#is it romantic or platonic? squint at it and let me know what you find

[safereturn]

let me hold your hand (and dance around the flames)

Another Ember Island Players Fic Word Count: 1956 Zutara one-shot Read on ao3

Zuko is sure his shame will consume him, obliterate him, turn him to ashes and blow him away in the wind. The only evidence of his existence will be that awful play and the wake of destruction caused by his own implosion.

And yet, it pales in comparison to the anger flowing off the water bender walking beside him. Fearing retribution, he keeps his gaze steadily ahead, focusing on the trio walking in front of them. Sokka, Suki, and Toph chatter about their portrayal; Toph lets out a roar that sends Sokka yelping into Suki’s side. Suki laughs so hard she snorts and slaps Sokka’s back as his cheeks tinge red. 

Zuko bites back a snarky comment. It’s simply propaganda, the events told with the inevitable agenda of a Fire Nation playwright, but at least they were written as comic reliefs. 

They weren’t failures and traitors. 

As they approach his family’s old vacation home, Katara’s sandal gets caught in the transition of cobblestone to sand. She loses her balance, but just as Zuko reaches a steadying arm out toward her, she rights herself on her own. Aang huffs behind him. 

Not to mention the resentment radiating off the young Avatar. Aang all but limps toward the house like a wounded puppy, head tucked into his chest. 

Katara pulls away from the group and storms off toward shore, back stiff, fists tight. Zuko slows to a stop as he watches her. She marches on to the beach, right where the tide stops overlapping the sand, and slumps to the ground, knees to her chest. 

The rest of the group carries on into the house. Aang sends one last glare at Zuko, then runs up the stairs and slams the door behind him, rattling the frame and sending an explosion of sound that evacuates nearby cicada-crickets from the trees. 

Zuko feels his chest constrict at the thought of following them inside the house. He isn’t claustrophobic–years spent at sea on a Fire Navy cruiser in close quarters with his crew desensitized him to any fears of being too enclosed. But there was a sort of heat burning under his skin. He was restless and itchy. Like if he walked into that house, he would explode, bringing the walls down around him in a terrible blaze.

Zuko glances over to the silhouette of Katara sitting in the sand again, still hunched, gently swaying back and forth with the tide. He’d seen her move like this once before, flying high over the ocean on Appa, the rain coming down around them. 

After confronting her mother’s killer, Katara had been near catatonic. They’d walked away from the quaking old man, but the further they got, the more she had withdrawn. Zuko had helped her climb onto Appa’s back, and she collapsed onto the saddle and stared blankly ahead. She might have been crying, but the rain had cast everything in a haze. As if it were all a dream. And then, like a child being comforted by a mother, she rocked herself side to side. 

She hadn’t spoken to him until they landed back at camp, and Katara had thrown her arms around him and granted him forgiveness. He remembers the warmth of her body against his, it had spread through his chest and she gave him a gentle squeeze before letting him go.

Zuko decides he would rather drown at her hand than suffocate amongst childhood memories. He approaches her as one would approach an injured turtle duck, softly and with no sudden movements.

“Go to bed, Aang.” Katara’s words are thick, tinged with finality that left no room for argument. It doesn’t escape him how maternal she sounds, as if she were scolding a petulant child. 

“It’s me,” he says. Karara peeks at him over her shoulder, then looks out toward the ocean. “I can go further down the shore if you want to be alone,” he offers, “but I’d rather not be in the house right now.”

He watches her shoulders rise as she fills her lungs with a long breath. Then, slowly, she places a hand on the sand beside her and gives it a pat. 

“You can stay.” She sounds tired now, but her tone is softer than her previous chiding. 

He sits cross legged beside her, sitting a little closer than intended, his shoulder brushing against hers. Zuko’s nerves were raw, his fingers had been trembling since the end of the first act. The gentle warmth of Katara’s arm against his was like an anchor, grounding him, giving him something to brace against. She doesn’t acknowledge it, she simply sways into him, then back, her chin resting atop her knees. 

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Zuko says. “That wasn’t a good play.”

Katara raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t write the play, Zuko.”

“No.” He grabs a handful of sand, it’s clumpy and coarse, still damp. Zuko squeezes it in his hand, then lets it crumble between his fingers. He does it again. “I'm just– sorry. I’m sorry you had to relive that. Relive me.”

She’s examining him. Zuko doesn’t dare make eye contact, but his skin prickles at the heat of her gaze on his face. It travels down his arms, to his hands, until she’s watching the grains of sand trickle between his fingertips. 

Again, he feels too large. He waits for his skin to burst open. 

“That wasn’t you on that stage, Zuko.”

“It was all the things I’ve done. All the ways I’ve hurt people.” 

How much good would he have to do to counter balance all the bad? Terrorizing citizens for any knowledge about the Avatar, burning down villages…

The Catacombs under Ba Sing Se.

The look of terror on Katara’s face, the smell of burning flesh, the cry that tore itself from her lips as she fought to get to Aang, fought to get them to the surface, fought against Azula, fought against him.

The look of anguish on Uncle’s face as he fought to keep Aang and Katara safe. 

Zuko chokes on a shuddering breath. His skin burns, his chest burns, his eyes burn.

“I’ve hurt so many people.”

So much blood.

Katara grasps his hand, grains of sand gently chafing against skin as she twines their fingers together. “Stop,” she whispers. “That was not you on that stage.”

His mind stutters, trying to pull himself from the memories. Katara squeezes his hand once and brushes her thumb over his knuckles. Back and forth. He sucks in a breath, then lets it whoosh out of his lungs. The tension in his shoulders drops. 

“You have done more than enough, Zuko.”

Enough. 

If there is wetness on his cheeks, Katara doesn’t mention it. She simply keeps rubbing soothing circles in his skin with her thumb. They watch the waves crash over the horizon.

 “Maybe I should apologize to Aang,” Zuko says, thinking of Aang’s glare. 

He can feel her deflate next to him, slumping into herself. Katara presses her face into her knees and heaves a sigh.

“He’s not angry with you,” she mumbles.  

“You didn’t see the look he gave me.”

Katara shakes her head and with a shrug says, “He’s angry with me. We had a fight at intermission.”

“What could he possibly be mad at you for?” Zuko saw the way Aang looked at Katara. He worshiped the ground she walked on, what could she have done that was so bad? And why would Aang take it out on him?

“It’s complicated.”

Zuko huffs. It’s not quite a laugh. “Try me.”

Katara gives him an uncertain look, then turns her gaze back to the ocean. Just when Zuko thinks she’ll ignore him, her voice breaks over the sound of the waves.

“Aang had… a hard time distinguishing between the play and reality. Ever since we met we’ve been really close. For months it was just me, Sokka, and Aang. And then Toph joined and it was the four of us. I always trusted them with my life, but it felt like Aang was on my side when Sokka and Toph pushed me too hard. He helped me through some pretty bad things, and I helped him, too.

“I found him in an iceberg, so I was possessive , I guess. He was going to save the world. My world. And I would have done anything–” Karata’s voice cuts off, followed by a frenetic breath. The waves wash higher on the shore, in time with her quick breaths. The water sweeps against their feet.

“I would have done anything to make him happy. He’s my best friend and of course I love him, but what he wants...” Katara heaves a shuddering breath. And then another. Her next words come quickly, garbled. “It’s too much. I’m trying to win a war, and so is he! But I can’t–I feel like I can’t even breathe.”

And then Katara makes an awful sound, a low whine cut off by a choked gasp. And then, even worse, she’s apologizing .

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, pulling her hand from his and swiping under her eyes. “This is stupid, just like that ridiculous actress.” Her hands leave behind grains of white sand on her cheeks. 

And for the first time, Katara looks defeated. Not even nine months ago, in a much colder continent, with her family's lives at stake and only a water whip to protect them did she look so small. She had built herself up with fury, indignation. She made up for what she didn’t know in determination. 

Now, with her eyes squeezed shut and shoulders hunched, there was nothing she could fight to make this hurt go away.

Zuko is at a loss for how to comfort her, and he hates himself for it. She so effortlessly brought him from the edge of panic. Forgave him when he was the face of everything that was taken from her. 

He thinks of her arms thrown around his neck. Her thumb brushing circles into his hand.  

And he does what he should’ve done when Katara sat numbly in Appa’s saddle. Zuko pulls Katara into his side, tucks her head into his shoulder, and hugs her. He winds his arms around her back, and sways her gently, his chin tucked over top of her head. Katara lets out a whimper, and then her arms circle around his waist. She buries her face into the crook where Zuko’s neck meets his shoulder. 

For a moment, all there is is the roar of the waves and his stiffness. He doesn’t want to jostle her, spook her. But her fists clench handfuls of his shirt and she is shaking, chest heaving with silent sobs. 

Zuko thinks of his mother and turtle duck bites and cries met with warm arms and soothing whispers. And he sways her, side to side, soothing a hand down her hair. She smells of sea salt and the old bath oils left in the wet room.

“Okay,” he says into her hair, “okay.”

It’s not okay. Zuko knows what it’s like to collapse under the weight of expectation, knows what it’s like to choke on the disappointment of others, knows the taste of desperation. It had almost killed him, back in that apartment in Ba Sing Se. And when he’d made it back to the Fire Nation on the basis of Aang’s murder, there were times he wished the fever had taken him. 

So much pain.

“Nothing like the actress,” he says. There is wetness and sand and shuddering breaths against his neck. “You are strong, this is strength.”

Katara takes a deep breath. Then another.

The waves wash back out to the ocean and quiet to a lull.

“You’ve given more than enough."

#zutara #avatar the last airbender #atla #is it romantic or platonic? squint at it and let me know what you find #zuko #katara #ember island players #ember island players fic #fanfiction #safereturn write fanfic #zuko has a panic attack #katara shoulders too many burdens #a civil wars song as a fic title #zutara fanfiction #Zutara fic #there is hugging #hurt/comfort #safereturn writes fanfic

[donatellawritings]

ahh hi tella!!! so happy that ur writing for obx :) i need to see how rafe would handle a latina sweeetheart 🎀 maybe she’s kie’s cousin? i just know he’d probably be such a cocky jerk ughhhhhh thx babe

omg i am blushing just thinking about this xo

you were laid on the warmed surface of your towel, leaning on your forearms as your sun kissed skin continued the drink in the intense rays, your white, cherry covered bikini clashing perfectly against your tanned complexion, you loved days at the beach, i mean, what better way to kill time, than to eat fresh fruits and listen to your favorite music, while taking in the stunning north carolina sun for all of its glory?

you continued to lay back, your sunglasses shielding your eyes as you hummed along to the amy winehouse song that flowed through your speakers. the sudden shadow that overtook your vision, now causing you to remove your sunglasses, your eyes squinted as you took in the sight of your cousin - kiara carrera.

your chest visibly rose and fell as you sighed, your squinted frown fading into a gleeful smile, “what’s up, kie?” you asked, your wispy eyelashes batting as she hastily dropped herself onto the sand beside you.

she quickly looked over her shoulder, rolling her eyes as she returned her attention back to you, her arm reaching over you stomach as she grabbed a red grape that sat in the sweaty sand-covered container that rested by your waist, “nothing, it’s just jj being — jj,” she sighed, popping the small fruit into her mouth.

you liked jj, platonically, of course.

“he seems nice,” you chirped, turning onto your stomach, the cherry decorated bikini bottoms that you wore, now wedged between the plush cheeks of your ass as it faced the warm sun.

kiara shrugs with a slight shake of her head, you could tell that she wanted to say more, but decided against it, the moment her eyes fell on your back.

your nails clashed against one another as you undid the knot that secured your bikini top, and concealed your perky breasts, eager to get as much of an even tan as possible, “why are you looking at me like that?” you questioned, reaching for a grape.

“i dunno — maybe it’s because you just undid your top?” kiara countered sarcastically.

you stuck out your tongue, placing the grape into your mouth, soft biting into the crispy fruit before resting the side of your cheek against the surface of your hand, “but, i hate tanlines,” you pouted with a laugh.

you and kiara were thick as thieves, and sure, the reasoning for why you had to live with your cousin wasn’t the most pleasant — but she loved having you around. you were raised as sisters, both of you holding the most intimate details about the other. and boy, did you both balance each other out well! you were bubbly and were quick to let anyone in, which served to be a detriment to you at times, nevertheless, you were a hopeless romantic who made it her business to find beauty in even the most mundane of things.

as you would say, you loved everything that was pretty. your blown-out hair was always shining, wispy eyelashes always curled immaculately, supple lips glazed in shimmery gloss, acrylic-enforced nails always painted in varying shades of pink or a simple french design. you loved wearing clothes that would show off your lower back and midriff - why? no rhyme or reason, you just like how it looked.

you had a heart of gold, wrapped in a bow, making it easy for those around you to be pulled into you and your dreamy ways.

it also made it just as easy for you to end up hurt and taken advantage of.

you and kiara remained engrossed in each other, laughter emitting from the both of you, “so, are you going to stay for the kegger or are we going home for dinner?” kie questioned, a smile remaining on her lips as she watched you try to tame your overwhelming fit of laughter.

you spoke with a giggle, “i don’t know, i promised tio that i’d help him with dinner, one of these days,” you whined, your innocent eyes searching kiara’s for any kind of pull towards your decision.

“okay, well we need to decide soon, before-” kiara began, her words ceasing as a large shadow suddenly towered over the two of you.

you straightened your neck, looking up through your lashes as the tall guy crouched down, your eyes following as he leveled with you. fuck, he was hot.

“shit, kie, y’didn’t tell me you had a secret hot sister,” the guy spoke, his bright blue eyes cutting into yours as swallowed thickly, your glossy lips now running dry.

you tried to remain as still as possible, your eyes widening at the realization that your bikini top was still untied.

“fuck off, rafe, she’s my cousin,” kiara scoffed with disgust.

you remained entranced by the guy, rafe, who kept his bright eyes on yours, a smirk tugging on his lips as he took a quick look over your shoulder, tilting his head at the sight of your untied top and barely-there bottoms.

“ah, cousin?” he asked mockingly, licking over his lips, “does this cousin of yours have a name?” he pushed, the glint of his chain peeking out from his crisp t-shirt now catching your eye.

you sweetly revealed your name, your oh-so slight accent spilling through as you subconsciously batted your pretty lashes up at rafe, “and you are,” you smiled, a toothy grin.

“rafe cameron,” he spoke sternly, ignoring kiara’s protests with a roll of his eyes as he leaned closer to you, until his lips reached your ear, “i’d shake your hand, but i wouldn’t want everyone at this beach to see what you got under there,” he cooed, his condescending tone like silk in your ears.

you couldn’t help but blush like a schoolgirl, much to your cousin’s dismay.

rafe decided to make push just a little bit more, “may i?” he spoke rhetorically, his large hands sliding down your shoulder blades.

“rafe, what the fu-”

you remained still, refusing to make eye contact with kiara as rafe tied the strings of your bikini top into a secure knot, “relax, kie - m’just making her decent,” he pulled away, standing firmly of his feet.

you’d be lying, if you said that you rafe’s hands against your warmed skin didn’t excite you. his touch was oddly tantalizing for you as you were forced to ignore the subtle ache that pulsed between your legs.

you pushed yourself off of your front, now standing directly across from rafe, his eyes shamelessly drinking in the sight of your chest as he was especially intrigued by the tan line that was revealed by the shifted cup of your bikini top.

“thank you, rafe” you spoke softly, holding out your hand as you took in the staggering height difference between you and the man before you, his buzz cut hair causing you to bashfully bite down into the sticky swell of your bottom lip.

rafe accepted your hand, the sound of his name rolling off of your tongue causing blood to rush to his length as he let out a dry chuckle, enclosing his fingers around your hand, watching closely as your breath slightly hitched from his subtle grip on your hand. you two remained like this for a beat as rafe sized you up — he could smell just how genuine and sweet you were, his mind carelessly wandering to how you’d look under him, taking him for all he has. you were much smaller than him, and it ticked a region in his tainted mind that suddenly ached to have you around in any way possible.

the sudden cut of a deep voice calling out didn’t even faze rafe as his lips curved into a smile, “yo! rafe, i’ve been looking everywhere for you man,” a taller blond guy appeared beside rafe.

rafe softly released your hand, before wiping the corners of his mouth with his index finger and thumb, exhaling sharply as he faced the blond, “well, top, i’ve been busy catchin’ up with good ol’ kie, and her pretty little cousin that’s she’s been hiding from us.”

the taller blond glanced at you, he was quicker to size you up, before redirecting rafe back into his original conversation. kiara softly grabbed your arm, carrying your speaker and container of grapes.

“let’s go home,” she nudged her head towards the street, completely privy to how dumbstruck rafe had made you. she could tell that you liked it and refused to ever allow rafe to get his hands on you.

at least, not when she was around.

“oh, okay,” you mumbled defeatedly, reaching down to grab your towel from the sand, quickly turning to face rafe who watched intently as you walked away.

“bye,” you mouthed with a small wave, before turning around to catch up with your feverish cousin.

rafe continued to feign interest in whatever the fuck topper was talking about, his eyes set on your body as you walked farther and father away from him. god, he loved the way your ass bounced with each step you took. in his fucked mind, he knew that kiara was right to keep you hidden, but now since you weren’t hidden, at least not from him, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before you were his, and his only.

of course, you being such a willing sweetheart made it all the more easier for him.

#anon #asks #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #sweetheart!reader

[wzrd-wheezes]

Not Half Bad - Marauders x Reader

AN - I'm a few minutes early but happy valentine's day, my loves. I wanted to post something that wasn't crazy romantic because I know today can be pretty lonely. So, enjoy some platonic marauders x reader fluff. This is my first time writing anything like this so please let me know what you think. 1.7k words.

Y/N startled awake, her head throbbing and her eyes swollen from tears. She groaned softly, feeling the weight of exhaustion as she rubbed her face, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Then, the unmistakable sound echoed through her apartment again.

Bang, bang, bang. 

With a resigned sigh, Y/N muttered curses under her breath before she shuffled towards the front door. The harsh hallway light made her squint as she opened the door, taking a moment to register the trio standing before her. 

“Come on, you. Out of the way, we’ve got some serious work to do!” James declared, gently nudging Y/N aside to enter her apartment, with Remus and Sirius following close behind. 

“What the hell are you doing? It’s practically the crack of dawn!” She exclaimed; her voice still thick with sleep. 

“Oh, yeah? And you’d know what time of day it was, would you?” Sirius teased, theatrically throwing open her curtains, allowing light to flood into the room for the first time in days. 

“We’re on damage control. Y’know, since we haven’t heard from you in almost a week.” Remus explained, heading straight into the kitchen and flicking the kettle on. 

Y/N sighed heavily, feeling a pang of guilt for having shut off herself off from her friends after her recent break up. The end of her relationship had hit her harder than she had ever anticipated, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable. She hadn’t felt up to facing her friends properly. She had shot them a quick message briefly explaining the situation before shutting off her phone and finding solace in her own company as she grappled with the emotional fallout.  

Remus busied himself in the kitchen while he waited for the kettle to boil. He had a tea towel swung over his shoulder as he started washing the dishes that had been piling up in the sink. James was getting the living room straight, opening windows, clearing up the endless piles of scrunched up tissues and fluffing up the sofa cushions.  

“You don’t have to do all this – I'm fine!” Y/N protested. 

“Stop fussing and just let us help you,” Sirius chimed in, poking his head around the doorway from where he was in the bathroom, “Now, get in here because I’ve just run you a bath.”  

Y/N’s protests died on her lips as she relented, allowing herself to be guided into the bathroom by Sirius’s firm but caring insistence. The soothing scent of lavender filled the air as she stepped into the room. Sirius shut the door behind her, allowing some privacy. He had set her some fresh towels and clean clothes on the side, even going as far as to light a few candles. Y/N let out a sigh as she sank into the tub, the warm water washing over her tired body. 

After a while, Y/N emerged from the bathroom feeling a bit lighter. She smiled at the three boys, appreciating their practical gestures of support. They had practically cleaned her whole apartment while she was in the bath. It had taken a bit of a hit in the week that she had been moping around. Remus had set her a steaming mug of tea on the coffee table, and she took it into her hands eagerly. 

“Feeling better?” he asked, patting the spot on the sofa next to him. 

“Much better. Thanks for the rescue” she smiled at each of them, “I owe you guys one.” 

“Nonsense.” James dismissed with a wave of his hand, “That’s what friends are for. Plus, I’ve been dying to bring out my superhero cape.” 

Remus snorted into his tea, “Superhero cape? More like a tea towel tied around your neck, mate.” 

“Hey, it’s all about the dramatic effect, Moony. You should try it some time.” James mock-glared at him. 

“I’d pay good money to see that.” Y/N laughed. 

“You nearly did!” Sirius remarked, “I literally had to pry it from around his neck before you got out of the bath.” 

Y/N burst into laughter at the mental image, shaking her head in amusement, “I can only imagine the heroic struggle.” She said, grinning at James, who rolled his eyes with a good natured sigh. 

“Yeah, well, it was a valiant effort on his part,” James admitted, earning a playful elbow jab from Sirius.  

It was the first time in a good week or so, that Y/N had laughed properly. She felt her spirits lift with each passing moment, the heaviness that had weighed in her heart for the last week beginning to fade. Their light-hearted banter and playful antics had a way of lifting her spirits, offering a welcomed distraction from her recent troubles. It was only when the boys stood up to leave that the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach started to return.  

Sirius noticed her face fall when they started getting ready to leave, each of them shrugging on their coats and slipping into their shoes.  

“Don’t worry, we’re coming back.” Sirius reassured her. 

“Yeah, you didn’t think that you could get rid of us that easily, did you?” Remus chuckled. 

“We’ve just got to nip out to get some stuff but then we’ll be back.” James promised. 

“What stuff?” she questioned.  

“Ask us no questions and we’ll tell you no lies.” James quipped, playfully tapping her on the nose before swiftly exiting.  

A bemused smile played on her lips as she watched her friends disappear. Although they had only been around at her flat for a few hours, it felt eerily empty now that they had gone. Collapsing onto the sofa, she reached for her phone, hesitating before finally switching it on after days of deliberate avoidance. There was the expected flurry of messages from her friends and family checking in on her and she made a mental note to reply to them later on. She quickly deleted a particularly nasty text from her ex before she gave herself chance to read it properly. As the screen blinked back up at her, the date glared back with unexpected significance.  

Valentine’s Day. 

The realisation hit her and stirred up memories and emotions that she had been trying to suppress. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of loneliness as she thought back to past Valentine’s Day spent with her now ex-partner. For a moment, she regretted even switching on her phone; ignorance might have been bliss on a day like today. Tears prickled in her eyes and she bit down on her lip in a futile attempt to hold back the flood of emotions.  

Just as she had been earlier that morning, she was brought back to reality by the door of her apartment swinging open and James, Remus and Sirius bustling back inside.  

“Told you we wouldn’t be long!” James said brightly, though the look soon dropped from his face the second his eyes fell on Y/N. 

“Oh, no! What’s happened? Everything okay?” Sirius rushed over and crouched in front of her, so his face was level to where she was slumped on the sofa. 

“It’s silly,” she sniffled, “I turned on my phone because obviously I’ve been avoiding it for ages and I saw the date. It’s just... overwhelming.” 

Remus moved to sit beside her, his presence a comforting anchor as he place a hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s not silly at all, Y/N. Valentine’s Day can be shit. Especially after everything you’ve been through.” he said softly, offering her a sympathetic smile. 

James signed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped closer, “We came over today because... well we didn’t want you to spend Valentine’s Day alone. We didn’t realise that you didn't even know what day it was. We’ve kind of fucked up really, haven’t we?”  

“Don’t be daft.” Y/N wiped the tears away with her sleeve, “You’ve already cheered me up so much just by being here.” 

“Let’s not stop now then, eh?” Sirius said, patting her affectionately on the head as he stood up, “We’ve got plenty more planned for this evening. Why don’t you go get yourself freshened up while we get set up in here?” 

Y/N smiled gratefully and obliged, making her way to the bathroom. She splashed her face with cool water, letting it wash away the remnants of tears that clung to her skin. As she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she forced a smile onto her face in an attempt to make herself feel better. She quickly ran her hands through her hair and smoothed out the wrinkles in her clothes. 

In the other room, the boys had sprung to action. James rummaged through the bags of shopping, his brows furrowed in concentration as he set about preparing dinner. Remus, ever the organiser, rearranged the furniture to create a cosier and more comfortable set up for them. Sirius, with his flair for the dramatic, set about lighting candles and pulled an assortment of decorations from his bag to add a festive touch to the occasion. 

As Y/N stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes widened in surprise at the transformation that had taken place in the living room. The warm glow of candlelight danced across the walls, casting soft shadows across the room. Tears of gratitude welled in her eyes and with a shaky breath she made her way to join them. 

“Speechless, huh?” Sirius joked gently, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. 

Y/N managed a watery smile, “I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Nothing needs to be said.” James stepped in from the kitchen, floral apron tied around his waist.  

“Just know that we’ve got your back always, yeah?” Remus chimed in.  

With a grateful nod, Y/N settled into her seat at the table, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.  

“Nice apron, James.” Y/N teased, unable to contain her laughter.  

“What can I say? Real men wear floral.” he quipped, setting down plates of food in front of each of them.  

“Ah! I almost forgot!” Sirius stood up quickly from the table and disappeared into the other room.  

He returned a few moments later, holding a bouquet of flowers. He presented them to her with a flourish. Y/N gasped in response. 

“You really didn’t have to!” she protested, her voice filled with gratitude, “You’ve already done so much for me today!” 

“We wanted to.” Remus smiled. 

“Besides, we’d be pretty crappy mates if we let you go a whole Valentine’s Day without flowers.” Sirius chuckled. 

“Yeah, it’s practically a cardinal sin to neglect such an important tradition.” Remus nodded in agreement.  

“See? We’re not completely useless, are we?” James nudged her, grinning. 

“Nah, you’re not half bad.” she beamed back at them, “I might even go as far as to say that you’re the best.” 

#marauders x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders fluff #poly!marauders #platonic marauders #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders

[lulureadsandwrites]

Hmmm.... How would Alastor realize he has begun to feel a sort of... affection for a reader? (Basically he's developing feelings and he realizes it).

hii this is my first work for alastor so forgive me if it's a little ooc and if you guys have any tips or requests, please let me know :))

Alastor Falling For the Reader

pairing; alastor x (gender not specified) reader warning; ooc alastor (probably), a little bit of angst if you squint, cannabalism (its alastor what do you expect), blood, no dialogue (is that a warning?) perspective; 2nd person, in the eyes of alastor though if that makes sense?

so you first joined the hotel because of charlie

you weren't a parent per se to charlie, but you stepped up after lilith left to god knows where

(literally, god knows.)

and when lucifer was quite neglectful

so after getting you settled into your own room charlie wanted to introduce you to everyone

she had called a meeting to everyone in the main parlour

the reason alastor was so interested at you at first wasn't your kindness, or charisma, or even your charming smile

as much as he thought it was nice

it was your colour pallet

yes, as weird as it was, you were the only one in the hotel with blues and purples in your hair, outfit and makeup.

since the vision spectrum of a deer was limited to cooler colours and hell was filled with reds, blacks, and pinks it was refreshing for him to see something other than black and white

after a deft introduction from himself and quite a sloppy one from the others should he add, you all were spread around the bar drinking your respected drinks

and after a solid and quite warm welcome, you headed to your room and off to bed

the reason you and alastor grew close was because of your shared love of jazz music

there was no one else in the hotel who enjoyed the genre so it made you a bit more tolerable to him

as the weeks turned into months, you had grown close with most of the original people in the hotel

though, you couldn't find yourself getting close with angel

nothing against him of course, it was just hard to find common interest with him

personally, i don't see alastor falling easily, so it would take a lot, and i mean A LOT so idk what you did but congratulations

as yours and alastors platonic relationship grew, so did the want to be even closer with you

he was very up in your personal space and you couldn't say that you didn't like it

when he realised he wanted a romantic relationship with you he short circuited

let me expand, you two were enjoying dinner in one of the dinning rooms that had come with building up the new hotel

alastor was enjoying his weekly venison heart and you were indulging in some red wine and VERY MUCH COOKED deer

you had told him something about texture issues but he wasn't really paying attention to the words that came out of your mouth

he was more so just watching the way you slightly smiled while talking to him

anyways, as you had finished your meals, you had realised alastor had some blood dribbling from his mouth

you had tried to get him to wipe it off but he couldn't quite get it

so you had walked up in front of him and wiped it off with your thumb

not just that you had licked your thumb clean

in a twisted way, that was just really attractive to him

as soon as he realised his attraction to you he had to quickly excuse himself

after these newfound emotions that he had registered as love he ignored you

yeah, probably not the best move on his end but to be fair, he had never fallen in love before so that was his immediate reaction

he saw his affection for you as a weakness

you tried to talk to him?

oh apologies he has that thing he has to do since he's an overlord

and it was frustrating you, a lot

after a full week of him ignoring you, he decided to get advice from the best person he knew

rosie

when rosie had told him off for ignoring you, he knew he fucked up

not sure why that's would it took

she had told him that love shouldn't be seen as a weakness but a tool that he could utilise to make himself stronger too

basically out for love but in rosie's style lol

so when he came back to the hotel, he went to your room and knocked on the door

you had reluctantly let him in to explain himself

and while he didn't outrightly admit his feelings for you, it was pretty obvious

after a kiss on your hand, and a very long spiel of how sorry he was, (bro is down BAD i swear) you had forgiven him

now the next hurdle was trying to bring himself to ask if he could court you.

AHH FIRST HAZBIN HOTEL POST!!! PLEASE LEAVE MORE REQUESTS I LOVE THEM <3333

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #charlie morningstar #hazbin alastor #fanfic #x reader #headcanons #hcs #ooc alastor #alastor hartfelt #the radio demon x reader

[shadowbriar]

Regulus Black - Asking for a Friend

Pairing : Regulus Black x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 4.4k Warning : I'm not sure if there's any, but let me know if I missed any. Synopsis : Regulus comes to the realisation that the admiration he holds of her was more than a platonic one and it just so happen that Valentine's day was just around the corner. Notes : Post no 2 for my 1 Year Anniversary Celebration. Don't forget to fill the form here if you'd like to be tagged for my future works. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ Regulus Black's Masterlist click here. Taglist : @jsjcue @coffeehurricanes @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kaz-mf-brekker @sofiacblair @when-you-cant-think-of-anything

“Have you ever had a friend that you're just so fond of and you wish that your partner would be just like them?”

Regulus’ question broke the stillness of the table, making his study mates to look up. Now Pandora, having been known to be the most studious of the group, has always hated it when someone causes any distraction in their study sessions yet for this one particular topic, she seems to be intrigued rather than looking bothered. It isn’t everyday your best friend of 5 years would talk about their romantic interest, after all.

“Elaborate.” Pandora says, her brows knitted together.

“I mean, you know.. You wish that your partner would be just like them.”

Evan squints his eyes, seemingly confused at his brief explanation, “I’m not sure I’m following you, mate. Doesn’t that just simply mean that you fancy them?”

The nonchalant expression on Regulus’ face turns blank in an instant. As if someone has just flicked the light bulb on top of his head, clearing the haze that has been fogging his mind. The sudden clarity has knocked him for six. Is that truly what it means? Days spent silently praising her beauty and nights wasted recalling their conversations were because he fancies her?

Over the years Regulus would find more of her personality to be his weakness, growing the softest spot in his heart specially reserved for her. He would always admire her witty comments, how she always conveyed her mind with the most articulate and intelligent words. Her friendly and warm nature is always something he adores and the way she would always listen to every worthless remark Regulus has with that magnetising smile and understanding eyes, it was impossible for Regulus to not wish his partner would be someone like her.

“So,” Barty asks, nudging on the raven haired boy with a teasing smile “Which friend do we fancy?”

Regulus’ cheeks turn rosy. All hell would break loose if Barty or Evan found out about it. Those boys are as good as a toothpick for a door bolt. The moment they knew about his growing affection for her, they would most immediately spill the beans and make things awkward between them.

And no, Regulus could certainly never have that.

“No one.” Regulus lies as he looks back down to his parchment paper “We fancy no one.”

“Oh come on now, Big Boy.” Barty whines “You’ve ripped off the bandage, might as well show us the scar.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, attempting to look as nonchalant as he could, “You’re fond of Evan’s presence, doesn’t mean you fancy him now, do you?”

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t say that’s impossible.” Barty jests as he begins to make fake kissing expressions to Evan.

“Oh, my Darling, Barty Bear.” Evan indulges in his best friend’s stunt, fake snogging Barty.

Regulus’ lips twitch into a smile, amused at the play-act his best friends are performing. He let out a relieved sigh, knowing that he’s just flee himself from being pestered by questions about his crush, but when he turned his gaze to the only girl at the table, Regulus knew that the little smirk plastered on Pandora’s face would be a form of nightmare he’ll be facing from that day onwards. He knows that she wouldn’t rest until he gives out a name and though she looks like she already knows who the lucky girl is, Regulus is certain that Pandora wouldn’t show him any mercy from the teasing and taunts.

—-

Dinner has been hard to swallow ever since the realisation of his budding infatuation for her. Regulus finds it impossible to not glance at her table, watching her from his peripheral vision as she chats and laughs with her group of friends. Whatever joke Barty throws or moans Evan has about his class have entered and left his ear like an insignificant noise, mind completely enamoured with her candid beauty.

His grip on the fork only tightens as he realises that she was walking to their table, a brilliant smile decorating her face as she takes a seat next to him, “Evening my favourite Serpents.”

“Fantastic, you’re here!” Evan exclaims gleefully, taking her hands to his that made Regulus’ stomach drop a little “Regulus here has been so out of it since this afternoon, we think he’s broken.”

Barty nods eagerly, “He didn’t even twitch a muscle at my joke and mind you it was bloody brilliant!”

She let out a chuckle, looking at Regulus lovingly (at least in his mind) before turning back to face Evan and Barty. Now the words exchanged between the five of them have gone from a trifling noise to a completely deafen sound. His eyes were glued on hers, taking mental notes of all the little gestures she made. How she would close her eyes shut whenever she laughs, how her brows crinkled more often than not, and how her cheekbones pop wherever she smiles, making her look a thousand times more hypnotising.

Now it was nothing out of the ordinary for Regulus to be the most quiet party of the table, but the little to no words uttered by him was making her suspicious. Sure it wouldn’t be the first time he would watch her intently and just agree with whatever is being discussed, but something’s different this time. The way his shoulder relaxes and how the small curl on his lip never waters was making her feel a little bit flustered to say the least.

“You’re awfully quiet,” She says as she turns to the lovestruck boy, resting her chin on her palm to stare back at him “Cat caught your tongue?”

Regulus blinks, gulping at the close proximity, “Just— Didn’t really have anything to say, is all.”

“Really?” She asks with a raised brow “That’s very unlike you.”

“How is it unlike me?”

“Well, you always have something to say. Whether or not you speak of it is an entirely different conversation to have, but you always have something to say, Regulus.”

Regulus bites his inner cheek. How is it that she could read him like an open book? Was he really that transparent or was he really that spellbound in her charms?

“Don’t bother him. Big boy here is trying to sort his feelings out.” Evan retorts.

“Really?” She replies, amused “What sort of feelings?”

“The loving, sappy kind of feelings.” Barty mocks “Regulus is in love.”

“Shut up, Barty!”

Regulus turns to her, uneasy over the fact that she might figure out his little secret but the look on her face was disheartening. As much as he wished he could have just half of her ability to read him, it was nearly impossible for Regulus to decipher her expression. She was staring back at him, her brows knitted as if she’s trying to read through him too but wasn’t sure on what to look at. It was a whole new expression he’s never seen before.

“Reggie wouldn’t give us the name,” Evan continues, completely oblivious of the awkward tension rising “Can we take a guess, Reg? Say yes if we guess correctly?”

“I bet it’s that girl Regulus always sits next to in Potion.” Barty mutters.

“Or that girl Regulus did his Herbology essay with. They spent weeks on that assignment, remember?” Evan counters “Or maybe that Gryffindor—,”

“It’s not any of those girls,” Pandora cuts.

“How would you know?” Evan asked.

“Oh, I just do,” Pandora says with a confident shrug, turning to Regulus “Don’t I, Reg?”

Regulus shakes his head, still trying to do the most possible damage control though he knew that such effort seems fruitless now. Cat’s out of the bag. It would only be a matter of time now until she realises that she’s the girl he’s been swooning over.

Ironic how long it took for him to realise that he fancies her yet it took no time for the secret to be spilled.

“Don’t push his buttons, guys,” She says with a warm laughter “If Regulus doesn’t want to drop names, then let him. It’s not our business now, is it?”

Now Regulus frowns a little. Her words sting a way he was never familiar with. What does she mean that it isn’t their business? Does she not care about who he’s crushing on?

“If you say so,” Pandora said to her, winking as if there was some secret message sent between the two.

Regulus studies her expression intently, trying to see if Pandora has cracked his secret and is now spilling it to her. Salazar, Regulus hopes that that wasn’t the case. He needs time to sort out his feelings, as Evan said, and if she found out about his budding infatuation before he could figure out a proper way to profess it— Well, Regulus hoped that it would never get to that point. Ever.

—-

If Regulus was ever asked, which of the following could ever compare to the beauty that is her: sun, moon, or star, Regulus would argue that she is the beautiful crescent moon with its bright yet soft light washing over his skin as he stares at her silently on his window pane. Regulus would argue, if he ever allows himself to be so bold, that she is his ideal. Her intelligence not to mention beauty would be the sweet honey to his tea, the butterfly to his garden of flowers.

But Regulus was never half as confident as she is. Never half as open and friendly to others. He was reserved, quiet, oftentimes perceived as cold and callous. But not to her. She could always see him through his distant exterior, involving him in every discussion they would have and perhaps that was the one thing that made him yield his heart to her.

Regulus never paid any mind to big dates and celebrations, but something about the upcoming Valentines date shakes his core. Perhaps it was the fact that it fell on the very day of their Hogsmeade trip this week, or the fact that all of his friends were buzzing about who they're going to ask to be their Valentines date, or maybe the fact that for once, Regulus might have a proper chance to ask her to be his date.

Chance. That word felt too optimistic for his presumptive mind. It was as if she ever looked at him that way.

“Regulus?” She called and squeezed his forearm lightly, making him burst his bubble of thought. He turns to her, cheeks slightly rosy from the shame of having ignored her. Just how pathetic he is to zoned out about her when she's sitting right beside him “Are you alright? You've been off of it all morning, I’ve noticed.”

He nods, flashing a shy smile, “All is well, no worries.”

She smiles, taking her hand off of him and continues her work.

Regulus turns his head, stopping at the sight of some Ravenclaw boy asking some Hufflepuff girl by the library entrance. The bashful gesture he’s showing and the giddy smile she shows makes it easy for him to tell the situation is happening at the spot. Another couple for the Valentine's Hogsmeade trip, he reckons.

A little twist in his stomach grows. With the many people asking each other out for the Hogsmeade trip, it would only be normal for him to ask her too, right? The timing was right, they could just go as friends in the worst case scenario. All he has to do is ask, but why are the words stuck at the tip of his tongue?

“Actually,” Regulus starts, secretly playing with the hem of his robe in nervousness “I have something to ask you.”

She looks up, meeting him with a warm smile, “Shoot.”

“I was wondering if you have a date for the Hogsmeade trip?”

“Oh,” She answers, utterly taken aback by his question. A hint of rosiness spread on her cheeks, something Regulus has to convince himself has nothing to do with his question. She always has that natural flush on her face, surely it must be nothing as pleasant as his stupid heart is hoping for “No, I don’t have a date at the moment. Why do you ask?”

“Just.. Asking for a friend.”

Regulus mentally slapped himself, having to be defeated by his anxiety once again that he has to come up with a lie. She stares at him with a confused look, the glimmer on her eyes dims down from the words he uttered. It was as if she was disappointed at his answer.

“I see,” She says with a nod “Do you plan to ask anyone?”

“Not sure,” He answers truthfully “Do you have anyone you hope would ask you?”

She plays with her quill, tapping it to the parchment paper as if she was piecing the right words to reply to him, “I suppose I do but I’m not counting on it.”

Regulus frowns, ignoring the slight crack of his heart, “Who?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

Regulus pursed his lips, acting to be in a deep thought, “No.”

She chuckles, turning back to her paperwork.

“But, if—” Regulus calls again, not wanting to end their conversation just yet “If my friend were to ask you, would you say yes?”

“Well it truly depends on which friend you’re talking about now, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but what is the possibility of you saying yes to my said friend? 50%? 60%? Or are you fully waiting for your prince charming to ask you?”

She stares at him with a smile, looking completely amused at the questions thrown at her. If she didn’t know better she would think that Regulus was asking for himself from all the persistent queries, but then of course, we all know how Regulus Black is. No girl in this castle is good enough for him and this rule applies to her too.

“Why don’t you just tell this friend to come to me himself, hm?” She answers, resting her chin on her palm and stares at him fondly “I truly can’t give you any answers unless you give me a name, Reg.”

“It’s Evan.” He blurts, cheeks feeling hot from her gaze.

“Rosier?” She asks with a raised eyebrow “I thought he’s going with Pandora? I was sure she told me he asked her last week.”

“Did I say Evan? I meant Barty.” Regulus fake coughed, clearing his throat “Barty wanted to ask you to be his date.”

The soft and gentle expression on her face turns into an appalled one, bewildered at the answer Regulus gives. His brain has haywired that he neglected the fact that Barty was her cousin, and though cousin romance is deemed acceptable in the wizarding world, Barty and her would never pursue each other romantically for one too many reasons. If Regulus could just tame his nervousness for just a degree, he would’ve realised how idiotic his answer was.

“Barty wants to be my date?” She asks, trying to confirm his answer that sounded like a death sentence for her.

Regulus nods, “He does.”

She narrows her eyes, trying to catch his lie but the stern and rigid expression on Regulus’ face makes her question her own mind. Regulus was never one to be deceitful yet the idea of Barty wanting to ask her to be his date is just as illogical. The only plausible reason behind such a stunt would be them trying to pull some prank on her, but even with that, Regulus was never one to ever indulge in the mischief her cousin and Rosier would always find themselves in.

“I— Well, I guess you should tell him to ask me himself?” She answers, questioning herself.

“I’ll do that,” Regulus nods firmly, trying to keep his act in place “I’ll tell him you said that.”

—-

A couple of days has passed ever since that incident of him blurting Barty’s name at the library. Regulus was still ever so stressed out to ask her himself that he still hasn’t realised the stupid mistake he’s done. Now with the Hogsmeade trip coming closer, Regulus really has no other time but now to ask her.

Yet before he could do so, the universe crushed his dream.

Barty entered the Slytherin Common Room with the brightest grin on his face, making Evan, Regulus, and Pandora look at each other from the strange sight. He jumps to the sofa, sighing with delight as he lay on it and rests his feet to the hand rest. Barty turns to see his friends who now still look at him with a baffled expression, enjoying the sight and looking forward to stomping on one of them in the next minute.

“Gentlemen,” Barty greets before turning to Pandora “My Lady.”

“What’s with you?” Evan asks, an amused smile plastered on his face “You look like you’ve just won a lottery.”

“Even better, I just got a date.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, “A date? Who?”

Barty coos, saying her name.

“Wait, isn’t she—”

“Brilliant, indeed.” Barty cuts, not letting Evan to correct the fact that they’re cousins. He shot him a look, one that conveys I’ll tell you later and Evan nods in understanding.

Colour drains from Regulus’ face. Just when he finally gathered enough courage to come forward, he just has to be beaten to the race. By Barty of all people. Supposed she came and asked Barty about their conversation that day and knowing Barty, he would never let such an opportunity slip. Who would ever not want to have her as their date after all?

“Who would’ve thought, right?” Barty fawns, pouring Regulus’ jealousy with petrol “Barty Crouch Jr having such a beautiful bird as his date for Valentine's.”

Evan was eyeing his friend with a sceptical look, clearly lost at the scheme Barty was pulling, “Barty, can I see that Transfiguration homework you promised me now? I have quite a lot to catch up on.”

“Sure,” Barty says, catching Evan’s bullshit right away as he stood from the sofa “It’s in my room.”

And so the two boys left, leaving Regulus who looks like he’s second away from vomiting all contents of his stomach and Pandora who’s casually flipping the pages of a magazine in her hand, an all knowing smirk present on her lips.

“Pandora,” Regulus calls, eyes still vacant “Do you have your wand with you?”

Pandora hums.

“Please hex me to death right now.”

The girl laughs at his request. Pandora put down the magazine and looked at Regulus with a teasing smile, “Why would you ask me that, Reggie?”

Regulus glares, “You know why. I saw your smile the other day when she came to our table. You know about it, don’t you?”

“About what?”

“That I was crushing on her.”

Pandora shrugs, “Maybe.”

“Ugh,” Regulus crowls “What am I to do now?”

Pandora chuckles, patting Regulus’ shoulder in an attempt to console him. Pandora felt cruel now to be the one to suggest the prank, to tell her and Barty to go on a fake date just to mess with Regulus. In her defence, out of the five of them, it seems like Regulus is the only one who doesn’t realise his growing affection for her. It was a public secret for the group now that he’s been sending her heart eyes. All he needed was a push and Pandora felt like it was her duty to help him.

Even when Regulus would surely throw a fit once he knew she was the mastermind behind his distraught now.

“Why don’t you just come to Hogsmeade, Reg?” Pandora suggests, playing the innocent supportive friend now “If their date doesn’t go well, you can go and rescue her.”

Regulus turns to see Pandora, his eyes hopeful at the advice, “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Pandora encourages “I mean, how many similarities does she have with Barty? Almost none. I’m pretty sure their date will turn downhill the moment they step into Madam Puddifoot’s shop.”

“How do you know they’ll go to Madam Puddifoot’s?”

Pandora shrugs, “Don’t all couples go there?”

Regulus bites his inner cheek as he gives it a thought. The idea of her going to such a sappy tea shop with Barty peels his skin. It should be him and her, not Barty and her. What was in her bloody mind to ever say yes to Barty’s invite in the first place?

“Fine,” Regulus says with an exasperated sigh “I’ll go to Hogsmeade.”

—-

Regulus’ tea has long gone cold, untouched as he impatiently waits for her and Barty to enter the tea shop. He figured, if they wanted to have their date here, where else would be the best place to spy on them than the very shop itself? So he got himself a table, ordered himself tea and biscuits that only served as props on his table, while his eyes were glued to the door. Every jingle of the bell felt like an invisible blade thrown to pierce his heart.

He looks down to his watch. It’s been more than an hour now. When would they come? How long should he wait? Will they even come to this tea shop like Pandora said?

Before his head could explode with more questions, Regulus’ breath was held on his chest as she finally entered the establishment. Her cheeks were rosy, probably from the cold wind outside. Regulus wished he could take a picture of her now because Merlin, just how hypnotising could she be?

To think that she dressed up for a date with Barty crushes him, but where even is Barty?

Regulus’ brows were raised now. Did Barty stood her up? Is that why she’s alone now? But she doesn’t look the slightest bit annoyed or sad if such a scenario did occur. She has her eyes scanning the tables now, looking for something, someone, and when their eyes meet, her smile blooms and walks closer to him.

“Hello, there,” She greets, pointing at the empty seat in front of him “Is this seat taken?”

Regulus shakes his head, in loss of words as he tries to assess the situation happening.

She happily took her seat, ordering herself something to drink before turning back to Regulus. Her gaze met his, hands clasped on the table. Her brilliant smile was still evident and it’s making Regulus feel like he could melt and die right on that instant.

“So,” She started, her tone cheerful “What are you doing here, Regulus?”

“I— Uh—” Regulus stutters “I— I was supposed to meet someone.”

“Really?” She asks, intrigued “Who?”

“Just— No one important.” He answers, running his palms to his trousers in nervousness “What are you doing here? I heard you have a date with Barty today. Where is he?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Did he stood you up?” Regulus asked, his anger starting to rise. How dare he stood her up?

“Oh, no, he didn’t. I just cancelled our date.” She says nonchalantly “I find it too cruel to proceed so I bailed on them.”

“Cruel? Them?” Regulus asked, confused “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you sweet soul,” She says with a gentle chuckle, taking one of his hands softly and caressing the back of it with her thumb “Who is it again that you said was asking me for a date?

“Barty.” Regulus says with a nervous gulp.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t truly him now, was it?” She asks “Cause I’m pretty sure Barty would never be interested in me in that way, seeing that we’re cousins.”

Regulus closes his eyes, letting out an embarrassed sigh. That day in the Common Room must have been some sick joke the other’s were pulling at him. How Barty entered with such a huge grin and Pandora’s pitiful yet teasing look at him. They both must have been the miscreants behind this humiliating act.

“I’m going to kill them,” Regulus mutters, not meeting her eyes.

“Please, don’t,” She answers with a laugh “They mean well, I promise you.”

“They’re making me look pathetic in front of you.”

“That’s debatable,” She remarks “I find it cute and adorable, to be honest. And to be fair, it was you who lied to me first. They’re just following your ruse.”

“I’m sorry,” Regulus says “Are you angry at me?”

“No,” She says, shaking her head “I was appalled at first, but then I realised that you might just be shy about it so I just brushed it off.”

Regulus nods, smiling at her weakly from her understanding.

Now what? He thought. Cats out of the bag, for good this time. What should he say now? What should he do? Would she like him to say anything about it? Do anything about it? What if she’s just here out of a friendly gesture? That she doesn’t want to embarrass himself further in front of the others?

But the tender gaze she gives to him now, the understanding smile and the gentle touch she’s giving him, it all feels like a supportive push for him to go forward. To finally embrace his realisation of affection and hand his heart to her now.

“So I guess you know already..” He begins “About my feelings.”

“I have a rough idea of it.” She teases.

“What do you think about it?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, do you think it was okay? For me to fancy you?” Regulus asks, uncertainty bleeding out of his voice “Would it be okay if I like you?”

“If it wasn’t okay with me I wouldn’t be here with you, would I?” She argues, her kind smile still tugging on her lips “I do have to confess that I expected more than just ‘fancy’ or ‘like’. I thought we’ve gone past that phase already.”

“We?”

She raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t really think that this flows one way, did you?”

“I— I don’t know.”

“Oh, you blind child,” She chuckles “I fancy you too, Regulus. Perhaps even more than that.”

“I— Really?” Regulus asks, blushing yet still trying to understand her words as if she’s been speaking in a different language “This better not be another prank you and Pandora or Barty or Evan is pulling on me.”

She chuckles, “It’s not, I can assure you.”

“Prove it.”

She squints her eyes, giving his challenge a thought before standing a little from her seat. She begins to lean in, inching closer to his face and closing her eyes when their hot breaths begin to meet each other’s skin. She gives the lightest brush to his lips, so soft that it felt feather-like but still sent jolts of electricity down his spine. 

She pulls away a little, still so close to him that their noses brush with each other. She gazes into his eyes, lovestruck and content, “Was that enough of a proof?”

“No,” Regulus breathes, whispering “Do it again.”

#regulus black #regulus black imagine #regulus black imagines #regulus black scenario #regulus black scenarios #regulus black fanfic #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black fluff #regulus black oneshot #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x oc

[niki-phoria]

Can we get some headcanons or short little blurbs on how enha would comfort m!reader when he can't sleep? Could be established relationships or not! Romantic or platonic, it's up to you!

ALL THE WAYS I GOT TO KNOW YOUR PRETTY FACE AND ELECTRIC SOUL

enha comforting their insomniac boyfriend !!

male reader (he/him pronouns used)

HEESEUNG

“why are you still up?” heeseung’s voice cracks slightly; each word drips with the remnants of sleep. stray strands of his disheveled hair stick up at odd angles, making you chuckle beneath your breath. 

“i can’t sleep,” you reply, turning to lay on your side. heeseung sighs, reaching over to pull you into his hold as if it’s second nature. he allows his eyes to flutter closed as you lean your head against his shoulder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 

heeseung’s arms wrap comfortably around your waist, tugging your body even closer until there’s no space left between you. your legs tangle together beneath your blankets; your arms find a home resting lazily across heeseung’s chest. 

a comfortable silence falls over your bedroom once again, only interrupted by the occasional whirr of the dorm’s heater turning on and blasting hot air throughout the vents. your eyes wander around heeseung’s room, taking in the details despite the darkness obscuring your view: the notebooks filled with half-finished songs laid across his desk. the deer plush you had won for him from an arcade claw machine. your jacket lying carefully laid across the back of his chair as if to preserve the fabric as opposed to the variety of heeseung’s own clothing haphazardly thrown across the room without care.

heeseung hasn’t moved since he first pulled you to lay on his chest, but you can tell he’s still awake. his breathing isn’t as deep as it should be and he snores - no matter how much he refuses to admit it. 

“you should get some rest,” you murmur, finally breaking the prolonged silence once again. 

“so should you,” he replies. your protests die on your tongue when heeseung shifts to look down at you. he softly smiles as he trails his fingertips along the curve of your jaw. “just close your eyes. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

JAY

jay lets out a disgruntled groan when he’s shaken awake, squinting at you through tired eyes. he blinks a few times at you in the darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust. “what is it?” he mumbles. 

“i can’t sleep.” 

a beat of silence passes. you study jay’s expression, waiting for any sort of reaction from the other man. the numerous apologies lingering on the tip of your tongue are stolen away when jay leans in, pressing a feather-light kiss to your lips. his touch is gone just as soon as it’s there. you find yourself resisting the urge to follow his lips when he pulls away. 

“come here,” he finally mumbles, opening his arms as an invitation. you accept it immediately, shuffling across the bed until your body is pressed against jay’s. leaning your head against his chest, jay tucks his chin against the top of your head. “close your eyes.” 

you obey, letting your eyes flutter closed and nuzzling yourself even closer to him. “i found a new recipe today,” jay murmurs. his hands slip underneath the hem of your t-shirt, rubbing miscellaneous shapes into your bare skin. “i think you would like it. jungwon offered to help me go shopping and prepare some of the ingredients.”

jay pauses when a deeper, longer breath escapes you. he smiles when he feels your body relax against his chest; the stress and worry of the day leaves you in waves until only the boy he fell in love with so long ago remains. 

leaning down, jay presses a chaste kiss against your temple. “sweet dreams, love,” he murmurs into the dark before he closes his own eyes, letting sleep overtake him once more.

JAKE

jake is annoyed. it’s painfully obvious, from the way his eyebrows furrow in confusion to his small frown as if he’s still in disbelief about being woken up so suddenly. he squints at you in the darkness; his face shines silver from the moonlight seeping in through your still-open blinds. the light is just barely enough to illuminate your features. 

his face relaxes almost as soon as his tired eyes meet your wide-awake ones. his voice is deep and raspier than usual - the last remaining remnants of sleep still dripping like honey from each word. “what’s wrong?”

“i can’t sleep,” you murmur in return. jake hums, shifting slightly so his body just barely brushes against your own. he smiles softly when you slide across the covers, wrapping your arms around him. 

you rest your head against his chest, just above his sternum; he can feel you angle yourself so you can hear his steady heartbeat beneath your ears. jake rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as if the perfect remedy will somehow engrave itself into the drywall above. 

thankfully, you already seem to have one. “sing for me?”

he bites back a soft chuckle in favour of looking downwards. jake’s gaze studies your face; his eyes trail down the slope of your nose and linger on your plump lips just a little longer than necessary. “do you have any requests?” he finally asks.

“no,” you hum, nuzzling yourself even closer to him. even with the fabric of his shirt separating your skin, jake can feel the heat radiating off of your body. it makes his heart race and cheeks flush no matter what he does his best to disguise the feeling. jake nods into the darkness. a beat of silence passes before he begins, voice quietly filling the space of your otherwise silent bedroom. “it’s like a polaroid love. love, that old-fashioned feeling but my heart is racing. why am i like this?”

SUNGHOON

“are you okay?” you nearly jump at the quiet whisper from the man beside you, forcibly ripping you away from your swirling thoughts and bringing you back into reality. 

“i’m fine,” you finally sigh, rolling over to face him. “just can’t sleep.” 

sunghoon hums, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair away from your face. your heart rate picks up when his hand falls to your shoulder, gently trailing his fingertips against the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

the quiet breath of relief that escapes you in response is embarrassing - mortifying, even. you freeze almost immediately, suddenly overly thankful for the darkness concealing both your embarrassment and sunghoon’s reaction.

he doesn’t immediately pull away like you’re expecting. instead, he breaks the silence with yet another whisper. “you’re tense.” another beat of silence passes before his hands are on your chest, pushing you onto your back. “roll over.”

your questions die on the tip of your tongue as you silently obey. sunghoon’s hands just barely brush against your skin as he gently presses his palm against the center of your back. he waits for a second before he presses the pads of his fingertips into the tense muscles in your shoulders. 

you softly sigh in response, letting him continue his ministrations. with no complaints leaving your lips and the stress all but dripping off of you, sunghoon continues. he shifts, pushing himself up to get a better angle. his touch becomes more confident; his hands apply more pressure, slowly relieving the stiffness from your body. 

sunghoon’s movements pause when he notices your breathing has slowed. your soft snores occasionally break the silence. smiling to himself, sunghoon leans in to press a chaste kiss against the back of your shoulder blade. “goodnight, y/n.”

SUNOO

“can’t sleep?” sunoo asks, quietly slipping into the kitchen. you acknowledge his presence with a glance over your shoulder and a soft sigh leaving your lips. 

sunoo leans against the counter beside you, studying your features. the dim kitchen light paints the entire room in a golden glow - one that he’s only used to seeing during quiet mornings when he studies your relaxed features for just a little too long. 

this time, the light only seems to illuminate the exhaustion present on your features. your shoulders are stiff, even as you lean against the counter for support. sunoo can clearly read just how desperate you are to rest, and just how difficult your mind is making it to actually get some.

“i’m sorry,” he finally murmurs. the quietness of his voice is almost overpowered by the whistle of the kettle beside you.

you offer a soft, sad smile in response. your shoulders sag as you sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut for a second. “it feels like i’ve tried everything.”

“i know.” sunoo’s mind races, searching for any sort of reassurance that will make you feel better. unfortunately, he still hasn’t found any by the time you’ve poured two cups of tea, sliding one across the counter to him. 

sunoo accepts it with a grateful smile, resting his cold hands against the warm ceramic. “can i do anything to help?”

there’s a beat of silence just long enough to make sunoo reconsider his words before you speak once again. “i don’t want to be alone right now.”

sunoo reaches up, resting his hand against your cheek. your eyes flutter closed at the contact; your body instinctively relaxes against his hand. sunoo’s thumb brushes against the dark circles staining the skin beneath your eyes before finally settling against your cheek. “then i’ll stay with you.”

you smile softly, reaching up to take his hand into your own. sunoo’s cheeks burn brightly when you press a gentle kiss against his wrist. “thank you.”

JUNGWON

“what do you usually do when you can’t sleep?” 

you let a quiet sigh escape your lips, shaking your head in defeat. turning onto your side to face him, you catch one of jungwon’s hands into your own. “i just wait until it passes.” 

he frowns softly. he remains quiet for a moment as you begin to play with his hands, trailing your fingers along the ebbs and flows of his knuckles. his hands feel soft against your own, even when you reach the calluses on his palms.

you nearly startle when he softly gasps, eagerly pulling his hand away from your own. you watch in confusion as he quickly stumbles over to his desk, grabbing his computer before sliding into bed beside you. 

“what are you doing?” 

jungwon’s smile grows as he sets his now-open computer down in the space between you. his fingers fly across the keys as he logs in before opening netflix, clicking through a variety of tv shows and movies until he finds what he was looking for. 

wrapping his arms around your waist, jungwon tugs you to lay back down before he makes himself comfortable against your chest. you can all but feel the excitement radiating off of him as he curls up beside you. “just watch,” he says, gesturing towards the opening credits. 

you only listen to him for a second, watching as the opening credits fade to black before the screen lights up once again, illuminating the dark room in a glow of colour. “we’re watching a movie?”

“it’s your favourite,” jungwon hums. 

you can feel your face flush despite your best efforts. jungwon has always known exactly how to fluster you, you suppose. “thank you,” you whisper. reaching over, you push a stray strand of hair back into place.

jungwon’s only response comes in the form of a soft smile and a chaste kiss pressed against your jaw before he lays back down in his rightful place - lying comfortably on your chest.

NIKI

niki startles awake with a sigh, glancing over at you with an accusatory glare. “stop stealing the blankets,” he sleepily mumbles, tugging the fabric covering both of your bodies until you’re both covered once again.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, pushing even more of the duvet to his side. “i didn’t mean to wake you.”

niki props himself up on his arm, twisting around until he’s fully facing you. through the darkness, niki can just barely make out your tired features. “what’s wrong?” he asks, all venom slipping away almost as quickly as it was there. 

“i can’t sleep.” a defeated sigh escapes you as you roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. niki frowns as he shuffles a little closer to you. he moves without thinking, wrapping his arms around you and moving to rest his head against your chest. his heart beats rapidly in his chest at the minimal space between your bodies. sharing a bed had never been an uncommon experience, but neither of you had ever pushed the boundaries this much before.

niki catches his bottom lip between his teeth, anxiously awaiting your reaction. instead of pushing him off like he expected, you smile. his face flushes when you reach up, gently carding your hands through his hair. niki remains silent, simply watching as you twist his bangs between your fingers. a content sigh escapes him, making you smile in response.

“why do you like playing with my hair so much?” he finally whispers, breaking the comfortable silence. your movements pause for a second before you continue, carefully untangling his disheveled bed hair as best as you can with one hand.

“i don’t know,” you hum, gently scraping your nails against his scalp. “it’s just… relaxing, i guess. do you want me to stop?” 

“not if it helps you fall asleep,” niki replies, only half-joking as he twists to glance up at you. 

you smile in response, leaning down to press a kiss against his forehead. “sweet dreams, ki.”

notes: i'm sorry for the lack of fics lately, i've been busy with school and i've been absolutely captivated by a fanfic i found so i haven't been writing much sknds gonna be totally honest i started running out of ideas really quickly but i loved this idea !! thank you for requesting and i hope you like it <33

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my enha imagines or more enha reactions <3

#enha fluff #enha soft hours #enha soft thoughts #enha x reader #enha x male reader #enha reactions #enha reaction #enha drabble #enha scenario #heeseung fluff #heeseung x reader #heeseung x male reader #jay x reader #jay x male reader #jay fluff #jake x reader #jake x male reader #jake fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x male reader #sunoo x reader #sunoo x male reader #sunoo fluff #jungwon x reader #jungwon x male reader #jungwon fluff #niki fluff #niki x reader #niki x male reader

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞 voicemails with han on your wedding day

✰ pairings: bsf!han x fem!reader

✰ genre: angst, fluff if you squint and romance

✰ word count: 1.3k+ words

HAN | chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | felix | seungmin | jeongin

one 𖨂

first off, i’m sorry i made you cry like that. i’m sorry that i intentionally hurt you even though i didn’t mean to. i guess it’s time to spill the beans, huh? it’s been what– like 6 years now? 6 years of constantly pining over you. 6 years of falling in love with every bit of you. and 6 years of watching you fall for several people and get your heart broken. i’ve seen it all. lived it all as well, right by your side just like always. it wasn’t easy of course, watching the love of your life kiss someone else, hug someone else or cry over stupid exes who didn’t deserve you. but i did my best to hold it in. but now . . . i don’t think i can. i love you so much, more than you’ve ever now and more than you ever will. your fiancé is lucky. he truly is. for being able to marry a girl like you in less than a few hours. and you must be wondering why i’m sending you these voicemails 3 hours before your wedding. well it’s because you don’t have your phone with you right now as you’re very much busy, which is a golden opportunity for me.

two 𖨂

i hate you. so so much. i hate you so much for making me feel this way. i hate you so much for running through my mind the entire day. i hate you so much for making me feel all excited and giddy whenever you smile at me, but your eyes. . . they have love. not the romantic one, the platonic one. and that’s what hurts me the most. i even thought of telling this to you earlier but i couldn’t. not when our friendship of 8 years was at stake. never. nothing is more precious than that. but sometimes i do wonder whether your heart used to beat fast when i stood close to you. or whether your cheeks used to feel warm when i touched you. did it ever happen to you? i guess not. how could you love a guy like me? you, who are literally the perfectionist and me who learnt from you. doesn’t match right? i wished it did. i truly wished it did.

three 𖨂

i never lost hope, you know? instead i clung onto it until the very end, which is today. i hoped for you to fall in love with me little by little. and even though you couldn’t reciprocate my love for you, i wish we tried. but i fall in love with you a little bit more day by day. and now my heart is swelling with immense sadness that it even hurts to laugh without letting out tears of pain. it hurts to see you smile knowing i’m not the main reason anymore. i’ve become a side one. and it hurts to see you so excited for your wedding. and i hate myself for that. i hate that i can’t even pretend to be happy for my best friend who finally found true love. best friend. that’s all i mean to you right? nothing more, nothing less. but i don’t blame you. i could never. so i hope he doesn’t hurt you ever. because i might not be sufficient for you whether it be now or 10 years later. just know that.

four 𖨂

as i stand wearing my tuxedo, i wonder how it would look to have your arm linked with mine. to have your eyes shining with joy, for me. but that can never happen, can it? i see the way you look at him. the way you talk about him. and when you’re angry at him, it hurts me even then. oh, how i wish i could be him. standing by your weeping side and wiping your tears. or perhaps, holding you in my arms under the moonlight. it sounds heavenly doesn’t it? at least it does for me. which is the exact reason why it isn’t real. and i can’t imagine what would happen after you hear these. just don’t hate me please? i beg you. it took me a lot of courage to say this. and i would die if i ever knew that you hate me. your man, he’s perfect in every way. i tried to find any flaw but there isn’t one. he’s madly in love with you too but not longer than me, try to beat that. he gifts you all his love and never his anger. he treats you like a delicate vase, if handled improperly, you might break. he engulfs you in his love and you can practically drown in his eyes with the amount of admiration it contains for you. all for you, my angel.

five 𖨂

i’m back, hiding in the bathroom as i speak. your wedding just ended– and i don’t think i could see you two kissing. i’m so sorry angel. so so sorry. i didn’t want to be that bad friend who falls in love and starts acting as a homewrecker. never. i’m so sorry for falling in love with you. if only i didn’t look at you while you were doing my makeup, this wouldn’t have happened. i danced with you although, and when you asked why i was getting emotional i could only smile with tears. this was the last time i held you like i loved you. the last time i twirled you, and the last time i caught you. because now, i’m throwing away that hope from my life. and i’m letting you go now, my love. i promise. i won’t ever try to love you again the way i did and i’ll punish myself if i ever do that once more.

six 𖨂

at times i even thought i don't want to love you anymore. you tore my heart out in the summer and tossed it aside with a carefree laugh and that crooked smile, before sauntering off to meet your new partner before classes began in the autumn. i don't want to flinch every time i hear your name escape someone’s mouth. i don't want to keep getting hurt every time a memory flashes in my mind like a blaring siren, a loop of playful moments and the moments where i fell deeper. i want to not care about you anymore. i want to be perfect strangers, but i couldn’t just not care when you knocked on my door at 4 am, drunk and a sobbing mess, i just took you in my arms. i held you for hours till the moon disappeared, replacing itself with brightness. not for me. not when you couldn’t even remember how i cared for you or how we went back to being best friends. maybe it was selfish of me to for the night knowing you saw my worth only in your drunk state. but it was enough for me. you were enough for me. and my heart shattered every time knowing i wasn’t.

seven 𖨂

i’m finally letting you free, from the love i had buried deep in my heart. i wish you a happy married life, my angel. and i’m sorry but i will be leaving tonight. i’m going away for a while. for good. and even though i have many excuses i won’t tell them to you. i need time. away from you. away from those feelings that keep bubbling out just by hearing your laughter. i know i’m late. very late in fact. but could you try and not hate me for this? please? it’ll be my last wish before i go. and now, suddenly, everything seems like a goodbye. the last dance, the last hug, the last smile, the last kiss on my cheek and the last moment where i add a full stop to this unrequited love of mine. congratulations angel. though i wished i could call you mine.

#ॱଳ͘ #k labels #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #han x reader #han jisung #jisung x reader #skz fanfic #han angst #skz han #skz jisung #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines

[theanonymousninja247]

Random Turtle HC: Raph & Anxiety

*clears throat and approaches microphone before hitting whiteboard with a ruler* A-HEM! Behold my theories peasants!

As we see expresses in the VERY 1st episode of ROTTMNT, the turtles can recognize each others signature scents and can smell fear.

Raph especially is shown briefly through the brothers dialogue to be the most aware and self conscious about said scent to the point of becoming defensive about it.

This leads me to believe that due to both natural biological olfactory senses and increased abilities due to mutation, the turtle brothers (with an advanced ability tipping to Raph due to his size and sensitivity) can actually smell the hormone cortisol.

WebMD defines cortisol as, “Your body’s main stress hormone. It works with certain parts of your brain to control your mood, motivation, and fear.”

Simply put, the turtle boys can literally smell fear.

Now I know you’re asking yourself, “Okaaaaaay cool fun fact I guess, what does that have to do anything with me?”

*takes a step back and adjust glasses with a smirk*

My dear dear fellow tumblr, allow me to share the wonders of mixing fact, madness and media all in one! *sounds of maniacal cackling can be heard*

(I wrote this with the intent to be platonic but it could be romantic if you squint long enough)

•So we've established Raph can smell fear right?

•As a protective big brother who is quite literally in fact “BIG” he knows a thing or two about getting scared

• Especially when it comes to looking out for people he cares about

•Hes been fighting baddies for his family since he was a tot! From keeping away scary dreams at night, from crushed ancient metal zombies to terrifying alien virus monsters, there ain't much he hasn't seen

•So when you join the ranks of the Mad Dogz, you immediately also get a built in prtoector

•Raphs been looking out for the little guys his whole life, what's one more?

•Not to mention you're kinda cute, so he doesn't mind sticking around a little bit closer

•But you're different than most folks, Raph notices. I mean besides the fact that you WILLING want to be friends with 4 mutant turtles of all things.

•No besides your abnormal incredible bravery in looking beyond the status quo to reach out the hand of friendship to these reckless reptiles, Raph noticed that you just kind of…smelled

•Not in a bad way or anything just…you always seemed to have a lingering scent of fear on you

•And Raph would know. Hed recognize that scent anywhere. It's a scent that ghosts every hour of every day for him. Nighttime and being alone especially.

•Raph hates being scared. He's the biggest and the oldest. He's supposed to look after his peeps! And he can't do that if he's frozen with fear all the time!

•So what does he do? Raph faces the problem head on like he always do.

•You get scared a lot. That's understandable, but Raph decides to make it his business that you don't need to be scared when he's around.

•Raph’ll protect ya

•Be prepared to have this turtle subtly (orrer not to much so because although he's a ninja he ain't exactly tactful or subtle) watching you every time you and the gang get all together

•Its not hard. You've always caught his attention for some reason or another. So looking at you is something he does without even realizing it.

•He’s looking for triggers, anything that gets that heart rate of yours spiking and that scent start to waft.

•Fidgeting hands, bouncing knees, shutting down and slinking into your hoodie, nervous chewing, pulling or playing with your hair and pacing, he's got eyes on it all.

•Once a trigger has been spotted, Raph immediately tries to locate the source

•Too many people? Suddenly you find a 6ft something giant turtle behind you, letting you know with his massive presence alone that he got your back. Literally.

•He kinda likes this position because he can see everyone that comes close enough to interact with you and everybody can see him.

•All he's got to do is narrow his eyes a little a give em a flash of that all too familiar snaggle tooth of his if he thinks someone's being mean and he gets his unspoken threat across just fine

•Not to mention you're also close enough to grab if someone he doesn't deem fit for your attention gets a little too close for his liking. But he doesn't say that part out loud.

•Scared of talking? You suddenly feel the cool tip of his massive scaely alligator tail (anatomically correct alligator tail be darned, I'm going with the fandoms HCs for this one) gently wrapping around your ankle as a physical reminder that he's right there here to support you

•Overwhelmed and the world feels like it's closing in on you? Raphs massive size is a natural battering ram that allows him to pass through thick crowds with easy. He's not afraid to help heard you into a quiet little corner away from it all

•Years of practice with Donnie allows him the experience to ask you if you're good with touch.

•If yes, you know you're going to be instantly wrapped into his arms, pulled flushed up against the worn keratin of his plastron. Raph’s always been more of “hands-on experience” kinda of guy anyway.

•Raph gives good hugs. They're firm and tight, padded with the security of arms who have been holding the weight of the world for years.

•He will rest his chin on top of your head, gently guiding your head with the motion ever so slightly so you're somehow perfectly nestled right against his heart.

•It's a loud heart, especially when you're up so close. It's actually his strongest muscle and one he's most proud of. He cares about you, so he reckons he’ll allow you the privilege of getting close to it. In more ways than one.

•Raph doesn't talk much during these special security hugs. He's never really been much good with words anyways. Raph knows sometimes the noise can be too much, but he also knows that the silence can be defeaning. So being a turtle comes with some built in perks that make up a happy medium.

•Hes got a special churr saved for special situations just like this one. It's one of the lowest and deepest ones he's capable of making. More akin to a muted growl more than anything the way it vibrates his chest as you're pressed up against it. You can feel it more than hear it and it just takes a handful of minutes listening to this bad boy before Raph can sense your fear stink slowly dissipating and your natural sweet scent can return.

•Raph can smell fear, and there's something incredibly humbling for this Atlas of a turtle to have the sweet experience of watching that scent drift away whenever he gets the privilege of being close to you like this.

•”You don't need to be scared no more, Sweet Pea. Raph’s got ya. I'm gonna be right here until you're ready to face the world again. Until then, let me just hold ya.”

Dedicated to the one and only @anobodyinabog. Sorry this took so long,but I hope your day gets better Shortcake. Please know you're always looked out for and loved ok? 🧡❤️

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #unpause rise of the tmnt #save rise of tmnt #unpause rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the turtles #rottmnt season 3 #serendipitouslyjayus #tmnt #tmnt headcanons #rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt raphael #rottmnt raph #original thoughts #original post #anxitey #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x you #rottmnt x y/n #long reads #long post #long story short #tmnt x reader #tmnt x you #tmnt x y/n #Soft Raph #healing hugs #protector

[kazumist]

THEM LOVING YOU AS YOUR BEST FRIEND .ᐟ

✩ — includes: albedo, xiao, thoma, kazuha, scaramouche x gn!reader. fluff, angst if u squint ?? no cws. wc: 988. please reblog !! it helps me tons <3 this is the bsf to lovers draft that no one in particular asked for,,

albedo — !

albedo is usually smart, but once he starts to notice some changes in how he feels about you, he doesn’t have an answer. you know that albedo has the tendency to be touch deprived—so touch deprived that people would’ve thought you were a couple already before you could even explain that you’re just best friends. but why do his grips seem tighter lately whenever he holds your hand? as if he doesn’t plan or want to let go? it’s possible that you’re overthinking, but you know albedo. he wasn’t like this before.

him realizing that he fell in love with you was a huge revelation. it just came crashing down to him, and he didn’t even think of it thoroughly. with the wind blowing onto your hair on a late afternoon in the streets, albedo finally realized that he liked you. he realized a lot of things during that moment—he realized how he sometimes loses his rationality around you, how he’s becoming less than he usually is, and how you’re the person who can only make him unfold in such ways. albedo shook his head at you and smiled, and you looked at him in confusion.

“albedo? what are you smiling so stupidly at?” you asked. “nothing. i’ll walk you home now; it’s getting quite late,” he replied.

xiao — !

xiao is the reserved one, always wanting to keep your business to yourself. it’s respectable, really. although you two still bond in public, it may just look like you’re just acquaintances and not “best friends." however, behind closed doors, xiao gets a bit of an attitude. he acts more childish alone with you—something that’s very unexpected from the usually composed xiao people would see. but you find it cute how his eyes sparkle at his favorite food if you get it for him.

if albedo was confused about his feelings, xiao is even worse. he’d go through multiple stages on how to realize if he’s in love with you. it’ll be a slow burn too, since he has no idea if his feelings are romantic towards you or if they're just platonic. he’s very conflicted. but isn’t the way xiao looks at you already enough? how about him wanting to spend more time with you? or about those times where he’d want to hold your hand longer?

xiao needs to clarify his emotions soon, but deep inside he knows that it’s romantic; he just refuses to admit it.

thoma — !

sometimes you don’t even know if he’s your mother or your best friend. if you don’t take care of yourself, then he will. god, you can’t forget how antsy he gets every time you’re sick. be it a small fever or just a cold, he’ll be taking care of you. he knows that you know how much he cares about you, but sometimes he wonders if your relationship is really just platonic.

but how? how can it possibly be platonic when your lips almost meet when you look at each other, squishing at the large crowd? how can it even be platonic when he’d take you out on little dates (and yes, a date even though you’re “best friends”) during the weekend? is it even platonic when thoma holds himself back from kissing you even though he gets so many chances to do so?

it’s frustrating. it was frustrating that thoma doesn’t even know who the two of you are at this point. he knows he loves you; he just doesn’t want to ruin what you have now, and he doesn’t know how to tell you about these big feelings he’s been holding onto. so he bottles it up for now—one day he will confess. once he’s ready.

kazuha — !

you two would do a lot of things. messing around in the library and watching movies together, it may seem that kazuha doesn’t hold romantic feelings for you as your best friend, but he does. it’s visible in how he looks at you. everyone can see it — everyone but you. he knows that you can get rather oblivious in some instances, but this time it’s really obvious. he doesn’t get why you haven’t noticed it yet. were you in denial? do you not want to be faced with these hints he leaves every now and then? kazuha can usually read you (he’s your best friend after all), but on this issue, he gets so conflicted.

with a flick to your forehead, you yell at the short period of pain that rushed at you because of kazuha. he sighs at you again before correcting you for what seems like the nth time today, all because of your homework. he too is having other thoughts as he teaches you—why haven’t you noticed it yet? when will you ever take notice of his feelings? but he gave up on thinking about the matter.

kazuha is, after all, willing to wait patiently for you anyway.

scaramouche — !

being stuck with scaramouche for this long is surprising for you. it’s not like he’s bad; there are just times when he has this attitude (which is honestly every time if you think about it). but you were one of the few people that scaramouche trusts. he tells you a lot of things, how he regrets ordering this one meal at a place he ate at, how he’s frustrated with all of the deadlines he has; scaramouche tells you about anything.

but the one thing he can’t seem to tell you is that he holds these feelings for you. he doesn’t know how to describe it. it’s overwhelming for him. scaramouche had always kept his heart safe and was always cautious when it came to love. but you just suddenly came in, and it was like his heart wasn’t even locked away in the first place.

scaramouche knows he has fallen deep when he realizes that only you could make him feel like this—his very own best friend.

#( writings ) #astronetwrk #favoniuslibrary #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #albedo x reader #xiao x reader #thoma x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #albedo #xiao #thoma #kazuha #scaramouche #wanderer #my all time favorite draft ngl

[atierrorian]

So... can you do Vil with a reader that is lazy and doesn't care about their own appearance, runs (and manages to escape) every time Vil tries to make them do skincare or put makeup? Bonus: reader loves to chase after Vil dirty with mud to hug him and make him mad on purpose

Of course! But Vil would not be very happy about this predicament... But it's amusing so!

Context: Despite being a Pomefiore, you most definitely don't act like one! Or aka your just another Epel, just a bit more wild and crazier. And Vil gets a headache from you.

Some warnings before we start: Reader is part of Pomefiore, if you squint you can see some mentions of insecurities

Can be read as Platonic or Romantic! (Mostly Platonic tho)

Part 2

Word count: 1.4k

Vil has no idea how you were even accepted into Pomefiore.

I mean, you had no etiquette whatsoever, he really doesn't understand why the mirror sorted you into Pomefiore, it was a mystery that he thought would never be solved.

But he does have to admit, you were beautiful if you did actually made any effort to make yourself look more into the standards of Pomefiore, but rarely do you even do try to make yourself look presentable.

Vil sighed, you were basically just another Epel, but more crazier and wild. How was it even possible? What did the mirror even see in you to sort you into Pomefiore? I mean first of all, you were lazy and didn't even bothered to try and fix your appearance, second of all, when he does try to fix your appearance, you would successfully managed to escape him and run away, it really did infuriate him, and third, when you get yourself dirt or even mud, you chase him. The first time you did that, he almost passed out.

Vil doesn't even know how you even manage to escape every single time! It was really annoying him, you ruin the image of Pomefiore and the Evil Queen's image.

His gonna have to step up his game if he wants you to at least behave, you're part of Pomefiore whether you liked it or not. He is seriously gonna have to teach you some etiquette, but you somehow escape the lessons and now he is gonna have to find you. Again.

And that's what his doing, trying to find you. He already ordered Rook to go and find you but currently he still hasn't found you. Seriously how do you even manage to escape from Vil and Rook's grasp?

You seriously are such a troublesome aren't you?

As Vil's heels echoed through the hallway trying to find you, he spotted Rook with you as you didn't even bothered to try and escape, knowing it was futile to even try, especially since Rook has his grip on you. Both you and Rook looked at the sound of heels echoing through the hallway, knowing who it was.

"Ah! Roi du Poison, your just in time! [Name] and I were just having a little chat while waiting for you!" Rook said while still holding the scruff of the Pomefiore uniform while you looked slightly annoyed and crossed your arms.

Your appearance was really really messy, it was seriously annoying to see your appearance so messy and so lazy.

"Why didn't you bring them to me?" Vil said, raising an eyebrow wondering why Rook didn't bring you to him, he could have fixed your appearance now that you were caught right handed. He really needed to fix your appearance, you were really muddy, your hair is a mess, and even your uniform was untidy.

"Why Roi du Poison! I simply wanted to have a little chat with [Name] here before bringing them to you!" Rook said while he still held your untidy uniform.

"Just let me go already, my appearance is fine the way it is, besides, I can have myself cleaned." You said, still struggling to get out of Rook's grip.

Vil glanced at you and Rook as he sighed. He might have to extend your etiquette lessons. You were seriously really hard to manage, for the love of the sevens.

Vil looked at you and mentally sighed to himself. Your seriously a troublemaker, and the complete opposite of what a Pomefiore should be.

"Your worse than Epel, you do know that right?" He said while walking towards you and looking at your appearance. You looked away from his stare ignored him.

"I seriously don't get why the mirror even chose you to be in Pomefiore, you don't even have half of the qualities of being a Pomefiore." He said before sighing and telling Rook to bring you back to the room so that you and him could resume your lessons. You really were quite the troublesome weren't you? You and Epel were basically partners in crime, except Epel was a lot more easier to teach, ish.

[Name] groaned knowing that they would have to go back to those silly little etiquette lessons, it was so boring first of all and you didn't even had that much energy to follow through the grueling lessons. You didn't even know why you were even sorted into Pomefiore too anyways. You were basically being forced into these lessons, and you hated it.

As Vil walked away, Rook smiled at you and told you to not to worry, you are worried. I mean, you could be all those qualities of Pomefiore, you just didn't really feel like it most of the time. You thought it was just a waste of time to be honest.

"Don't give that look [Name], Roi du Poison is merely looking out for you." Rook said, noticing your expression. I mean you get that you have to put the image of Pomefiore but it was seriously tiring doing that.

"I get that Vil wants me to be all so, you know, more proper, but it's honestly so tiring." You said as Rook let go of your collar. This time, you didn't bother trying to run away, knowing it was futile since Rook was literally right beside you. And if you tried to run away now, you'd be in a lot more trouble then you already were.

You were seriously gonna get revenge soon. But later, once your done with the lessons with Vil, maybe then you can get your little revenge on Vil. Like, I guess chasing him again while you have mud on yourself? You can try but that would double the lessons, but it would be so worth it.

.

.

.

Finally, after that grueling lessons, you were finally done with the lessons. You feel like you can pass out now, all those lectures and etc were just so tiring, you don't know how much more you had to do this, or how long you can even take this at this point.

You panted as Vil glanced at your way, you were sweaty and looked like you were about to pass out from exhaustion, which technically, you were about to pass out. You swear you will chase him again with mud on you.

As if Vil could read your mind, he told you to not even think about getting yourself dirt or mud again, and even chase him while you had dirt and mud on you again.

"Do not even think about doing that [Name], or there will be severe consequences for that." He said as he tidied up the place while you pouted.

"Oh whatever, I'm going back to my room and take a bath." You said, you seriously are going back to your room and take a bath because sheesh, you stink as hell and it isn't exactly nice to smell it.. Even you admit it.

"Hm, alright Potato, get some rest alright?" Vil said while you nodded at his words and walked towards the door trying to go back to your own room. And before you could walk out the door you hear Vil say something.

"And also Potato, do take good care of yourself, okay?" He said, you softly smiled at his words and nodded, but this doesn't mean you still won't try to chase him.

Vil sighed as he watched you walked out the door.

What a troublesome potato indeed.

Bonus: warning, ooc

"[NAME] I SWEAR IF YOU WON'T STOP CHASING ME I WILL SERIOUSLY MAKE OUR LESSONS MORE HARDER!" Vil shouted at you as you chased him, trying to hug with while having mud on you.

"Oh come on Vil! I only want a hug!" You yelled while having your arms wide open trying to hug Vil. Even if Vil was going to make the lessons 10x harder, it would be so worth it.

"ROOK!"

"Yes Roi du Poison?" Rook smiled at the scene in front of him, this was quite amusing indeed. Vil yelled at Rook to do something about this current situation.

Rook simply smiled but agreed and tried to chase after you while you were chasing Vil.

As Epel was looking at the scene in front of him, he tried really hard not to laugh, but wasn't able to and laughed real hard.

This "Family" is quite messed up, but at least they all know.

Maybe not "all" but you get my drift.

Whew! This was quite enjoyable to write, but at the same time it also doesn't make sense! But I do hope you guys enjoyed this as well!

#atier's works✎ #Twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Vil schoenheit x reader #twst scenario #twisted wonderland scenario

[the-s1lly-corner]

not sure if you have done something like this before but can you do one where the reader is the type to call everyone pet names? Kind of like Caine does, like "my dear", "darling", stuff like that

TADC cast x reader who calls them pet names!

ooouuugh characters who call people names of endearment habitually my beloved <33 gotta be one of my favorite genres of character; side eyes itward and dick knubbler and caine unrelated to everything im so mad it took me so long to listen to psycho teddy ive literally had it on loop all day and yesterday while i write RAAAAAAAH romantic leaning by the way! though some can be platonic if you squint, i think!!

CAINE:

honestly i think caine only calls people endearing names platonically and on occasion, but i think you calling him the same style of names it makes his habit more prevalent. i think the first time you call him something like dear, hon, or darling, he kind of does a double take. i mean, hes always the one saying names, but hes never really... been the one on the receiving end... now im not sure if you wanted this to be platonic or romantic, but i think regardless of which this one is; caine loves it and makes it known. you guys experiment to see which names are his favorite eheeh

POMNI:

i think it would take her some time to get used. i think the main reason she didnt really react to caine calling her those names was due to the shock, just to add some explanation for this post in particular on why she didnt seem to mind... i think if there were any names that made her uncomfortable, she would let you know! does eventually embrace it and probably asks if somethings wrong if you call her by her actual name

RAGATHA:

honestly i can easily see ragatha using terms of endearment for those shes close to (like in a general sense, not just familial or romantically) and i can also see her being a huge fan of being called them! i dont think shes been bold enough to ask to be called them, though, so when you just call her dear and love shes over the moon! probably makes a matching name for you! you become to darling to her dear, the bear to her honey, the sweetheart to her sweetpea, and so on and so forth. i just think... that would be really sweet... you know?

JAX:

calls you a really dumb name in response; like shnookums or something within that ballpark. honestly i think it depends on how you say it, when you say it, and how close you guys are when you call him any endearing name. personally i dont think jax likes public affections, since he kind of views it as vulnerability.... at least when hes on the receiving end. bro is weird like that, you know? only lets you call them any of those names behind closed doors.... thinks... surprises you one day by calling you a normal nickname... since usually its the above example or something completely out of no where like. "Mesopotamia" or "20 ton semi truck carrying 720 thunder fucking pounds of freight" or something just as hyper specific

KINGER:

oh i think he would love it a lot! probably calls you a name back in response, perhaps even one that matches; similar to what ragatha does! maybe its because hes old and he gives off nice dad/grandpa vibes, i can see him calling people that he cares about names of endearment (hes only 48)

thinks... though i do think he pauses the first time trying to process what you just called him.. takes him a few seconds before realizing. kind of like the "oh IM pretty boy!" audio but replace pretty boy with any name

ZOOBLE:

i think zooble is the only one who doesnt like endearing names; like i think in a romantic sense they would like it but only really like babe/baby, and not much else... very picky with what they do like, at least for this instance. definitely going to take some experimenting to see what sticks and what doesnt. funny little scenario but imagine sitting with them trying to find something they like and you call them something absolutely abhorrent, perhaps something akin to the "pookie bear with whipped cream and sprinkles on top" meme but WAAAAAY over the top and zooble just. "absolutely not."

not too mean to harsh with rejecting any names, though. but they are blunt about what they do and dont like

GANGLE:

honestly if this isnt romantic and this is platonic, she sees it the same way as when an older lady calls you a sweet name,... you know? does the ^w^ she does in her character intro short thing, me thinks, whenever you call her any name. very shy and sheepish about calling you any names in return, give her some time shes trying to hype herself up so she can return the same energy! only really likes it when you call her those endearing names, i fear that SOMEONE is going to tease her for it... poor girl.... explodes jax with my neurodivergant brain

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

[yacinthemorning]

Birdsongs

Chapter 7

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Summary: The Life Pilgrimage is the biggest music festival of the century, set to take place all across the continent. Small-time rock band, GIST, and the up-and-coming alternative band, Empire, are both lucky to be among the hundreds set to make appearances, but there's just one problem. Neither can afford the travel expenses on their own. For better or worse, they're stuck with each other for the next five weeks as they try to make their dreams come true.

And, perhaps, among the chaos and music, two unsuspecting souls find one another...

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic), Jimmy & Scott (platonic)

Warnings: Alcohol, drugs, verbal fights, theft, divorce talk

Jimmy was driver for the second day in a row.

Not that he minded. Actually, he’d discovered so far he quite liked driving, especially the trailer. It felt satisfying, the movements the vehicles made when he turned the wheel or pressed on the brakes. He caught a lot more of the scenery when he had to concentrate, also. Time just passed by faster, more peaceful. One of the few times of this trip he could stop thinking.

It was a bit funny really, because he’d waffled on acquiring his license until college, so he hadn’t gotten to drive much as a teen. Then he’d gotten together with Scott. It wasn’t something they talked about, but even when they drove Jimmy’s car the keys always ended up in Scott’s hands. After moving back in with Lizzie he’d sold his car to cushion himself. Joel was the sort of guy who refused to let anyone touch his baby, so more often than not he was driven around or carpooled. Really, the fact that Jimmy was even allowed to drive the trailer seemed wild to him, but he was glad he was.

Especially now, with everyone so quiet.

The trailer bounced on the uneven country road. There was a whistle-like squeak and a thunk. Joel groaned. Between the lights being off and the shade of the forest outside Jimmy didn’t bother trying to check on him. He took a deep breath of the morning air as it rushed past the open window, letting his hand hang against the outside of the door. There was a hum on his tongue, but he kept his mouth shut to avoid fratricide.

Another bounce, another whistle, another groan.

Shuffling footsteps slowly approached, and this time Jimmy did check the mirror. It was Tango, eyes still shut and using the walls to navigate his way up until he flopped down into the passenger seat. Jimmy smiled, “Mornin’, sunshine.”

Tango let out a grunt, head reclined and face pulled tight around his nose as he tried to adjust to the bright window. He flicked his red sunglasses out of his pocket before even daring to try opening his eyes. “What sort of mutant are you to be so perky this early?” He muttered, eyes squinted. They scanned about until they landed on the half-folded map across the dash, and snatched it up.

“One who had seven AM classes and never readjusted.” He shrugged.

“That’s such a lie.” Wheezed Lizzie from somewhere in the back. Jimmy could picture her wagging finger. “You’ve always gotten up at unholy hours and I know you know it.”

“Hey! You would have never made it to band practice all of grade eleven and twelve if it weren’t for me!”

“Twas you whom sealed my fate, oh retched inhuman beast.”

“A thank you would be fine, you know!”

Thump, whistle, groan.

Tango snickered. “Alright, so where’s the hospital?”

“Should be a few miles up the road in another town.” He reached over, tapping a red H located on the map. “Another ten minutes probably. There’s a Ricky’s across the street from it so we can meet there for breakfast and sort all our stuff back into the right vehicles.”

The mention of food elicited a happy chorus from the zombie horde. Jimmy smiled and reached over the console for his water bottle before pushing it into Tango’s face. “I refilled all the ones I could find before disconnecting the water.”

Tango blinked, eyes dilating at the speed of molasses as his brain clicked back into reality. “Look at you, thinkin’ of everything. What’d we do without you?” He grinned and took the bottle. Jimmy felt his cheeks warm, back straightening up as he turned his attention onto the road.

Thump, whistle, groan.

His hold on the wheel tightened. “Well, all the responsible people are at the hospital, so someone has to do it.”

“I’m not sure going to the ER ‘cause of a bar brawl screams responsible.”

The bottle clunked back into the console, Tango scooting forward in his seat to lean his head back. Not on Jimmy’s watch. “Says the man without a seatbelt on.” He said, then cringed. It sounded so much more obnoxious when he said it aloud. If it bothered Tango he didn’t show it, fumbling for the belt with one hand and eyes closed.

“Ah well, stuff like this is gonna happen.” Tango said. “Better to get it out of our systems early, right? It’s all smooth sailing now.”

“Are you trying to dare the devil or something?” Joel interjected from his seat, giving voice to Jimmy’s thoughts.

But Tango waved him off, “What? That’s how you’re supposed to do it. Go wild the first little bit so everything after feels like a walk in the park! That’s how we’ve always done things, shakes off the nerves.”

Jimmy wasn’t so sure that’s how it worked, but he certainly hoped it was. As much fun as last night had been, it was probably for the best it was behind them.

A sign flashed by, almost too fast, telling Jimmy it was finally their turn off the freeway. Trees gave way to a town that was more of a giant truck stop, uncomfortably sparse with everything paved over, and enormous signs advertising fast food joints and gas prices heads above the tallest building. Actual homes were scattered further out in the hills or awkwardly dotted among the half-empty parking lots, their picket fences and old shingles all that was left of when the town must have been much quainter.

Their bandmates were already waiting for them outside the hospital, and five minutes later they were piling into Ricky’s for brunch. Judging from its proximity to the hospital and the fact that Jimmy could recognize several faces at the other tables, it probably wasn’t a surprised the waitress didn’t question why they all smelled worse than they looked. Scott managed to escape with only a split lip and bruise under his eye, his stitches being for a long cut up his forearm. Fwhip was not as lucky. Gem was already busy making fun of the man who looked like he’d been one with the bar floor mid-brawl. She was one to talk, given the black eye she sported. Jimmy was pretty sure he saw her nearly bite someone’s ear off, though, so he abstained from interrupting her.

With ten people their orders came in rounds. First came Pearl’s omelette with the works alongside Scott’s bennies and Skizz’s ridiculously huge grand breakfast that seemed to be three of everything. It was less ridiculous when Jimmy realized he was sharing with Impulse. Then came Gem’s clubhouse, Fwhip’s chicken tenders, and Lizzie’s fish and chips. After that was Joel’s bacon cheddar burger, and finally-

“Here you are, buttermilk pancakes.” The waitress announce cheerfully as she slipped one plate in front of Jimmy and another in front of Tango, placing a single plate with butter, strawberries, and maple syrup between them. Or, rather, directly in front of Joel, who was sat in the middle of them and giving Jimmy the most unimpressed look. It was his fault for insisting on sitting across from Lizzie instead of beside her.

Tango snatched up the butter, seemingly unsatisfied with the single square already atop it. In the process he all but pushed the strawberries onto Jimmy’s plate. More than fine by Jimmy. “So, Miss Manager, what’s the verdict on getting to the venue today?” He asked, giving Jimmy a thankful grin when he was passed the syrup that made Joel pretend to shove his knife down his throat to gag. Jimmy knocked his leg.

Pearl hummed until she could swallow. “Should still be able to make it if we just keep going, maybe ten or eleven?”

Just shy of twelve hours with breaks and dinner. “Y’okay to drive that long on your own?” Piped up Impulse, the only other person without a headache or head wound.

Jimmy nodded, “Think so.” He frowned, looking the man up and down. “Um, would you prefer to switch?” It may have been Impulse’s car, but it was still cramped compared to the trailer. Impulse waved him off, though.

“We need more buns and salad before we go.” Chimed Gem.

Skizz balked. “What? What happened to the tub of macaroni salad?”

“Someone left it out.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. I hate that stuff!”

“Sounds exactly like something someone who left it out would say.”

“Why does it matter? You didn’t have to throw it out, one night wouldn’t hurt it.”

“Um, ew? It absolutely would!”

“Yeah, I gotta agree, it’s pretty nasty...”

Joel smacked the syrup right out of Tango’s hand as he passed it over the shorter man’s head. It clattered to the table, rolling off into Jimmy’s lap. “Joel!” He shrieked, pushing up out of his chair. The case hooked over the back of his chair clattered loudly to the ground, wringing winces from those around him. Both his shirt and jeans were coated in sugar. Everyone paused in their arguments to watch Jimmy squirm in his own skin. The whole restaurant was, actually. Jimmy’s face turned beet red, grabbing a napkin to try and at least wipe down his arms, but the thin paper just curled and tore and created a worse mess. Joel just laughed.

“Here, dampen it.” At the very least Pearl tried to help, dabbing another napkin into an untouched glass of water, but it didn’t help much.

He sighed in resignation, and began to pick up his poor guitar. It was a delicate process not to get it coated as well. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“We should find somewhere to do laundry, too.” He heard Scott say behind him. “Some of you have been wearing the same clothes for a few days now and you can smell it.”

Several individuals protest, all people Jimmy knew for certain qualified for that statement. He hurried along before he could get caught in the crossfire.

-

The dryers were taking their damn time.

Tango chalked it up to the things looking about thirty years old and beaten to crap by who-knows-who.

The washers rumbled under him, eyes glued to the ever spinning clothes. Goosebumps ran up his arms from the air conditioning, a constant reminder he was stuck in his undershirts and shorts. His own fault for throwing all his clothes into simultaneous loads. There was the softest tune under the hum of machines emanating from a portable radio in the staff booth echoed by his bass. He’d taken a page out of Jimmy’s book and brought it in with him. Of course, he wasn’t about to plug the thing in, lest the ancient temple’s Edwardian era wiring explodificate and leave them with nothing but wet clothes and sadness. That didn’t mean he couldn’t strum along to the Steve Miller Band while longingly watching the concrete outside bake.

“How does he do that?”

Tango let out a screech like a shot seagull, almost falling off the washer. When had Jimmy and Gem gotten here? How long had he spaced out? The two weren’t even paying Tango any attention while Jimmy slipped his case off his shoulder and popped it open. Gem dropped a grocery bag and hopped up on the washer beside him, enclosing the tallest between her and Tango, while he organized his fingers along the strings. “What?” Tango finally asked, grabbing the two’s attention.

“That little- like, the cat call.” He muttered, mimicking the whistle. Hands absently adjusted to what he thought might be the proper notes.

Gem reached out and adjusted his ring finger. “I’m pretty sure it’s that, then you just sorta...” She pulled away, air-guitaring the motion for him to copy. He did so, but without being plugged in it was hard to tell if he’d gotten it for certain.

Tango’s eyes followed the movement of his left hand. Theoretical tones played along in his brain. Too stiff. He scooted around until he was facing them. “Here.” He called for their attention. When Jimmy’s curios gaze shifted from Tango to his bass Tango showed his own attempt at the segment. One he’d done long ago but not since. Both guitarists had their eyes glued to his hands, making him second guess every single choice he’d ever made in life that put him here, thinking he could teach other people how to play their own instruments while in his skivvies in public.

They foolishly mimicked him anyways, pleased with whatever popped up in their own mind’s eye. Tango went back to strumming along with the actual bass. Gem happily jumped in as well. “I’m a joker, I’m a smoker, I’m a midnight toker, I get my lovin’ on the run,” she sang, too pretty. Jimmy quickly picked up after them on the guitar after a stumble in the first notes. Something Tango was beginning to suspect he was incapable of not doing. For someone who spent his time on stage just setting the beat, Tango thought Jimmy handled the solo better than expected. The lazy guitar was well out of his comfort zone, though, his movements still stiff.

Both men half-heartedly joined Gem’s singing as the song came to an end, her hands slapping the lid of the machines as some type of drum. Tango’s nose began to itch. The song faded out and the channel host piped up. At the same moment the machine Tango sat on ended its cycle, buzzing at him. All of it was drowned out by the loudest sneeze Tango had ever suffered, the force of which was enough to knock him right off his precarious perch. Enough to scare his companions.

“I think Skizz’s grandma heard that!” Gem laughed.

But Jimmy frowned, “Do you need a sweater?”

“S’in the dryer still.” He sniffled, trying to keep his eyes from watering.

That didn’t deter the guitarist, who went for their laundry bag, then stumbled outside towards the trailer when he didn’t find what he was looking for. Tango wondered if he even noticed he still had his guitar around his neck, case abandoned. Another machine buzzed, this time a dryer.

“He’s definitely going to bump off the doorway.” Gem whispered. On cue, Both ends of Jimmy’s poor guitar slammed into either side of the trailer, almost throwing Jimmy to the ground. He stood there, confused, before he hugged his guitar to his shoulder and went in sideways. Tango raised an amused eyebrow towards Gem, who was trying not to laugh too loud. “Oh, silly Jimmy.”

“Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same.” Tango tried to defend even as he also began to giggle. He absently grabbed for the laundry bag and yanked open the dryer. The warmth soaked into his skin.

Gem rolled her eyes and sent him a pointed, unimpressed look. “That’s ‘cause you’re also a silly goose.”

“Guilty as charged.” He couldn’t exactly defend himself on that one. So, he changed the subject. “You two play well together.”

There was a hum Tango thought might have been agreement. “We picked up guitar around the same time, so we learned together from my mum.”

He’d heard it before. How Gem had gone from only wanting to sing as a kid to feeling embarrassed it was all she could do in her teens. Nothing wrong with expanding your horizons, he had told her. As often as Tango experimented with new instruments he always wandered back to his bass.

“You were part of Empire, then?” He asked.

Gem shrugged, “Not really? I mean, we played together and Lizzie and Scott were writing some songs, but the band didn’t really exist yet. They talked about it a lot but I don’t know, guess I knew from the start I wouldn’t end up playing with them.” She grinned, “I have way more fun with you guys, anyways!”

Maybe it was just his imagination guilt tripping him, but it felt like there was something almost determined and a bit desperate in her last statement. He looked away. “It’s been fun playing with you too, Glitter Girl.”

The door creaked open, and Jimmy tripped through it. One hand held his guitar flush to his chest, while the other was wrangling a familiar blanket that had been rapidly unfolding itself. “I couldn’t- Scott wouldn’t let me mess with the clothes he already folded, but...”

“Thanks, partner.” Tango smiled, letting the man throw it over Tango’s shoulders like a cape. He didn’t bother to mention that he now had access to several pieces of his own clothes. It couldn’t hurt to wait for the second load. What was he going to do, suddenly be even more embarrassed than he already was? Besides, the blanket had trapped its fair share of warmth from the dryer, and Tango was very quickly sinking deeper into it.

 Jimmy’s smile was shy, cheeks just slightly rosy, before he turned towards his guitar case. Leaned out of the way, Tango got a clear view of Gem once more, who had her clasped hands to her cheek and was making kissy faces at Tango. Like the responsible adult he was he stuck his tongue out at her. She giggled. Well, at least he had company now.

-

It was ten to eleven when they rolled into the next venue. They were lucky to do so, as check in would close for the day after eleven. The very grumpy and tired staffer was particularly adamant on reminding them of that fact through the entire process. They made it, though, and they parked in their place. A gravel lot used for parking, with no room for much else between vehicles. Worse yet, there was separate designated spaces for cars and trailers, so the car wound up a quarter of a mile away. It all sucked, to be frank, but it also didn’t matter. Everyone was too tired and too excited to care. Everyone except Scott, at least, who was already preparing a speech that would make whatever poor worker he would confront tomorrow morning about these inconveniences wish they were never born.

For the rest of them, though, it was bed time.

By this point in their journey, Jimmy had become used to waking up wrapped around Tango. It was cold at night and the man was practically a furnace, sue him. The sun had yet to rise, but there was a subtle thumping from the bathroom before Scott walked out, sans makeup or patience. His exhausted glare landed on Jimmy and warped into a raised eyebrow. Jimmy’s face turned pink, rolling over and burying it into Tango’s hair. No confrontation came of it, only a snort. Still, he waited until the door rattled close. Someone else in the trailer groaned, but no one got up.

After a long moment of debate, Jimmy decided to begrudgingly get up. Someone should make breakfast, and he was on a usefulness streak lately. When he sat up, though, Tango’s face scrunched and he was pulled in tighter. Jimmy muffled a snort, “I’m not your teddybear, you know.” he murmured to the sleeping man. A pillow seemed to suffice as a replacement for Tango. It did not do so for Jimmy himself, who was now surrounded by freezing morning air and clinging to his equally cold guitar. Right, sweater first, then teeth.

Ten minutes later Jimmy made it out of the trailer without waking anyone else. Scott was, predictably, nowhere to be seen. Whoever their neighbour was to be had yet to arrive, so Jimmy got to work pulling out the folding table.

The smell of coffee woke someone up. Jimmy was halfway through setting up chairs when something inside slammed against the wall. That, or someone went face first into the bathroom door. Pearl’s face poked out the door, hair still twirled up in a braid and a sheepish smile on her face. “How’s it going out here?” She half-whispered.

“Was about to mix up scrambled eggs.” He explained, motioning towards the table. Milk, cheese, and the whole carton of eggs patiently waited next to an unopened tray of breakfast sausages and bag of hash browns. “We got some miniwheats if you want something now, though.”

“I can wait.” She flopped down into one of the folding chairs, next to the one Jimmy’s guitar was leaned in. He threw her an orange juice at the very least. “So, where’d Scott run off to?”

Jimmy tilted his head, frowning. Not that he was an expert, but that was most certainly not Pearl’s usual tone. She was focused on getting the straw into her juice box when he looked to her, though. Was he still half asleep? “He’s-”

“Right here.”

Now that tone Jimmy was an expert in. Tired, cranky, and done with everything, but, like, while still covered in glitter and a spotlight. There was no way to tell if he was actually enraged or just wanted to put on a show. Either way, Jimmy counted down with perfect timing to Scott’s hand slamming against the table and letting out the world’s longest sigh. “The organizers at this venue are absolutely incompetent.” He whined, head lulling dramatically as though he’d been shot. A show it was.

“Oh really? How so?” Pearl indulged.

“Well, by not even being awake yet, for one.”

“It’s six AM, mate. Give ‘em at least until eight, there’s like five people here at this point.”

Scott pouted, glancing off into the distance as if he was really considering it until he huffed. “I’m awake now, though, and I want to give them a piece of my mind.”

“A piece, or the whole pie.” Jimmy teased, pointing the whisk at him before turning towards the eggs.

There was a gasp, “Jimmy! Of course not.” There was an odd quiet moment that followed. One that had Jimmy worried until he heard the hash brown bag shake. His head shot up in time to watch Scott place the frozen bag back into the cooler.

“Hey!”

“They’ll thaw.” Was his only explanation before he went to sit down.

Jimmy’s nose scrunched up in annoyance. “They’re just hash browns, it’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t want to have to buy a whole new bag like the salad.”

Another protest almost left his lips, but they clamped shut as he watched Scott run his hands over his face. Bags under his eyes and bruises all over his arms still. You said it yourself, it’s just hash browns, not a big deal. He went back to preparing the egg mixture and setting the table, waiting for more folks to awaken. If Scott needed to stick his nose in things to get over his mood it wasn’t his business.

Pearl had much stronger words for him from what Jimmy could make out from her tone, though too quiet to catch much of what it was. Given he heard something about punching Jimmy guessed it was about the bar still. He snorted, good luck with that. Scott had always been a messy drunk, like one of those toy cars. The tighter he wound during the day the worse it was when he let go. Something people had to learn on their own, he supposed.

Some time later Impulse and skizz tumbled out of the trailer, perkier than any of them, and Jimmy was finally allowed to pull the hash browns out of the cooler.

Jimmy was sitting with his chin up on his guitar when Tango stumbled out, last of the whole bunch and clinging to the pillow Jimmy had left him with like a lost child. He caught sight of Jimmy and beamed a toothy grin his way even as he shivered like a leaf in the cold morning air. Whatever was left of Jimmy’s earlier sour mood flew away. “Anything left for me?” He asked.

Skizz answered, putting sombre hands on the sleepy man’s shoulders. “You know what they say, Top. Early bird gets the worm. I’m afraid you’ll have to starve.”

“I made you a plate already.” Jimmy announced, pulling the pot lid off the plate sat behind him and holding it out. “You’ll have to make the toast, though, if you want any.”

A smug little noise left Tango along with a matching look towards Skizz, “Thank you, and that I do.” He then turned to the toaster and spun the dial all the way up to charcoal levels. That, Jimmy mused, was a practice he could never get behind. But to each their own, he supposed.

Then something whistled.

There was no thump.

And others paused.

“Okay, what is that?” Joel hissed as he approached the tires. “There a leak?”

“Never heard a leak sound like that.” Impulse chimed in with concern and joined him. Jimmy pulled his case closer.

Another whistle. Another no thump.

That one had Pearl, Scott, and Skizz all joining in the search for the defect. Lizzie worried the hem of her shirt. “Oh gosh we only just got to the second venue. I hope nothing’s broken.”

“You okay?” Tango asked, and it took Jimmy a moment to realize it was directed at him. He shrugged back and buried his face in his case.

“It’s from in here!” Skizz called out. The storage lock clicked open. “Kinda sounds like- WOAH, HEY!”

The whistle turned into a frantic flurry of chirps and rattles. Someone nearby gasped.

“What in the world-”

“Is that a bloody bird?”

“Oh my god!”

“Stop! Don’t open it!”

“Who would...”

“Put it down, put it down!”

Metal clanged against the gravel lot. Jimmy finally peeled himself apart enough to peek out at the scene. Most of the two bands were surrounding a painted cage, where a little yellow bird was flitting about in a panic. Instantly three sets of eyes turned onto him instead. Lizzie, Joel, and Scott.

“Jimmy.” Scott said with great strain.

Jimmy shrunk away, face twisted. “What?”

“I couldn’t help notice you don’t seem all that surprised.”

“Wait a minute, I’ve seen this before.” Skizz interrupted them both, kneeling down next to the cage. “There was something just like this in a house next to the park.”

Lizzie’s hands went to her hips. “James Solidarity, did you steal a bird? Don’t you lie to me!”

“No!” He lied.

Joel’s hands went to his hair, a humourless laugh escaping. “Dude, what the heck, you didn’t even drink! Why did you steal a bird?”

“I don’t know!” He curled his whole body around his guitar. “I was just- everything was really exciting and- look, I’m not the one who got stabbed with a broken bottle!”

“Uh, this ain’t about me right now, dude.” Fwhip muttered, though he nudged out of the circle to hide behind his bandmates.

While his own bandmates continued shouting GIST stood to their own side, caught between shock and amusement. At least Impulse and Gem seemed shocked. Tango was doubled over, cackling like a madman, while Skizz tried to hide his giggles and failed miserably. “Oh this is too good.” He said. Pearl had her own hand over her mouth, impossible to tell what his emotions were except from the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes. None seemed angry. It made Jimmy feel much better, if he could only block out the yelling from his peers.

He launched forward, spurred on by a new wave of confidence, “Look, I know it was stupid-”

“Stupid barely begins to cover it.” Scott drawled, rolling his eyes. “What are we supposed to do, now? We can’t just bring it back, we’re on a schedule. And what if someone saw you? Did you think this through at all?” His foot was going against the gravel, letting Jimmy know how close he was to the end of the fiddler’s nerves. For once it only put more coals on the fire. It was Scott’s fault in the first place for his own stress, he had no right to put it on Jimmy like he was the only one who did something stupid in the last few days.

No, it was entirely unfair. “Everyone’s made a fool of themselves, why are you singling me out?”

Scott gaped. Wrong answer. “Because there is currently a fucking bird in our trailer right now! That you stole and that I’m going to have to clean up!” He snapped, throwing his hands at the cage and then at Jimmy. “Why are you always like this!”

Everyone quieted. GIST’s giggles died while Empire’s various reactions all settled into concern. The indignation had fizzled out from Jimmy’s heart as well, leaving him stubbornly silent as his face heated. Scott’s chest heaved, glaring Jimmy down and oh, if looks could kill he’d be nothing but minced meat ground deep into the mud. It’s about what he felt like in that moment.

Fwhip was the first to dare break the silence, placing a hand on Scott’s shoulder that was promptly thrown off. “Hey, it’s fine. I’ll just take the car and bring the bird back.”

“No, you won’t.” Scott hissed. He tore a lighter out of his pocket. “You need to be here to sell our CDs and manage contacts while we’re performing, and you can’t do that if you’re busy a day’s drive away searching for the owner on your own, because Skizz and Jimmy are not going back with you.” As he rambled his grip shook and the cigarette he fumbled with snapped in half. It was thrown to the ground, “Fuck’s sakes...”

“Hey, buddy, calm down.” Tango interjected. He was silenced with a single side eye, but Pearl took his place.

“Look, this is entirely fixable. If Fwhip can’t go then I will, and if not we’ll find another solution. It’s not the end of the world.”

If Scott heard her he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead he stomped off towards a neon green trailer down the way, leaving the group caught in the awkward atmosphere. When some of the eyes turned to Jimmy he took up examining the gravel under his own feet.

“Well, that... was a lot.” Impulse chuckled.

Tango snorted. “A lot of bullshit.”

“Tango!”

“What? It’s true!”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s come over him.” So started Fwhip’s apologizing, rambling on explanations to avoid their bands’ collective embarrassment. Jimmy could still feel his blood simultaneously boiling and frozen in his veins and did not bother to contribute.

A delicate hand landed on his arm, Lizzie’s eyes wide and glossy. “Are you okay, Jim?”

He shook off the touch and went to grab the cage, and bolted for the door. The moment it shuttered behind him muffled conversation picked up outside, audibly tense. Instead, he put the bird down on the counter, crawled into the safety of bed, and pulled his case into his lap. The leather was cold against his forehead, cooling his quick breaths before they buffeted back against his throat.

This was inevitable. They all knew it, it wasn’t like five whole adults were completely oblivious to the winding key that had been tightening since the start of this trip. Since the divorce, really. Or maybe before. Probably before. It still hurt.

Free from the dark the bird began to chatter. What seemed so soothing days ago grated against the last shreds of Jimmy’s composure. “Shut up.” He tried to snap but it came out more like begging. Of course, he canary had no idea. The chirps continued on. He thought he might be able to feel them scraping against his brain. It was probably thirsty and hungry, the kinder part of him reminded. He didn’t want to be kind right now, though. It was all he could do not to find something to throw at the cage.

The door shook. Jimmy didn’t look up, but he recognized the sound of heavy steel-toe boots by now. There was the smallest sound of a breath catching, but no words followed. Instead the bird cage rattled, agitating both the canary and Jimmy. “Here, find some food for it or something.” The bassist whispered to someone before the canary’s cries became distant. Jimmy knew from the way the trailer tipped that Tango had not left with it, but nor had he entered further than needed to close the door. He was probably waiting for some sign from Jimmy, whether to go away or not. Not a question Jimmy was sure he had an answer to quite yet.

“You want breakfast?” Tango asked instead.

Jimmy wanted to say no, but his stomach protest. He shrugged. The trailer shook and a box thunked against the counter. At first he assumed Tango was pouring cereal until he heard the faucet and something scraping. That was apparently enough to get Jimmy to peek. Butter hit the frying pan, and he watched half-baffled, half-fascinated, as Tango poured batter into it soon after.

Cooking took only a few minutes. Really, with the instant mix it was amazing how quickly it could go. Inevitably, the fire alarm went off, startling both of them. Tango grumbled and hissed while waving a towel around. It didn’t take long, but just long enough for Jimmy to loosen the tight ball he’d pulled himself into. Giant boots still on, Tango sat down on the bed next to Jimmy and handed him the pancakes past his guitar.

They sat in silence through the first half, Jimmy slowly shovelling bites that were a bit too big into his mouth while Tango looked at everything but him. Eventually, though, the guitarist remembered his manners. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Tango assured, even though it certainly was.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said instead.

It got a shrug and a shift to a more comfortable position on the bed, accepting the silent invitation. “Every bands’ been there. Can’t tell you how many times me and Skizz have yelled at each other.”

“But not like that.” Guessed Jimmy, which from the look on Tango’s face he was right. He sighed and set his plate aside. “He’s never yelled at me before.”

“Really?” There was a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“Yes.” Jimmy shut down immediately, though his full reply took another moment to gather his thoughts. “Silent treatment, passive aggressive comments, but we’ve never yelling. Not seriously. Never had a fight.”

“Nothing at all?”

He paused. In the grand scheme of things, Tango was still a stranger. All of GIST except Gem were, really. Having someone new to talk to was great, and Jimmy wasn’t clever enough to deny his growing fondness for Tango, but he was still mostly a stranger. One who didn’t need dragging into their band’s silly interpersonal drama. Maybe, though, that Pandora ’s Box was already ripped wide open, given the incident that just occurred. If they were going to be stuck with it for the next month they at least deserved to know a bit more.

Or maybe Jimmy was just looking for an excuse to let it all out on some poor guy who was a bit too nice to him. His tongue made the choice for him, beginning to spill out the story before he thought anymore about it. “You know there wasn’t a fight even at the end?”

Tango perked up, attention fully turning on him now with a sombre expression.

“I just- there never was. I remember thinking now and then about what getting a divorce might take. Scott’s the one who organized all the marriage stuff. There’s probably something poetic in there or something.” He let out a humourless laugh. “But, one day I just sort of... did it. Nothing happened. Normal day. I just called up and asked after work, and then I had the paperwork in my hands.”

He could picture the scene quite clearly, not from that specific day but from how many times he walked through that side door. The teal paint that was beginning to chip, the colourful fish themed wind chime, the tall trashcan he always caught his jacket on no matter how many times he passed it. “Scott was sitting at the table writing a song or something. I put them down beside him and asked if he could sign them. Think he already knew, not like I do much paperwork stuff. He didn’t say anything, though. Just read it like I was handing him a flyer or anything else. I don’t know if he really was fine with all it said, it was pretty heavy in his favour since I was the one with family nearby and the house and car were his to start. But he signed it. Four minutes of reading and he just signs it and hands it back.”

“After that was like the most normal conversation in the world, too. Asked when I wanted to move out, when he should call Joel and Lizzie to come over, if I had boxes yet.” And Jimmy had replied much the same back. Of course, he knew what was going on in his own head at the time. A whole lot of nothing and everything all at once that made the rest of the day pass in a blur until he was in the spare room at Lizzie’s. It took a day before he finally had his first breakdown over it, and of course it had to be at the dinner table in front of both his sister and brother-in-law. “We didn’t see each other for two weeks, and then we were back in his studio, practising for a gig that was coming up. It was like none of it ever happened. Talked about it one more time, wrote a song about it as you do, just to get it out of our system. Peachy after that.”

“That’s a lot to just sweep under the rug.” Tango finally interjected, brow pressed into a stressed line. Saying it out loud, Jimmy understood. The whole thing was ridiculous.

He leaned back, letting his guitar fall off beside him. “But we never yelled at each other.”

A particular loose thread in the blanket had captured Tango’s attention at some point, long enough for his finger to have gotten under the weave and pulled it further. He’d turned his full awareness onto it now, unlooping his finger and trying to smooth it out despite how long gone it was. Jimmy began to think maybe Tango wasn’t the person he should be talking to about this, that it should be Lizzie, or maybe some random person in a bar. Someone who wasn’t straddling the line, unquestionably on Jimmy’s side of things.

He had the sudden urge to assure that Scott was a great guy, it was both their fault things fell apart, that he was normally kind and funny. Anything that might leave Tango with a better impression than yelling and binning a seven year relationship and three year marriage without a fuss. It didn’t make it out of his head though, past the fog of annoyance that stubbornly clung to him. Deep down he knew he wanted Tango to join him in being spiteful and angry, some sort of external assurance it was okay. Either side being validated would make him just feel like crap.

Yeah, he definitely shouldn’t have chosen Tango to talk to. He was going to blame the pancakes, who wouldn’t blab after that?

It took him a moment to register Tango was speaking again, after an eternity of silence. “You wrote a song about it?”

Jimmy shrugged, patted his case. “Quick thing in like twenty minutes. Fixed it up here and there, but it’s still pretty awful. Bunch of self-indulgent metaphors and stuff.” Scott had joked, once, that it was an example of why he and Lizzie were the lyricists and Jimmy just played guitar.

“Do you play it?”

“Just with each other.” In fact, he could count on his hands the number of times they’d played it. “Whenever things get a bit tense. Don’t think either of us brought our copy along.”

“Does it help?”

At that Jimmy had to pause. Did it? Sometimes. It helped them get back into the groove of working together in the band, reminded Jimmy they weren’t just husbands, but friends and bandmates. It probably wasn’t what they needed specifically, but it did something. So, he replied, “Yeah.”

“That’s good.” Tango said genuinely. “Maybe you guys should do that then? I don’t know, sorry, I’m not very good at this sorta thing.”

He laughed. “No, you aren’t. I thought you were going somewhere with that.”

“Listen, I’m trying!” Tango threw his hands up. “I mean if I were you I woulda knocked the guys’ teeth out, got the daylights knocked outta me back, and never showed my face again. I might still do that anyways, who knows.”

“Aw, don’t do that, I’d miss you.” Jimmy bumped his shoulder into the others, trying hard not to keep giggling.

A smirk stretched across Tango’s face, eyebrows jumping up to where Jimmy worried about the piercings in them pulling at the skin. “Oh is that the part wrong with that? Maybe you aren’t as forgiving a guy as you seem.”

“Nope, I’m an angel.”

“I’d believe it.” Tango got up. “Point is, I talk a lot and don’t say much. You two seem to have a lot to say, though, that you don’t like talking about. Can’t be to good for your noggins. Or your music.”

Jimmy sighed, and accepted the hand held out towards him that pulled him up out of bed. “No, probably not. I wouldn’t know where to start, though.”

“That one is definitely outta my pay grade. You’ll have to upgrade to Skizz or something. I’m just bozo over here.”

As he said it he reached up and squeezed his own nose, making a strange noise that took Jimmy far too long to realize was supposed to be honking. He barked, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh my gosh, what was that?”

“Hey! Don’t laugh at my joke!”

Jimmy burst, doubling over.

The door opened, interrupting their laughter. Joel poked his head in, looking wary only for a moment before he got a good look at Jimmy and his shoulders visibly dropped. “You guys okay in here?” He asked anyways.

“Think so?” Tango replied, gaze darting back to Jimmy, who nodded.

“That’s good. Couple of us were going to go get a look at the stages while Pearl talked to the organizers. You feeling up to coming along, Jim?”

He suddenly became painfully aware of how cramped and stuffy the trailer was, now that everything seemed lighter. “Yeah, okay.”

They were filing out when, “Oh, hey, Jimmy?”

Jimmy turned, watching as Tango’s hand hooked around the strap of Jimmy’s guitar case and lifted it up off the bed, holding it out towards him in question. A hand flew to Jimmy’s shoulder, and he blinked. “Thanks.” He muttered, taking the guitar and throwing it back into its usual place. It never felt so light.

Tango grinned, and slapped him on the back. “Alright, let’s go!”

#solidaritek #team rancher #jimmy solidarity #tangotek #scott smajor #geminitay #mcyt #trafficshipping #traffic series #fanfic #fanfiction #modern au #hurt/comfort #sharing a slice of cake

[writing-havoc]

I can't STOP thinking of an idea for inej ghafa x fem!reader so here you go (let me know if I'm freaking you out or if I need to stop, please!). i've read several kaz fics where he gets jealous of r very close relationship with some crow, so imagine that except with inej, where r is kaz's childhood best friend and they are a duo in the eyes of practically everyone (some even consider them a couple). r and inej have been mutually interested in each other for a long time, but r doesn't do anything because she's afraid of the consequences if the information gets out and inej doesn't try anything because she's in doubt whether r likes girls the way she (inej) does. maybe after a heist gone wrong r narrowly escaped death and now inej can't stop thinking about what could have happened if something worse had happened and r had died so the two talk privately and both admit what they feel one for the other. I can't get this idea out of my head and now I want to know how you would write about it. love inej and would like to see more of her point of view on her. oh, it would also be really nice if there was a spotlight on the platonic kaz x reader relationship. something like "we have a problem" and "no you have a problem, I have a problem friend". I imagine too much kaz rolling her eyes at every involuntary sigh of r for inej and at the end when r goes to tell her and inej getting together, kaz just like: "really? and the sky is blue?" but secretly glad her friend and the wraith are together. just inej and r being crazy about each other and kaz turning a blind eye (no romantic feelings for either of course)ssalto que deu errado r escapou por pouco da morte e agora inej pode ' t parar de pensar sobre o que poderia ter acontecido se algo pior tivesse acontecido e r tivesse morrido então os dois conversam em particular e ambos admitem o que sentem um pelo outro. Não consigo tirar essa ideia da cabeça e agora quero saber como você escreveria sobre isso. amo inej e gostaria de ver mais de seu ponto de vista sobre ela. ah, também seria muito bom se houvesse um destaque na relação platônica kaz x leitor. algo como "nós temos um problema" e "não, você tem um problema, eu tenho um problema amigo". Imagino demais kaz revirando os olhos a cada suspiro involuntário de r para inej e no final quando r vai contar pra ela e inej se reunindo, kaz tipo: "sério? e o céu tá azul?" mas secretamente feliz por sua amiga e o fantasma estarem juntos.

Fist bump

♡ Summary: Inej contemplates whether her feelings for you are reciprocated. A nearly fatal injury throws all apprehensions out the window.

♡ Pairing: Inej Ghafa x Fem!Reader, Kaz Brekker x Reader (platonic!!!)

♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): Gunshot wound, says y/n three times

♡ WC: 5.4k

Hello!!

Thank you for the request. It was nice getting to write for Inej again. While I've only written for her once before, I feel confident that I'm closer to getting her character right

Kaz is slightly ooc imo. But I feel it comes with the territory of him actually having a lifelong friend instead of being completely alone. So be prepared for that!

Hope you enjoy it regardless <3

Please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes

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"What the hell am I looking at?" You ask, frozen in place.

Kaz sighs from somewhere deep within his throat, tone riddled with annoyance. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Inej takes a moment to stare. Her mouth might be open as she squints at the scene, but that's... the least of her worries.

Jesper and Wylan were currently flirting with eachother on the ground floor of the Crow Club, not even at any specific game. Every once in a while pieces of their conversation would float to her ears, and it was just plain horrible.

It's honestly surprising. Jesper has no problem attracting anybody of any gender, but with the way he's talking to Wylan right now she finds it truly unbelievable that Jesper was able to pull anybody at all.

What's even more unbelievable was that Wylan was actually enjoying it.

Seduction tactics don't really interest Inej. But even she is able to distinguish between a good and bad pickup line.

The moment she hears something about a fruit she makes it a point to stop listening to them completely.

"Whatever it is they're talking about I don't think its wise for us to listen anymore." Inej turns away, body facing towards you.

"Agreed." You scoff, turning a little towards her too. "I'm not all that into exhibitionism."

Kaz's eyebrows raise. "Surprising."

He's mocking you, which you immediately recognize and shoot a glare at him, knocking your heel into his cane. "Budge off, limpy."

"Oh no. Not my limp. Anything but the limp."

It's really only funny because Kaz isn't bothering to fluctuate his voice at all. It's monotone, and his eyes remain half lidded and he hoists his cane up and brushes off the dirt you got on it.

Inej smiles, holding back a chuckle as she watches the crowd around her, people steering clear if only for the fact that Kaz is nearby.

"Yes, the limp. Your worst fear." You giggle when you watch his eyes roll.

Nina comes in, standing below the railing where you stand, eyes flickering between you and Kaz.

"How are the lovebirds doing?" She jests.

It sends a little pang through Inej's heart.

Your closeness with Kaz has been a topic of interest within the crows since they joined the little inner circle. And it's not all that surprising.

You have known Kaz the longest out of any of them. You were with him when he joined the Dregs, when he climbed his way up the ladder until he became floor boss and when he managed to secure fifth harbor. You even own a share in it, taking the risk and knowing full well Kaz would have gotten it up and running.

He let's you closer than anyone else, his trust intrinsic to the fact that you have been with him through thick and thin. Inej can tell something big happened an your guys' past, small looks shared here and there, pursed lips when someone mentions a niche topic.

But with the way you hang around eachother, when you sigh with a far away look and Kaz wacks your shin with his cane just gard enough that it aches, when you can have a conversation with just a glance, it's only natural that people assume.

"In his fucking dreams." You chuckle. "This lump of coal is my best friend and nothing more, we've told you this."

Nina smirks, looking between you two once more. "You tell me and yet I can sense your heart beating like crazy, my dear Y/n."

Inej watches as you prickle, flustered, but her gazing is interrupted when you turn your body completely away from her, focusing solely on Nina.

"Hearts can lie, Zenik." Inej watches as the smile falters slightly on Nina's face. "There are people who have mastered the art of lying without any spikes in heartbeat because of grisha power. Unrelated, im simply inebriated and just witnessed the most foul and frankly disgusting conversation between Jesper and Wylan."

Nina groans. "Oh don't even get me started on that. They walked right next to me and let me tell you, I learned more about Wylan than I ever needed to know."

And just like that the topic is dropped, but Inej's mind was still gripping it, trying and failing to squeeze any sort of meaning beneath your words.

Because that conversation between those two boys hadn't flustered you in the slightest. You made jokes, voice and posture lacking any semblance of embarrassment.

You like someone. If not Kaz, then someone else. Someone you know. She takes the little hope that bubbles in her heart and gently pours it into a bottle, corking it and putting it away.

Hope is dangerous. But not unnecessary.

She'll look at it later. When she has time to feel what she needs to feel.

"Well that's a delicious specimen." You purr, watching a man in a bright yellow-green suit walk into the club.

Nina looks where you do, Inej and Kaz following your gaze.

"5." Is all Nina says.

"James Denker." Kaz relays. "Dirt poor, dressed in an attempt to impress."

"Ugly suit color." It wasnt, but it clashed horribly with the reds and blacks the club adorned. He stood out like a sore thumb.

You groan. "You're all the worst."

"We're simply saving you from having the worst time of your life." Nina downs a glass being cleaned up, Rotty taking it back once it was dry. "Speaking of, I need to go find Matthias."

"To torture him?" You lean into the railing, resting your head in your open hand.

Nina hums. "Torture is not on the menu tonight."

Kaz rolls his eyes, immediately leaving to go elsewhere as Nina strolls away, off to find her burly boyfriend.

You stay planted exactly where you are, looking out at the little tide pool of people rolling dice and flipping cards.

"Everyone's so obsessed with sex today." You remark.

Inej raises a brow. "You literally just called a man a 'delicious specimen'."

You chuckle. "I wasnt actually going to do anything. I would never go for a man dressed like an unripe lemon."

She hums, coming to rest her hands on the rail next to you. Out of the corner of her eye she sees you begin to track someone, a smile pulling at your lips. She follows your gaze, and sees a women in a dark blue dress, low a-line revealing her stomach. A feather boa rests on her shoulders, a matching dark blue bandana pinning her hair back in a mass of curls.

"Men tend to have the worst fashion taste."

Inej looks at you, your face relaxed and pupils wider than she's ever seen them.

The girl comes up to the railing, looking up at you. You give her a toothy smile, allowing her to take your hand and give it a kiss.

It squashes her heart and shocks it all at once.

You're so gentle with the woman below, who introduces herself as Femke, at it pains Inej that it's not her, but also uncorks that bottle she had just put away and pours it all over her.

She feels it in her hands, the way her eyes avert as you giggle at eachother with your hand in the safety of your pocket, the way her feet want to run and jump between the highest rooftops.

Kaz was incredibly right. Hope is dangerous.

"I have to go, but it was lovely conversing with you." You say politely, giving Inej a look she knows is begging you to follow her.

She does so, taking an alternate route out of club, pulling up a mask and throwing the hood of her tunic over her head.

She heads out a side door, melding into the shadows of an alleyway as she begins to scale the side of the building, fingers still electrified. Balconies become footholds and launching points and gutters become ledges to hoist herself up.

You're a bit further behind, but not terribly. You opt for a ladder placed on the back of a building two addresses down. You hop along the top of the curved rooftops, bouncing between the dormers and sliding down gabled edges whilst Inej followed, a grin pulling her mask up until you both reach a flat roof.

The view below is rather pretty compared to the rest of the Barrel. The distance you had crossed places you closer to East Stave, the wide canal full of boats and gondolas.

Lamposts were beginning to turn on, the lamplighters going around and lighting them. People began to bunch up, drawing their coats around their shoulders.

She looks at you, then. Worn out, the thinnest sheen of sweat making you glow. She wants to know just how warm you are.

She stays where she is.

"You're rather popular tonight." Inej begins, biting the topic in the ass.

"Hm?" You ask, catching your breath. "Oh, Femke. I guess."

Inej quirks a brow. "It didnt go as planned?"

You chuckle. "You were standing right next to me, Inej." Her name sounds like sweet treats her parents used to get her coming from your lips.

"The moment felt private."

"Femke was pretty, yes. She was... fucking gorgeous." You laugh, a kind of manic one when you remember her features. "But I couldn't be with her even if I wanted to."

Your face turned a little more solemn, eyes glancing around Inej's face.

"I'm sure she would have agreed to a night together if you showed interest."

"Thats not the problem. But thanks for the vote of confidence." You turn away, hopping onto the edge of the roof, hanging your legs off the side.

She walks to the edge, prefering to stay where she could quickly flee, hands resting on the concrete. "Do you want to elaborate?"

She hopes you'll say yes. Hopes you'll let her in.

You swing your feet, lip sucked between your teeth as you tear off the skin.

"I have... a rather quiet appreciation for the attractiveness of women." You say, staring out at the open street full of people. Inej cannot help but think of how romantic this all could be, if the day had been different. The topic lighter. Your words bobble around in her mind relentlessly. "Aside from the fact that me being with someone could compromise their safety, women get enough people who will yell how pretty we are with the caveat that they'll hurt us if we take it negatively in any way. I wanted my love for women to be quieter, out of personal experience, but there all the same."

It feels like Inej's mind is playing tricks on her, some sort of intoxication manifesting in auditory hallucinations. But when you look at her out of the corner of your eye, mouth upturned so perfectly, she knows in her wildest dreams she couldn't have thought of something even half as stunning.

She looks where you were just looking, seeing parades of men with their arms slung around eachother stumbling down the road, women hooking their arms through the other and talking quietly into the others ear, families tugging their kids close and loners standing on the corners of buildings with blunts and cigars resting between their fingers.

She understands. "You've got a beautiful soul."

She'll treasure the way she could hear your shoulders relax, hand coming to rest right next to hers.

-----

"Kaz!! Kaz Kaz Kaz Kaz-"

Inej was startled from her perch in the window when your voice boomed up the stairs, door to the office flying open.

You were slightly out of breath, and your hair was a mess of strands flying in random directions, like you'd been running your fingers through it. Pulling it even.

Kaz didn't seem worried in the slightest though. In fact, she wasn't even sure he recognized you were there until he said, "What is it now, Y/n?"

"We have a problem."

"No we don't. You have a problem. I have a friend who is obsessed with making them." He looks up from his desk, not even bothering to set down the pen from his hold. "What happened?"

Your lip wobbled, and Inej was quick to tag it as fake when you threw yourself into the lonely chair that sits across from Kaz's desk, body melting into it. "There's no more Kvas."

He sighs. "Of course there isn't." His fingers find the bridge of his nose, pinching it just slightly.

"We had four bottles left yesterday." Inej notes. "Was there some sort of celebration?"

"No. All jobs that took place yesterday, while necessary, wouldn't have warranted a celebration like that. I'll order more tonight."

Immediately you brighten, face splitting open as you hop up from the chair, a giggle spilling from your lips. "Thank you Kaz!"

"What's the ocassion?" Inej asks. Her heart stutters when you turn that wide grin towards her.

"Remember that businessman Kaz had you spy on a few days ago?"

That got both her and Kaz's attention, the both of them staring at you. "I do."

"Well, I happened to run into him today and had a chat with him when I realized he was wearing a pocketwatch of the same type that my father used to wear." The mention of your family only makes Inej more interested.

You and Kaz never talk about where you came from, not unprompted anyway. The only tidbits of information that Inej has been able to scrounge up and overhear was that your family was very close friends with Kaz's, and that both of your parents, judging by how you talk about them, are either dead or too busy to bother contacting you.

"And this is meant to mean... what? Exactly?" Kaz prompts, a bit of caution dripping from his tone.

"I'm getting to it! Anyway, we had a rather long conversation about it and how useful they can be. Which of course led into talk about businesses and meetings and the such- he mentioned that there was about to be a huge rise in, like, 4 different stocks because of something going on over in Ravka. I have it written down, um, here!"

You root around your jacket, taking a card out of one of your inner pockets and handing it to Kaz. Inej stood up and walked over, taking a look at the writing.

There 5 stocks written down in your own messy scrawl, the card itself being the man's business information. One of the stocks she recognized as being really low from when Kaz talked about it the day she had to spy on him.

"I also managed to nab his wallet. You would not believe the stuff this guy keeps in here. There's a deed and tons of other interesting things." You take a wallet from your pocket, leaning forward and dangling it in front of Kaz's face.

He grabbed it from you, opening the leather receptacle.

"Aren't I just the greatest bff you could ask for?" You posed, going out of your way to exaggerate each one, sending a wink Inej's way when she eventually made eye contact with you.

"Annoying, is what you are." Kaz remarks.

You two were incredibly confusing sometimes. He treats you differently than he would everyone else. You make fun of him and tease him and get closer than anyone would dare, and he takes all of it in stride, turning your teasing right back on you, pulling you around by your waist with his cane when you particularly annoy him or when you're about to run into something.

But maybe that's just a statement of your friendship. In a way, Inej doesn't think anyone will ever be able to get so deep beneath Kaz's walls like you have. Kaz deserves to have that someone that he can just be who he is around. There's some semblance of a boy within that bloody battered exterior.

And who better to bring that out than you? The person who came here with him and who holds so much compassion that it's truly a wonder it hasn't been beaten out of you yet? You hold a certain appreciation for life that brings a balance to the apathy Kaz likes to exhibit and uplifts others.

It makes Inej remember the little moment last night. The way you looked so calm and the way the lights of the lampost made your skin glow.

You... you really like girls. And it makes Inej feel so giddy and hopeful. It translates as a smile that you return.

Kaz sighs. "Inej, I need you to return this once I look at everything."

She glares at him. "We've talked about this."

"Dearest Inej, will you please return this once I'm done?"

"Can I come?" You ask.

"Unfortunately for you, no." Kaz gives you a glance. "Youre needed with Jesper and I after I do this."

Your eyebrows snap together, mouth opening to say something before the whole expression fades into realization. "Oh yeah." You drag out the words. "For that thing near the lid."

Kaz neglects to answer, still going over everything in the wallet. He pulls out a few bills of kruge, which he immediately stows away into his shirt pocket. Everything is taken out and placed methodically around his desk, any wet papers being skillfully avoided.

"That thing is a ten thousand kruge job. So you better remember what it is."

There's a silence for a few moments, your wide eyes trailing towards Inej. She shrugs, and you cup your hand around your mouth, a stage whisper exiting your lips. "I don't remember."

Kaz drops the wallet, scratching his chair against the floor as he says "of course you don't, filthy lovebird" and walks to a drawer in a dresser, pulling out a blueprint.

'Lovebird.' Inej thinks the same time you whine out an 'I'm sorry' but Kaz ignores it, shoving the paper into your hand. You quickly unroll it as Kaz starts going over the plan once more, eyes flickering to find the starting point.

"It's simple. You will use your curse of an ability to start conversation with complete strangers and distract the guard at the west point by asking for a bathroom..."

Inej remembers this. Kaz had briefed her for it as well before realizing her presence, for once, wasn't all that necessary. You were acting strange that meeting, half of it you were off staring into space at Inej.

She remembers her collar feeling a little stiff, heat making her sweat under your gaze.

Kaz ended up sighing and knocking the metal head of his cane against your forehead, making you yelp. He had to go over the plan again, Jesper laughing at your pouted lip.

"I don't need anything else from this wallet." The conversation fades back into focus. "The kruge and the stock card are all I need. Inej." He holds out the wallet to her, which she takes and immediately pockets it.

"How long will you be gone?" She asks, eyes flickering to you.

"No more than four hours." Kaz stands and takes his cane, heading to the coat rack to collect his outer wear. He gives you a stern glare. "If everything goes according to plan."

Your eyes roll, landing on Inej. "No faith. Absolutely none."

"Faith isn't in his vocabulary."

Kaz walks out the door, leaving it wipe open.

Inej expects you to follow, to jog to the door and disappear beyond into the darkness of the staircase with nothing but a 'see ya' yelled at her.

But you turn to her instead, hand rubbing over your stomach as if to quiet it. You wet your lips, her eyes following the movement. She stands a little straighter when you approach.

"No mourners, yeah?" You extend your fist.

Inej smiles, heart beating faster as she tentatively bumps her knuckles into yours. "Yeah. No funerals."

With a nod, you chuckle and leave, leaving Inej alone with her thoughts and a cold wallet pressed into her tunic.

You'll be fine. Jobs like these were routine, and Kaz and Jesper were two people she'd trust with your life any day.

But that doesn't stop the anxiety from bubbling in her gut, acid gnawing at the walls as she leaps out the window.

The chance for something to go wrong is never zero.

-----

They should be, though.

A loud, booming "Move" startles everyone away from the door. People dive out of the way, a cane flashing by their faces as Jesper carries a body down to the makeshift hospital beneath the Slat.

Inejs heart sinks, Nina rushing in after them.

There's only one person that could be.

She hops down the stairs, weaving through people like a needle and thread and swinging the door open with such a force that it bounces off the wall and squeals shut behind her.

"Guys please it's not that ba- OW!"

"You don't get to say it's not that bad when you lost nearly a quart of blood." Jesper hisses, grabbing at his head.

"What happened?" Inej demands, a rumbling in her chest as she does so.

Kaz nearly threw his cane down, chunks of his composure swiftly falling away. "Plan A failed, we had to resort to Plan J."

Inej wants to tug out her braid, to tug his hair out, "Which was?"

"Fucking book it." Jesper slumps into a chair. "Which we did, but one of them got lucky and hit her in quite possibly one of the worst places you can get hit."

Inej starts going through a catalogue of major arteries, sick intrusive images of your neck blown open and chest reduced to a gaping hole shoving their way into her mind.

But that's not the case. You were talking, sitting upright, protesting.

Now you're laid down, your nails carving crescent moons into your forehead as you shove the heel of your palms into your eyes, teeth gritting.

Nina's using her heartrending to look over your hip and thigh area, and Inej realizes the predicament that the novice healer has to deal with.

There's an artery that runs through the inner thigh. If it's hit, it's almost just as deadly as the side of your neck being slit open. The bullet managed to hit within that area, and a tightly bound blood-soaked piece of fabric was keeping pressure on the wound. Probably the only thing keeping you from bleeding out.

"It's been nicked. But the bullet seems to still be in you. I'll have to do my best to heal it while also trying to direct it out of your body." Nina doesn't even give you a moment to process it, immediately loosening the fabric.

Blood begins to gush from your wound, and Inej wants to scream.

Jesper follows your lead and digs his palms into his eyes. Kaz stands a good few feet from the table, watching the whole thing unfold. And Inej is...

She walks up to the side of the table, reaching out and brushing her finger through your hair.

"It'll be done soon, yeah?" She asks thought not really expecting an answer, watching your temple flex and your skin turn red as you held your breath. A rough scream escapes your lungs when you open your throat, gulping in as much air as possible before you go back under.

A small tink sounds against the table, bullet out. But Nina is sweating, glowing under candle light as she stitches everything she can back together.

"The bullets out. The only thing you have to do is wait for Nina to be done putting you together again and then you'll be done."

Healing, while ever so helpful, was far from painless. You're speeding up your body's natural process, your skin, muscles, veins being stitched back together on a cellular level.

A highly trained grisha healer could probably numb you while doing so. But Nina is not that.

Inej wants to be mad at her for being so inept when it comes to this. For not having the ability to just repair you with practiced ease and get this over with.

But she can't. She can't be mad at Nina for being who she is.

Instead she's grateful that Nina is here at all. Otherwise you'd be-

Saints, she doesn't want to think about it.

"What went wrong?" Inej asks, taking your hands away from your eyes when beads of blood build on your forehead. "This was supposed to be simple."

You grip her hands tightly. She squeezes them right back, hoping she's providing some sort of relief as she prays for your life.

"Simple doesn't cut it when your intel becomes outdated." Kaz snarled. "They changed the guard postings on the inside. We got found out shortly after retrieving this."

He pulls out a rolled up painting from a tube slung over a chair. It's a landscape of what looks to be from Fjerdan territory looking beyond towards Ravka. The Shadow Fold is missing, and in the distance she can see the artist took some creative liberties and drew the Ravkan palace.

"Supposed to be worth over ten times what we were getting paid for." Jesper uncovers his eyes, opting to cover his mouth and nose. "Doesnt really seem worth it for this."

He glances at Kaz, but Kaz looks at her, and in those dark brown eyes she feels like they come to an understanding. Kaz knows things that Inej hasnt bothered to voice to him outloud. He knows how she feels about you, and is probably just about the only person that on some level could come close to feeling the way she does now.

You're way too important to lose.

Nina let's out a deep breath, hands becoming slower and less steady. "I've got this mostly patched up, but for now the artery is pretty weak. I've got most of the muscles around it to heal to protect what it can but rest and the least amount of movement as possible while I monitor this for the next few days is whats needed."

Inej feels you relax, hands no longer squeezing the life out of her own. Your elbows knock against the table, foot wiggling on your injured leg.

You swallow. "Okay."

Inej has never heard you sound so small, which is surprising.

This isn't your first time getting injured like this, though it has been a long time. But even now she can remember you fighting them every step of the way when you were asked to rest.

Now you're more compliant than ever. You're not even making a move to sit up.

Kaz clears his throat. "Jesper, Nina, out."

Inej can hear Jesper get up from the chair, all too ready to get away from the situation. Nina, however, is less ready to vacate your side.

"I want to check over the rest of her for any other injuries you may have missed in your getaway plan." She places her hands over your head, slowly moving down your body.

"There are no other injuries. It was just the bullet. Out."

Jesper is already up the stairs, probably to find Wylan. She knows he'll come back later, once he's calmed down and can properly look you in the eye after being faced with your mortality. Nina gets down to your feet, and sighs.

"Just wanted to make sure your girlfriend-"

At the same time, you and Kaz state that you're not together. Your voice is a lot sharper than Kaz's, which is enough for Nina to whip around and give you a look.

You're sat up now, propped up on your elbows as you glare at her.

"I would really appreciate it if you stopped pushing us together, thanks."

Your hand squeezes Inej's, and it's like her heart gets zapped with a little lightning.

Nina eyes you for a moment, expression a little hurt but otherwise reserved as she searches for something.

When she looks at Inej, it seems she found it.

Her eyebrows shoot up, and her mouth falls into a little 'o' as she backs up. "How could I have missed that?"

Before Inej can silently ask what that means, she's smirking and basically running up the stairs.

Kaz collects his things, then gives Inej and you a nod before following.

The door above clicks shut, and a bound of wild creaking from above tells her that a few people were crowding around the door and waiting for news.

You squeeze her hand again, and Inejs attention is all on you.

"How bad is it?" You ask.

Inej swallows, then looks down. There's a mess of reds and purple around where the wound is. It's smaller than before, skin a little malformed where Nina put everything back together.

"It looks like you got shot."

You chuckle, moving to sit up completely. Inej helps you were she's needed, letting you use her to pull yourself up and position yourself without using your leg.

Silence followed. Your hand was still holding Inej's, your thumb going over rough spots on her palms. Your finger would stop, finding a spot that was particularly rough, and then smooth over it as if you could make it disappear.

"Thank you."

Her brows scrunch. "For what?"

"For staying."

"Of course."

You take a deep breath, exhale coming out shaky. Before Inej can ask what was the matter, you begin talking.

"I like you." You say. "I like you a lot, and I have for a while. Long enough that I can't be in a room alone without automatically looking for even though I know you won't be there. Enough that about half the time when I feel like you're watching me I'm right, and I can pick you out from the crowd."

Inej is smiling. She can feel it on her face, eyes pricking and ears ringing just a bit.

"Kaz has gotten so sick of me talking about you to the point he actually has resorted to knocking his cane against me when I sigh too loudly or when your name comes out of my mouth for the tenth time in a minute." A chuckle comes out of your mouth when you go to rub at a bruise on your shin. "He doesnt mean to be harsh but I think he forgets how solid his cane is sometimes."

She's laughs, the same as you do when she pulls your hand towards her and presses it against her chest, heart saying everything and more.

But words matter too.

"I like you too. For what sounds like just as long as you have. Believe me if I had known you liked girls I wouldn't have let you torture Kaz for as long as you did."

"What do you say? Girlfriends?" You let go of her hand and hold out your fist.

She bumps her fist against yours. "Girlfriends."

She loves the way your eyes brighten.

However, she does not love that the door to the room comes open again.

The distinct sound of metal on wood tells the both of you immediately who it is. While Inej's annoyance only slightly decreases, yours disappears immediately.

"Kaz!"

"Y/n."

"Look!" You gently offer your hand, and Inej slips her fingers between yours, interlocking them. "We're dating. Inej likes me back."

He rounds the corner, looking at the both of your hands. He puts up his shoulders, raising an eyebrows.

"And im actively disabled. Dont waste my time with the obvious."

You chuckle. "Thanks, Kaz."

While Kaz mulls over whether it's worth it to stay down here, Inej helps you off the table, easing your leg down to the ground where it remains limp.

"Oh my saints, twinsies."

Inej looks between you and Kaz. Your limp leg is the same as his.

"If I ever hear you say twinsies again, you will lose me as your friend."

"Impossible."

Kaz takes that as a challenge, and moves up the stairs faster than she has ever seen him go.

As you call out to him to get his ass back here, Inej takes a moment to think about how perfect everything is.

Your leg may be out of commission, but you're happier than she has ever seen you before. You asked her to be your girlfriend, and still you're gentle and wait for permission. She's giggling as you do when you trip a little and catch yourself on the step.

She's so incredibly happy to be where she is today. And even more excited to figure out where the both of you will go from here.

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

Tags:

@xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @kylie18 @morrigan-crowmwell @venomsvl @milkshake0

#ask #inej ghafa x y/n #inej ghafa x reader #inej ghafa x you #inej ghafa imagine #inej ghafa fanfiction #six of crows fanfic #six of crows x reader #six of crows x y/n #six of crows x you #grishaverse x you #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse x y/n #fanfic #morrigan-crowmwell

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Unbound | Chapter 18, "Bard Dance" (End of Act 1)

Áine Ts'sambra—a wayward half-drow bard with a painful past—has her world upended when she's snatched up by a Nautiloid ship and furnished with a tadpole to the brain. In her journey to remove the infestation before it can turn her and her newfound companions illithid, she not only finds that their solution has more layers to parse through than she can count, but that a particular vampire in her party does as well.

Unbound is an ongoing generally SFW medium-burn romance based in the world of Baldur's Gate 3 between Astarion and a female OC. Any NSFW content will be marked in the Warnings section. Contains angst, fluff, explorations of trauma, spice, graphic fantasy violence, and a guaranteed happy ending.

For anything additional on what to expect (and not expect), check the preface post.

Summary: Before bringing Nere’s head to Spaw and leaving the Underdark, Áine, Astarion, and the party take an evening just to have a bit of fun. Astarion actively tries to be romantic. The private gesture gets blown into a party of sorts by the couple’s heavily imbibed friend group. Astarion and Áine end up having an even more private moment together. The group readies themselves the next morning to continue their journey down the path to Moonrise Towers. 

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!OC

Warnings: 18+/NSFW (cunnilingus); fluff of the romantic and platonic varieties; alcohol; angst; bit o’ smut as a treat; blood-drinking if you squint; end of Act 1, hiatus to follow; this is extra cute to make up for the trauma of the last chapter and many of the ones to follow lmao; lightly proofread

Word Count: 8.5k

Listening to: Six Days at the Bottom of the Ocean - Explosions in the Sky, Bard Dance (from the BG3 soundtrack), I Want to Live (from the BG3 soundtrack)

Shadowheart’s shriek reverberated off the jagged cave walls around them. Its echo flung far beyond its origin.

“Áine, it’s freezing!” the cleric griped, waist-deep and shuddering in the dark water just off their campsite’s shore. Their commandeered boat bobbed at the dock nearby and a conjured netting laced with golden light roped off an area for them, stopping where the water became a bit too deep for an impromptu swimming lesson.

“Correct, so hurry up!” Áine cackled through chattering teeth, looking positively mad as she chafed her arm with one hand and held out her other. She’d plunged in completely straight away to try and acclimate to the water faster, but she wasn’t sure yet if that’d been her best bet. “Just like I showed you, you’ll be okay.”

“Why couldn’t we have done this when we were topside?” Shadowheart growled as she lowered herself further into the water, shuddering visibly as she mimicked the motions Áine had shown her and started to wade out to the waiting bard. 

“Because at our only notable opportunity, you decided you’d rather try making out with me,” Áine remarked, dodging an armful of water that her friend flung at her for her cheek. “Hey, look at you! Only one arm left paddling and you didn’t sink!”

“Is that meant to be funny?” Shadowheart asked, her voice strained as she worked to keep her head above the water.

“Yes and no,” Áine said, smiling as she scooped Shadowheart up under her arms when the cleric managed to swim her way out to her. “I mean it when I say you’re getting the hang of this, you adjusted really well when you moved your arm to splash me.”

Shadowheart let Áine swim both of them back to the shore, her arms and legs wrapped around her friend like a toddler on her hip. She was gratified by the praise, but too cold to relish it. “You’re not going to make me do it again, are you?” she asked.

“No, we’re both goners if we stay out here any longer,” Áine said, shivering as she walked them back up the shoreline. “But I did want you to at least know the basics. Just in case.”

“I think I’m already a goner,” Shadowheart complained, her teeth chattering as she buried her face against Áine’s shoulder, desperate for warmth and only finding the bard’s wet shirt.

“I’ll save you!” Áine cried, sprinting back to the campfire while she and Shadowheart rattled out giggles between their violent shudders. 

Gale was in his usual spot stooped over the cooking pot when the girls came tearing back up from the beach. “Mystra’s left nostril,” he swore with a chuckle as he braced for potential impact and any scattered showers that rained off them in passing. 

Áine dodged past Gale, plopped Shadowheart down near Wyll, and seated herself next to Astarion, who gave her half-drowned form a horrified look. “You went in with all your clothes on?!”

“Look, it wasn’t our best plan, alright?” Áine griped back, getting as close to the fire as she could without setting herself ablaze. 

Her heart warmed when she spotted Wyll snagging a blanket and draping it over Shadowheart’s vibrating shoulders from the corner of her eye. She’d seen them occasionally making eyes at each other over the past few days on their journey back to the circle and then to collect the enslaved gnomes and Nere’s head at the Grymforge. Being the romantic that Wyll was, he’d perfectly picked up on every opportunity she granted him to make a bit of a blush rise to Shadowheart’s face.

Meanwhile, her own lover—keeper of her soul, love of her life, et cetera—was cringing away from her dripping clothes and hair with something close to disdain. Áine gave him a withering look as Shadowheart thanked Wyll for his show of chivalrous care nearby. “See that? That’s the correct response,” she needled Astarion, mostly teasing him. 

His eyes flickered past her to Wyll and Shadowheart. Astarion scoffed when he returned his eyes to her. “It’s not my fault you chose to give yourself hypothermia, darling,” he teased her back, his lips curling in a half-sneer.

Áine sniffed and glared, and Astarion only just had time to clock the calculation that flashed through her eyes before she pivoted and tackled him back into the dirt. Although she was attacking him, Astarion still managed to make sure she landed on top of him and didn’t hurt herself. He knew she was sturdier than he treated her, but he was protective of her to a fault and he’d not yet fully shaken the scare that had been their near-death at the spectator’s teeth and tentacles mere days ago at that point.

When she raised herself off him, her eyes dropped to the wet spot she’d left on his shirt, which had been her original goal for retaliation. What she hadn’t expected was for the moisture to soak from her shirt to his in an exact imprint of her breasts and stomach. Her features pulled tight as she fought off laughter, especially when Astarion looked down at himself and saw why she was suddenly so amused. 

“Are you quite pleased with yourself?” Astarion scolded her, causing her to finally break apart into her hardly restrained fit of laughter. He tickled her sides until she fell off him, rolling to loom over her on the ground as he continued to playfully berate her for getting him all wet too.

Behind him, their friends’ eyes softened at the sight of them teasing each other and at how absent Astarion’s mask had been of late. Even just around them, he was finally starting to become more transparent in his opinions and feelings, little did he know. With a fond smirk, Gale loosed a rush of air from his palm that swept the clinging moisture from Shadowheart’s, Astarion’s, and Áine’s clothes. “Soup’s on!” he announced.

The news of supper brought their remaining companions to the fire and Astarion allowed Áine up after dropping a kiss to the tip of her nose. They reclaimed their seats beside the crackling blaze, assuming their newly practiced dinnertime juxtaposition while the broth and bread were parsed out. 

There was next to nothing to hunt in the Underdark for Astarion and they expected it to be a similar situation when they passed into the shadow-cursed lands past the lift in the Grymforge. Because of that, Áine had been assisting their resident vampire more and more with his thirst and had even coaxed him out to “dine” with the larger group in recent evenings. 

While Áine sat facing the fire, Astarion sat beside her but faced away from the flames, gratefully accepting her wrist when she offered it to him. There were times that he still preferred to make this trade snuggled up with her in his—their—tent, but there was also something strangely affirming about being able to join everyone for their dinnertime. He still occasionally felt anxious about it, but turning away for a bit of privacy helped. They all knew of his condition, but he was still wary of glancing up from his feeding and finding a horrified expression staring back at him.

Astarion licked her wound closed when he was done, gently squeezing her hand while he still held it in his. Áine extracted her hand just to gently press it against his cheek, drawing him sideways to tenderly kiss his hair. With Astarion taken care of, Áine began to assuage her own hunger with the soup and bread that Halsin had set down for her while she was tending to their vampire. 

Astarion felt his new store of blood rush into his cheeks at the gesture, suddenly glad yet again that he wasn’t facing their companions. It felt so natural that, weeks back, he may have feared its ease. Now though he simply relished it. In a similar vein, he wouldn’t admit it, but there was more than a simple affirmation that came from feeling included here—fleetingly, he dared to wonder if this was what family had felt like once.

A sweeping, alien melody wove through the air above them, the faint shimmer of spores glittering when the embers caught them just so. “The gnomes must have made it back to the circle,” Áine inferred, smiling a little at the resonant expressions of joy and victory interspersed between the flowing melodies. “Spaw must’ve been told that Nere’s no more.”

“It’s strange how much can be understood from…well, could we even call it a language really?” Wyll wondered aloud, studying the clusters of spores as he bit into his bread.

“Music is its own language,” Áine insisted, mesmerized by the sounds. She felt Astarion turn back around beside her to face the fire again. “Some songs are just easier for us to understand.”

“It’s odd,” Shadowheart mused, snaring Áine’s gaze meaningfully. With the intensity of her stare, Áine half-expected the cleric to bring up something more dire, but she simply continued to speak on their surroundings. “Despite the allure of its dark beauty, I’d never ventured into the Underdark before. But it’s truly beautiful in so many unexpected ways.”

“I’ve been down here a handful of times, but never at length,” Áine admitted, faltering when she felt a prod at her tadpole. Unsure how exactly she knew, it felt, somehow, like it had come from Shadowheart’s. 

Bewildered, Áine opened her mind and heard the cleric’s voice speak within her head. “Keep talking,” she instructed. “Just trust me.” 

Áine cleared her throat and added almost mindlessly, “And mostly for supplies or to skim off the Zhentarim’s stashes. I really had no idea how far it expanded though and, as you’ve said, how lovely it can look.”

Gale thankfully picked up the conversation and allowed Áine to wonder at what Shadowheart was doing, sitting in her head like this between their parasites. She didn’t have long to wonder as a vision bloomed in her mind’s eye. Shadowheart’s vantage point became hers and through it, she saw…

Áine’s heart threatened to break under the heft of the emotions that flooded it. 

Shadowheart kept her eyes trained on Áine and Astarion and, through her eyes, Áine saw herself glancing between Gale and Shadowheart while Astarion just looked at her. 

His crimson eyes rounded with a gentle openness that had become more and more prominent in their time together, a far cry from the narrow, choreographed sneers he used to default to, which were different than his actual sneers (which, to be fair, she did still see a fair bit of). A faint, lingering ghost of a smile touched his perfectly bowed lips as he just watched her in what she could only define as fascination. She’d seen him look at her like that before, much more briefly, but it was something else to see them through someone else’s eyes when his guard was fully down.

“I told you,” Shadowheart informed her smugly. 

Áine felt herself blush and then saw herself blush through the cleric’s shared gaze. “Thank you for that,” she told Shadowheart. “I’ll stop my spying though.”

“Understood,” Shadowheart replied and Áine heard the echo of a soft internalized chuckle in her head before the cleric fully withdrew and her mind was her own again.

She glanced over to Astarion, catching him in his doe-eyed stare and smiling toward him. He seemed unsure of how he felt about being caught, but his expression only incrementally changed as he traced the flush of her cheeks with his vibrant eyes. “You’re blushing,” he pointed out, a faint smirk curling the corner of his mouth. 

Áine smiled, gently cupping his cheek. “And you’re lovely.” Astarion’s face warmed under her hand and she laughed. “Shall I point out that you’re blushing now too, or—?”

“Hush,” he chided her, glancing away to hide the flush of his face against one of his large, dextrous hands. Astarion chanced a glance back at her when she didn’t look away, finding her watching him with a mix of amusement and, if he was bold enough to presume it, love. His chest warmed over and he sighed, turning to meet her stare. “You, my dear, will be the second death of me.”

Áine’s smile turned a touch guilty. “Sorry.”

A soft puff of an exhalation exited Astarion’s nose, the barest beginning of a chuckle. “Don’t be.”

At some point in the night, someone broke into the wine stashes. A drink with the evening meal wasn’t unusual in the group, at least for the majority of their party, but there was a different sort of tension in the air that night. A tension of celebrating well-earned victories, of their looming progression into a new leg of their journey and likely the most dangerous yet, and the acknowledgment that, as ever, nothing was promised.

Karlach’s boisterous laugh ricocheted off the dark cavern walls, a bottle of ithbank clutched in her hand just long enough to take another swig and set it back down before her heat began to melt the glass. Áine laughed softly in turn, her head pleasantly swimmy while she let the cross-talk of several quiet camp conversations swirl around her like the most comfortable background noise. This was her new family and it truly felt like a family. Her only hope was that this sense would last through their journey into the cursed expanse of her birthplace, but she tried not to think about it. If she did, she’d spoil this taste of peace, herself.

Áine tilted her head back as Astarion approached, giving her a humored look after evaluating the half-empty bottle of mermaid whiskey near her hip. She gave him a playful gasp and mused aloud, “Look, the stars are out again!”

Astarion rolled his eyes and bent down to scoop her to her feet, eying her as she swayed a bit. “Are you stable?” he asked, holding back a laugh.

“Physically or mentally?” she asked, forcing a serious expression on her features that only half-succeeded. “Or emotionally?” Before he could answer, she gave a little flip of her hands. “No matter what you pick, the answer is ‘probably’?”

Astarion snorted. “Good enough for me,” he remarked, taking her hand. “Come.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, gently playing with his fingers while they walked. He led her down to the lakeshore, the prints she’d left earlier from running back to the fire with Shadowheart still faintly depressed in the wet sand.

Away from the light pollution of the fire, the Underdark’s makeshift sky blossomed with sprinkled light and color. The bioluminescent spores had swirled so voluminously from the circle just up the hill that they’d drifted down to their campsite, their gentle sweeping songs still lacing the air with palpable sensations of triumph. The spores in all their glowing glory patched a living starscape above them, the myconids’ singing in perfect syncopation with the flux of the motes that carried them.

Áine sighed, her heart clenching. “It’s so beautiful,” she said, still toying with Astarion’s fingers as they took in the view together. The black water lapped placidly against the sand nearby while the laughter and merriment of their friends still met their ears, just sweetly dampened by the rocky ledge separating the couple from them now.

“It is striking,” Astarion agreed, his eyes tracing past the dancing motes to the rocky ceiling above. “But it’s no replacement for real stars. For the moon. The sunlight.”

Áine glanced up at him. “What was it like?” she asked, holding his gaze when he looked down at her. “To feel the sun again for the first time in over 200 years and not burn?”

Astarion’s gaze unfocused as he remembered. “Terrifying. And then…exhilarating.” He sighed, his grip around her hand tightening with his impassioned tone. “The first instinct was to flee. Then the realization came that it would’ve been too late by that point—if I were going to burn, I would be burning. And then of course I wondered if I had died. Again. And then I just felt warm.”

Áine’s heart fluttered at the memory he painted, at how she imagined his cool skin would have felt being kissed by the sun again after so long. That flutter became a sting as it occurred to her that his previous sources of warmth in his new life would have all come at a cost—his only warm blood from rancid rats half-dead with disease, his only comfort from the tattered brown blanket he still had with him to this day or against a body he hadn’t chosen for himself. 

She’d not known for the majority of her lifetime to crave sunlight and the underelf blood in her had shied from it, but ever since she’d escaped her old life, it had been a daily blessing to feel its rays. She’d been ungrateful, all things considered. Privileged. She’d never considered before meeting him how lucky she was to simply be allowed to exist in the daytime.

“You must miss it,” she suggested with open sympathy. 

“I do,” he said. “This place is filled with color and its own sort of light, but it’s not quite the same. I’d just gotten the daylit world above us back, had just remembered for the first time in so, so long how much color there is in the world, and it’s gone again. For a while at least.”

“I used to be skeptical of your interest in keeping the parasite,” Áine said, which was no revelation to either of them. Her skepticism had never been hidden in their conversations. “I still am, but only because I worry about you. But I understand why you’d want to hold onto what it gives you.”

Astarion nodded. “It has protected me from the sun, from rushing water, from Cazador’s clutches, from everything the way nothing else ever has,” he agreed. The line of his mouth formed a more bitter curve. “The way no one else ever tried.”

Áine turned to face him, slipping her other hand into his as well. “I wish someone had. I would do…anything to be able to have helped you.”

Her conviction clawed at him. “You hardly existed for the majority of it, darling,” he reminded her.

“I know,” she said, her shoulders giving a helpless lift. “But I can’t help but feel let down on your behalf. The strong have a duty to protect those in need.”

“I thought it was ‘to protect the weak’?” he countered.

“It’s too much of a generalization,” she said, frowning. “There is no weakness in needing help. The strongest people are born from positions of weakness.”

“Perhaps that’s why they’re left to rot,” Astarion mused. “The ‘strong’ of society has never been made up of true advocates. They retain their position for themselves. This is the way the world turns.”

The bard sighed. “You aren’t wrong. I know you’re not wrong because I’ve seen it firsthand, too. But I wish you were. I hope someday the world changes enough that you are.”

Astarion scoffed, but it was softened by a faint smile. Despite the fractured state of his lover’s rose-colored glasses, she still managed to look through the pink-tinted shards when she gazed upon a world he saw as forsaken. He shouldn’t have been so discouraging of it, he supposed. She may not have given him the time of day had she not maintained so much quiet hope in other people. Still, when he watched her extend that goodwill to others that he wasn’t so sure would return it, it made him uneasy.

Disliking the somber air that had fallen over their heads, especially considering why he’d guided her out there in the first place, Astarion freed one of Áine’s hands, using the other to swing her into a little spin. The tipsy bard stumbled a little over the sudden movement but righted herself easily enough and regarded him with curiosity when he drew her close and placed his hand against her waist. 

“Look, I don’t profess to be any sort of twinkle-toes like our Wyll,” he said as he guided her through some slowed-down dance steps. “However what sort of former society elite would I be if I didn’t at least know my way around a simple waltz?”

Áine grinned, looping her free arm around his shoulders and happily leaning into his lead. “I had no idea,” she said, her cheeks flushed a decadent red.

“Nor I, to be honest,” Astarion admitted as he spun her again, smiling as she gracefully followed his hand and returned to him in one fluid motion. “Not until I specifically tried to evoke the muscle memory.”

“What inspired that?” she asked.

Astarion shrugged and simply replied, “You told me you enjoy dancing,” as if it were all the reason he needed. Maybe it was.

Áine’s heart melted and it translated to her expression. It stirred that familiar warmth in Astarion’s chest, but he didn’t shy away from it. He just continued to lead her through their dance on the lakeshore, twirling her this way and that and humoring her by letting her spin him on occasion, too. She hummed them a soft melody to dance to and they swore the myconids’ melodies around them shifted to follow her song, their disembodied singing taking a slower, romantic tone.

And leave it to their drunk friends to, as Astarion at least first thought, ruin it.

“Well, isn’t this adorable,” Shadowheart mused as she and the others filed around the corner, clearly having a little spy on the couple until they’d been spotted by the vampire. “Volo, why don’t you give them some music?” She hiccuped partway through her question.

“If it wasn’t abundantly clear from my, er, performance at that goblin hovel, I am no bard,” Volo insisted to the heavily imbibed cleric. “However, that’s never stopped me before.” From the self-proclaimed expert-on-everything’s extended hand rose a transparent blue replica of that same hand, the apparition then parting into two while a similarly ghostly violin settled in its hold.

“Room for an ensemble?” Gale wondered as he, with admittedly more finesse, also conjured a pair of mage hands, his positioning a flute between their magical fingers.

“Can’t let us have one moment, can you?” Astarion groused as Áine giggled and the phantasmic floating appendages with their instruments began to sync into a rendition of the classic “Bard Dance” song. 

Instead of shying from Astarion’s theatrical upset, the conjured ensemble and their beloved party swept into the heart of the song. Karlach shuffled her feet, kicking up small clouds of sand as she danced on her own, at least until Wyll stepped in line with her and followed her often idly improvised steps after a bit of quick study. With a fond look from the sidelines, Halsin stood with Lae’zel and clapped in time with the melody. Even the githyanki beside him seemed to relax enough to enjoy the admittedly absurd scene before her. Scratch and the owlbear cub ran circles around Karlach’s dancing feet and Wyll left the tiefling with her new partners to snag Shadowheart and tug her away from her perch for a dance.

“Wyll!” the cleric cried, laughing as she half-struggled to twist away from the sudden spotlight. Astarion was gearing up to mock her when he felt similarly swept up in a more upbeat dance.

“This is not what I had in mind,” Astarion groused with less fervor down at his little bard, who was now leading him into step with the new tempo and with the silliest grin plastered across her whiskey-flushed face. “Unhand me!” he haughtily demanded, but the joking demand crumbled with a laugh.

As the myconids’ songs intertwined with their merriments and laughter, harmonizing with the conjured melody with renewed felicity, the two resident ancients stood watch, observing the beings on the beach that, compared to them, were all infants in this corporeal plane. It was a rare moment of unbridled happiness and fun before them, made only more rare to the knight and the aged god who both knew to some degree what was to come. 

“They shall remember this,” Withers murmured to the ghostly knight nearby. “Thine fates have formed nigh impossible junctures, a tangled web extending ever further into darkness.”

“Aye,” the knight rumbled, his arms crossed before him with his palms stacked atop the hilt of his blade. Incandescent eyes watched the smiles that blossomed from each strange being down on the sand, watching the half-drow bard prancing her vampire partner around in time to the bouncy music. She threw her head back and laughed at something he said and he smiled down at her as if she were the very sun he missed so much—positively enraptured and basking in her warmth. “Isn’t it all the more prudent then that they have this? The darkness will wait.”

Withers gave a grumble of acknowledgment. “And wait, it shall.”

No one noticed the line that was crossed that turned the energetic, musically drunken “night” in the Underdark into a messy, sleepy drunken “night.” It was a line that was always crossed in these sorts of scenarios, but sometimes there was at least one person able to pinpoint which goblet was the “one goblet too many.” 

Perhaps Astarion, the only sober individual left down on the lakeshore by that point, may have been able to had he not gotten wrapped up in Áine’s charms and opted not to leave for the remainder of the night. Carefully sidestepping over a prone and passed-out Karlach and then past Wyll, who’d dozed off slumped against a rock, Áine was having to keep a hand pressed to her mouth to stifle her giggles at the state of their friends. 

Astarion relieved her of that duty when they made it back up the short path to camp, capturing her lips and kissing her through her tipsy laughter, smirking as he felt her become far more interested in kissing him back than paying attention to where she was going. After the second time she stumbled over her own feet, Astarion scooped her off of them to carry her the rest of the way to their tent. Her legs wrapping around his waist to hold on drew a quiet growl from the base of his throat. 

As his kisses grew hungrier, his tongue parted her plush lips and explored her yielding mouth in tender, languid strokes. He felt heat lance through him at the muffled sound and sensation of her moan, but he was wary of that heat, too. As he ducked through their tent door and took them both down to the floor, seated while keeping her straddling his lap, Astarion tried to put his feelings into context, finding it more difficult when Áine was giggly and encouraging and strewn across his thighs.

Bleeding Hells, he wanted to fuck her but was wary of what they’d discussed. The sensation he felt at times of “going through the motions” would often come partway through when he couldn’t find it in himself to, as he saw it, ruin the mood by stopping. He’d withdraw within himself, present but not, until it was over. He wouldn’t jeopardize the high of euphoria he was feeling just from kissing her by being thoughtless about this.

Unhelpfully, Áine smirked into their kiss and purposely cut her lower lip against one of his fangs, raising herself up and pressing herself against him as she tilted his head back and kissed him hard enough for those small beads of blood to trickle into his mouth. Astarion growled again, equal parts feral in lust and exasperated by trying to be the adult in the room. In retaliation, he clapped a hand against her ass just hard enough to startle her. The muffled yelp that passed from her lips past his made him chuckle.

One step at a time, he decided, sucking the cut on her lip until it was bruised and then sealing it with a purposeful flick of his tongue. 

Astarion gripped Áine’s hips and shifted her off his lap and onto her bedroll, snorting softly at the pout she gave him. “None of that, darling,” he rasped.

Áine smiled cheekily and nodded. “No, no, I get it. Sorry, I just—Astarion!”

“Hm, yes?” he murmured, already half-done with untying her shirt laces, nimble fingers flying down the fabric collar.

“What are you doing?” Áine asked, suddenly breathless. She looked up at him with a mix of curiosity, concern, and arousal. He could smell that she was already wet for him, that familiar, decadent perfume always doing the most dangerously delicious things to his mind. One step at a time, he repeated fervently, his hands fisting a little harder than necessary in Áine’s shirt as he freed her from it.

“Is this okay?” Astarion asked, practiced hands tracing down to the ties of her pants next.

“Well, yes, but—” She gave a surprised grunt when he managed to untie her trousers and pull them off her in a few small, simple movements. “But what about you? Are you okay?”

Astarion, still fully clothed and intending to stay that way, traced her form with his eyes, pupils blown out with his craving and shadowing the crimson hue of his gaze. He leaned forward, crawling just a little closer to her as he murmured, “I’m very okay with this, my love.”

For just a second, Áine wondered if he’d just forgotten to take off his clothes. She only had a second to wonder before he smirked down at her, wrapped his large hands around her calves, and tugged her forward so she fell onto her back into the pillows.

Suddenly self-aware at how exposed she was in this new vulnerable position, Áine knocked her knees together, her face burning up. Astarion gave her a chiding glance, his fingertips tracing up her shins to those offending knees, tracing the caps. “I, um…,” Áine stammered, not sure what to say. Whatever this was was certainly new to her and desire fanned the growing flames in her belly, but she still worried. “Are you… You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, you know.”

Astarion’s smirk grew wider and his restless fingertips pried her knees apart. “I know, darling,” he husked, bowing lower as he slipped her legs over his shoulders. “Anything else?”

His last question had sent his cool breath fanning across her core and it shot a shiver up her spine. “Um,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she sent an embarrassed glance to the tent ceiling, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Finally, she let out a nervous giggle and surrendered. “I-I guess not—oh!”

He’d wasted no time the moment she handed him her remaining control. He was on her like a man starving, his hands digging into her hips to hold her in place as he devoured her. Astarion had never been more present during an act of carnal intimacy, learning his way along her glistening folds by chasing every whimper and moan that he helped ease from her lips. 

Astarion had pulled her closer to him, adjusting the angle of her hips as he swirled his tongue against her swollen clit, when he heard her clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her building moans. He made a disgruntled sound against her, pulling his mouth off her bud with a purposefully lewd suck to tease her as he reached up for her wrist. “Ah-ah, darling,” he tutted up at her, brushing the bridge of his nose over her mound and eliciting a small spasm that rocked through her legs. Astarion smirked, pleased at the effect he had on her. “I want to hear you.”

“But our friends,” she whined, casting a furtive glance toward the tent door. “What if—”

“Our friends know enough to excuse some noise every so often,” he chuckled, laving a slow line up her slit and flicking his eyes up toward her face. He felt blessed to meet her eyes as he did and more blessed to see how flustered watching him go down on her made her. “The ones who aren’t blacked out for the eve will be reassured that I take good care of you, won’t they?”

Áine could feel her pulse hammering in her neck, truly speechless for perhaps the first time in her entire life. Gods above, he was going to ruin her like he’d accused her of ruining him. She was already practically shaking. If she didn’t try to stifle the moans he was pulling out of her, she’d wake the entire Underdark! Just the thought was enough to make her panic a little. “But I—”

“Won’t they?” he repeated in a firmer tone that still came out almost like a purr.

“I—,” Áine started, slowly letting her head fall back into place against the pillows. “Um…yes?”

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, rewarding her with another swirl of his tongue against her clit. He felt her thighs tighten against his head the slightest bit and chuckled softly. “That do something for you, darling?”

“Apparently?!” she squeaked, learning more about herself tonight than she was learning about him.

Astarion couldn’t help the laugh that trickled past his lips, moving the hand he still had snared in his to cover one of her breasts. “Busy those hands somewhere other than your mouth, sweetheart,” he mumbled before returning his focus between her legs. 

Áine looked down at where he’d left her to cup her own breast, at first thinking it a little unorthodox but trusting his lead. She’d played with herself a little in the past, but given her minimal interest in sex before catching feelings for him, it hadn’t done much for her at the time. She might’ve laughed at herself for the doubtful look she cast down at her own chest if she weren’t so self-conscious. Experimentally, Áine rolled the hardened peak of her nipple between her fingertips, her throat convulsing when the sensation was elevated by the havoc Astarion was wreaking below her with little more than his lips and silver tongue.

She’d no sooner thought that than he sank one long finger inside her and she reflexively moved to stifle her sounds again. Her hands stilled as he grumbled at her again and she exhaled a shuddering breath as she followed his instructions and melded her palms against her aching breasts, feeling silly until any coherent thought she could’ve reserved for self-depreciation became impossible.

Astarion surprised her by moaning against her sensitive juncture, seeming to be enjoying this as much as she was as he continued to lick at her clit while he pumped his finger steadily into her heat. Áine had devolved into a writhing, mewling mess at his ministrations, her back arching as he added a second finger to plunge into her warmth. 

He kissed near her bud, careful not to overstimulate her. “You take me so well, my sweet,” he murmured praise against her core, adjusting his fingers to curl upward and stroke along that magical spot at the front of her inner walls.

Áine’s hips bucked of their own accord when he stroked inside her, a wild gasp tearing from her throat that became a loud, wanton moan she couldn’t hold back if she wanted to. Astarion groaned, feeling his cock twitch, already straining against his pants. “There she is,” he purred, guiding her to her peak. “Sing for me, little bard.”

“Oh, gods, Astarion,” she whined, her hands wandering from her chest to thread through his curls as he returned his mouth to her clit. The combined sensation of his mouth on her and his fingers in her was overwhelming and she was sure she’d never swept toward coming undone so intensely before. “I… I think I—”

“Go on, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Come for me, love.”

Those little words snapped her final threads and she shattered with a cry, gasping his name as she gradually came down, doing everything she could not to grip his pretty curls as she tensed and unraveled from the inside. Astarion eased her through her orgasm, slowing his touches until he leaned his head away, watching the slow withdrawal of his fingers from her clenching cunt, wet with her pleasure. 

A genuinely rakish smirk crossed his lips as he pressed the pad of his thumb against her inflamed clit, murmuring understanding as she whimpered and knowing she must be terribly sensitive after all this. He eased his hand away after the applied pressure succeeded in sending a quick succession of aftershocks through her core, tearing a couple more delicious mewls from her. Astarion raised his two glistening fingers to his lips and slowly sucked them clean of her arousal, giving her a smug smile as he wiped his mouth. 

Áine was finding it difficult to form any sort of cohesive thought pattern, but she at least had the wherewithal to form some words around her panting. Her eyes followed Astarion as he shifted her quaking legs off his shoulders and crawled up beside her to lie down. “Thank you?” she expressed with the faint air of a question, not sure if that was an appropriate response to what just happened. Astarion smiled at her affectionately and chuckled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “But what about you?”

The extremely self-satisfied vampire propped his head up on his hand to peer at her. “What about me?” he countered, having a feeling that he knew what she was going to say.

“Can I… Can’t I do anything for you?” she asked, subconsciously rubbing her legs together as the echoes of his touch continued to ghost along the vee of her thighs. A touch of anxiety feathered in her foggy thoughts, worried suddenly that this was unfair to him even though he’d initiated it.

“Not a thing, not just yet. You can let that perfect body unwind and get some sleep,” he murmured against her temple, pulling her in to curl against his side and tugging the blankets up over her exposed flesh. He kissed her, lingering at her hairline and tenderly stroking her back until he felt her start to relax. “Thank you for trusting me, darling,” Astarion added in that same low timbre, not sure if she was still awake to hear it and not minding in either case.     

Áine stirred a few solid hours’ worth of sleep after they’d retired to their tent, her dark eyes opening slowly and taking in her surroundings. Her gaze flickered upward to Astarion’s face, noting that he was still in some stage of reverie, both of his arms wrapped snugly around her. It took her a moment to remember why she’d awakened without her clothes, but as soon as she did, her face warmed over and a faint smile tugged at her lips.

And then there was that inkling of guilt being quietly resurrected. The scales felt tipped last night, at least in the way she’d come to understand intimate relations must be balanced. She knew beyond a doubt that he’d done what he’d done for her because he’d wanted to and he’d explicitly said that he didn’t want her to reciprocate just yet, but it still felt wrong to her. Maybe the way she’d learned about sex up until this point was skewed, too. 

It was necessary, she realized, to be honest with herself. Last night just being about her while her male partner didn’t necessarily get off made her feel like she hadn’t done her due diligence as a woman. It was archaic and foolish and she knew precisely where it came from—watching the way her parents interacted, all the accumulative guilt trips she’d received in previous “romantic” dynamics if you could call them that. It’d taken her a while to settle down from their activities not because she wasn’t satisfied, but because she felt like she’d slacked off. Her desire for him, to please him and make him feel good, came from a place of loving him, but there was that lurking anxiety that came from darker times.

Áine was pulled from her unsettled thoughts when she felt the pad of Astarion’s thumb smooth across the furrow in her brow. She met his now-open eyes and he smiled down at her. “Well, hello, beautiful,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and tightened his arms to draw her in closer. 

The knot in her chest eased a little just from the timbre of his voice. It slunk through her walls and curled up in her bone marrow, assuring her she was known. “I believe that’s meant to be my line,” she noted, running a hand gently through his silver curls. She gently stroked up the elven line of his ear and he shivered, giving her a pointed look. Áine just offered him a playfully smug smile. “How was your rest?”

“It was quiet,” Astarion murmured, tracing aimless patterns on her back. “Preferrable really to what it can be.” Áine had never envied the reverie state that replaced sleep for her full-blooded brethren. The nightmares she’d experienced in her first couple of years of freedom had been more than enough. Meditating through her actual memories or more vivid renditions of the things she suffered in sleep just sounded like pure hell. “Yours?”

“The same,” she said, giving her legs a little stretch before entangling them with his again. The moment stretched like she had, long and comfortably, until Áine’s insecurities crept up on her again. She wasn’t going to bring any of it up, but she could tell that he knew something was amiss when their eyes met again and she didn’t want to leave him to draw his own conclusions. “Was last night okay?” she finally asked.

“Whatever do you mean, my love?” he asked, adjusting to his side to face her and shifting her head from his shoulder to the crook of his arm.

“A couple of things, I guess,” she said, holding eye contact with him when she wanted to duck away. “The first is that I want to check on you. I know we checked in at the time and things felt right in the moment, but do you still feel good about it?”

Astarion’s eyes softened and he cupped her cheek to pull her in for a tender kiss. “Thank you,” he murmured against her lips before they parted. “I feel fine. And I feel good that I feel fine.”

Áine’s smile blossomed anew. “I’m glad. No regrets?”

“Of course not,” Astarion mumbled, almost aghast. “Let’s clear one thing completely, darling, I’ve never regretted a single thing we’ve done. Not one. I’ve just had…reactions, I suppose, at times that I haven’t felt were fair and that had nothing to do with us.” He slanted a brow at her. “Can you trust me on that?”

“Absolutely,” she said, no time lapsed for a second thought.

“Good,” he said, smoothing her hair back from her face. “Now, what else?”

Áine’s eyes fluttered closed as he ran his fingers through her hair, briefly losing her train of thought. It may have been better if that particular train of thought had stayed derailed, but she knew she needed to work on this personal insecurity she hadn’t even realized she had. She sighed and confessed, “I feel…guilty, I suppose, that last night was all about me.”

Astarion scoffed, looking confused when she opened her eyes again to peer at him. “Why would that be, my love?” he asked, experimentally stroking the line of her ear to see if it had the same effect on her that it had on him. She gave a little hum of contentment but she didn’t seem to be as sensitive there as he was. 

Áine sighed again and it was a shorter, more frustrated sound. “I’m not sure I know how to put it into words in a way that doesn’t sound foolish,” she admitted.

“Just try,” Astarion suggested.

“When did our roles reverse for these sorts of conversations?” Áine wondered, leaning in to brush her nose against his. 

She kept it to herself to avoid inadvertently embarrassing him, but she was immensely proud of how he was helping her navigate this. As much as he still defaulted to certain patterns while they were traveling or conversing with other people, it was clear he was actively trying to meet her in the middle when it came to handling things between them and she appreciated it more than she could properly express.

Astarion smirked. “Just now. Don’t count on it for too terribly long though, darling. I’m the hot mess of our pairing and I’m not keen to give that up yet. Far more fun, you see.”

Áine laughed, relenting when he just looked at her expectantly. “Fine,” she murmured, toying with the collar of his shirt and studying the laces as she blurted out, “I think in my limited experience with, well, having sex with men, there’s been an expectation that the man’s pleasure is more important than anything else. So I felt and still kind of feel guilty that you took care of me so diligently and I didn’t do anything for you.” She stuttered a little, quickly adding, “Even though I know you didn’t want me to and that’s completely fine! It’s just the, uh…principle, I guess. Gods, that made no sense…”

“No, it did,” Astarion murmured, wearing a thoughtful expression when she dared to meet his eyes again. He playfully pinched one of her flushed cheeks before musing, “Troubled thoughts when it comes to carnal pleasure… I believe that’s meant to be my line.”

“I’m serious, Astarion,” Áine laughed, although she did appreciate the joke.

“I know you are, sweet girl,” he mumbled into her hair as he pulled her into his chest. She wrapped her arm around his back, forgetting to not rest her hand against his covered scars. He realized he didn’t mind so much anymore. “You needn’t feel guilty for that. But I do think I understand your meaning. For whatever it’s worth, I don’t see our coupling as just a means to a climax. I think I used to think of sex in that sense, long ago, before it became painful territory, but not with you.”

Áine’s eyes were getting watery and she was just glad his face was buried in her hair and he couldn’t see. She tried to ignore the realization that even if he couldn’t see her getting teary-eyed, he could probably still smell the saline. It was hard to obscure much from his senses. “I’ll try my best to remember that,” she murmured. “Thank you for spelling it out for me. This isn’t an affirmation I expected to need.”

Astarion nodded, inhaling her scent deep into his lungs. “If it helps, my dear, I had a grand time,” he murmured, chuckling when he felt her face heat up against his cold cheek. She grumbled something barely discernable about him giggling at her expense, causing him to draw back with a dramatic gasp, which was when he finally saw that her eyes had gone glossy. “Believe it or not, love, for once I’m not exaggerating,” he insisted, unable to resist flashing her a cheeky smirk. His tone dropped to a purr as he nuzzled into her throat again and whispered, “I love all the little sounds you make for me. That the only word you can piece together as you fall apart is my name…”

“Okay, okay,” Áine stammered, beet-red. As she tried to roll away and get up, her vampire just snared her by her waist and pulled her back against him. “Astarion!”

“Just like that, darling girl,” he teased her in a sultry murmur, his tongue darting out to trace the curve of her ear. He was only further encouraged when it pulled a shiver from her smaller frame.

“You��re the worst,” Áine laughed, covering her reddened face with her hands.

“Not the worst at that, apparently,” he continued to rib her, just wriggling with her when she tried to free herself. She only ended up getting more tangled in him. 

“No, you’re arguably one of the best at that and the worst part is you know it!” Áine whined. She couldn’t help but laugh when she felt his lips curve into a grin against her nape.

After he’d sobered from his teasing, Astarion traced a line up the back of her neck with the tip of his nose, kissing her hair again. “I enjoyed myself as much, if not more than I would have if we’d done more,” he informed her. “While it was difficult not to jump right in and hope for the best, I felt completely present during all of it. I’m just not quite out of the ‘motions’ with myself yet. What we did was perfect.”

Áine nodded, tilting her head to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m glad that we both enjoyed ourselves,” she murmured. “And I’m glad that you respected your boundaries. And I suppose all I can add is, well, the moment I can do something for you—”

He chuckled and kissed the rest of her statement off her lips. “I promise you will be the first to know.”   

After finally making peace with rising and continuing on their way and jostling their more hungover companions from their slumbers—some of whom had eventually found their way back to their tents and some of whom had accidentally camped out on the beach—the tents were packed and the supplies secured for their short jaunt back to the circle and then for the last leg of their passage through the Underdark.

Despite knowing why they were swinging back through Spaw’s territory, Áine still picked up her rucksack as usual, flinging it open in search of her mint pouch only to shriek and drop it back to the ground. 

Clutching one hand to her forehead that was somewhere between a facepalm and a way to brace herself, Áine groaned aloud at her staring friends, “Gods above, everyone, get ready to go. I need this nasty drow head out of my bag!”

Next chapter: Chapter 19, "Last Light"

End of Act 1!

Taking a hiatus to continue outlining and drafting into Act 2. Thank you for reading and for all the kind comments and feedback! x

#angst with a happy ending #astarion x oc #astarion x female oc #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #tav #astarion acunin #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #astarion romance #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #baldur's gate #bg3 tav #tavstarion #unbound fic #soft astarion #spawn astarion

[fairykazu]

art museum ft. albedo, ganyu & keqing ⊹ ࣪ ˖

cws: established relationship: ganyu, mutual pining: albedo, one sided pining: keqing, fluff, slight jealousy, dates, reader is implied to be feminine; reader can be taken as gn!

notes: i wanted to write for kazuha but i couldn't think of ideas for him :'(

mlist | based on headcanons

ALBEDO

he wanted to take you somewhere you can see his feelings for you

since you both share the love for the arts, he decided to show you his exhibit of his recent or oldest works

he didnt expect you to share the same feelings as him

it was your first time being at an art museum or at least being accompanied with someone. well, actually, it wasn’t really an art museum when really, its more like an art exhibit. albedo’s art exhibit.

even though, he is the host, he was walking around with you linked to his arm. “albedo? what’s this piece about?”

you pointed to a painting that were more abstract than the others. albedo’s fair complexion reddens a little, “it’s about me experiencing love for the first time.”

“really?” you said, tilting your head. he looked at the expression on your face, your face twisted into jealousy.no matter how you tried, albedo can read you just as easily as a book. “i envy that girl you loved to make that.” you tried to laugh it off but in your eyes, you didn’t find the joke to be funny.

albedo chuckled, which his laugh snapped your attention to him, peeling your eyes off of the piece. “what?”

“this piece was influenced by my love for you.”

“wait what?”

albedo watched how you experienced the stages of grief within ten minutes.

“OH.”

he laughed again as you tangled your fingers in his flax hair. “do you get it?”

“yesyes!”

GANYU

you two had been waiting for ganyu to have a day off to plan another date

usually your planned dates dont go so well so you try to make a spontaneous one and pray it works

surprisingly it does

as you two were already on a date, however when you saw an art museum, you knew you had to take your girlfriend there. today was unfortunately the only day ganyu had time off from work but you were ready to switch gears and make this date the best of all.

“yu! lets go here.” you said, pointing to an art museum. ganyu tilted her head, squinting at the sign.

“the… enchanted canvas?” she fiddled with the ends of her dress.

you confirmed, “yes!” glancing at her face, you reassured her, “i know what youre thinking but dont worry about the costs! i got you,”

you showed her your wallet, packed jammed with money. too much money but she cant stop you from buying for her or not allowing her to pay.

“okay!” the both of you entered, seeing the rows of pieces around the walls. the glass cases of different arts from all over the world.

due to the different aesthetics you both have, naturally, you both separated. you came across a painting that was blue, actually, different variations of blue. the artist used golden accents to highlight the plant they chose to use in the painting. hydrangeas. these colors and especially the flower reminds you of ganyu.

“yuyu!” you said, hoping she caught your voice. behind you, you heard familiar clacks of heels. “hm?”

“this painting reminds me of you.” you pointed to the large canvas framed in gold. ganyu chuckled, “thank you, sweetheart. ive seen one that reminds me of you too.”

“yu, do you think i can buy this for you?”

“name, with both of our savings combined, i dont think we can buy this.” she joked, but really was trying to convince you not to buy the painting.

“hmm.”

“do you want to see the painting or…”

you changed your mind, or seemed to. “yes, lets go see it!”

KEQING

keqing had been admiring you for far too long and realized that the feelings she thought was platonic were actually romantic

on todays hang out you both have topics to share

“keqing, where do you wanna go for today’s daily debrief?” you asked. the both of you met up at a local cafe and usually on every friday, you both talk about whats happening in your life. but keqing noticed that you have been flaking every other friday making her concerned for you, which is why she called a debrief on a thursday instead. “let’s go to the art museum. the one reel you sent on instagram.”

“oooh! ive been wanting to go to the glided gallery.” you replied in excitement. keqing nodded as she pulled out her phone,

“its a 5 minute walk from here. lets go.”

- - -

you and the purple haired girl walked into the museum. seeing how every other person was dressed, you felt embarrassed because of how underdressed you felt.

“‘qing dont i look like underdressed?” you asked, feeling the regret seeped into your bones. keqing seemed like she brushed it aside but really, she was thinking really hard on what to say to you. “no. you look gorgeous.”

“oh! thank you. so what did you want to talk about keqing?”

keqing winced, she had forgotten the reason why she invited you in the first place. other than asking you why you flaked out, she likes you. as in, likes-likes you.

“i was going to ask why did you flake out on the last meeting, n/n.”

“oh!” you said, flustered a little. “thats because ive been talking to this guy-”

a guy? again? hasnt enough guys broke your heart

“and hes really sweet. i think you know him actually! xiao?”

oh. nevermind, this guy would never break your heart.

“ohh, hes loyal.”

“isnt he?!”

“um, lets go pver here.”

unluckily, keqing thought. this section shows the romantic side of artists. “oh okay, wait, keqing, was there more you wanted to tell me? i can tell on your face.”

keqing’s heart and brain fought between confessing to you and not telling you. its a cycle she goes through, laying on her bed to everyday thought. she was going to confess but after hearing you have another boyfriend. she decided against it, bringing this secret to the death bed.

“oh. no, i just wanted to show you how this painting is really cute.”

“youre right, it is.” you were mesmerized by the painting hung on the wall, you couldnt see that keqing was just as enchanted just by looking at you.

#genshin impact x you #astronetwrk #albedo x y/n #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x you #albedo genshin impact #ganyu x reader #ganyu #genshin ganyu #keqing x reader #keqing #kazuha x you #kaedahara kazuha #female reader #gender neutral reader #genshin x you

[dinogoose]

i ain't gotta tell him (i think he knows)

“Buck, I am in love with you.” Eddie repeats, hoping this time his message is clearer.

Buck looks up this time, a furrow in his brow “Okay... I’m in love with you too.” He responds using the same inflection Eddie did. “Now, do you think these pears are in season?” The blonde man asks, scrutinizing the pears in front of him, acting completely unaffected by Eddie’s confession.

“Are you not understanding-”

“Personally I always preferred the red pears, but they're kind of harder to find nowadays, so I have to settle for the green. Which is annoying because they never seem to be ripe. Anyways what do you think, yes or no?”

(or, while grocery shopping, eddie confeses his love to buck, but he already knows)

It happens in a grocery store.

Although in Eddie’s defense, this was not his intention.

Originally he had wanted to wine and dine Buck, ask him out like a gentleman. Take him to that fancy Italian place Buck loves, and quietly but honestly confess his love for the man by candlelight.

Or at the very least do it somewhere without awful fluorescent lighting. But no, instead he confesses here and now because Eddie can’t help himself as he watches Buck carefully pick out produce.

Watching the man, he loves thump watermelons listening for the ‘correct pitch’ to ensure ripeness. He looks utterly ridiculous hunched over, flicking fruit, and Eddie can't help but fall even harder for the man.

He can feel the words building inside of him, clawing up his throat, attempting to penetrate his vocal cords. He'd love to tell you he fought it, tried to keep it inside, but he didn’t, too far gone for the man in front of him,

"I love you." Eddie tells him, still carefully watching him as Buck triumphantly finds the perfect watermelon, and brings it over to their cart, gently placing it inside.

Buck doesn’t look up before replying, “I love you too, Eds.”

Then he wanders over to the apples and pears, grabbing a produce bag. The sound of him shaking it out finally snaps Eddie out of his stupefaction.

Maybe Buck thought Eddie was saying it in a platonic way, how two friends love each other, (in his defense who romantically confesses their love next to rows and rows of bananas?) so Eddie should just clarify. Try again.

“Buck, I am in love with you.” Eddie repeats, hoping this time his message is clearer.

Buck looks up this time, a furrow in his brow “Okay... I’m in love with you too.” He responds using the same inflection Eddie did. “Now, do you think these pears are in season?” The blonde man asks, scrutinizing the pears in front of him, acting completely unaffected by Eddie’s confession.

“Are you not understanding-”

“Personally I always preferred the red pears, but they're kind of harder to find nowadays, so I have to settle for the green. Which is annoying because they never seem to be ripe. Anyways what do you think, yes or no?” Buck’s now holding the aforementioned fruit in front of his face.

He's functioning normally as though he didn't just turn Eddie’s world inside out. When Eddie doesn't respond, Buck merely shrugs and places the bag into the cart.

Eddie honest to god feels like he’s been transported to a different dimension.

An endless moment passes between them, Eddie stuck gaping, and Buck growing more and more confused as Eddie remains silent.

A hand snaps in front of his face, “Eddie, hello? Are you okay?”

Eddie blinks a few times, gathering himself. Okay, right, maybe, perhaps, Buck just didn't understand... again.

“Buck,” Eddie says, stepping fully into his space, placing his hands on Buck’s shoulders, “I am completely, romantically, in love with you.”

Buck’s face scrunches up, his mouth twisting, eyes squinting as he examines Eddie. Then he says,

“Eddie... I know.”

Taken aback, Eddie drops his arms, letting them hang limply at his sides, “You know... What?”

“That you love me,” Buck responds simply. The same tone he uses when stating a fact, except this time the fact is that he knows Eddie loves him.

“How could you possibly know that?” The older man questions, taking a step back, and bumping into a display of avocados. Buck reaches out to steady him, making sure he doesn’t knock everything over.

“You told me.” The blonde claims, gesturing his hand out towards Eddie.

“I- what? No, I didn't-” Eddie sputters. He would one-hundred percent remember telling Buck because this has been something quietly building inside of Eddie for years. If he had already told Buck it wouldn’t have sat so heavy inside of him, the weight of hiding his love crushing him.

“Okay maybe not in that exact phrasing,” Buck concedes, “but I know you, and I know you're a man of action not words. You've been showing me your love for years, Eds, I had just thought you- we weren't ready to define it or address it. And that was fine because I knew you loved me, and well I thought you knew I loved you.”

Eddie vehemently shakes his head, expressing that, no he did not know that, he didn't know about any of this.

“Oh,” Buck says simply, cogs plainly turning in his head as he catalogs every interaction they’ve had. “Then let me say it again. Eddie Diaz, I love you fully, romantically, physically, emotionally- I could go on forever, the point is, I love you.”

Buck’s eyes are intense, every emotion he’s kept at bay spilling out into those baby blues. The tenderness and love Eddie feels are reflected to him through Buck's expressive face.

Eddie truly prides himself on being perceptive. With the job he has and the fact that he has a sneaky pre-teen son, he has to be. He and Buck had been heading towards something, something that had seemed so far out of reach that Eddie had previously convinced himself Buck would never love him like that.

But now, here they stand in the misty produce section, confessing their love.

Eddie grabs the pear from Buck’s hand, setting it back down, before grabbing him by the waist and pulling him in.

Buck, who is always on the same page as Eddie, goes easily, holding onto Eddie’s shoulders for support.

The meeting of their lips is far too intense for this tiny local store, but neither of them cares or even seems to notice, as they allow their open mouths to meet. Tongues fighting for dominance, passion bursting into every movement they make.

From where his hands are resting, Eddie squeezes Buck's hip, before gently pushing him away so they can talk. Buck whines as they separate, attempting to lean in once more.

“Hold on-” Eddie laughs as Buck tries again to kiss him, “I want to say something. Also, I don't think we should be making out here, we're going to get kicked out.” It’s a valid point, but Buck still pouts.

“I'm sorry for... well all of this, but I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. I love you so much, and I know I'm shit with words, but you deserve them, you deserve everything, Buck.”

Buck cups his face reverently, eyes glazing with all the emotions he's feeling, “You don't need to be sorry, I knew, and I still know, that you love me. However, I do hope you now know that it's extremely mutual.”

Eddie smiles at him, elated by all the revelations this errand has brought him.

Until Buck ruins it,

“But seriously, yes or no to the pears?”

(my opinions on pears are strong. hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading! see you soon.)

#buck x eddie #eddie diaz #911 show #911 fox #evan buckley #buddie #tv: 911 #911 fic #buddie fic #911 fanfic #buddie 911 #fic #ficlet #fanfic