to just the two of us. “And I think I like calling you that.” he replies softly, his eyes never leaving mine.

Fuegoleon leans down, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead, the gesture so full of love that it takes my breath away. As he pulls back, his gaze lingers on mine, and I can see the soft blush that still colors his cheeks. It’s a rare sight to see him this flustered, and it makes the moment all the more special.

“Husband.” he says again, the word almost reverent, as if he’s savoring it. “I promise, I’ll always do my best to be worthy of that title.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back, not wanting to miss a second of this moment. “And I’ll always be here by your side.” I whisper, my voice filled with all the love I feel for him.

He pulls me closer, wrapping me in his arms, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my own. As we sit there, the warmth of the fire and the comfort of his embrace surrounding us, I realize that this—right here, with him—is all I’ll ever need.

And as the night drifts on, and the flames in the fireplace begin to die down, Fuegoleon’s hand remains intertwined with mine, a silent promise that whatever the future holds, we’ll face it together, as husband and wife.

🍁 NOZEL SILVA

The grand hall of the Silva estate is elegantly decorated for Nozel’s birthday. Soft lights and floral arrangements create a warm, inviting atmosphere, and the guests mingle with drinks in hand. Despite the festive mood, Nozel stands somewhat aloof, his usual stern demeanor reflecting his indifference towards birthdays. Yet, he appears subtly touched by the effort around him.

As the evening progresses, a series of heartfelt messages are shared in Nozel’s honor. When it’s my turn, I step up with a blend of excitement and affection, feeling both nervous and eager to speak.

Nozel looks at me with his usual calm but curious gaze, and I begin.

“Happy birthday, Nozel. I know you often think birthdays are just another day, but I wanted to take this moment to tell you how much you mean to me. Your strength and dedication are truly admirable, but it’s your kindness and support that touch my heart the most. I’m incredibly grateful for every day we spend together.”

The room is silent as everyone listens, clearly moved by my words. Nozel’s expression softens, a rare, tender smile gracing his lips. The crowd watches with anticipation.

I take a playful breath and add, “And, since it’s your special day,” I continue, “I guess I should mention… I’m glad to be with you, my husband.”

A collective gasp echoes through the hall, followed by curious whispers. “They’re married? When did that happen?” The room buzzes with surprise.

Nozel’s face turns a deep shade of red, his usual calm composure replaced by an endearing fluster. I can’t help but chuckle, enjoying the playful chaos I’ve stirred.

After the applause, Nozel approaches me with a sheepish but affectionate smile. “Did you really have to drop that bombshell in front of everyone?” His voice is gentle, tinged with a mix of embarrassment and fondness.

I look up at him, my cheeks flushed from both the excitement and his reaction. “I just thought it would make your birthday more memorable.” I tease with a wink.

Nozel’s blush deepens, but his eyes soften as he gazes at me. “I appreciate that.” he says, his smile widening. “It’s nice to know you care enough to tease me like this.”

I squeeze his hand playfully. “Even if it’s just teasing, I wanted to remind you that you’re deeply loved and appreciated. I hope it made you smile.”

Nozel’s expression turns even more tender, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You certainly succeeded in making me smile. And... I have to admit, I’m starting to like the sound of ‘husband’.”

As the evening continues, our playful banter becomes a sweet part of the celebration. Nozel, embracing the nickname, uses it with a fond smile. His initial embarrassment fades into a comfortable affection, and he begins to tease me back with a charmingly flustered grin.

When the soft strains of music fill the room, Nozel extends his hand with a gracious smile. “May I have this dance, my wife?”

I nod, feeling my heart flutter with happiness. As we move to the center of the room, Nozel’s hand is gentle but firm, guiding me with care. After a few moments, he leans in and kisses the back of my hand, his eyes full of warmth.

“I’m glad to have you by my side,” he murmurs softly. “And I’m grateful for every moment we share, teasing or otherwise.”

I smile up at him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “And I’m glad to be with you, husband.”

As we continue to dance, surrounded by the soft glow of the candles and the cheerful hum of the celebration, the night transforms into a moment of genuine connection and affection, making it a birthday to remember for both of us.

🍁 WILLIAM VANGEANCE

The flower shop is a haven of tranquility, its shelves bursting with colorful blooms and sweet fragrances. William and I are browsing, searching for a special flower to celebrate our relationship. As I sift through the flowers, my excitement builds, knowing this day is about cherishing our bond.

Spotting the elderly shopkeeper, I approach her with a warm smile. “Excuse me, I’m looking for white orchids. They’re for my husband.”

The shopkeeper’s eyes light up with a gentle smile. “White orchids, you say? We have a lovely bouquet in the back. Let me get it for you.”

As she heads to retrieve the flowers, I glance back at William. He’s standing a little ways behind me, his face slightly flushed and a soft smile on his lips. He seems genuinely touched by my casual use of “husband.” and it makes my heart flutter.

William steps closer, his voice tender yet playful. “You really didn’t have to call me that in public. It’s… unexpected.”

I turn to him, my eyes filled with affection. “I wanted to. It feels right to call you that, even if it’s just a playful term. It’s a small way to show how much you mean to me.”

William’s cheeks are tinged with pink, and he looks at me with a mix of surprise and warmth. “Well, I have to admit, it’s quite endearing. It’s not something I expected today, but it certainly made me smile.”

The shopkeeper returns with a bouquet of pristine white orchids, placing it gently on the counter. I take the bouquet, feeling its delicate beauty. As I hold it close, I feel William’s hand brush against mine, and he leans in slightly.

“Thank you for choosing these,” he says, his voice soft. “They’re perfect, just like you.”

I blush, feeling a deep sense of joy. “I’m glad you think so. I wanted to do something special for you. Even if it’s just a small gesture, it means a lot to me.”

William’s smile grows, and he reaches out to gently tuck a white orchid from the bouquet into my hair. His touch is tender, and his eyes are filled with a loving gaze. “This flower suits you perfectly. It’s a symbol of how much you mean to me.”

I feel my heart race at his sweet gesture. “Thank you. It’s beautiful, and it makes this moment even more special.”

As we leave the shop after purchasing, hand in hand with the bouquet between us, William’s gaze is soft and affectionate. “I have to say, I’m not embarrassed by the nickname. It makes me happy. It’s a reminder of how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

I smile, feeling a warm blush on my cheeks. “I’m glad you like it. It’s just a small way of saying how much I love being with you.”

William’s smile deepens as he gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “And I love every moment we share. You’ve made today unforgettable.”

Walking together, the bouquet of white orchids between us, the day feels magical. William’s gentle touch and the warmth of our shared moments make everything feel perfect, and I feel deeply connected and cherished.

🍁 JACK

During a lively festival, Jack and Yami are locked in a heated cooking competition. The atmosphere is electric, with people cheering and enjoying the festivities.

Jack and Yami are both in the middle of preparing their dishes at their respective stalls. The crowd is watching intently, and the rivalry between the two is adding to the excitement of the event.

As Jack is focused on his cooking, he suddenly starts arguing with Yami about the best way to cook a dish. Their bickering gets louder and more intimidating. Trying to intervene and bring some calm, I step in.

“Alright, you two, enough already!” I say, trying to be heard over their arguing.

Jack turns to me, looking slightly frazzled. “What’s the matter?”

I roll my eyes playfully. “You’re making a scene, Jack. You need to focus on your cooking and stop fighting.”

Jack’s eyes widen in shock, and he tries to respond, but I cut him off. “And as much as I adore you, you really need to stop being such a loudmouth. I suppose that’s just how my husband acts.”

The entire area goes quiet for a moment, with everyone turning to look at us. Jack freezes, his eyes widening in shock. Yami bursts into laughter, clearly enjoying Jack’s reaction.

“Husband?” Yami calls out, laughing. “You two are married now?”

Jack’s face turns bright red, and he looks around, clearly flustered. “W-what? No, it’s just—”

I give him a teasing smile, enjoying the effect of my words. “Just a slip of the tongue, Jack. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Jack tries to regain his composure but is clearly struggling. “Yeah, sure. Just a slip of the tongue,” he mumbles, trying to hide his embarrassment.The crowd starts chuckling softly, enjoying the unexpected turn of events. Yami continues to tease Jack, while Jack tries to focus on the competition, though his flustered state makes it difficult.

As the festival winds down and we finish packing up, Jack approaches me with a slightly nervous but hopeful expression. He pulls out a small, neatly wrapped box from his bag.

“Hey,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. “I, uh, brought you something.”

I look at the box with curiosity. “What’s this?”

“It’s nothing special,” Jack replies quickly, trying to downplay it. “Just a little something I thought you might like.”

I open the box to find a portion of my favorite food, carefully prepared and packed. My heart warms at the sight.

“This is really sweet of you. Thank you.”

Jack scratches the back of his head, looking a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, well, you mentioned you liked it a lot, so I figured... you know.”

I smile, reaching out to give him a gentle hug. “It means a lot to me. Thank you.”

Jack smiles back, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Don’t mention it. Just... don’t expect me to call you ‘wife’ all the time or anything.”

I laugh, holding the box close. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As we walk away from the festival, Jack occasionally glances at me, clearly pleased by my reaction. The playful teasing from earlier is replaced with a comfortable, warm feeling between us. The evening ends with us enjoying the food Jack made, sharing stories and laughter under the stars, with the sweet memory of his thoughtful gesture adding a special touch to the night.

[writingsfromhome]

In Plain Sight

A/N: I wanted to play with the idea of 2 characters falling in love at different points in a story and what that would be like on each side. Idk if I fully captured what I wanted but I liked writing from harry/reader pov like this even though I kept switching partways lol.

Would love to know for inspo purposes—how do you know you’re falling?

———————————————

This is a first, you thought as you and Claire walked into the art gallery—one of your friends had a show of their unique pieces, mixing tech with traditional art. All of it was inspired by their partner, the lead in an indie pop band so to tie it all together they were playing at the gallery while the pieces hung on the walls, rippling with their programmed light and movement.

Take a posh gallery and stitch it with a rave. That’s kind of what it looked like in there.

“Guess I didn’t need to look so fancy,” Claire says in your ear. You two had spent the last half hour sorting your closets to figure out what was art-show appropriate.

“Let’s find Mimi,” you shout back.

You weave through the crowds, staying on the outskirts and spot her all the way up the front by the stage. You both agree to find her later and opt for a drink instead.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight,” Claire comments as a tall guy brushes by, eyeing the length of her with a smirk before walking away. “Maybe you will.”

“That’d be nice,” you sigh. You hated being the chronically single one of your friends but that’s just how it went. Well it went beyond that—you felt unlucky in love.

Every relationship you poured yourself into and every relationship failed, just like that.

You were unloveable, maybe. You were lonely, definitely. So you’d take the warmth of a stranger where you could get it.

“I have an idea,” Claire says. “We dance our way through the crowd, I’ll be your wingwoman and we can make our way through towards Mimi. You’re so going home with someone tonight.”

You hold your glass up in agreement, you’d learned to just go with Claire’s ideas. Somehow they never worked in your favour, but that’s what you got for having a best friend that was a smokeshow. It used to bother you, but now in your late 20s after seeing Claire go through men like she went through shoes, it didn’t matter. The guys she went for also wanted a fun time like her. You wanted someone in it for the long run.

The men who felt the pull of her magnet were never meant for you anyway.

It felt mature, to think like that.

As Claire pulls you in, you find yourself dancing with male body after male body, hands on parts of you you barely touched yourself. You feel the familiar hollowness of loneliness. It was a constant companion, and yet never made you feel any less lonely.

Across the room stand two guys, they both watch Claire throw her head back and laugh. The purple and blue lights from above dance over her skin, she looked like a muse come to life. Like she was born from this art gallery.

“Mate. She’s beautiful,” Harry, the taller of the two, comments.

“You gonna talk to her?” Dylan asks. “Because if you’re not…”

“Give me a sec,” Harry got stupidly nervous around beautiful women. Which was stupid because he interacted with them on a daily basis, but that’s probably why he was considered a bit shy by people who met him. Shy was the nice way of saying awkward.

The thing with Harry is that he grew up as a wallflower. But in his mid 20s he started earning the attention of women. Pretty women. He felt like his pot of luck had been filled and then some, and yet he only got lucky on occasion. The problem was he just didn’t know what to do with his newfound attractiveness. Even 5 years on.

“There she goes,” Dylan comments as their muse moves to the bar. “Go on.”

Harry swears under his breath but makes his beeline towards her before anyone else could swoop in.

“Hiya,” Harry slides in beside her and then curses. He should have gone for something more suave. “Can I get you something-“

“I already ordered,” she smiles and Harry confirms she’s more beautiful than any of the crazy art in this room.

“Well it’s on me.”

“Thanks,” she takes him in. He tries not to squirm or think about what impression he was making. “I’m Claire.”

“Right. I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you Harry.”

“Likewise…So, erhm, you like dancing?”

She tilts her head, “I do. I was just down there.”

“I know.” Harry says. She raises a brow. Shite. “I mean like I saw you dancing. In the middle. You made it look like a fun time.”

“It is. Is dancing not fun for you?” She laughs. Her drink arrives and Harry pays for it orders for himself.

“I don’t do it a lot.” Harry taps his fingers on the bar. “I like the music part. That make you want to dance.”

She gives him that look. The look that told him he’d tipped the scales too far off to recover. Why couldn’t he just explain he made music? And dancing and making music went hand in hand. Why was that so hard to say??

“Well I’m going back in,” she announces. “Feel free to join.”

And of course he doesn’t. Because she would probably inch away from him if he did until the crowd swallowed her away.

“How’d it go? Make a good impression?” Dylan asks but Harry just downs half his drink and hopes that answers Dylan’s question. He’d made an impression alright.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the dancefloor you move to the heavy drums. This was one of your favourite songs by this group; it was on replay on your Spotify. The girl beside you grins at you and you both move in sync, shouting the lyrics. It’s more fun than you’d had with any guy here tonight.

When the band takes their break and a playlist replaces the live music, you try to find Claire. It’s surprising she doesn’t have a bloke already wrapped around her this late into the night.

“The line to the toilet is stupidly long,” she complains. “I don’t feel so good. Can we get air?”

“Of course,” you grip her arm and help her out. The night air is crisp compared to the recycled air inside. You take in a lungful.

“Hey,” Claire spots someone she knows and she moves towards them. You trail behind her as she walks up to two blokes smoking off to the side. “I never saw you dancing in there!”

The guy she’s talking to shrugs, his cheeks taking on a pinkish colour. He’s cute in a boyish way, but you reckon if he trimmed his hair and grew some scruff, he could be a lot more interesting to gaze at. A face that could hang in this art gallery, a soft pink light shimmering on the highs of his cheekbones.

His eyes clash with yours and you throw a friendly smile and make a conscious effort to join the group. You hadn’t heard what was said in the time you were admiring his face.

“I would if I hadn’t broken my foot a month ago,” the other guy says. He was a cold good-looking. Sharp features accentuated by a buzzcut. You could imagine him in an avant-garde spread of a magazine.

“Excuses!” Claire teases. She was good at this. “I was telling your friend here how fun dancing was, that he should join.”

“And he didn’t?! Harry, mate, we all know you dance.”

“Not the right setting.” He replies. Almost mumbles.

“Any setting is the right setting for dancing,” his friend says.

“Right!” Claire latches onto him, you knew her well enough she’d chosen her prey for tonight. “I feel like dancing is such a good release, any time music comes on my foot just-“

“Can’t hold it in right?” The other friend laughs. “Me too. When I’m on the tube I’m like how do I get into this without looking like a weirdo.”

Claire’s laugh crackles into the air. You smile, she was going home with him for sure.

You glance at Harry, he’s looking after her like a sad puppy. You’d seen that look too many times—dejected.

“I bet you wished you liked dancing more huh?” You tease, quiet so it doesn’t travel to the couple.

“Huh?” He looks at you like he just noticed you were standing beside him. “Oh. No?”

“Right.” Well this was awkward. “So you’re Harry. I’m y/n.”

“Oh sorry,” Claire says when she hears your name. “We’re so rude we just closed ourselves off to these two. This is y/n. and I just learned that this is Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dylan smiles at you. “Harry are you okay if we split?”

Claire looks at you, asking the same question with her eyes. You nod, and she smiles at you gratefully. Her eyes widen and she motions subtly with her head to Harry. You smile like it was a good idea but you know he wasn’t an option; he was one of Claire’s castaways. But she was too oblivious for that.

“Then there were two,” you joke, reaching for the familiar line. “Are you going back in?”

“In there?” He shakes his head. “We already said our goodbyes. I might just head home.”

“Oh okay. Did you know the artist?”

“I don’t. Dylan’s cousin is the lead singer in the band? We came by to support the show.”

“That’s nice.” You respond back even though he didn’t return the question. “I’ve worked with the artist actually—Jemima.”

“Cool. I take it you’re an artist yourself?” He asks, finally looking at you instead of around you.

“Yep. I do photography.”

A group of people exit the show and their noise drowns out whatever Harry was about to say. Without warning, like a valve opened, your chest fills with the ache of a feeling.

What am I doing here, you ask yourself. You’d come by to support Mimi, but you didn’t owe this guy anything. You should go home, do your usual routine of staring at the ceiling, hearing Claire come in late, try to drift to sleep, and then finally doing so.

Sometimes being with others felt more lonely than being alone.

“Anyway, it was nice meeting you Harry. I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh.” He seems surprised. “You’re leaving for home?”

“Well, yeah?” You shrug. “I’ve made my rounds, danced enough to need a gallon of water. My feet are telling me to go home.”

“You ladies talk about dancing and I feel like I missed out,” he laughs but it comes off kind of awkward and shy. It’s endearing.

You change your mind then—you imagine posing him at 3/4 angle and snapping him from below. Maybe a shot looking through his lashes. Something mysterious yet welcoming. The longer you got to know him, the more he shifted.

“Does that mean you want to go back in again?” You ask.

“Fuck it sure. If you come too. I don’t want to dance alone.”

“Why not? Have you never?”

“Danced alone?” He holds the door open for you and you go in. His energy seems to have shifted. He’s less awkward, more relaxed, but it still feels like you don’t have his full attention. Or maybe that was just your insecurities projected onto a beautiful man.

“I dare you,” you have to tip toe for him to hear you once you’re back in. You use both your hands on his back and guide/push him through the crowd. When you let go you open your arms wide.

He shakes his head and tries to grab your hands but you back away. “Dance!” You shout. “Let’s see.”

He laughs, his head weighing backwards like the ceiling could grant him some confidence, the length of his neck glistening with something you wanted to taste.

When he looks at you again you chant to dance and he shrugs away his shyness. Before you know it he’s moving until he’s actually in sync with the beat. You try not to be a creep, sneaking your phone out. He was a complete stranger but god the photo opportunity was perfect.

You manage two before he turns and finds you in the crowd again. He pulls you closer to him, nearly chest to chest.

“I should be a lot more drunk to be doing this.” He says in your ear. Goosebumps erupt down your arms.

Take it easy.

The two of you end up dancing for a few songs, laughing at new moves you put on. It becomes a contest to do a silly but serious move and you’re in stitches by the time the two of you stumble out.

“Jeez that was fun,” you lean against the brick fence a few buildings down. You were sweaty and out of breath, your body demanding hydration now.

“I have not done something like that in years. It was nice.” He grins. It feels like a secret. “Thank you for pushing me in.”

You felt like you should be thanking him, for the fun and for making you feel included tonight. But of course he ruins it when he opens his mouth next.

“You can tell your friend Claire I ended up dancing. It was a proper good time.”

“Yeah,” you fake a smile, the aching wound reawakening in your chest. “Maybe I will. I’m headed that way though, I’ll see you around Harry.”

His face falls for a moment, you can see him try to figure out asking you to stay but wondering why you’d gone so cold. You hated how a good looking man could fool you into thinking he could be smart. But this one was as daft as they came.

You wave and turn towards the direction of your station, feeling a bitter chill that wasn’t coming from the weather.

***

The next time you see Harry is about a month later. Claire had been seeing Dylan—they hadn’t labelled it according to her so it was still casual. But she felt good about it because he was having a thing at his flat and he’d invited her. So you join Claire since he’d extended the invitation.

“Maybe you’ll see his friend Harry.” She sings as you turn the corner to his street.

“I already told you nothing happened that night.”

“Maybe because you went home after having a marvellous dance-off with him!”

“He kinda got like soggy bread!” You complain. “If it weren’t for me the conversation would have gone stale.”

“Same here. When he spoke to me I mean,” Claire laughs. “Dylan did say he’s a bit shy. Just give him another chance.”

“He’s not interested-“

“You’re so harsh on yourself. Of course he would be! He’d be lucky to be with you…”

You let Claire launch into her tirade. Although you appreciated it, it ignored the fact that someone could just not be interested in you. Especially after fancying your friend first.

Dylan’s flat ends up being nicer than you thought, a lot of windows and fancy tech things around.

“Just call her,” you and Claire walk up to Dylan, Harry, and another guy. Dylan seems to be lecturing Harry on something.

“Call who?” Claire asks.

“Hey,” Dylan kisses her hello. “This girl Harry went to uni with. He bumped into her when she was walking her dog. Harry thinks they hit it off, but he refuses to call her!”

“Why not?!” You and Claire ask. Further proof he wasn’t into you.

“Well I friended her on Instagram and she’s just ignored it!” Harry explains.

“So? Maybe she doesn’t use instagram.” Claire offers.

“She does. I had Dylan request too and she accepted his.”

“Oh?” You notice the pitch change in Claire but nobody else does of course.

“I unfollowed her after,” Dylan says. Or maybe he did hear the change. Smart man.

The friends gathered in the room shift and flow around each other, you lose Claire pretty quickly after the hour mark like you usually did. Eventually it’s you and Harry again, sitting on the couch.

Just like soggy bread, he’s mostly silent with beer in his hand. You get tired of the silence so eventually you slide closer to him.

“So what’s with the girl from uni? Do you have history?”

“Huh?” He seems startled out of his thoughts. “Oh. Her. No we had a few classes, saw her at parties that sort of thing.”

“But it seemed promising when you saw her recently?”

“I think so?”

Poor Harry, he couldn’t even tell the difference.

“What about her number? Or try DM-ing her.”

“I don’t wanna be desperate.”

“Fine,” you think. “Nevermind. She’s probably not into you.”

“But she kept touching my arm,” Harry recalls. “Why would she touch me if she wasn’t interested?”

You look at his physique. It wasn’t anything extraordinary but you can see the temptation to touch his arms.

Meanwhile Harry watches you eye him. It was kind of funny to him. He didn’t know why Claire’s best friend always remained at the end of the night but she was easy to talk to so he didn’t mind. Better than pretending to be interested in whatever Dylan’s tech-bros were talking about.

He hadn’t actually seen Dylan in a while. Probably off with Claire, he thinks with a sigh.

“Yeah nevermind.” Harry hears you say. It’s then he realized he’d tuned you out while his brain had been running. And you had taken his sigh as a response to what you were explaining.

The conversation falls flat after that. And when Harry goes for another drink you decline, deciding it was time to head home.

Surprisingly, Harry says he could use the time away and walks you to the station. Claire was spending the night but mostly he just wanted out of the flat. Walking you a few blocks away was a good enough excuse.

***

A few weeks go by before you find yourself alone with Harry again. It was someone’s birthday, or two people’s. You forgot what exactly was the excuse you took to get out of the house. All you had to know was there were people and an open bar.

Again, you started off in a group but couples drifted away until the two of you remained. You had been standing in Harry’s blind spot so when the last couple leaves, he notices it was you.

“Hey.” Harry says to you but his eyes look out into the room, even his body faces the crowd’s direction. He should have known you were here after seeing Claire cozy up with Dylan.

It should make you feel shittier but you’re almost used to it. After a week of working from home hunched over your table editing photos for yesterday’s deadline you would take any social interaction. No matter how stale. Or soggy.

“Hey!” You elbow him so he looks at you at least. “It's been a while hasn’t it? How’s life treating you these days?”

“Yeah, it's fine.”

“Cool, yeah. Any exciting projects keeping you busy lately or…?”

“Not really. Just the usual keeping me busy right now. Same old routine y’know.”

“Right, right.” You could feel him slip away again. “Yeah. Work can be a drag. I’m pretty sure I gave myself scoliosis being hunched over for 10 hours a day this week. I’d rather fold laundry than do that again, and you probably don’t know this, but I absolute hate folding laundry. But yeah that’s my thrilling life. Anything you've been doing in your free time?”

“Nah. Just trying to stay on top of work.”

“Right.” He was the busiest man on earth apparently. “So everyone at the party’s talking about the new Love Island season. You watch it?”

“Not really into TV these days. Busy with work and all that?”

“Right. You mentioned. I did too.” You nod. “I had a lot of deadlines this week so very busy too. Busy busy. I actually got so stir-crazy I started talking to my plants? It felt silly, but my nan was saying it does help them grow so…it’s a win-win. Or maybe it’s the isolation makes you appreciate the little things…”

“Right.” Harry nods along. He’s looked at you twice this whole time. Well, glanced was more like it. And suddenly you want to scream because it was utterly unfair that you only knew him at any of these godforsaken parties. And he never wanted to talk to you, or cared to.

You’d seen him with Dylan, even with Claire! He was more animated and interested then, even though he stammered through half of it. Was there something wrong with you that put you in gray-scale in this crowd of colourful people?

You’re not Claire, the stupid voice in your head reminds you.

I didn’t need to be Claire, you remind yourself.

“So what about that girl you fancied?” You try to ask him something he might be interested in; you hated how desperate you were getting for company. “From uni? Anything come of that?”

“What?” He finally looks at you. “Oh her. No she uhm. Well embarrassing but she has a bloke. I misread the whole thing-“

“You said she was all touchy!”

“Yeah she was wasn’t she?” He scratches his head. “I dunno, i suppose she’s always been like that. So yeah, nothing happened there.”

He chuckles like he’s embarrassed, yet the smile brightens his face. It makes you a little more upset and you don’t know why.

“Maybe you dodged a bullet. Anyway. I’m gonna make some rounds. I’ll catch you around-“

“What?” He actually turns to you now. “Why?”

“What?!”

“Why you leaving?”

“I’m not leaving. I’m just doing a circle. And getting another drink.”

“Oh,” his shoulders drop a little. You’re confused, because he didn’t seem interested in having you around at all until you were leaving. “Good.”

“I didn’t think you’d miss me if I was gone with your half-ass answers.” You say before you can think. He looks a little stupefied.

“Half-ass?”

“Or were you just being a whole ass?”

“Huh?” He closes the gap between you again. “I was listening to what you were talking about.”

“Yeah. Just listening. It felt like having a conversation with paint while it dried.”

“I’d think that’s better than houseplants?”

You’re a bit stunned—he had been listening. But still. He wasn’t keeping up conversation.

“Now see if you made a joke about it back then it would have been funny. A back-and-forth conversation? Now it’s just a desperate attempt to keep me around. I don’t know what for.”

“It’s not desperate,” he argues. “I didn’t realize you’re so needy.”

You raise a brow, “I am not needy.”

“I think you are,” he grins and with his full attention on you and that stupidly smarmy grin you feel that pull again. Too bad it was just one-sided.

“I’m not. I’ll prove it by leaving your presence for good tonight. See you next time Harry.”

“Don’t be like that,” he calls after you. “And I like to keep you around because I thought we were friends!”

Your stride falters as you’re walking away. You weren’t expecting him to say that.

But wasn’t he just friends because both your friends were dating each other?

What are you even doing here with these people, the thought comes back to you again. The same one that always floated through your mind being in these sorts of places.

If Claire wasn’t dating Dylan you wouldn’t even be here. God, you needed to hang out with friends other than Claire.

***

You unwrap the belt that ties your coat closed and drop it all to the floor. Well not all, your cameras get let down gently.

Your shoulders ached. And your back and your head and your arms. Jeez.

You had a wedding gig that was paying most of this month’s rent, so you had to take it. The only thing is your job started at 6am and ended at 8pm. That was more than half a day and you were spent.

“Hey you’re home!” Claire waves at you as you pass her. She has her phone held out in front of her face, you hear Dylan’s voice on the other end.

“Is that yn? Hii!”

“Hi,” you croak to Dylan. Claire juts her lip out at the sight of you.

“I’ve already done dinner,” she says over the top of the screen. “I’m going out with Dylan and some friends later you wanna come?”

You shake your head. She knows what a low battery yn looked like.

“Okay fine. Leftovers are in the fridge for you.”

“God I love you,” you tell her as you close your bedroom door behind you and collapse into bed.

You liked it when Claire was happy in a relationship, or whatever she called them, but when she wasn’t these were the nights she’d follow you into your room after a big shoot and ask about the details. And you’d complain about the pushy customers eventually moving to how beautiful everything was. She was usually the first person to see your raw images.

But tonight while she talks to Dylan you turn on your humidifier and let the low hushing noise lull you into a relaxing trance. You remember that you only had yourself. That you had to learn to be happy with that, lonely or not.

***

Claire promised to do kitchen duty for the whole week if you came out to Jemima’s partner’s gig. And you couldn’t deny a week of no dishes or meal prep, so you drag your ass out the door despite riding on 4 hours of sleep for the last few nights. But you met your deadline this afternoon so this was as good of a celebration as any. Even if it was a Thursday night.

“So you and Dylan are getting serious huh?” You ask Claire on the tube over.

“Kinda?”

“It’s been over 3 months. Half the time you were with you know who.”

You-know-who, her one relationship that actually meant something to her. Crashed and burned two years ago.

“No,” she blushes. “It’s just, he’s pretty great but we don’t really talk about labels.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Guys always run when you do.”

Do you want that sort of guy, you want to ask. Instead you shrug, “let them.”

She rolls her eyes, accustomed to your biting remarks around men.

The gig is electrifying as soon as you arrive. It gets you moving and your sedentary body remembers it has more flex in it than just your wrist. You’re alive and sweaty a few hours later, happy that you went.

“Hey,” Claire says when you drift back to her. “Dylan said the drummer’s inviting some friends to the place she’s staying at. Wanna come?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” You were high on just being out and around people, the loneliness had been kept at bay, and you didn’t want to ruin that by going home just yet.

The drummer’s place is the bottom floor of a quaint house near Portobello. Most people are already there by the time you trail in behind Claire and Dylan.

“Look there’s Harry!” Claire shouts, pointing to the figure that was become too familiar to you. He’s listening intently to the couple in front of him. Nice to know he could do that.

You flash her a thumbs up. But her and Dylan start walking towards them. Ugh!

You eye the room, thinking you could make a run-in with alcohol instead of Harry but he looks up at the approaching couple and catches your eye. He waves.

Whatever.

The four of you eventually find a quieter room, mostly because there was a hookah circle going on and everyone there was talking in hushed voices. A stark contrast to the volume in the den.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you here.” Harry says when the two of you find yourselves alone again.

“Why not?”

“You didn’t show the last couple times we all hung out. I thought you were tired of us.”

“Maybe I am.” You raise your brow. “Did you miss me?”

“Hey!” Dylan appears in front of you two again before he could answer. “Nish is here, I heard.”

“Nish?” Harry becomes all fidgety.

“Who’s Nish?” You have to ask.

“Someone we know,” Dylan says. You look for Claire and she’s making her way to you. But before she gets there another body steps towards your group.

“Hi! Harry look at you—and Dylan, is it just me or you look more hideous than last time?” The girl cuts in and you take a step back instinctively. The group felt overcrowded.

You watch the two boys hug the new girl, Nish you assume, in greeting.

Claire approaches the group with curiosity.

Introductions are made and Dylan offers to show Nish the drinks.

Then there were three.

“She’s pretty,” you comment. You know Harry agrees what with how much he resembled a ruler.

“Yeah,” he nods stiffly.

“So were you at the gig Harry?” Claire changes the subject. “It was amazing.”

“Yeah! I was there with Dylan and some friends. Surprised I didn’t see you two.”

“Were you dancing?” Claire teases.

“I was,” he blushes. He glances at you. You recall that first night when the two of you had a lot of fun just dancing. “Maybe that’s why I missed you guys.”

You give a small smile at the in-joke. He looks back to Claire.

You all talk about the gig, and then a little about someone similar Harry was working with.

Eventually Claire wonders aloud where Dylan had gotten to and leaves.

And then there were two.

“I get this feeling something’s going to happen,” you say.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

You shrug, you didn’t quite know. The whole night was moving so fast, especially after the gig. You just had a sense you missed something and it was bothering you.

“Have you got a drink yet?” Harry asks.

“No, maybe I should.”

“Me too. I’m done mine. I think I want another.”

As you walk down the hall to where it might logically be, you hear a shout. Your stomach drops. Was this it?

“I’m sorry wait!” Someone shouts over the noise. The overall noise dies down a bit quieter. “It’s not what it-“

“Fuck off! I’m done!”

“Shite,” you recognized Claire’s voice anywhere. You rush past Harry and towards the voices.

You find Dylan shirtless and holding it against his chest. Nish is a little ways behind him, hair a lot messier than when you last saw her. Buttons undone on her dress.

You notice the lipstick on Dylan’s neck. A colour Claire would never wear.

Everything snaps into place.

You rush to Claire and try to comfort her but she hurls more insults towards Dylan over your shoulder. You manage to get her out of his sight and she fights you too, she was seething with anger.

“He’s a dick!” She screams. “Why did I think he was going to be any different oh my god! I shouldn’t have let him go alone with her, what was I thinking? Yn! Why didn’t you stop me!”

You knew it was all rhetorical. Claire rarely took romantic advice from you.

“He tried to say we weren’t even a couple I-“ her voice catches and then comes the tears. You pull her in, familiar with the routine. Next would be feeling sorry for herself, then the anger again, then telling you she needed to be alone. Then a few hours would pass before she crawled back to needing comfort again.

And it happens just so.

“I don’t need a mother right now!” Claire says as you convince her to stay with you. To head home. “I just need to clear my head! I’m sorry okay I just want to be alone!”

And you let her go.

And now you had to kill time.

You find a beer and down it. Someone nearby asks you what the drama was about and you strike up a conversation that ends in them trying to kiss you. Ew.

You wander until you find Harry again. He’s surprised you’re still here. Asks where Claire was but as you respond one of the girls from the band recognizes Harry—you’re pretty sure her name is Kate. Soon enough you’re sidelined while they talk about something you knew nothing about.

Well fuck him too, you think miserably.

You grab one of the few remaining cans and head to the back of the house. Past open doors and closed doors. The closed door intrigues you at the end of the hall.

The doorknob is stuck so you wiggle it. Probably locked.

You were tired. God, you were tired of it all.

In a moment of anger you bang your shoulder against the door and magically it opens.

It wasn’t locked, just stuck due to age.

Same, you think.

Inside is the smallest room you’ve ever seen. The size of 1.5 closets. There looks like a childs bed, the walls are covered in posters, and there’s a small set of drawers with a guitar resting on top. It’s cramped but cozy, something about it feels familiar.

You step inside and close the door.

Down goes another beer.

You hope the person who owned the room didn’t mind you crashing it. You lay in bed and let out a big sigh. And then another. It felt good. Cleansing.

You listen to the noises outside, people laughing and talking. You think about Claire. About yourself. All of your several issues combined. The dull ache of loneliness starts in your ribcage and spreads out.

The door handle rattles a few times but eventually you realize nobody’s angry enough to smash it open like you. Most people assumed it’s locked and leave.

You’re taken by surprise then the door does creak open a smidge.

Distant light travels through to paint a multi-coloured line across the floor and over the bed. You lift your fingers to touch it but it feels like everything else.

“Of course you’re in here; I wondered where you went to.” Harry reveals his face by opening the door wider, poking his head in. It looks like it’s floating and the image almost makes you laugh. Almost.

“Why?” You ask in your most disinterested voice.

He takes the question, despite it dripping with apathy, as an invitation. The door remains opened a crack, now just with Harry on the inside.

“Because you disappeared.”

“You started talking to Kate so I made my exit. Did she go home?”

“No.” He inches closer after closing the door. You have no idea how he knew exactly where you were and how to get in. With the door closed it’s not so dark that you can’t make out his figure. But he’s a shadow in the dark.

“Can you sit or something? It’s kind of creepy having you hover like that in the dark.”

“Sorry,” he laughs and again, he overextends the invitation and lays parallel to you. He’s close, with the bed being so small. Your ache spreads. “Kate’s dancing with another bloke.”

“Poor Harry.” You mock. “Every pretty lady wants to dance with someone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I have this special ability to read between the lines.”

“Well my specialty is reading between the sheets.”

The comment lands like a third person on the bed. It’s a withering creature a cross between a baby and a calf. He scoops it off with, “sorry. I really don’t know where that came from.”

You laugh. It was so silly for something so bold to come out of his mouth.

“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be that bold before. Usually I just watch you fumble around and finish up thoughts inside your head instead of out loud-“

“I do do that don’t I?”

“You said do do,” you giggle.

“Very mature.”

“Very manure.” Your giggles turn into a laugh, something’s cracked inside of you and it feels funnier than it probably is.

Harry nudges you with his elbow and it silences your laugh. It’s abrupt, and he notices. “Why’d you come in here anyway?” He asks. “I thought you’d be with Claire.”

“Were you looking for her? You could be with Claire now y’know,” you say. Some part of you knew you’re tipsy and you should shut up but in the darkness your cutting words feel blunted.

“What’s that mean?”

“Dylan the dick—that’s his new nickname just fyi. He fumbled the bag. She’s free for the taking now.”

“I feel like this violates some sort of girl-code. Shouldn’t you be warning me away?”

You scoff, “Harry don’t be coy. Everyone knows you tried to get together that first night we all met. You always look at her like a lost puppy.”

“I don’t.”

“Do so.”

“What’s it to you?“

You shrug. He’s close enough to feel it.

You were upset tonight. Angry. Angry at Dylan for being another a-hole. Angry at Claire for putting yet another man on a pedestal with all his potential he could never reach. They hadn’t labelled themselves for 3 months, what did she expect would happen?

Mostly you were upset at yourself. Because a part of you watched Claire put herself out there over and over, and you were upset that you couldn’t do the same. That your shallow bruises compares to Claire’s gashes had kept you locked up in your bedroom.

You admit it to yourself then: you kind of liked Harry. And you totally and absolutely hated it.

Because you watched him watch Claire, fumble his words with every woman you catch him with, push him away just so you don’t potentially get hurt. A part of you knows he wouldn’t like you like that. He treats you like you’re part of the furniture half the time. He’s given no indication of the sort. And you just weren’t the kind of girl to leave a confession like that hanging. You didn’t want a public unrequited crush.

It comes again. The wave of loneliness, the feeling that nobody ever has or ever will understand you. That you were an island with no dock, a house with no door. You were unknowable, and unforgettable.

“Why don’t I ever hear about your relationship exploits?” Harry suddenly asks. You forgot he was there and you startle. “Sorry were you falling asleep?”

“No.” You answer. “And because…because I’m not showy about that sort of thing. And it also doesn’t happen as often as you or Claire or Dylan the dick.”

“Wow the name’s really gonna stay.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have a boyfriend now?”

“Nope.”

“What’s your last actual relationship?”

“A long time ago.”

“Me too.” He sighs. “My last proper girlfriend was in my early 20s. She moved city. We broke up after that, long-distance is hard. I feel like every year I age, I get worse at talking to women.”

“I can confirm.”

“Well not you. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Not like that.” He backtracks, sitting up as if you could see his face. “No not like that. You’re…nice. To look at. I don’t mean that I don’t see you as a women—because you are. I see that I uhm-“

“I think you’ll have to take back your previous statement.”

His head falls back on his pillow and he laughs, it sounds like he’s choking on air a little.

“Jeez, what was that?” He asks once he pulls himself together.

“Beats me,” you say with a smirk.

“It gets pretty lonely though right.”

You let his statement sit in the dark. You don’t agree or disagree. Doing so felt like admitting something vulnerable.

“Or maybe that’s just me.” He says after a while. “Maybe you have a great life and don’t fall in love with every other person you meet.”

“Do you actually?” Your interest was piqued.

“I can’t help it. I’m a musician, I just notice something small about them and suddenly a song is being written about them in my head without even realizing. So I just fall in love with a lot of random people. And I uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to anyone!”

It was the dark. It was easier to be honest in it. No wonder churches kept their confessions in darkened corners.

You think about all the regular people you fall in love with every time you lift your camera to your face. How every person made you ache; there were whole worlds going on inside of them and you saw it all through the lens.

You wonder briefly if Harry ever wrote a song about you in his head but squash it. He barely took the time to look at you, definitely not long enough to notice you like you did him.

“Here’s my confession—same.” You try for the confession-in-the-dark thing. To make him feel better. “At least when I’m taking photos or making videos. Some people get camera shy but after talking to them they loosen up and getting to capture their whole essence in a picture or a video I just…makes me fall in love too. I like to imagine what everyone would be like in front of a camera. I dunno.”

“What a pair we make.” Harry reaches out and his hand brushes yours. You pull away, hating yourself while you do.

He clears his throat when you reject his bid to be closer, you feel his hand slide back to himself.

Harry didn’t know why sometimes it felt like you hated him and other times like you were friends. He just figured he didn’t understand women. On any spectrum.

“Y/n,” your name is loaded in the dark. You wait for him to continue but the silence stretches out.

“What?” You finally ask.

You feel the bed shift and move under you. He was turning. You feel his gaze on you. You turn your head to look back and he’s inches away. Alarms blare in your head, abort abort! But even in the darkness his eyes find some light to reflect.

Harry’s thinking the same thing about you. Somehow it’s dark but when you turn your head to look at him, your eyes twinkle with what little moonlight streams in from the window. Or maybe that was the streetlights. Either way, Harry wonders why it felt like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. How ironic that it’s in the dark too.

It happens without realizing, his mind starts to string together something about the girl laying in his bed shrouded in darkness, with light in her eyes. A girl with secrets-

The bed vibrates.

“Oh,” you turn away and take the intimate moment with you. You feel around and find your phone beside you. Claire’s face lights up the screen.

“Claire,” you sit up.

“I’m ready to go home,” Claire sniffles on the other end. “Where are you?”

“At the party. You’re still at the party right?”

“I’m just outside. I got some chips but I couldn’t find you so I finished them all.”

You laugh, “Lie. I know how you feel about sharing chips don’t worry.”

Harry watches you have this conversation. Your laugh finds its way right into his chest. He feels warm.

You look at him and hold your finger up, shimming off the foot of the bed.

“You bought two!?” You ask after Claire sniffles about how much she emotionally ate tonight.

“It’s your fault! I ate two because I couldn’t find you and they were getting cold.”

“Well I’m coming outside to save you now.”

You put the phone down and look back at Harry. He’s sat up in the bed and staring at you.

“I gotta go weirdo.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Well…I dunno if we’ll see each other as much now that-“

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“So good luck? Until next time?” You laugh, but an awkwardness starts to creep in as Harry stays unresponsive and staring on the bed. “Uhm. Okay?? Bye…”

You leave Harry as he is. Did he get all weird because Claire was on the phone? Ugh. What a liar, you think. He was still just as obsessed with her.

You feel a little bad for goading him about it earlier but it doesn’t linger long. When you see Claire you gather her up in your arms and then the two of you set off arm-in-arm back to your small flat together.

***

“So what’s happening with Kate?” Dylan asks. Harry and him are sat at the pub a few weeks later, he’s already moved on from Claire to the girl on his arm. He didn’t know how his friend did it, if Harry had a girl like Claire he wouldn’t treat her like she was disposable.

But thinking of Claire didn’t have that same spark anymore. When he thought about it, she was beautiful and spirited, the kind of woman musicians like him write songs about. But there was someone else on his mind, the kind of woman someone could spend their whole career trying to compartmentalize into songs. Songs turning into albums. Only to find nothing beats her living spirit.

How could he be so dumb, he’d been beating himself up since that night in the dark. He’d had 3 months of being around her and he never actually looked at her. Always took her for granted. God, even that first night together had been the most fun Harry had had in ages. But he’d just turned her into a friend by proximity.

But weeks gone without her, knowing there was only pure chance of bumping into her, had made Harry a regretful heart.

“Hello? Did you scare her off?” Dylan asks.

“Nah. She’s not my type.” Harry responds.

“Harry I should set you up with one of my mates. She’d be perfect for you. She’s a teacher and…”

Harry listens to Dylan’s new girl describe a friend Harry couldn’t be arsed to go out with. All because he wanted something he couldn’t have anymore.

***

Harry runs into Claire at a pub a week later. His hopes soar as high as the sky when he thinks y/n might be here.

“Hi! Claire!” Harry awkwardly stops her as she walks past the bar where he sits. He was waiting for a few of his mates to watch the football match with. Dylan was luckily out of town today, otherwise this pub would have it’s roof blown off.

“Oh Harry hi,” she’s friendly. Harry didn’t think she’d be friendly towards him. She leans in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Good! Ehm good yeah just making more music and stuff. You?”

“Better,” she rolls her eyes. “How’s Dylan the-“

“I’d rather not be in the middle. If that’s alright.” Harry says before he can think. He knew what his friend was, he didn’t want to talk about him.

“Fine.” She crosses her arms. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Watching the game?”

“Sorta. My family’s down and I know y/n hates the ruckus my brothers make watching the game at home so I’m sticking them here.”

“Oh y/n’s not here?” Harry feels his hope evaporating.

“No. What’s the deal with you and her anyway? Why didn’t you ever…?”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah!”

“She’s not interested in me,” Harry laughs. He was also blind but he doesn’t say that.

“I mean, maybe not crazily but if you asked she would have said yes. She didn’t hate you.”

“Is that the standard now?” Harry jokes.

“It is with her,” she smiles with a look in her eye like there was more there. But of course, Harry doesn’t push.

“I…I dunno. I never thought she would be interested. It never occurred to me.”

“You’re such a guy,” she scolds. “You have anyone now or you’re still regularly putting your foot in your mouth?”

Harry flushes. “I don’t. And I don’t put my foot in my mouth.”

She rolls her eyes but the smile stays on her face. “Anyway, I’m grabbing the beers. I’ll talk to you later?”

Harry nods, suddenly unable to just ask for y/n’s number. Anything.

But as she walks away he realizes he’d had a whole conversation with Claire without overthinking or being a fumbling idiot once.

He thinks back, to the last couple weeks. He realizes it’s been a while since he’s done it.

Was I finally turning a corner, Harry thinks.

***

You had a gig today filming at a studio. Some indie duo but they were gaining popularity on Tiktok and wanted some bts footage of working in the studio for an upcoming music video. You weren’t going to ask questions. It paid decent money so you said yes.

You pull into the parking lot, grateful that Claire had a car you could borrow. It helped lugging around your equipment for videoshoots. Today it was just you as your PA was out sick. It wasn’t supposed to be a lot of angles so you figured it would be okay.

You consider the day a win by the time you pack up. The group were much younger than you but very outgoing and it made for a lot of funny and sweet footage. They also had amazing voices, you told them they were going on your playlists once you got home.

Your right hand goes weightless as you walk with your bags down the hall. You turn just as the helper speaks up.

“Looked like you could use a hand.”

“Harry I…what a surprise hi!” Your mood brightens at the sight of him, despite everything.

“Hi,” he shifts the bag in his hand to return your hug. His body is solid and warm. It made no sense but you missed something about him. “How was your shoot?”

“Really good! I was shooting a…wait how did you know?”

“I saw you in there?”

“I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah I um-“

“You had nothing to do with this right?”

“And if I did?” He meets your eye and you feel out of breath with whatever speaks through them. What was up with that?

“Uhmm I owe you a thank you!?!”

Harry offers a small smile, “I was looking at your work a couple weeks back. You’re really good. I just threw your name out to a few managers if they were looking for someone…”

Harry looks different with this new information. Or maybe this was a Harry that was actually paying attention to you, it was both intimidating and touching.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

“No! No, thank you I…that’s…I’m grateful. Thank you. Can I get you a drink to say thanks?”

“Okay cuz your face was all scrunched up. I thought you were pissed.” He laughs. “And I have some things to finish up-“

“Oh right, you’re probably busy-“

“No no I would love to. Get drinks. With you.” Harry grows more awkward as the air between you crackles with something electric. Maybe, he thought, this is what happens when two people are on the same wavelength.

“Ok. Well when do you finish?”

Harry doesn’t quite hear your question. His head feels flooded with sand and he can’t stop looking at you, right in front of him finally. Why did he never notice your eyes and the way they take him in, your sweetness, the easygoing tilt of your head, or how how disarming your smile was. He chalked it up to being an idiot.

“Wait what-“ he laughs, feeling the blood flush his face. He was doing that thing again, where his brain stopped thinking in the attention of a pretty girl. “What’d you ask?”

“When you finish?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy yourself. You can feel the element of nervousness from him and it made this casual moment feel more intense.

“Maybe half hour?” Harry scratches his nose. “Are you heading somewhere now? You can hang out with me and we can go together?”

You thought about getting to see him work, it sounded promising. “Sure!”

Harry wipes his palm on his jeans and walks ahead, leading you down the hall and to the right. He opens it to a recording studio, gesturing to the chairs and taking the seat behind all the buttons. You set your things down and stand by the panel, curious what each of the controls did.

Harry glances up at you and you shoot a smile, about to ask if it was okay you watch, but he goes back to work just as quickly.

He was working on something that sounded like a pop song. You try to make out all the layers on the software he was using, it kind of looked the same when you edited a video. But there’s too many layers to distinguish.

Eventually you sit back down, admiring Harry in his element. Your mind drifts, and you wonder if everything that happened out in the hallway was a figment of your imagination or Harry was being weird with you. Because the thing about Harry being weird meant he was in his head about one thing.

You wonder, like you did every so often, what could have happened that night in the dark the last time you saw him if Claire hadn’t called. Harry had looked at you like he had just met you—with a good curiosity.

But then again, this was the same Harry that probably looked at Claire with the same look.

“Done.” Harry turns in his swivel chair with a grin an hour or so later.

“Great!” You shake off your thoughts and set your laptop down.

“Did you want to leave your things here?”

“I have a car I can put them in?”

“The place I was gonna take you to isn’t that far from here.”

So you agree, and leave your equipment in the studio. The two of you walk out, talking about what he was working on. He asks you about your shoot today and the conversation carries you to the pub he had picked out.

Conversation starts to fizzle out as you tuck into your booth seat.

“What you guys getting today?” The waitress appears almost instantly, it startles you.

You look at the menu and to her. She’s got a beautiful face, round cheeks framed by micro bangs and night-black eyebrows that made her look permanently unimpressed. And yet her rosy cheeks and button nose were a friendly addition to the severity of the rest of her.

You glance at Harry, ready for him to be a bumbling idiot around her. He glances at you from the menu when he senses you looking over and for a second you feel the loneliness creep in. Despite the warm smile he sends your way.

“Can we get a few more minutes?” Harry asks her. She pockets her things without another word and walks away.

“What’s good here?” You ask to fill the silence.

The two of you go over the menu and by the time the waitress returns you’re ready. You watch Harry ask her questions and place the order, confident and direct. His eyes slide to yours every so often and each time they do you feel your resolve slip a little more.

“What’s changed then Harry?” You tease when she leaves. You tease, but you seriously want to know. “I thought you’d be a puddle of words around a woman that gorgeous.”

“Her?” Harry glances back. “I guess. I’m not such a mess.”

“Oh you so are.” You laugh. “You’re all ums and uhs.”

“I’m…fine. I’m not so bad anymore!”

“Yeah so? What happened?”

He looks at you with such a serious look that your smile dies down.

“Drinks,” the waitress places them down on the table, saving the both of you from whatever would have come next.

“Thanks,” you tell her and pull the distraction towards you.

“Let’s just say,” Harry says after she leaves. “I gained some perspective.”

You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to push it any more. “Okay.”

For the first time in a while, your nerves overtake the anxious discomfort you usually lived with. Something was definitely happening here—you weren’t hallucinating. But you weren’t sure where it was going, and if you wanted it.

Of course you want it, stop convincing yourself otherwise, you tell yourself.

Why did vulnerability feel like facing mount everest in just your pjs.

“I bumped into Claire a few weeks ago, she seems to be doing well.” Harry says and you can’t help but overanalyze for a heartbeat. He’d brought Claire up after all.

“Oh she didn’t mention,” you reply.

“She was with her family? Said you kicked them out of the flat-“

“Oh!” You laugh. “Yeah her brothers get stupidly rowdy when the football’s on. This one time I had an interview early the next morning and—this was before I knew how loud they could get. And I was up. Until 2am nearly to tears! Finally I snapped, they call it the y/n-geddon. Then of course I felt so bad I couldn’t sleep for another two hours. Now we just draw boundaries.”

Harry laughs at your story. “Sounds scary. Now it makes sense though.”

“Better for everyone,” you laugh. “But yeah. Claire’s been good, it was nice her family was down she’s always more herself when they do.”

Your food arrives and you put the conversation on pause as you tuck in.

“How about you?” Harry asks. “Your family?”

You tell him about your family and the conversation moves on to moving out, living in the city. It branches out naturally like a tree, and both of you relax into each other’s company.

It was really nice, you admit to yourself. It felt like talking to an actual person rather than the shell of someone. Which is how it felt like talking to Harry in the past. The only soggy bread was the butty dipped in your soup.

You pay, as you insist it was to thank him for the help. It’s cooler out when you had back to the studio for your things and there’s more people out; those free of their office jobs and roaming for a drink to relax into.

The studio’s empty and you head towards your bags, asking Harry if he was heading home too.

“Yeah, I’ve been here since 6 so I think I’m ready to go home.”

“Shite that’s early!”

“Deadlines!” He sighs. “What can ya do.”

“Can I give you a ride somewhere at least?”

“If you’re going in the direction of the station I’ll hop in.”

“Yeah sure!”

“Good thing you have a car with all that equipment.”

“Yeah my thoughts this morning. But that reminds me of all the footage I have to edit.” You say. “Thanks to you.”

“Anytime. Anytime y/n. I’m gonna keep whispering your name around. You’ll be fully booked soon just watch and see.”

“You don’t have to,” you set your things back on the ground. It didn’t seem like Harry was in a hurry to get out.

“I want to,” he replies seriously. The room feels smaller than it did seconds ago, or maybe the awareness of Harry’s proximity tightened the space between you.

“Thanks,” you try to meet his eye as you say it but it’s hard to. His gaze strips away any doubt you had; his feelings are written all over his face. All you could think was: Holy Fuck what is this

“It’s my pleasure,” he says which just sucks any remaining oxygen out of the room.

When you’re on autopilot you don’t even think, you just go through the motions. That’s what it felt like, one second you’re standing opposite Harry. The next you’re standing right in front of him and his lips are on yours.

Maybe you just imagined this scene so much it became repetitive and now this—kissing him, felt so familiar.

He’s nothing like the timid and awkward Harry you watch at parties and pubs. He’s sure of himself, kissing you in the exact way to soothe your past aches; your loneliness is washed away like ocean tides over words etched in the sand. You get lost in it. In him.

You don’t know when his hands slide around your waist and pull you in. His lips are soft and gentle. Your mind blanks as the sensation of being held, of his touch, spreads. You don’t realize you stop kissing back, just for a second, until he pulls away.

Harry takes a deep breath, face pink and brows furrowed. This felt right, but was he reading it wrong? He did that often.

You take a small step back, needing the space to process. It felt right, better than your imagination, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him.

“So um,” you bite your lip. “You still want that ride?”

“Where is it going?” He asks, the tightness in his chest easing a little when you look up at him, head tilted and a nervous expression on. He wasn’t reading it wrong. Both of you were just a little overwhelmed.

“Anywhere you want it to. I was thinking it could go home.”

“Mmm,” he nods. “Home sounds nice.”

With a smile exchanged, he lifts most of your equipment to the car. You have to take a beat outside the car just to force your brain to go from scrambled to whole so you can manage the drive home. It took every ounce of concentration.

Claire’s not home when you get there and you’re so grateful for that. Firstly, you just wanted to get him back into your bedroom. Secondly, you wanted this just between the two of you. At least for today.

You drop her a text in case, like you two usually did. You tell her you had company over.

The rest of the night can be spent uninterrupted.

You set everything in the living room and take Harry back to your bedroom.

He looks around curiously, taking in the photos on the walls and the things on the dresser.

You watch him, feeling a little exposed. he was looking. Seeing. You. It was different. Good different.

Harry looks at you with a question and you answer by closing the space between you; he reaches his arms out and your body is engulfed by him. Your lips meet, this time less hesitant.

It’s not long before Harry pulls you towards the bed, falling backwards with you on top of him. You straddle his hips and kiss him like a teenager. You feel his fingers brush your waist and tug at the bottom of your top.

It’s off in an instant and you try to hide the smile as Harry takes in the sight of you, his eyes filling with awe. He was such a dork. But it made you feel empowered, and seen. You reach for his shirt and he lets you take it off.

When you lean forward again, chests pressed together, his hands find the small of your back. They trace circles there, sending shivers up your spine.

You take the cue and kiss him slowly, rocking your hips against him. He gasps, his hands tightening as you trail kisses along his neck.

The sounds he makes go straight to your core and you feel the familiar flutter that tells you to hurry. You move back, undoing his jeans and helping him slide them off.

“You’re alright with this?” He breathes into your skin.

Your heart thuds in your ribcage, but mostly from anticipation; you never realized how long you wanted this for. Wanted him.

“Of course,” you pause and so does he. “Took you long enough.”

With a wry smile he covers your mouth with his and soon the two of you find a rhythm that no song could compete with. You find company in someone you’d sworn could never be yours.

It’s bliss.

***

The sun filters through the window and casts a warm light across your floor.

You were in your own bed, and in the middle of the mattress with a leg thrown over the edge was Harry, sound asleep. Tbe weight of his arm over your waist and the steady sound of his breathing is the proof you needed that this was real. He was real.

The two of you hadn't bothered to get dressed last night. It was an unspoken understanding that this wasn’t the end.

You turn onto your side; it was a nice view.

It was a nice morning, actually. The first morning in a while where you not only woke to a warm body, but one that felt like it belonged. That wasn’t going anywhere

Claire must be somewhere in the flat, you realize. You hadn’t heard her come in.

Harry starts to stir as light fills the room. His eyes squint open and his left hand comes up to cover his face.

You reach over to run your fingers through his hair and he sighs, his face relaxing into a smile.

Harry turns to you, eyes finally open and alert and your heart thumps happily.

There was no need for words.

You snuggle closer and he wraps an arm around you. You bury your face into his neck and breathe in his scent.

He laughs quietly, his chest rumbling under you. You kiss him and he responds in kind.

This time there was no rush.

The morning was warm, and so were you.

5 months later

You get there early, you wanted a moment before the guests to take in your accomplishment. Sure you’d been published on websites and magazines before. Your dream has always been to live forever on an album cover. And you’d finally done it.

The venue was a sparkly room thanks to all the disco balls. They contrasted against the rich fabric and wood beams all over the space.

You take a ton of pictures to send to your friends and family.

You mingle with guests as they come in, trying not to give in too much to the hollowed out feeling that came with a string of strangers and the tiresome small talk. You smile and introduce yourself, you know this was how connections were made. In rooms like this.

You feel him come in as you give in to a second drink. You’re at the bar, and your eyes lift up to the entrance and there’s Harry. Your Harry.

Harry’s eyes skim the crowd looking for someone. His someone. No other person mattered until he could locate her. That’s how it felt these days. A million faces could blur by but hers was the one he looked for every time.

He sees her. Looking at him. Of course she’s already spotted him.

You watch as his face splits into an eager smile, his hand raising above his head.

Harry was like fresh lemonade poured into a cup of ice, all of the tiring talks and fake smiles from before vanish as you drink him in. He’s looking at you, only you. You’re looking at only him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says as a greeting.

“That’s alright,” you peck his lips. “I was just taking a breather.”

“Is the band here? My phone died on the ride so I couldn’t check in.”

“I thought I saw one of them somewhere in that crowd,” you point to the right.

Harry had gotten you this gig. It was the third thing he’d helped you get and slowly you were able to take on less and less wedding and marketing jobs and focus on the music industry. It filled your days and nights with passion-fuelled hard work. You loved every second of it.

And when you weren’t working, you spent time with Harry. It had been 5 months since you started dating. Neither of you questioned what your labels were. You just knew there was nothing else you two could be.

You teased him a lot, how he took the long way to finally recognize the truth. But he made up for it all the time. He made sure you knew how you were the only one for him.

“That is one perfect album,” Harry slips his hand around your waist. Your photograph is blown out to a tapestry and hangs in the middle of the space. It was a sophomore album for the band and with their debut a hit, this tapestry was going to be signed and auctioned. Eventually it would sit somewhere, your photograph, coveted as a piece of music history.

“This is unreal,” you squeeze Harry. “How amazing is it that we both got to work on this album in our own specialties?”

“A perfect match I’d say,” he kisses you.

“What a pair we make,” you grin.

“I see many more shared projects in our future,” Harry promises.

“I’d like that.” It was one of the things you loved about being with Harry, your creativity and how both of you shared a similar industry at times. It brought you closer together, swapping ideas and stories.

“One day I’m going to need album art for the EP I release.”

“Ooh yes,” you clutch his arm. Lately Harry has been spending some times with his head in a brand new notebook, he said he was working on his personal project. “I can’t wait for that day. I have so many ideas of styling you.”

You had a particular image that sat on your phone from the very first night you met. One where he’s dancing alone in a crowd, red lighting casting half his face in shadow and the other in a vibrant scarlet. His eyes are closed and his brows scrunched as his body flows with movement, even in a still picture. You adored it. It was one of the best photos you ever took.

“Me?” Harry looks down at you. He knew whatever songs he pulled together for an EP would be about you. His rush to write recently were from all the time spent being in your presence. It was intense, it had only been 5 months of dating, but somehow he thought you might understand. “I was thinking the cover art could be the subject of my songs.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “How do you feel about self-portraits?”

Your face grows slack as it dawns on you. He had a whole EP in mind, about you.

“Well?” He twitches his hand on your waist, tugging you a little closer.

“Self-portraits sound a bit lonely,” you will your eyes not to tear up.

“But you won’t be,” Harry tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have me. You won’t ever be lonely.”

“I know,” you feel the emotion catch in your throat as you gaze up into his photographic eyes. You can’t explain it but your body feels grounded—more grounded than it’s ever been. Here in his arms you felt together, like you were a book finally finding a shelf to lean on.

The two of you stand side by side and look at the people this collaborative masterpiece brought together. The room fills with the energy of the music. It was special.

"I love you," Harry reminds you.

"I love you too," you respond.

Your life hadn’t change all at once, not really. The biggest thing that changed was Harry. His presence, his attitude, his attention—it shifted. He wasn’t just a guy on the periphery, in proximity. He had you in his sights and he in yours.

You noticed small new things about him, and you wondered if everyone did. He was more confident and present, rooted to and with you. Both of you had bloomed, like caterpillars into butterflies. A pair of butterflies—you should tell him that.

Sometimes you thought you were just born lonely, it’s how it always was and has been. With Harry, you felt less lonely. You felt like things could really change for you.

You extend your hand to him and motion to the dance floor. It was a tradition now—no dance floor would go unmarked by the two of you.

He takes your hand and you lead him there. And with you in his arms he feels set free, like always.

Out of the cocoon and into the embrace of belonging, two butterflies dance in plain sight.

[cloudcountry]

Thank you for the 5 stages of grief response! I recently found this and thanks to your writing I have now passed away from joy.

Anyways, you know how each of the dorm leaders like to use their power to spoil their own s/o's? I need that for Jamil. Let's say 3rd year rolls around, character development happens (particularly on Kalim's part), and Jamil is the housewarden just the way God intended. He's great at it, puts Scarabia back in the running with the other dorms, and now has more free time cause Kalim is actually being a helpful vice (ah character development) and he's learned to delegate (sweet sweet character development).

Point is, how does Housewarden Jamil use his newfound privileges to spoil his s/o?

SUMMARY: you're dating housewarden jamil!!

COMMENTS: IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT!!! i had lots of fun writing it ehehe <33

anyways, you know how each of the dorm leaders like to use their power to spoil their own s/o's? my first thought was getting more of tart because you're dating riddle JSDJSDJD

Jamil looks back on everything that has happened to him over the past year with a lens of scrutiny. He still isn’t sure if he’s dreaming or not, just like the day you confessed, just like the day he was announced as Housewarden, just like the day when he received a position over Kalim because of his own talents, not pity or underhanded tactics.

He still cooks meals for the whole dorm, but he swears it feels different. Maybe it’s because you’re there, staying out of his way as he works and handing him utensils and spices he asks for. Maybe it’s because it’s a choice he makes now, a way to keep some semblance of routine, and not an obligation he has to shoulder.

He gives you the first taste every time. He hand feeds it to you, watching with lovestruck eyes as you smile and hum, cheeks stuffed full and the corners of your eyes crinkling in bliss. It’s domestic and it’s so him, the love in each dish pouring into your mouth and warming your very soul.

When Kalim insists on holding a parade, you’re front and center along with Jamil. He insists on having you by his side, wearing your dorm uniforms as you cheer and clap to the music. Rest assured, if you’re not in Scarabia, he’ll have a uniform fitted for you just so you can participate and not overheat.

Kalim insists on using his own power for you too, much to Jamil’s chagrin. It doesn’t matter if you tell Kalim it’s fine, you don’t need what he’s offering—he’ll still find a way to give it to you. Some things may change but others stay the same, and you’ll know that all too well when you see another gift from Kalim on your bed.

Speaking of the people who surround Jamil, it’s kinda funny how Azul hasn’t eased off his flattery even though Jamil is Housewarden now. It’s nice that Jamil can shut him down with the “I’m literally Housewarden.” line, but that doesn’t stop Azul. His persistence makes you giggle whenever Jamil brings it up with exasperation.

Now that Jamil is older, he feels more confident with you. He still has a lot to learn and a lot to get used to, he knows, but he doesn’t feel like a blushing schoolboy anymore when he holds your hand. Right now, he’s just a man who loves you.

He certainly thinks he’s lucky to have you, someone who stuck by him after seeing the ugliest parts of him, the parts he tried to keep under wraps and hidden away in favor of his persona. Originally, he doubted whether you really loved him or Kalim’s servant, but with time you pried him open and slid into his heart.

It leaves him in a daze, to be honest. He isn’t sure how he let this happen—how he let you in, far more than he was planning to. He watches you as you brush your teeth, as you eat, as you stare up at the night sky and point to two stars and say “look Jamil, it’s us,” and thanks those two stars that you’re with him right now.

He knows when he has a good thing in his life. He knows when his life is better because of that thing. He knows it’s you and everything you embody, from patience to resilience to love. And he’ll love you in its purest form, giving with expecting anything back, because it's you and he knows you’ll never leave him hanging.

-> jamil's jewels . . . @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

[milfhunter6698]

Under pressure pt3

synopsis: Upon joining the NYC firm as a new associate, you quickly find yourself facing the pressure of working under the firm’s star senior partner, Victoria neuman. With a reputation for excellence and an eye for potential, she was searching for a junior partner who can meet her exacting standards. You, with your impressive credentials and unwavering ambition, seemed like a perfect fit…until the pressure of meeting those high expectations started taking their toll. 

Warnings: 18+ eventual smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, fluff, angst, teasing, hurt & comfort, power imbalance, slight AU, some similarities to cannon, mentions of the boys characters (Hughie), slight age gap, rival associates, young!reader, older!Victoria, slow-burn, infidelity.

notes: So what do we think so far? I would love to hear yalls thoughts. As the story progresses, you'll notice changes in how the characters interact with each other. Like i said in the beginning this is an AU this means that while it kind of shares some similarities with the original show, it's not following the exact same storyline. And i’m not only changing the plot, but also adding and altering the characters and the world they live in. Anyway now that i’ve got that out of the way i just wanna say thanks for all the support. And I’ll be posting a new chapter every Sunday & Wednesday, alsoooo i made a playlist that really matches the themes of this story lmk if you want me to drop it now have fun reading!

chapter 1 & 2

wc: 3.3k

The following days at the firm felt different, though you tried to keep things as routine as possible. Arriving early, burying yourself in work, and avoiding thinking too much about that night at the gala—the subtle glances, the fleeting touches, and the way Victoria’s presence made you feel more alive and more uncertain all at once.

Still, you couldn’t shake it. The way she’d looked at you. You couldn’t deny the excitement it brought, but you knew better. You had your girlfriend, and despite your recent troubles, you weren’t about to let yourself cross a line you’d regret.

You sat at your desk poring over more paperwork, Victoria approached, a folder in her hand. She leaned against the edge of your desk, her fingers almost brushing yours over the papers you’re working on. “You did well with that Garent case. I think you’re ready to take on more responsibility.”

Her compliment should have felt purely professional, but there was something in the way she said it that left you feeling a bit off-balance.

“Thanks,” You replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’ll keep pushing forward.”

She smiled. “Good. I like people who know how to take initiative.” Her eyes lingered on you a second too long before she turned and walked away.

The rest of the day went by without incident, but you couldn’t help replaying the interaction in your mind. Are you just imagining things, or was there something more in her words, in the way she carried herself around you now?

You were ready to wrap up your day when Victoria stopped by again. She lingered at the door, leaning against the frame like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“A few of us are grabbing drinks tonight,” she said, her tone casual but with that undertone of invitation. “You should join us.”

For a second, you were tempted. The long hours at the firm had started to blur, and a drink sounded like exactly what you needed. But then you thought of your girlfriend —how hard she had worked to forgive you, how she had given you another chance when things felt broken.

You cleared your throat. “Thanks, Victoria, but I think I’ll pass. I promised my girlfriend I’d be home early.”

She raised an eyebrow, your refusal had only intrigued her more but instead of looking disappointed, she smiled, the kind that seemed almost too knowing. “Of course,” she said smoothly. “Another time then.” Her gaze lingered for a moment before she turned and walked away.

You returned home to your girlfriend. You shared a quiet dinner, nothing fancy. The sound of the TV filled the space between you as you sat together on the couch. She rested her head on your shoulder, content and tired.

You ran your hand absentmindedly through her hair, your eyes on the screen, but you weren’t really following the plot. Instead, it wandered back to Victoria—the way she looked at you, the energy between you that felt charged even when nothing was said outright. You felt it more than you wanted to admit.

Your stomach twisted with guilt. How could you be thinking about this when you were literally here, with your girlfriend, the woman who had stood by you through everything?

She stirred beside you, her voice soft and warm. “I’m going to the restroom,” she said, leaning in for a quick kiss before standing. You smiled at her tired expression, watching as she left the room.

But the moment she was gone, the guilt gnawed at you. You were here with her, and yet your thoughts were with someone else entirely.

In the usual grind of the bullpen. The hum of conversations filled the room, but you were focused on the screen in front of you. Your fingers moved steadily over the keys as you sifted through the latest developments in the case you’d been working on.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the subtle change in the air around you at first. A shadow loomed over your desk, and then the familiar presence of Victoria washed over you. You could sense her without even turning around, as though her energy filled the space between you. Her eyes trailed over the screen, and you couldn’t help but feel the heat of her gaze on you, and notice how good she smelled.

Glancing over your shoulder, your heart skipped a beat. She was so close—closer than usual. Her lips curved into a soft smile, one that was both familiar and disarming. Your breath hitched as your eyes met, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world around you had faded into the background.

Your pulse quickened. Your noses were almost touching, the proximity sending a rush through your body. You couldn’t help but smile back, your body betraying you in the face of her charm. But then, quickly, you turned your head back to the screen, clearing your throat in an attempt to keep your composure.

“Morning,” You said, voice steady but quieter than usual.

“Morning,” Victoria responded, her tone smooth and easy, as if she wasn’t at all fazed by how close you had just been. “Where are we at on the recent case?”

You straightened up, eager to focus on work rather than the electric moment you had just shared. You quickly pulled up the files. “I’ve reviewed the latest documents and drafted a preliminary report. I’ll have it on your desk by noon.”

Victoria nodded, her eyes still lingering on you for a moment before shifting to the screen. “Good. Keep me updated. We’re getting close to a breakthrough.”

She straightened herself and gave you one last glance before walking away. As she moved through the bullpen, you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The tension between you had become almost palpable, but as always, she left you with more questions than answers.

You had proven yourself as a valuable asset, especially with the Garent case under your belt. But with success came more responsibilities, and Victoria began to involve you in higher-stakes cases, pushing you harder than ever.

The very next morning she called you into her office for a debriefing. handing you the files, she leaned in just a little too close, testing those invisible boundaries once again.

“You’ve been doing great work,” she said, her voice low but sincere. “But I think you’re ready for more. We’ve got a new client coming in next week. I want you to take the lead on it.”

Your eyes widened, surprised. Leading a case wasn’t something you’d expected this early. You felt a surge of pride but also the familiar unease that came with working so closely with her.

The bullpen was empty, the city’s distant hum filtering through the windows. It was the usual you staying late at the office, and poring over more documents for your next case. As you stretched your neck, the door to the bullpen opened, and Victoria appeared. She crossed the room, her heels echoing in the silence.

“I didn’t expect anyone else to be here,” she said with a soft smile, leaning against your desk. “But then again, I should’ve known.”

“Just trying to get ahead,” You replied, eyes still focused on your screen, though your mind was elsewhere.

Victoria tilted her head slightly, studying you. “You’re different, you know that? Most people I’ve worked with would’ve crumbled under the pressure by now. But you… you handle it with grace.”

Her words sent a strange warmth through you. Vulnerability. That was new. She wasn’t testing you now—this was something else.

Before you could come up with a response, she sighed and straightened up. “Don’t stay too late,” she said, her tone lighter. “Even the best need rest.”

She left the bullpen, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The warmth of her praise still lingered, but so did the complexity of your feelings. Was she simply acknowledging your talent, or was there something deeper at play?

The rivalry between you and Hughie had always been subtle, but as time went on, He couldn’t help but notice the way Victoria had started to rely more and more on you. It was no secret that she only trusted the best, and while he had once been in her good graces, something had shifted.

You, on the other hand, were unaware of the storm brewing behind Hughie’s polite smiles and quick remarks. You’re too focused on the new case Victoria had entrusted you with—your first real opportunity to prove yourself in a leadership role.

One afternoon, Victoria suggested you’d meet at a small café downtown to discuss the case before you met with the client. The setting was casual, almost too casual, given the intensity of your work relationship. As you sipped your coffee, you went over the details of the merger-gone-wrong case.

“You’re handling it well,” Victoria remarked, her eyes watching you carefully. “I knew I made the right choice putting you on this.”

You smiled, but the weight of her words, and her presence, made you shift in your seat. There was something unspoken between you, something that was starting to feel more like a current pulling you in, even when you tried to resist.

As you wrapped up, Victoria leaned forward, her tone softening. “You’ve got this. Just be yourself with the client, and you’ll win them over.”

You nodded, your mind already shifting to the next task, but a flicker of doubt lingered. It wasn’t about the case. It was about Victoria—and the fact that Hughie had just walked into the café, his eyes narrowing at the sight of you together.

Back at the office, his mood had shifted. He watched as you walked in, confident after a successful meeting with the client. Victoria’s praise of you hadn’t gone unnoticed, and for Hughie, it was salt in an already open wound. He wasn’t about to let you waltz into the firm and take everything he had worked so hard for.

As the day wore on, he approached you at your desk, his voice sharp but measured. “So, I see you’ve been getting cozy with Victoria lately.”

You looked up, caught off guard by his sudden confrontational tone. “We’ve been working on the case.”

He scoffed. “Right, of course. Just the case.”

A few seconds later Victoria appeared in the hallway. His eyes flickered to her, and he forced a smile, but his jaw clenched as he walked away.

Later that evening, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Hughie’s words echoed in your mind, but so did the unspoken moments between you and Victoria.

As you lay in bed, your girlfriend was asleep beside you, your thoughts drifted to the lingering tension in your life—at work, with Victoria, and now, with Hughie. With a sigh, you buried your face into your pillow, seeking solace in its soft embrace, eyelids fluttered shut as you slowly drifted to sleep.

The air in the office had become noticeably thicker. You continued to keep your head down, focusing on cases and dealing with the complex dynamics around you. Despite your life being in turmoil, you remained calm and composed. Your ability to stay level-headed was a strength, one that Victoria admired—but it was also the very thing driving Hughie over the edge.

He had been simmering for days. His jealousy, once hidden behind casual remarks, had started surfacing in sharper, more pointed interactions. Every time he saw Victoria gravitating towards you, his anger flared.

It was late afternoon when Hughie found you alone in the copy room. The tension between you had been building, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Funny how things work around here, isn’t it?” his voice was cold as he stepped into the room, blocking the exit.

You turned, your expression neutral. “Is there something you need, Hughie?”

He smirked, but his frustration bubbled beneath the surface. “You walk in here, what? Six months ago? Suddenly, you’re Victoria’s number one. What is it? What’s your secret?”

You remained composed, carefully placing the stack of papers you were holding onto the counter. “I’m just doing my job.” you shrugged unbothered.

Hughie’s jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the door frame. “Just doing your job… You really think that’s all it is? You think I don’t see what’s going on?”

You met his gaze calmly, your voice steady. “Whatever you think is happening between me and Victoria, you’re wrong.”

He stepped closer, his anger barely contained. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

You didn’t flinch. “No. But I’m not going to let you push me around either.”

His face hardened, but before he could respond, the door swung open. Victoria stood there, her eyes briefly flicking between the two of you.

“Hughie, a word in my office,” she said coolly, leaving no room for argument. Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked away.

Hughie shot you a final glare before storming out after her.

That evening, you received an unexpected text from Victoria ‘Come over for a drink. We need to talk.’

You stared at the message for a moment, feeling a knot form in your stomach. Your relationship had been professional—casual even—but being invited to her home? This felt different. Hesitant, You couldn’t shake the feeling that she has something more on her mind than just discussing work.

After a few moments of deliberation, you finally decided to go.

You stood before her front door, heart pounding as you rang the bell. The large wooden door creaked open, revealing her seductive smile and a held-up bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Her red lipstick, loose curls framing her face, and the silver robe hugging her curves, leaving just enough to the imagination, had you mesmerized. Your gaze lingered on the bare skin peeking out, your breathing hitched, before you met her smoldering eyes.

"You came," she purred, her voice enchanting. you smiled, your voice husky, "Yeah, of course."

She beckoned you in, her hand resting on the doorframe. The close proximity, the scent of her shampoo, and the tension in the air made you fumble with your hands, shoving them into your pockets as you awkwardly squeezed past her.

The heat radiating from her body caused yours to respond, your warmth merging as she stepped aside, her lips curved in a playful smirk. You took a deep breath, swallowing hard, as you stepped into her home.

Your eyes scanned the spacious room, taking in the sleek modern furniture, the smooth marble floors, and the large windows. Her house was elegant but also understated, much like the woman herself.

You felt a strange sense of unease, not quite knowing what to expect. But you also found yourself drawn to her, following her into the kitchen. You shouldn’t be looking but it was almost impossible when she reached up to grab wine glasses, and her silky robe shifted, revealing a fascinating glimpse of her skin.

Your breath caught, but it was fleeting. You cleared your throat, your gaze darting anywhere but at her as you rubbed the back of your neck.

Her smile urged you to follow her further to the glass doors, and you did. Stepping outside, the warm breeze enveloped you, and the glow from the pool's lights bathed the area in soft light. You took a seat on a pool chair next to her, accepting the glass of wine she offered with a small, nervous smile.

The taste of the wine on your tongue was exquisite, and you leaned back, trying to maintain your composure. Victoria crossed her legs, her gaze fixated on the shimmering water before speaking. "So..."

“I’ve noticed Hughie been on edge lately,” she said, taking a sip of her glass. “I assume he’s made that pretty clear to you.”

You nodded, swirling the wine in your glass. “He’s not happy about the way things have been going between us.” She tilted her head slightly. “And how have things been going between us?”

The question caught you a little off guard, and you hesitated before answering. “We’re working well together, but… Hughie thinks it’s more than that.”

She chuckled, but there was something in her gaze that made you feel like there was more beneath the surface. “Well he is ambitious, but sometimes he doesn’t know how to control it.”

The conversation shifted again, light at first, but the tension slowly built after a few moments you spoke. “Why did you really ask me to come here tonight Victoria?” You asked, voice low.

She paused taking another sip of her drink, then opened her mouth to respond but found that she didn’t have a clear answer. The silence stretched between you, lingering in the air like a heavy cloud.

Instead she stood, gracefully placing the glass on the table. She took a few steps towards the edge of the shimmering pool, her fingers deftly undoing the ties on her robe. With a swift, fluid motion, the robe slipped from her shoulders, pooling loosely around her feet.

Your breath caught, heart pounding. Ready to leap at the sight, your eyes devoured the vision before you. The barest of bathing suits clung to her, barely covering her lush curves. The expanse of her exposed skin sent a rush of heat coursing through you. Desire threatened to consume.

She stepped into the water, her back turned. You were helplessly drawn to her, unable to shift your gaze away nor keep your distance. The cool water soothed your skin as you sat on the edge, slowly letting your legs down.

Victoria turned, the water dancing beautifully along her skin, creating a hypnotic display. The blue hue of the pool reflected in her eyes, deepening their shade, making them seem endless. She smiled, the warmth of her expression reaching you. She moved closer, and you couldn't help but feel the pull, growing more irresistible with each second.

She stood between your spread legs, the moment hanging between you. The possibility simmered, tantalizing. She could take you in right here right exact this moment. Her wet fingertips traced the edge of your jean shorts, and you didn't resist, suddenly you didn’t have the strength to even stop her.

You exhaled shakily, your fingers gripping the edge. Meeting her gaze, you saw pleading and a darkness that stirred something within you.

"Maybe because..." she whispered, her voice a low purr. Your lips involuntarily parted, and time seemed to slow.

Before the moment could deepen further, your phone buzzed loudly on the table, breaking the stillness. You quickly got up and rushed to answer, your eyes flicking to Victoria in the pool, who seemed both frustrated and guilty. You stepped away, your voice muffled by distance as you took the call.

You returned to her as quickly as you could, your eyes searching hers for understanding. "Sorry, I gotta go. It's an emergency."

Victoria stood as well, watching you with a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Yeah of course,” she said smoothly. “Go ahead.”

As you left, your thoughts an endless loop of what had just transpired. You needed to make sense of this. You knew something had shifted between you tonight, but you weren’t sure what it meant—or how much longer you could pretend that nothing was happening between the two of you.

[skz-streamer]

Yes love?

Simptober Small Things You Do M-list

Pairing: Hyunjin (skz) x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive

Warnings: a lil baby bit suggestive ig

Notes: I WANT HYUNJIN >:((((((

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Word count - 547;)

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

The room was steeped in a tranquil silence, save for the gentle rise and fall of your breaths. Hyunjin and you lay atop each other, both tired from the passionate events that had transpired just moments ago. It was in these quiet moments of afterglow that you cherished the most – the sense of closeness and intimacy that came from sharing your love so intimately.

With a soft sigh, Hyunjin stirred beneath you, his strong arms carefully lifting your body from his. He placed you gently by his side, and as he looked at your beautiful face, a warm smile played on his lips. The way you looked at him after moments like these always melted his heart, and he couldn't get enough of it.

His gaze settled on his favorite feature – your eyes. They were filled with a unique radiance, a look you reserved only for him. But what captivated him the most was the way he saw himself reflected in your eyes. It was as if you saw him as the sweetest thing on the whole planet, a side of him he thought no one else could see, but you. And that made it all the more precious.

His dark eyes, usually filled with playful mischief or determination, now held a different quality. They were soft, deep pools of chocolate brown, gazing at you with an intensity that was both sweet and loving. It was a side of him that he reserved just for you, a side that no one else would ever get to see, and that made it all the more special.

"Jinnie?" you whispered, your voice a tender melody in the hushed room.

He responded in kind, his voice low and affectionate, "Yes, love?"

With that simple exchange, you bared your heart to him, expressing what you felt in the depths of your being. "I love you," you confessed, your words carrying the weight of your emotions.

Hyunjin couldn't help but smile wider, his heart swelling with affection. He pulled you close, enfolding you in his arms, and the two of you became one. Skin to skin, it was as though nothing in the world could harm or hurt you. In this embrace, you felt safe and cherished, your love cocooning you from the outside world.

Hyunjin's fingers gently brushed away the tangled strands of your sweaty hair, exposing your neck, which he adored. It was his favorite place to be with you, where he felt closest to your heart and soul. He marveled at how pretty you looked, even in this disheveled state, and he couldn't help but think that you were his in every way possible.

In return, you held onto him, feeling the warmth and security of his embrace. It was moments like these that made you realize how fortunate you were to have Hyunjin by your side. In the quiet intimacy of your connection, you found a profound love that transcended words, a love that filled your heart and soul, making you feel complete in every sense.

As you lay together, intertwined and content, you knew that this was where you belonged – in the arms of the person who cherished you as the most beautiful thing in the world, a side of him that was reserved only for you.

————————————

Tags:  @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @cherry-edibles @ren0325 @felixvsp @hwangrimi @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno @herarcadewasteland @dabiscrustyfeet @kai-jilee  @sungiesoonie  @slvtty4channiee @revelaffee @buckys-pillow, @staygirl86 @chlodavids @jinnie-ret @bbygrlhannie @rebecca-johnson-28  @turtledove824  @interstellarairwaves @yearofthetiger25 @minhos4thkitty @fiqire @backintomykpopphaseagain @liknws @tinyelfperson @aaasia111

[dindjarindiaries]

What about

“You’re not alone, baby. You never have been.”

With Hunter? I’m so glad you’re interested in writing for him right now. He’s my favorite!

character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)

prompt: “You’re not alone, baby. You never have been.”

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

It felt good to be helping someone again, and that's what you dwelled upon as you and Wrecker laughed with the clone cadets in the cockpit of the Marauder. They had been curious about some of Wrecker's wartime stories, and both he—and you, as a long-time honorary member of the squad—had decided to tell your most fond memories. Most of those involved laughs, usually centered on the pure chaos of each story.

But the absence of one was felt heavily, particularly for you. There was a cold chill in the place of the empty chair alongside you, and when you tore your gaze away from Wrecker and the boys, you saw Hunter bent over Tech's old datapad yet again. Your lips pulled tight, and your fingers tapped against your crossed arms.

You didn't want to admit it, but he had only been getting worse as time went on.

It wasn't unusual for Hunter to be in his lonesome. As the squad leader, he often took it upon himself to seek isolation and focus on planning ahead. His enhanced senses made isolation even more tempting for him.

This isolation, however, was different. Losing Crosshair what felt like cycles ago was bad enough. Echo's departure was understood by everyone, but hard to digest. Then, all at once, it was Tech and Omega.

Hunter didn't have to tell you about the burdens on his shoulders. It was clear in the way he carried himself. As the person he left himself be the most vulnerable with, you saw it more than anyone else could.

No doubt sensing your eyes on him, Hunter's gaze rose and met yours for a moment. As if it was too much for him, he cut his eyes away, setting down the datapad on the station and rising from his chair. He disappeared behind the curtain of Omega's room, yet again shutting himself away.

That time, you weren't letting it slide.

You brushed your hand over Wrecker's shoulder to catch his attention. He stopped another fit of laughter to look at you, and you gestured with your head to the back of the ship. Wrecker's brow knit together as he nodded in understanding, and your shared gaze said enough. He would have no trouble entertaining your guests as the Marauder made its way to Pabu.

You kept your footsteps light as you closed the distance to Omega's room. Still, Hunter would sense your approach. Whatever you could do to make it easier for him, though, you would. Forcing him into overstimulation wouldn't help to accomplish that goal.

You drew the curtain aside and climbed the rungs of the ladder. Making sure the curtain was closed behind you, you pushed ahead, peering around the corner of the interior hull to see Hunter sitting on Omega's old bed. His knees were drawn up to his chest as the back of his head rested against the hull, his eyes closed—but not in a peaceful way.

He exhaled as he sensed your presence, his eyes remaining closed even as he spoke in a low voice. "I'm sorry."

You raised your brow at him. "For what?"

Hunter's eyes opened before he rolled his head to the side and faced you. There was a distress so prominent in his brown eyes that it made your chest ache with a resounding pang. "You and Wrecker were having fun. Smiling, laughing even." The corners of his mouth pulled up only for a moment at the thought of your joy. "I didn't mean to ruin it."

You frowned at him. "You didn't ruin it, Hunter."

Hunter huffed, a self-deprecating sound as he rolled his head back to where it had been before. His fingers fumbled with each other as he went on. "I need to start making use of these private spaces again. I've... gotten too comfortable thinking out in the open."

You started to scoot yourself closer to him. "Because you have the space to. There's no reason to be on your own."

Hunter's gaze was cast upwards and it stayed there, even as you watched his jaw work for a few moments. "I left Crosshair on his own. I let the Empire get away with Omega. And I ordered Tech to..."

Hunter didn't have to finish that thought, and he couldn't if he wanted to. You watched as his eyes squeezed closed again, his chest inflating with a breath he held as his lips pressed together and his jaw circled. You brought yourself close enough to his side to take one of his gloved hands and lace it with yours, resting them on your thigh as you waited patiently for him.

"I may not have a reason to be on my own, but I deserve to be." Hunter reopened his eyes, revealing the tears that sat stubbornly on his waterline. Your body nearly trembled in your grief for him as he went on. "I'm alone with these decisions I made." He swallowed hard, making the lump in his throat even more visible to you. "I always will be."

You lifted your free hand to the side of his face furthest from you, gently turning his cheek to make you face him again. His devastation threatened to ruin you, but you kept yourself strong for his sake, offering him a refuge with a smile to light the end of his dark tunnel. "You're not alone, baby." Your voice was hushed, barely a whisper as your fingertips ran over his cheek. "You never have been." You brushed some of the wisps of hair away from his bandana. "And you never have to be."

Hunter paused, and you knew him well enough to recognize that he was using his senses to detect a lie. When he came up with nothing but the truth, he rested his forehead against yours in relieved surrender. "I know the responsibility I hold. I will never shy away from it. But, this... these burdens..." his voice lowered to a broken yet honest whisper as he finished, "I need help carrying them."

You cupped his jaw and ran your thumb over his skin. "You never had to carry them on your own, Hunter." You nodded at him. "We want to help." You gave his hand that you still held a squeeze. "I want to help."

Hunter searched your gaze before he returned your nod, his tensed shoulders beginning to loosen as he whispered his genuine gratitude upon your lips. "Thank you."

Your kiss was slow and soft, taking its time in the very same way Hunter would with his share of these burdens. You kept him close, reminding him of how you would always be there—and not needing a single word to do so. His free hand snuck around the back of your neck to pull you closer, a gentle plea for you to stay close. It was an order you were more than happy to take from him.

When you parted, Hunter began to smile, a gesture you hadn't seen on him in much too long. You raised your brow and already felt your lips spreading wide in your own grin before he explained himself. "You know, uh... nobody's ever called me that."

You furrowed your brow at his sudden shyness as his cheeks began to redden. "Called you what?"

Hunter's gaze fell to your entwined hands as he gently began to knead his within your own. The smile wouldn't leave his lips as he repeated the endearment with an adorable awkwardness. "'Baby.'"

You relaxed your brow. "Oh." You softly nudged his shoulder to gain his attention once again. "Well, do you like it?"

Hunter waited a beat before nodding, his face reddening even more at the confession.

You let out a soft laugh. "Then it's settled." You lifted your entwined hands to your lips and kissed his gloved knuckles. "It's you and me, baby."

Hunter rested his forehead against your temple and closed his eyes in sweet relief. "You and me."

[silverskye13]

random thought, but i had a vivid image of, if helsknight and welsknight ever saw each other without armor (or just helsknight out of his armor tbh), helsknight showing welsknight the scar tanguish gave him and saying "this was intended for you."

i don't know how in character that is, but tbh it's haunting me. maybe it's part of helsknight's revenge against welsknight or something, calling out his unknightly behavior and unhonorable conduct.

"You didn't answer my summons."

Helsknight froze. It was a quick, momentary startle, a short-circuit of normality. The moment he did it, every instinct told him to keep moving. That old command [Do something.] blared loud in the quiet surprise of his mind. So he moved his hand to pick up the brush on his table, and pretended to be unconcerned.

"I'm not a dog. You can't call me to heel," Helsknight said simply. He smirked and growled, "Though if you feel like losing some limbs, feel free to try."

Behind him, Wels shifted uncomfortably. Helsknight liked making Wels uncomfortable, he didn't handle it well. He was a creature used to comfort and ease. Inconvenience often galled him more than a sword to the throat. Different tactics for different battlefields, and this battlefield was a delicate one.

Helsknight was cleaning his arms and armor, which was one of several reasons why he hasn't leaped for a fight when Welsknight had called him to one. He was only in a tunic and breeches. It was luck he even had his boots on. He had offered to run errands with Tanguish, but Tanguish had said he was visiting his church and wanted to go on rooftops. So Helsknight stayed home, and he left his boots on. That was the other reason Helsknight hadn't answered the call: Tanguish wouldn't know where he was, and he knew Tanguish got paranoid about being left behind. Besides, Helsknight had chores he could do at home [like cleaning his arms and armor] so he stayed. Cleaning the chainmail was almost a formality. Hels was hot and dry, and he wore it often enough that the rings clattering together cleaned themselves. But sometimes he just liked putting an extra shine on things, so he took out his brush and oil and started brushing it down for any miniscule specks of rust or broken links he could find.

Wels, always keen on the times he wasn't wanted, decided now was the perfect time to show up in his living room. He stood awkwardly, waiting on Helsknight to make some aggressive movement. When none came, he cautiously stalked further into the tiny living space. His emotions were loud and uncomfortable without the distance between their respective worlds to dampen them, and they clung like smoke against Helsknight's skin. Caution at an unfamiliar space. Disgruntlement at being ignored.

[Guilt, like ash on a burn.]

"Is this... Yours?" Wels asked, glancing around.

"No, I'm just squatting in a random house. Sounded like a fun way to spend a Tuesday."

Helsknight felt the ant-bite sting of vicarious agitation and smirked. He was already getting on Wels's nerves.

[Good.]

"Couldn't build something nicer?" Wels snapped impatiently.

"I'm a fighter."

Helsknight found a place on his chainmail to brush down and got to work. The rough, grating twinge of the coarse bristles on chain made Wels wince. Helsknight always found the noise pleasant. Like scratching an itch.

"So?"

"I have better things to do than spend hours building the perfect house."

Wels scoffed and looked around the room with renewed disdain. "Where's your little devil?"

It took Helsknight a moment to place what he was asking. He sneered, a quiet bearing of teeth, and caught the flicker of red in the reflective shine of his chainmail. Wels looked pointedly away from him.

[Like ash on a burn.]

"Not feeling remorse... are we, crusader?" Helsknight asked, finding a new place to polish. The coin-drop clatter of chain, and the shrill scrape of bristles filled the silence like an accusation.

"Of course not," Wels sniffed disdainfully, still refusing to meet Helsknight's eye.

"Careful." Helsknight murmured, that red flash reflecting off his chainmail again, anger simmering. "Lying's a sin."

"Why would I feel remorse for protecting my home?"

"A crusade well fought I'm sure."

"It's not a crusade!" Wels snapped, his own anger a living thing raising hackles. "A crusader invades! A crusader fights a holy war just for the principle."

"Right. And you're fighting because--"

"Because I'm protecting Tango."

"-because it's for his own good?"

Wels didn't exactly wince, but he did still, as though he'd heard someone draw a blade from its scabbard. Helsknight might as well have unseated his sword. He had stopped scrubbing, all pretense of work falling. The need to pace, to circle, to corner, rose up in Helsknight like a waking beast.

"Interesting choice of words. Protecting." Helsknight said, his voice low, his hands still. "I was under the impression they were friends. Do you often protect Tango from the people he's begging you to spare?"

"That doesn't matter." Wels said so firmly it was almost convincing. Almost. "People are convinced they need an abusive relationship. That doesn't change the fact it's bad for them."

"So many interesting words today," Helsknight hissed. He stood like a dark tower rising, all embered fury slowly stoking. Wels didn't bother turning to face him. He could feel his intent like thunder. "Abuse. Brings to mind the image of power. I do have a question."

"I didn't come here for your stupid questions."

"No, you came here looking for a fight."

"I didn't."

"You really do need to tame that lying tongue."

"I didn't come here for a fight."

"Did it feel powerful?" Helsknight demanded, pacing a step, and loathing the tiny room for denying him the space to circle. "The voice. The command. How did it feel."

"Shut up."

"To have someone begging you not to hurt them," Helsknight continued relentlessly. "Not your stupid play fighting on your stupid little server. True, shaking, terror. Did it feel good, crusader? Just?"

"I told you to shut up!" Wels shouted, taking a threatening step forward only to find Helsknight had closed the space between them and stood looming like a rook on a tombstone.

Fear, a caged thing howling, battered against Helsknight's anger. It made Helsknight feel almost giddy, the crash of malicious schadenfreude and self-righteousness against Wels; a flickering thing of brittle will. They made a terrible ouroboros together, fear feeding anger feeding elation feeding fear. They were always like this. No matter how calm either of them tried to be, once anger kindled in one, their emotions burned until there was nothing left but fury and loathing. Helsknight had been made to cut Wels down to size.

"Do you know what that kind of fear does to people?" Helsknight demanded again, his voice so near a whisper it was smothering. They were so close together, but they made so little noise, all will and wide eyes. "What happened to mercy for the helpless, crusader?"

"He wasn't helpless," Welsknight said, trying very hard not to back down. "He stabbed me."

"And a drowning rat bites. I wouldn't call it an apex predator. Certainly I wouldn't call it a danger to you, with your full armor and sword." Helsknight bared his teeth at Wels, something like a bitter grin. "I wasn't wearing armor."

Wels looked down, where Helsknight had drawn up his tunic to reveal the new scar in his abdomen. Wels looked like he'd stopped breathing.

"This was intended for you," Helsknight said. "You should thank me."

"You're-- you're here telling me he's harmless," Wels laughed nervously. "But he almost killed you. You."

Something in Helsknight snapped, and in the moment it took him to reach for it with white knuckles and compose it again, he'd shoved Wels hard in the chest. It didn't knock his other half off his feet, but he stumbled back hard enough hit the opposite wall. Not hard enough to hurt, but certainly hard enough to warn.

"He did," Helsknight snarled, pacing forward slow steps. "That's what terror does to helpless people, crusader. It makes them bite. It makes them beg. It makes them clamor to live. You. Did. That. What did it feel like to abuse that kind of power Wels? To turn someone into a scared animal? To make someone so desperate they would almost kill a friend? Did you find your righteousness there crusader?"

Helsknight didn't know what he planned on doing. Violence was in his blood like a serpent, and he wanted it. And Wels knew he wanted it. There was the ring of drawn metal, and the silver-bright glint of an enchanted blade in a dark room. Helsknight's advance stopped at the top of Wels's sword, not close enough to hurt, but close enough to warn.

"Stop." Wels said. A command. A plea.

"I'm unarmed."

"That doesn't matter."

Helsknight smiled, and there was loathing and euphoria in it, and the wine-dark dread of Wels right on the other side of it. The knowledge of a line crossed, a battle he hadn't even realized he was fighting made forfeit.

"Fine." Helsknight said. "My blood's already been spilled once on your behalf. At least this time do it with your own sword, coward. I'll make it easy for you."

He took a step forward, and nudged the blade with a knuckle, resting the point against his scar. The metal was cold, even through his shirt, the enchantments alive and writhing so close to his skin.

"How cruel have you gotten while I wasn't there to keep you in check, crusader?"

There was a long breath of silence between them. Helsknight stood, precarious and predatory, daring Wels to kill him. And Wels stood there, and dared himself to as well. And the room was dark, lit only by red anger and blue dread, and the pale, languid flicker of enchanted steel. And neither of them breathed. And the universe watched.

A loud clatter sounded on the roof. Both knights looked up towards the ceiling, Wels in startlement, and Helsknight in resignation.

"And he stays my hand once again," Helsknight sighed.

"What--?" Wels didn't get his full question out before Helsknight moved. He knocked the sword aside and lunged forward to grab Wels's shirt. In a move that would've made Martyn proud, he dragged Wels forward into his knee, knocking the wind out of him. In the time it took Wels to collapse to the floor, Helsknight had taken his sword, and held the point beneath his other half's chin.

"Go home Wels," Helsknight said, "before I send you there the hard way."

Wels, breathless on the ground, let out half a strangled laugh. "Why don't you?"

"Because I was asked nicely not to go running off and killing you."

"Helsknight?" A loud knock sounded at the door. Tanguish's voice, a bright comfort even in spite of its concern, called to him. "Is everything okay? I thought I heard something fall."

Helsknight glared meaningfully down at Wels, who only hesitated long enough for Helsknight to draw back the sword before slipping back to his world. The moment he did, Helsknight felt his breath leave him, the great void of being left to his own thoughts and emotions. In the wake of everything that was Wels, he felt ridiculous.

[What in hels had he even been about to do? Die on someone's sword to prove a point? Idiot.]

"Helsknight? The door is locked."

"I'm coming," Helsknight called, pausing only long enough to hide Wels's sword beneath the couch, where Tanguish couldn't see it and inevitably worried about it. He checked his tunic to make sure he hadn't managed to actually stab himself [he hadn't] and went to let Tanguish inside.

[riinkun-art-stuff]

Howdy ho! I'm very excited to finally be able to share this illustration I worked on as part of this year's @bumblebybigbang for @tahnex's lovely and super fun fic (with no pain attached whatsoever), "Of Dragons and Panthers," which you can read here! As soon as I read the original notes on it this scene captured me so much I had to do something dramatic for it. It's been such a pleasure watching the whole collab come together, tysm for having me!

First time joining an event like this, and I'd love to again if the opportunity comes around hehe. Still a few postings to go on this one, the pieces before us this year have knocked it out of the park and I'm super excited to see the rest once they come around!

Made a few process cuts just for fun, which I left under the cut!

I did do a few sketches roughly before I started out, especially based on other parts of the chapter, but this particular composition was so fixed in my mind that I ended up just sticking with it. In retrospect, I would've loved to go back and do some more thorough exploration for it. Here are a few of the sketches I managed to fish back up:

I also was thinking of trying a few other doodles/another big piece, but ended up not really having the time between other obligations :')

And the sketch I finally settled on:

Inking was SUCH a fun process on this piece in particular. I'm a huge fan of how dragon!Yang's mane turned out, especially, and all the detailing on the head and around Blake's fur and such. Feel like I'm really satisfied w the particular way the line weight variations came out, and it's where the piece shines the most imo.

Panther!Blake, too. Oh gosh. I feel like it took me a lot of reworking to get her structure to a point where she felt very leopard-like, rather than any other type of big cat- especially around the head.

Colours were such a challenging part. There was a big feeling I had for that glow coming off dragon!Yang in the middle of the heavy rain- I love seeing that sort of effect in real life so that's something I'm really hoping to work to capture better as I practice. Trying to get dragon!Yang's slight iridescence in there and to balance out the lighting on panther!Blake's fur each took a long time, too- I'm only a pinch sad that a good chunk of it is covered by other lighting effects XD

Blake's rosettes were SO fun. Augguhugg.

In terms of backgrounds. HOO boy I was going through a strange patch in life while working on the background and final polish for this piece, which is why (at least I feel like) it looks kinda rushed. I have been practicing natural landscapes and doing some observational studies but still struggling to get those rock shapes quite right, which I think is a big make or break point of something like this. I did really enjoy toying around with inking on the foliage and foreground layers of the ground, though! And in the end, lighting and effects ended up masking a lot of the big weak spots :D

I think natural effects like smoke/steam, and rain, are big things that I got to practice more of in this piece, but also really would like to get better at in future. Esp since I feel like it's been a great opportunity to mess around with different colours and brushes that I use way less, which I'm always grateful for w painting. I think just layering the rain on its own ended up being about 10 odd layers?

I think the only other thing I would have loved to improve is to just help the piece feel more Bumbleby™ in the final look. I think I like the cool colours of the lighting for this particular outcome, but I also would have probably tried to have made things much clearer (ahem at the very least switch to yellow/purple) in the long run in terms of representation and resemblance. Ik that at least for me it is fairly easy to associate the two characters with dragons and panthers since I'm more familiar w the fandom lingo around these two, but esp for outsiders I feel like it's probably not great at conveying who they are, and why they are potentially in this situation.

I'd also love to try and find a shading style that still has a painterly quality but compliments the inking a bit better, rather than overpowering it.

I think that, on the whole, I am pretty satisfied with the piece and had a great time working with Tahnex on the whole collab! And I've also has a fun time reading his work and notes in return, and thank you so much for being so so patient with me even as my updates were slow n rocky at points :'D

That's about all I got, have a great day y'all! Still a few big bang postings to go, so very excited for those once they come around!

[suddencolds]

insatiable appetite [1/?]

sooo... this is one of the thirstiest things i have written—and also one of the only times i've written a character with the kink, ever T.T warnings in advance for mess, character getting sneezed on, implied contagion, possible ooc-ness, & me writing this entirely with my d instead of my head

ivan and till are from al//ien sta//ge (a very fun watch which will only take 30 mins out of your life; i really recommend it!!). that said, this fic takes place in a modern au setting, so feel free to read it without any prior context :)

special thanks to @6pmsoup for sending me a very cute alnst doodle of these two which altered my brain chemistry permanently

—

Summary: Till shows up to a dinner outing with a brewing cold. Ivan suffers. (est. relationship, kink!Ivan, ~2k words)

—

For all Till tries to hide it, Ivan can tell immediately.

There’s this: Ivan has been paying attention to Till for most of his life. A full decade before they’d gotten together officially, and some more—this is how long Ivan has had to observe his tells. Always from the sidelines, always with a detached air of indifference that, in reality, was anything but.

All the signs are there the night before. Till, turning up the thermostat a couple degrees higher than he usually keeps it. Spending a little too long in the shower and using up almost all of the hot water. Clearing his throat one too many times in the morning before Ivan leaves for work, his smile distracted, the rasp of his voice nearly indistinguishable—but only nearly.

Now, Till is here for dinner—it’s a dinner they’ve had plans for a couple weeks now, at one of the nicer restaurants downtown, in celebration of Till’s recent promotion. Ivan had booked the reservation a couple weeks in advance.

When Till arrives, stepping out of a taxi cab, he’s wearing a scarf, even though the weather is too warm for it. Ivan steps up to meet him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Till says. “Traffic here was the worst I’ve ever seen it, swear to god.”

“Was it cold outside today?” Ivan asks, a little pointedly, tilting his head towards his scarf.

Till looks at him, his expression unreadable. Then he nods. “Colder than usual, for this time of year.”

“Strange,” Ivan says, just to be difficult. “But the weather forecast says it’s the same temperature today as yesterday.” 

“It’s probably just windier today,” Till says, readjusting his scarf around his neck. His face is a little flushed.

“Your voice sounds a little off, though.”

Till clears his throat with a scowl. “You must be imagining it,” he says. “It always sounds like this.”

No admission, then. That’s fine. Ivan will get the truth out of him at some point. He lets Till guide him into the restaurant.

It’s a nice restaurant—worth the hassle of the reservation, Ivan thinks. Each table is set with flowers arranged tastefully in long glass vases, empty wine glasses turned on their heads. The server—who leads them to their table in a small, private booth—is wearing a suit.

It’s a shame, really. Ivan has a feeling that he won’t be able to pay attention to any of that tonight.

They sit. Ivan looks down at the menu, picks out something at random in a matter of seconds. Truthfully, he can hardly think of anything less worth his attention right now. He turns his attention to Till instead—Till, who’s seated directly across from him, the scarf still around his neck, obscuring the lower half of his face. 

Till sniffles, reaching down to turn the page, and oh. The sniffle is terribly liquid—has he been sniffling like that all afternoon? Perhaps it’s a good thing that they work at different offices—Till at a law firm, Ivan as a senior manager at a consulting company—because Ivan certainly doesn’t think he’d be able to get any work done with Till sniffling like that. 

It’s not two minutes later that Till is reaching up to wipe his nose against the back of one knuckle. All in all, it’s discreet. Just a quick brush of the fingers against his nose, which is still hidden under the scarf. Though, the look of sheer ticklishness that passes over his features for a brief moment there is...

“What are you thinking of ordering?” Ivan asks.

“I can’t decide,” Till answers. He turns the page again. “It’s between the ribeye steak and the… snf! The pork belly. Is this the kind of place that skimps on the portion sizes?”

“Not from their Yelp reviews,” Ivan says. “You know, if you really can’t decide, I can flip a coin.”

“I’ll pick,” Till says. “Why? Hungry already?”

He looks up, now. His eyes are a little watery. There’s a faint flush over the bridge of his nose. Ivan thinks that if he reached out and touched him, he’d probably be running warm. The thought is almost unbearable.

“Your taxi did take forever to arrive,” Ivan says, by way of explanation. 

“Did you really wait that long?”

He looks uncertain, for a moment. Ivan says, “Not at all. But you know, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”

Till rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “There was a meeting that ran late. I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Is that also a part of your new position?” “I guess so, yeah.”

“I can see why they were eager to promote you, then,” Ivan says. “How productive can late afternoon meetings be, anyways?”

Till snorts. “Not that important. It definitely could have been an email instead. I was about ready to doze off.”

He sniffles again. “Okay. I think I know what I want.” The way he says know betrays the slightest hint of congestion. 

“At long last,” Ivan says, just to be a little bit of an ass. “I’ll call over the waiter.”

He flags their waiter down, waits for Till to order first.

“A spiced apple cider,” Till adds on, at the end, with the slightest of coughs. “Hot, if you can.”

That’s new, too. Till seldom orders hot drinks at restaurants, though he’ll drink tea without complaint if it’s offered. Perhaps his throat hurts, then, from the cold that has clearly started to settle in his system. Subtle, still, but Ivan is familiar with colds like this. He knows it will probably only be a few hours before this deceptively “small” cold turns into…

Ivan orders, too, and thanks the waiter, who leaves with a curt nod. When he looks back over to Till, there’s a… strange something to Till’s expression, a slight distractedness. Irritation.

Ivan swallows hard. He should look away. 

He should, but then, Till’s breath hitches. He pulls the scarf higher over his face preemptively, as if he anticipates having something to have to cover for. The sharp intake of breath that follows is breathy, though Ivan can hear Till’s voice in it. He should really look away.

Instead, he takes the scene in, painstakingly, little by little, as Till’s shoulders jerk forwards. As Till presses a hand to the scarf, presses the fabric closer to his face, to muffle a sneeze into his fingertips:

“hhH-Ih!! hiHH-’IESCHH-eew-!”

God. It sounds utterly miserable, the harsh release of it scraping against his throat, the spray tearing into his scarf. It’s the kind of cold sneeze that is undeniably telling: this is going to be one hell of a cold. It’s not very quiet, either, even muffled into the fabric.

For more reasons than one, Ivan is glad they’re in a private corner of the restaurant, not somewhere more public.

“Bless you,” he offers, once he can trust himself to speak. It’s a good thing that Till is too distracted to look up at him right now. Ivan isn’t sure he can keep what he’s feeling off of his face.

Truthfully, he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to endure a whole night of this.

The problem here is that Till—Till, of all people; Till, who Ivan has been pathetically in love with for almost as long as he can remember—has no idea about Ivan’s… relatively niche interests. That is to say, he has no idea what effect it has on Ivan when he does that.

“Thanks,” Till says, a little stuffily. He sniffles again, lowering his hand. 

Ivan can’t help it. He knows he shouldn’t pursue this line of questioning, but he can feel his self-control dwindling by the second. “Don’t you think it would be better to take off your scarf, now that we’re inside?”

Till freezes. “Y-You know what,” he says evasively. “It’s pretty cold in here.”

Ivan tilts his head in question. “And just how do you plan on eating like that?”

“I’ll take it off when our food comes.”

“I can ask the waiter to turn the temperature up, if it’s a problem,” Ivan says. 

“It’s not a problem.”

Ivan rises from his seat. Till watches him, perplexed, as he heads to the opposite side of the table, where Till is seated.

When he gets there, he stops. Stands, unmoving, so he can study Till from above. 

“What are you—”

Ivan reaches out, settles his palm across Till’s forehead. As expected, it’s warm. Not quite feverish, which is a good sign, but warm enough to be notable. 

“Just how long were you intending to hide this?”

Till stares back at him, wide-eyed. “Hide what?”

Shouldn’t it be obvious? “The fact that you have a cold.”

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Till says, slowly.

“Hmm.” Ivan drops his hand to his side. He is a little concerned, now. “We could’ve called a rain check.”

This time Till really does roll his eyes. “For the reservation we planned weeks ahead?” he sniffles again. “That just sounds completely and utterly unnecessary. Are you the type of person to call things off just over a little cold?” 

Ivan leans over, tugs down the edge of Till’s scarf. Till bats his hand away just a moment too late, cups his other hand over his face to shield his face from view. For a moment, he looks faintly mortified.

Then his expression settles into something more disgruntled. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

So uncooperative. “Let me see,” Ivan says. Slowly, gently, he pries Till’s hands away from his face, and then—because the restaurant is dimly lit—tilts Till’s face up slightly so that it catches more of the overhead light. 

Till’s nose is redder than usual. He’s probably been rubbing it all afternoon, if the redness that percolates into his cheeks is any indication. There’s  a damp, liquid sheen on the underside of his nose.

“What’s there to see?” Till says, a little crossly.

“Your face, since you’ve been so intent on hiding it under that scarf,” Ivan says, leaning in to get a better look.

Till scowls at him, but there’s no heat to it. “You see my face every day.”

“On the contrary, I don’t see it nearly enough,” Ivan says. “And you hardly ever get sick. Is it so wrong for me to be concerned?”

Without looking, he reaches behind him with one hand to grab a couple cocktail napkins. The other hand he keeps held up to Till’s cheek. 

But then, Till’s breath hitches. “Wait,” he says. Panic flashes through his face. “Ivan, move, I—”

Oh. Well, seeing as there’s no way he’ll be able to get the napkins over in time, it looks like he’ll have to improvise. If Till wants to cover, Ivan can help with that. He moves his hand to cup it loosely over Till’s mouth. Not a second too late, it seems. Till jerks forward unceremoniously, his nose twitching, his eyes squeezing shut.

“hHheh-! HHh’EIITShHh’yYiew!” he gasps sharply. Two? “Hh-! hHiiH’DSSCSSHh-IIew!”  

The jolt of the sneezes is practically electrifying—all of that force, brought to an abrupt halt behind Ivan’s waiting palm. He feels the expulsion of air against his skin, the warmth of Till’s breath, feels the slight dampness behind his hand as the spray mists over his fingertips.

Ivan swallows, hard. Thank god it’s so dark here, otherwise Till might notice what this is doing to him. 

“Bless you,” he says, withdrawing his hand at last to wipe it on one of the cloth napkins. It comes out slightly raspier than he intends it to, though perhaps it’s a miracle that he’s still able to talk at all. “Some cold, hmm?” Belatedly, he hands Till the stack of napkins.

Till practically snatches them from him, turns aside to blow his nose wetly into the top few. The way he sniffles afterwards suggests that his nose is still very much running. 

“Do you have no self preservation? It’s as if you want to catch this,” Till says, drawing back with another sniffle.

Oh, Ivan thinks, fighting back a shiver. That would be far from the worst thing.

[shadowfloofster]

I've seen people say you can't compare the QSMP to the DSMP because they're both completely different servers with different starts.

The thing is you can compare them. Not the stories told themselves because of course they're going to be different as they're 2 servers with different starts with 2 nearly completely different sets of people.

You can compare the treatment of the creators by the fandom, players (other cc on the server) and admins though.

Foolish for example. He made SO many amazing high quality builds to use and be shown to people. Ranboo and Tubbo had him build a giant mansion for them to live in! Yet it was entered maybe once after being finished. Foolish was able to use his builds for his own lore maybe once. Only a few people like Bad really acknowledged them by messing around in the area of them or adding something easy to get rid of to them as jokes.

Bad's treatment on the DSMP was frustrating to watch. He was the butt of the joke every time he was around. People would constantly swear on his streams because it was so funny for them! They constantly destroyed his and Skeppy's house and griefed the front of it. No one other than his friends really listened to him about things. And the egg arc was supposed to be something that was a massive danger to the server! But how does the server and fandom not directly involved treat it? Like a joke. Bad and his friends clearly worked really hard on this arc to include more than just the 'main characters' and their small circle, yet it was brushed off as if nothing by the players and fandom, treated like it was stupid.

Quackity's lore just kinda- happened. There isn't much I can say as I don't remember a lot of it tbh which isn't a great sign.

Philza and Wilbur probably got the better end of the stick for lore due to being connected to the main lorr, but it still wasn't great for them either.

A lot of CCs not on the QSMP have mentioned how the communication for the server was terrible too. At the start of lore on the DSMP, it made sense as they were purely doing improve so there wasn't really anyone to run things through. But the fact the issue was bad the entire time made the CCs on the server feel ignored and not want to play on it.

It was rare for people to interact with others outside their already established circles unless they're friends outside the server.

Now with the QSMP

Foolish has built multiple things on the server and has been acknowledged by everyone at this point. Bad might mess with them a lot still and encourage others to join him but you can tell the respect people still have for each one. Vagetta wants a version of the statue Foolish built him on other servers. People and fandom admire his builds and always make sure that if there's any damage to it, it's easily undone. Cellbit has made the castle Foolish built him his home the moment it was finished, he's been using it since. He paid him fully and made sure he was fully supplied and had company while building, staying on for hours to talk to him as he built.

Bad is respected by everyone on the server. He's taken seriously by everyone. Everyone trusts him with their kid's lives. Phil asks Bad to babysit Tallulah and Chayanne if he can't. The french trust Bad more than anyone outside their language group. Forever trusts Bad the most on the server other than Baghera. If someone needs something they'll go to him. All the eggs love him and so does the fandom. He's part of the joke instead of the butt of it. He can laugh along with the jokes made, even ones directed at him. When people swear on his streams and he languages them, they immediately apologize and switch to one of Bad's replacements (fudge being the main one) and no one makes fun of it either! They don't start swearing relentlessly at him to annoy him.

Even though Quackity doesn't show up often, when he does people are happy to interact with him and update him on what's happened if he wants it.

People can be off the server for weeks without being isolated because they're not keeping up with major lore, especially as people are happy to update anyone on anything they want to know. Hell people can be on a lot without being involved in lore but still be included as much as anyone else! As soon as there's a threat to the eggs or a new way to protect them, it spreads to everyone like wildfire and everyone's taken it on within a week.

The new arrivals are always welcomed by the islanders already there. They support them and treat with the same respect they do with everyone else. They merge with everyone else nearly immediately and become part of the community without hesitation.

The communication with the admins is clearly amazing too. Philza has pointed out how appreciated he feels compared to other servers. When an egg dies unfairly they're quick to get back to them within hours. If there's a general issues they're quick to get back to them and fix things. People are allowed to have their own stories alongside the main one. Events are planned and discussed so everyones aware before it happens. Anyone who wants to take part is welcome to if it's a big thing due to how open they usually are (rescuing Cellbit and Felps, travelling to Bobby's death site, etc). Thinfs are adapted and changed when needed and all CCs are in the loop.

Being able to watch the QSMP and not feel like any POV I watch is being mistreated or ignored is great. I couldn't watch anything but lore streams with the DSMP because Bad was my main POV and it made me so uncomfortable to watch him being made fun of constantly and be treated as a joke.

The QSMP feels like a community of people, instead of factions trying to go against each other. DSMP was my first and only smp experience and while it was great at first, it quickly soured. The QSMP treats it's CCs and fandom as if they genuinely matter, making sure everyone is welcomed and no one is isolated.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: This is my first time writing a threesome. And I thought who better to do it with than KiriBaku and F!Reader. I hope it doesn't suck. Let me know! Thanks for checking this out, you guys.

C/W ::: Threesome (KiriBaku + F!Reader), F!Reader slightly spies on the two of them, nearly invisible coercion, Oral {M->F and a little later {F->M}, unprotected sex P->V, pulling out & cumming on F! back, F!'s first time with 2 men at the same time. I can't imagine a bad time would be had by anyone who's with these 2, aged up characters, Kiri is 25 and Kats is around there (I don't know how close they are in age canonically, so deal? Or tell me =). If I missed anything, grammatically or warning wise, let me know and I'll fix it. Thanks, hope you all enjoy this!

WC ::: 4,101

You stood there like a hypnotized idiot, staring at the 2 men as they talked over the picnic table at their campsite.

They noticed your attention. They noticed the first time, the third time. The twelfth time. And whatever number this time was.

You wondered if they were there together together. The way that they fed each other little bites of fruit at breakfast had you thinking. Had you hoping if you were being honest. Not that it'd make a difference. You were over here and they were over there.

The guys waved at you, smiling, laughing at your blank stare.

What they (probably) didn't know is that you were imagining what it would be like to be bent over the table they were eating at. Fucked by either one of them and sucking on the cock of the one who wasn't fucking you. You thought you were being discreet. Isn't that always what you think when you're lost in a daydream?

One of them had gotten up from the table and took a less direct route to where you were standing next to the tree. You were so focused on the blonde that you didn't notice the redhead coming up behind you.

The dazed look on your face was so cute, your finger stuck between your teeth and your thighs clenched together, adjusting your stance to create some friction from your jeans on your puffy clit. It was becoming unbearable. You turned to head back to your site and climb inside of your sleeping bag to ease the nagging of your cunt.

"Hi?" You nearly jumped out of your skin at the word. "OH ... oh my god. Hi. Sorry. There's just a little family of gray squirrels um, the other side of your camp. And I've been w-watchin' 'em." You tried. Your face was scrunched up as you forced yourself to lie to the redhead.

The man laughed. "Squirrels, huh. Yeah, gray squirrels are cute ... or whatever. Um, my friend and I thought maybe you were staring at us and we were going to invite you over to sit with us. If you wanted? Are you ... are you here by yourself? My name is Eijiro ... Kirishima. You can call me Kiri, though.

You smile and nod. "Yeah? I mean, yeah. I'd like that. I am here alone. 'S not much fun out here without some company." Kirishima turns to walk and leads the way to his camp where the blonde is sitting.

He doesn't look as friendly as Kirishima. But you've been known to have bad judgment before. So you give him a chance and you approach him with a sweet little smile and extend your hand. He doesn't do anything but take it and pull you down onto the bench of the picnic table between his spread legs.

"Pretty little mouth you got there." The blonde says. "Good call, Kiri." Kiri smiles and puffs his chest out playfully. "She does have a sweet lookin' little mouth, huh, Kats?" He asked.

Kirishima sits in front of you and reaches out to brush your hair away from your neck. He leans in and whispers in your ear, "So, what are you into?" You're taken aback by the question and unsure of how to answer it. "What ... what do you mean?" You stammer. "Camping? Mmm, I come out here sometimes when I have to get some clarity." You look at the blonde. "I didn't catch your name?"

Bakugo smirks. "Katsuki. Bakugo. And he wasn't asking whether or not you like camping ner--" He was interrupted by Kiri.

"Kats! Play nice with our new friend. Kirishima put his face back down against your skin and took a soft breath in. "Hohhh shit, man, she smells real pretty, too."

Katsuki brushes the hair aside from behind you and lines his nose up with the soft, warm spot on your neck just below your ear. "You're right. Pretty. Like ... like fucking vanilla and cinnamon. And like before sex." You swallow hard and Kirishima moves his head back to look at you. "See? He thinks so, too." The two men look back at each other and nod at some unspoken exchange that took place between them just seconds ago.

"You know," Katsuki said, "we were really hoping to run into someone out here this weekend. His hands were hot as they sat on your shoulders, occasionally giving you a little squeeze. Trying to reiterate their intentions.

"F-find some-someone? For what?" You asked. The sky was getting dark and the wind was picking up. "Why were you guys looking for someone?"

They both huffed a little breath through their noses and Kirishima said, "Fffor ..." he kissed the left side of your neck. Katsuki finished his sentence, "thisss." His lips found their way to the right side of your neck. They felt a little dry against your skin. But the heat coming off of them was undeniable. You try to close the space between one side of your neck but all that does is open up further for the other side to be touched.

"Smells s'good, fuck." Katsuki mutters to himself.

You let out a squeak as the situation settled into your brain. "O- oh. Oh! For that. I ... *aheh* I ... Ok."

No sooner had you finished figuring that out than a rumble of thunder spread through the atmosphere. It startled you so badly that you jumped back against Katsuki's chest and pulled Eijiro closer to you, his chest to yours. "Jesus fuck!" You yelled. "I h- thunder scares me sometimes. If I'm outside, anyway.

"Thunder scares you?" Kirishima asked.

You nodded, "Mhm, ever since I was a kid. I know it can't hurt me. But just the idea that the only tangible thing about is sound, I dunno. It fucks with my head."

Kirishima stood and pulled your hand, his eyes asking you to join him. You watched him as he tilted his head to their tent, urging Katsuki to guide you up and over there with him and you. Katsuki stood and took your other hand and they smiled at you as they gently brought you closer to where they had set everything up.

You weren't exactly resisting their guidance. But your feet were heavy as you plodded over with them. They were walking plenty fast enough to get all of you over there.

"This is us." Kirishima said. Katsuki began to unzip the door and he held it open for the two of you to walk in.

The tent was more like a tiny cabin; there was a little space just inside where shoes could be taken off and left there so no dirt would be tracked around in the sleeping area.

Once the three of you were in, the 2 guys took their shirts off and tossed them aside onto the bed. Kirishima motioned for you to come over to him and you walked there like you had no choice in the matter. Like he willed you there. And so it was.

He raised his arms out and put his hands on your shoulders. Tilting his chin down, he looked up at you through heavy lashes. "You ever been with 2 guys before, pretty girl?" Closing the space between you, he rubbed his nose against yours and flashed you a perfect smile. It brought up a heat in your stomach. You didn't know if you were nervous or excited. Nauseous or getting aroused.

"Don't be stupid, loser! She wouldn't be here if she didn't know what was going on!" Katsuki yelled.

"Excuse my friend ... he's always in a bad mood." Kirishima said as he glared over your shoulder at him. You nod and roll the edge of your hoodie between your finger and thumb.

Katsuki took the opportunity to pull you back against his bare chest and wrap his arms around you. "You're so cute. So much smaller than me." He laughed. "So soft." He whispered into your ear as he ran his hands over your waist, stomach and thighs. "Don't be afraid of us. We promise we're not gonna hurt'cha. Maybe stretch you out some ---"

"Bakugo! Don't scare her!" Kirishima tried to get his brazen friend back in line once again, but he had a smile on his face all the same.

You took the time while they had another quiet exchange to really look around. There was some kind of thick mattress under the 2 sleeping bags that had been zipped together to make one large one. You briefly counted 6 pillows. "You guys like pillows." You laughed for the first time since being brought here.

"Mhm, pillows = comfort. Speaking of comfort, you pretty little thing, why don't we get you more comfortable. May ... may I take your sweatshirt?" Kirishima asked as he rolled his thick fingers just under the hem of the piece of clothing you'd grown accustomed to fidgeting with. You put your arms up over your head so he could pull it off.

Kirishima stepped back for a moment and admired your body in your tank top and jeans. He had a smile on his face as he watched your breasts rise with each shallow breath you took. He pulled his eyes away and turned to Katsuki. "I think that's a good start." Bakugo said.

"I think so." Kirishima looked back at you with a little wink. "What d'you think, pretty? You good with us taking your hoodie off? You look real good ... real good to us. Isn't that right, Kats?" Kirishima asked him.

Katsuki nodded and walked up to you. He put his hands on your shoulders and tilted his head down to look you in the eyes. "We want you to feel good. To feel comfortable. You think you can do that for us? We just wanna have some fun." He shot a half smile at you and put his hand out for Kirishima to come over to him.

He walked to Katsuki and took his outstretched hand and stood close to him. Kirishima looked down at him and put his left hand on the back of his head, pulling him in for a slow, exaggerated kiss. You could see their tongues wrapping around each other.

"Mhmph ..." You exhaled a whine that was full of breath you didn't realize you'd been holding back. You hadn't noticed until you saw their tongues swirling around each other, but you were incredibly turned on. Your clit was throbbing and the wetness that had been slowly forming in your panties was becoming uncomfortable.

The two men pulled back from their kiss and smiled at you, their heads still touching. "We can make you feel so good." Katsuki whispered to you. "Do you want to? Do you want to have some fun and learn some new things?"

Kirishima got down on his knees and put his hands on the buttons of your jeans. "Is this ok, just gonna take your jeans off, yeah?" Kirishima asked you. You nodded. It was all you could do. You didn't want to talk and ruin the moment. You wanted to be quiet and watch as they slowly peeled off your clothing like you were a present they'd been waiting for.

Katsuki pulled the elastic waist of your tank top out and over your breasts, letting it fall back against you. He reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Kirishima pulled down your jeans and panties and said, "Looks like she wants to." He kissed your thighs, letting his lips trail over your goosebump ridden skin.

"Are you cold, pretty? Let's go climb into the sleeping bag." Katsuki said.

It wasn't that you were cold, necessarily. But you had never felt so exposed in front of someone. Let alone 2 people. And yet, you had never felt so at ease. It was a strange combination.

Katsuki took your hand and led you to the sleeping bags. He lifted the flap and stepped back, nodding for you to go inside. You crawled in and situated yourself on the plush mattress, watching as the removed their pants, staying in just their boxers. The guys climbed in on either side of you.

You laid on your back, hands at your sides. You didn't know what to do with them having only been with 1 person at a time before this. They got settled on their sides, heads in their hands, watching you. Waiting for you.

Kirishima leaned over your tits and pulled Katsuki in for another kiss. Their eyes were locked on each other as they did so.

It was erotic. You had never seen two people kiss like this before. Katsuki had his hand on Kirishima's shoulder, his fingers squeezing the muscle there with each brush of their lips.

"Kiri, you wanna taste her?" Bakugo asked.

Kirishima nodded. "Yeah, yeah I do." He lowered himself down onto his stomach and scooted closer over to you. His face was between your legs, his eyes looking up at you as he brought his hand up and pushed your thighs apart. "Mmm, fuck, so wet for us already?" He asked. He dipped his finger into your folds and ran it up to your clit. "So wet, Kats. You wanna see?" Kirishima asked.

He pulled his finger out of you and held it out for Katsuki to suck on. "Yeah, so sweet. So fucking sweet, Kiri." You couldn't help but arch your back and push yourself down closer to Kirishima's fingers. They were just out of reach, though. "Kats, she's following my fingers. Watch ..." Kirishima said. He dipped a finger just inside your cunt and swirled it around the entrance.

The way you reacted to him caught Bakugo's attention almost immediately. You could hear how wet you'd gotten and the moan you let leave your lips was nothing short of filthy. And the sound your pussy made against his hand made you even wetter.

Katsuki crawled over you and propped himself up on his elbows above you, his face directly above yours. "Look at me." He said. "I want to see what you look like when you come. Kiri's gonna make sure you cum. But your eyes will stay on me. Got it, princess?" Katsuki asked you.

You nodded and whispered, "Yes." It occurred to you that you haven't really spoken since you got into the tent. Did you even tell them your name? You honestly couldn't remember and you honestly didn't care. You were responding to their little pet names for you marvelously.

Kirishima lowered himself back down and put his tongue flat against your clit, letting it move up and down. He flicked it against the sensitive bundle of nerves and then swirled it around it.

Bakugo lowered himself down and brought his lips to yours. He dipped his tongue inside of your mouth, finding yours, as Kirishima brought you closer to the edge of an orgasm. Katsuki brought his hand down and swiped a finger across your nipple, flicking it, sending shockwaves of pleasure to your cunt.

"Mmmph, mmmhmmmph" You moaned into Bakugo's mouth.

"Shhh, shh, pretty. I wanna hear you. Let me hear you come." Bakugo whispered as he pulled back from your mouth.

Kirishima wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, flicking his tongue back and forth rapidly. Bakugo watched as you writhed around, grinding yourself against Kirishima's face. Covering him with your slick as Katsuki put your hands on the back of Kiri's head so you could push him further into your dribbling cunt.

He was doing so perfectly on his own that all you could bring your hands to do was grab ahold of his hair and tug on it a little. He needed no guidance whatsoever.

Your body tensed up. Katsuki knew what was happening. He pulled your chin towards him and looked deep into your eyes. "Keep 'em open, baby. I wanna watch you."

Kirishima sucked harder and flicked his tongue faster. He inserted two of his fingers and began to pump them in and out of you. Dragging them over and over your walls. The sensations filling your body and the noises filling the air, all were bringing you over the edge.

You looked at Katsuki as best you could. Your eyes screwed shut at the height of your orgasm. "That's right, princess. Good girl. Just like that." He smiled. "Awesome, Kiri." Katsuki said. He ran his hand through Kirishima's hair, roughing it up a bit.

You laid there against Katsuki, panting. Kirishima had scooted up next to you, his face still wet with your juices. He kissed your neck and whispered in your ear, "So fucking sweet. Thank you for letting us play with you. You're so pretty. We just had to, baby."

Katsuki sat up and adjusted himself to sit up against the pillows. He pulled you up onto his chest and Kirishima scooted up behind you. His chest against your back. You could feel his cock hard against your ass. It was so hard, so big.

Katsuki tilted his head down and kissed you, running his tongue across your lips. You opened your mouth and his tongue was pushing its way into your mouth.

"Look at me, pretty." Katsuki said as he pulled back. You looked up at him. "You still want us?" He asked. You nodded. "You want us to fuck you, pretty baby? Let you feel us 'n let us feel you?" Katsuki asked. You nodded again. "Say it. Say you want us to fuck you."

"I want you to fuck me." You whispered. "Please." You added, meekly.

"Say no more." Katsuki pulled his boxers off and revealed his cock. It was big. Thick. You couldn't help but reach out and wrap your hand around it, stroking it.

You leaned down and brought your lips to it, kissing the head before opening your mouth and taking it in. "Mmmmph!" You moaned as Katsuki put his hand on the back of your head and pushed himself further into your throat. "Already breathin' through her nose. What a good girl you - ah fuck - are."

You pulled back and stroked him, twisting your hand as you did. "She's got a nice little mouth, Kats. Don't you think?" Kirishima asked. "She looks so pretty with your cock in her mouth." He added.

"Hey," Kirishima scooted down and pulled off his boxers, revealing his hard, throbbing cock. You could see the precum leaking out of the tip. "Can I fuck you now, pretty girl?" Kirishima asked, looking down at you, smiling and stroking himself at a lazy pace. "You look so good down there with Kats' cock in your mouth. I want to make you feel good, too."

You looked over your shoulder at Kirishima, nodding. You spread your legs and Kirishima positioned himself behind you. He squeezed your ass and he pushed himself into your dripping cunt. You could feel him stretching you out, filling you up. Your pussy looked so pretty with Kirishima moving in and out of you. The slick glistening on him in the shadowy light of the afternoon.

He pushed himself all the way in, bottoming out inside of you, his hips pressed against your ass. "Fffuuuuck ... oh, oh shit." Kirishima began to laugh and you looked up at Katsuki to see if this was typical behavior of his when he's fucking someone. He tilted his head to the left and watched himself disappear in your body. "I - hooo shit - did we … did we even get your name?"

"Mmmm, yeah, pretty girl. You never told us your name." Katsuki said, reaching out and running his thumb across your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked on it, swirling your tongue around it. "Tell us your name, baby." He said.

You let Katsuki's thumb out of your mouth and said, "Y/n. It's y/n."

"Well, hello, y/n. It's nice to ... have met you? Meet you? It's nice to have you here with us today." Katsuki said, fumbling for the right words as you ran your hand up and down his cock.

"Mhm, mhm, s'nice to meet you both, t- ... fuck, too. Heh, sorry. Just feels so damn good what Kiri's doing back there."

Kiri smiled at Kats and gave him a smug look. "You hear that, Kats? I feel so damn good back here." Kats flipped him off and rolled his eyes. "Whatever, shitty hair. I could make her brain come pourin' out of her ears. So shut the hell up." He said laughing.

The three of you continued to fuck like that, the tent filling up with the sound of your moans and the smell of sex. You could feel yourself getting close to coming again. Katsuki knew, he could see it all over your face; the way your eyes stayed shut for longer and longer amounts of time. How your mouth would hang open. Down to the turn of your head when Kiri hit those magical little spots inside of you.

"You close, pretty?" Katsuki asked. You nodded. "Me, too, pretty girl. Me, too."

You came. Hard. Your walls tightened around Kirishima's cock, forcing him to pull out of you and cum on your back, your ass. "Hohhh fuckshitfuck! Almost didn't make it there!" He laughed as he patted your ass cheeks and watched them bounce back against his palms.

You worked Kats’ dick through your second orgasm, bringing him to his first. Your mouth, ever diligent around his wide cock, sucking and slurping on it, minding your hand placement. Katsuki's cock began to throb harder and twitch against your lips and fingers. "You ready, pretty girl? You ready for me to cum in your mouth? Huh, princess?" You nodded and opened your mouth, holding your tongue out for him to cum on.

"Awwwh, fuck ... yeah. Good girl. Good girl. There you go. Oh shit ... oh shit." Katsuki watched you, your mouth, your eyes, his cum dripping down your chin. "Oh my god. Fuck, that was good. That was good." He smiled and pulled you up to his chest.

The 3 of you laid there, breathing hard and enjoying the afterglow of a good fuck.

"We're gonna have to do this again." Katsuki said.

"For sure. You were amazing, pretty. So good." Kirishima said as he ran his hand up and down your curvy sides and back. "So soft."

"So fucking sweet." Bakugo added. "Thank you for playing with us." He kissed the top of your head.

You didn't know what to say. It was all so overwhelming. You didn't want to go, either. But it felt awkward to impose yourself on their time together out here. So you said your goodbyes, dressed yourself, and headed back to your campsite, where you climbed into your tent and slept until the sun cycled through once again.

You didn't see Katsuki or Kirishima the next day. But you heard them from their tent. Moaning and talking loudly. It made you smile. It made you miss them. You hoped that they were enjoying one another. Maybe you'd find them again before you all left.

And now, you had a newfound love for camping. And you had a newfound love for being used by two hot guys who wanted nothing but to make you feel good and feel good with you. So maybe you'd come back with a plan. A plan to find them and bring them back to your little campsite, where you could lay under the stars and learn a little more about each other. Learn a little more about how you can make each other feel.

That sounded nice. And you could only hope that they would think so, too. After all, there were a lot of days left in the season and you didn't have anything better to do.

The sun woke you up the next morning. The leftover raindrops on the top of your tent looked so pretty, casting almost prism like lights across the small space. You rolled your sleeping bag down and crawled over to unzip the door. Stepping out, you stretched. For the first time in a long time you felt like you were actually breathing.

You looked over at where the guys' site was, but it was empty. "Damn." Turning back to your little spot, you noticed a plastic bag with a piece of paper in it, stashed between two small rocks.

"Hey pretty,

Thanks for playing with us.

Give either one of us a call if you want to reconnect. 

Kats wants to fuck you this time so he’s really hoping you’ll call. 

xoxo

~ Kiri (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

--> BAKUGO (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

Later, princess 

Taglist ::: @callm3senpaii @millennialmagicalgirl @darkstarlight82

[crow-stars]

❝POOL FLOATS❞

❦summary; it's a bit daunting to be swimming when the sea is so dark, though thankfully you have a mermaid willing to help you ♪the characters in this story; gn!reader, jade leech ✎word count; 1,029 ❀what do the ghosts say?; romantic, swimming date/beach date, jade turns into his mer form,almost getting drowned (lovingly), fluff times :D ☛the author's notes; fun fact; i can't swim and i will never learn because i am terrified of almost drowning again. so if the writing for swimming is weird, now you know ☪look at the catalogue?

“The water’s fine, don’t worry about it.” 

Sometimes, with Jade’s expression, you really doubt that. Regardless, you take the outstretched hand offered to you, letting Jade lead you further into the water. The first contact against your skill makes a chill run down your spine and you make a sound out of surprise. 

“Ack! Jade!” The grin that curls onto your partner’s feels almost all too intentional than you’d like. “You said the water was fine!” 

A chuckle came from Jade as he gently continued to urge you into the water, now both of your hands in his, leaving you with no other choice but to continue further into the cold waters. “It is.” 

He pauses, grinning a bit wider, showing off those sharp pearly whites he loves to teasingly gnash at you sometimes. “Well, perhaps for me. I’m quite used to the cold.” 

With a groan from you and a laugh from Jade, the two of you continue to travel further into the water until you’ve been submerged up to your waist. The water is bitingly cold, a small shiver taking your body every few seconds. Jade was already in the water, floating up and down as he waited for you to fully emerge yourself in the water. 

“Oh come on, just a bit more.” Jade smiles as he tries to pull you further into the water. You huff and tug back, eyes on each other. 

“Give me a break, it’s cold!” Jade only laughs at your complaints, creeping closer to you with that signature smile of his. 

“Just put your whole body in.” Another tug, bringing you further into the water. It makes another chill run through your body, frowning at Jade. “It’ll be better to take it all in one go.” 

“Nope. I am not going to be freezing in the water.” 

Jade shakes his head in amusement and lets go of your hands after a quick peck on the back, apparently deciding to let you journey deeper on your own. You’re thankful, letting out a breath. 

Left to your own devices, you slowly creep deeper into the sea, losing track of where Jade went, though you know he must be close by. Eventually, you’re able to sink further into the depths of the water, able to swim further out of the shore on your own. 

“Okay Jade, I’m finally in the water, are you happy now?” You call out to Jade, swimming a bit before you look around you, searching for that brightly colored hair that always helped you identify exactly where your boyfriend was. 

Except, you don’t find it, brows furrowing as you take another sweep of your surroundings. You find yourself pausing in your strokes, keeping yourself afloat as you look around again. Nothing around you, just the shore a bit a ways away and the blue sea around you. 

“Jade?” You say his name again, body shivering again, but for a different reason. “Jade, where are you?” 

The crashing of waves are all that answer you. You feel seaweed brush against your leg, which you languidly kick away before it brushes against you again. A displeased noise leaves you and you grumble about Jade’s disappearance from your sight. 

Around that time is when you feel something curl around your ankle, tugging you down a bit. You yelp and try to tug your foot away, which only gains another tug, dipping you further towards the water. Another shiver, this time one that shocks at your chest and you struggle to get whatever was around your ankle off, kicking at it with your other foot, which is quickly restrained as well. You begin to feel yourself panic, thrashing around in the water in a struggle to free yourself. 

Your head dips below the water just as you gasp for breath, holding your breath, eyes shut tightly, shivers and tremors shocking your body. 

“Hehe, look at you all trembling. Such a sight.” 

Hearing that oh so familiar, and frankly right now infuriating, voice, your eyes snap open, meeting a pair of pastel and muddy yellow eyes that you’ve always found yourself staring into. There your boyfriend Jade was in all his glory, skin a pale green color and scales peppering his body. There’s a cheeky grin spread across his lips, eyes alight with the mischievous you’ve always loved and hated (sometimes). He has your body coiled by his tail, keeping your arms close to you, probably to prevent you from hitting him. 

If you could scream at him right now, you would.

“Oh, don’t be mad at me.” Jade coos, pulling you closer to hug you. His cheek rubs against yours in an affectionate manner that only manages to simmer your anger a bit. “I only wanted to spook you a bit. Nothing too dangerous.” 

Jade laughs softly and brings you back to the surface, where you take in a deep breath of air, making sure to gulp in a few good breaths. Jade waits patiently, loosening his hold on you just enough for you to slip your arms out. 

What you immediately do is hit a fist against Jade’s chest, all of which makes him burst into laughter and makes you all the more angrier. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” 

“I didn’t drag you that far.” 

“You scared me senseless Jade! I thought I was going to die!” 

“I would never let you die, you’re too precious for that.” 

You glare sharply at Jade, yet he only smiles in an amused manner. It’s clear that you won’t be getting much remorse out of him and only laughter and teases. So, you sigh and lean your head on Jade’s shoulder, still steaming with anger. Jade takes this and wraps his arms around you, hugging you close to his body. 

The rest of the day is spent with Jade’s tail loosely wrapped around your body, keeping you afloat on his chest as you talk together. Of course, there are a few jabs targeted towards Jade, to which he apologies by nipping at your ear in a teasing manner and has you tug his hair in annoyance. 

Yet, besides that, the afternoon was spent well.

[taintedtort]

hey hey hey~y guess who again?you made it perfectly clear with how happy you are and it makes me even happier that you reacted that way!ehe~e.

i promise i will wait for every one of your works, but i suddenly got an idea while reading one of your works!one about sleeping headcanons.and the idea is, maybe you will be interested to write how reader and characters do each others hairs?like, reader making a character some sort of hairstyle/adding accesory to them and character does so in return.hope my description makes any sense.and as for characters, with Aether, Albedo, Ayaka and Shenhe???

and if its hard to write this request for you, then dont worry!but can you imagine how nice it would be to braid Aether's hairs???and Ayaka being separeted from worlds simplest pleasures certainly deserves little "girl time".no???also i wish you goodest of lucks!

- 🦊 anon

prompt ✧ doing their hair

characters ✧ aether, shenhe, ayaka, xiao, kazuha, wanderer

warnings ✧ gn!reader, none!

a/n ✧ hello again! i added a few more characters if that’s alr? (i also saw your sweet words in my inbox, thank you) ALSO ALSO i’m writing a part 2 for them doing your hair so if you wanna look for that it’ll be up a few days after this

AETHER

✧ he loves letting you do his hair. honestly his arms get tired after a while because it’s so long, but when you do it he just gets to sit back and relax. he wont ask you to do it first, but if you insist you want to he‘ll let you. doesn’t mind going out of his usual hairstyle either, he just lets you play around with it. do whatever you want: high ponytail, claw clip, flowers, colorful clips, etc.

"you want to do my hair? sure, why not."

SHENHE

✧ her hair is very long and sometimes she doesn’t feel like managing it, so that’s where you come in. you gladly offer to brush out and rebraid her hair. she wouldn’t stray far from her original hairstyle, but she may let you do something different with it— no guarantee she‘ll wear it out though. not a fan of clips, her hair is too thick for them anyway. she does very much enjoy your fingers running across her scalp though.

"you’ll brush my hair for me? if you insist."

AYAKA

✧ she thought she wouldn’t like it at first because ayato used to do her hair when they were younger, but she soon figured out that was because he wasn’t gentle. your fingers carefully swept through her hair while pulling it up in her usual ponytail. she ended up closing her eyes without even realizing. when you finished you could tell she was disappointed, so you just continued to play with it. she sat there feeling like she was in heaven. you end up having to do her hair at least once a week.

"would you mind playing with my hair again? please."

XIAO

✧ was reluctant at first. his hair is short so he doesn’t bother doing anything with it and he doesn’t understand why you would want to play with it. you’d have to explain that you think his hair is super soft and that’d it’d be relaxing for him before he agrees. once he feels your nails run across his scalp he’s down. instantly melts against you and might doze off. that gives you the chance to put cute clips in his hair that he’d normally never let you do.

"you think it’s soft? really?"

KAZUHA

✧ he was happy you asked! he had no problem with you putting his hair in braids or adding colorful accessories, he was just glad you were having fun. he wouldn’t get embarrassed when you’d finish one hairstyle before pulling back and snickering a little before starting another. he liked that he was able to make you laugh, even if it was because he looked silly. he’d sit and talk to you, or listen to you talk, and it would overall just be a cute activity.

"having fun?"

WANDERER

✧ you’d have to time your approach right in order for him to let you anywhere near his hair. honestly it was better to not even ask, just run your fingers through his hair after he gets home and flops next to you with a huge, tired sigh. because he’s so tired, the sensation feels heavenly and he’d let himself indulge. if you started tugging at it like you were putting it in a ponytail, he’d pull your hand off, so you have to resist your urges. but i think if you beg enough while he’s in a good mood, he‘ll let you do something with it.

"fine! do as you please. archons, you’re so needy."

[demaparbat-hp]

hi dema! i’m learning how to do digital art, would you mind sharing your coloring process? coloring (and lineart) is the hardest thing for me to do T_T… what brushes do you use for coloring and how do you not make it look muddy? i’ve been trying to follow tutorials from different artists on youtube but i find my work to look so muddy… thank u in advance >__<

Hi, and thank you for thinking about me for advice! I'm honoured to share a bit of my process, nerve-wracking as that is for my shy self, and hopefully help you out as much as I can. Forgive me if I don't express myself very clearly—I have a bit of a hard time explaining these things. Now, let's get started, shall we?

I'll be using the first panel of this artwork as an example.

My process is pretty straight-forward for most artworks. Make a sketch, draw the lineart, and follow a self-made guideline for coloring and rendering.

Sometimes I'll throw the guideline to the trash bin and start experimenting with brushes and chiaroscuro and color palettes, but that doesn't happen most of the time and, when it does, it's more a challenge than anything else, and not really what I think you're looking for.

I'll include my usual steps here, however, and like I said earlier, these steps are more like what you'd call guidelines than actual rules.

(I just realized I didn't save the sketch for this artwork. Oops)

This is the lineart!

I tend to think that details bore me and are actually pretty exhausting to do, but then I go and make things as clear and detailed as I can. Because I'm a hypocrite like that.

I did try to keep things simple here, though, mostly because I had to go through three other panels and didn't want to burn out my fuel mid-process.

Base colors! The blush (and Zuko's scar!) I draw in a different layer in case I need adjusting the brightness or saturation later.

It's time for shadows!

Pick a color depending on the atmosphere you want the artwork to have. Is it a cozy, warm scene in a honey-tinted room, or is it a moment shared under the moonlight? The color choice should come as an answer to those questions—deep red for the first one and dark blue for the second.

Choose a color and make it dark and saturated. Then, play with the layer opacity! A darker shadow means harsher light, while less opacity works best for a softer look. See the difference? It's subtle, but it's there.

Of course, this is my personal choice. The way shadows are drawn and color is chosen depends on the artist and the artwork. I choose to play with a more simple coloring style, keeping shadows from blending into each other, but you may like a more realistic approach to shadows and colors.

My best advice? Try doing it every way you can, but in the end choose what works best for you. Whatever feels more comfortable, whatever you enjoy drawing the most. And then work to improve it. Love the little proof that you've gotten better, even if it's subtle.

And talking about subtlety...

I love to play with gradients. I use them mostly to give the artwork some form of atmosphere, and make it look cohesive and whole. A light gradient in the color and direction of the shadows will help the characters blend with the background, as will another gradient in lighter colors for the light.

Get creative with gradients! Use them so the lights feel brighter and the shadows darker.

Now it's time to work with the lineart again.

The pure black lineart makes the artwork look harsher, sharper, so I tend to give it some color to soften its edges and compliment the rest of the drawing. In darker shades as the rest of the colors, growing more saturated as the light comes closer.

I love to make the characters' eyes pop and glow! It's really fun what you can do by just messing a bit with the tones of the lineart.

Finally, I play with the level correction. A high contrast will help your artwork stand out and look brighter. See the difference?

And it's done!

Sometimes I like to add other effects or details, but this is the very, very rough shape of my usual process, and thus what I thought you'd like to see.

Once again, I'd like to point out that this is what works for me, and a large part of improving as an artist is just fooling around and messing up until you find the tools and tricks you're most comfortable with.

So keep drawing those muddy shadows and colors! They're only a step of the process.

[spacecolonie]

i adore your paintings so muchhh would you happen to have any other tips or tutorials for your process? anything from thumbnailing all the way to final render

Thank you 😭♥ I appreciate that a lot!! To start with I've got my advice tag (both new and veeery old stuff lol), & my youtube has a couple of speedpaints on it, one with commentary including process, brushes etc

In terms of general stuff about how I approach painting, I tend to tailor the method to the desired outcome. I talk about it more in depth on this post here, I also link to some references & tutorials that I really enjoy/recommend!

Besides that though, I guess I can do a little walkthrough of the Whisper & Tangle painting I uploaded a few months ago, since I tried something new with it that I pseudo integrated into my workflow & could be fun to talk about? 🤔

SO yes, I do always thumbnail when I'm doing a bigger painting, and they're definitely not pretty LOL. I usually use the colour fill lasso just to block in basic shapes and values with a gradient map slapped on the top -- I ended up swapping the values around in the end because it let me use the fireflies as the sole light source, making it more character focused! Then it's the usual process of resketching it all & flatting in the base colours (I also added Whisper's wisps hehe), then adding shading:

This is how I usually approach it, w/ all the shading layers clipped to the original flats to preserve editing. Multiply, screen & overlay are the most common layer modes I use while doing this, and if I'm ever struggling I'll sometimes add a gradient map too in order to unify awkward colours etc. The new thing I tried for this painting was doing what's often nicknamed as a 'clown pass' -- which is using hard edged shapes to create an easily-accessible selection mask for each part:

It looks Super funny but I actually found it very helpful, and I ended up using it to select & cut out all of their body parts onto seperate layers, which were then alpha locked. It meant I could go ham w/ large or textured brushes, smudges etc without worrying about losing those edges, or accidentally over-rendering and screwing up the anatomy in the process!!

I've kept doing something similar since, though it's a bit more dialed back; mainly using the lasso select to chop it up directly and preserve specific/necessary edges, grouping up similar body parts on a single layer etc.

After doing all that, I sat down and started rendering. The background was all blocked in & detailed with a hard round brush and these amazing brushes from Devin Elle Kurtz. There isn't anything super insightful that I think I could type on how I render, but I do have that speedpaint I mentioned earlier that'll probably shed more light. It's just a lot of eyedropping & painting, rinse and repeat

When rendering is done I usually add a concoction of adjustment layers, as well as an overlay w/ a noise texture on it. I also sharpen it all after doing so! These are the ones that I ended up adding for this painting:

The dupe & blur is a fun thing that doesn't always work, but it looks super neat when the painting itself calls for it, especially when paired w/ that noise texture. It can make stuff look like an old/low quality photograph or recording -- here's another example w/ a shadow and amy doodle I posted a few months ago:

That's about it for this painting, the majority of the time spent on it was honestly me rendering those damn leaves 🥲 Very tedious but worth it & it was a really good learning experience. I'm not sure if any of this will prove useful but thank you so much for sending in the ask, & if you (or anyone else reading this) wants a similar breakdown for a different painting of mine, please do let me know and I'll try my best to do one!! 🥺💞