#[but I managed to draw a lil something]
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ITS MOBS BIRTHDAY!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BOY!! drink all the milk and eat as much cake as you like!!
#its also mothers day!! so i wanted to draw mr and mrs kageyama... best parents in anime history ;_;#i somehow managed to draw this pretty fast… like around 5 hours or so…#i have something to do all day so i couldn’t spend a lotta time but it’s mobs day!! i would do anything for the lil guy#surely reigen has been invited to the kageyamas house before right?#he must’ve met mobs parents as well…right??#reigen… do you even know mob… lol#my art#mp100#mob psycho 100#shigeo kageyama#reigen arataka#ritsu kageyama#teruki hanazawa#ekubo#… oh… mobs parents don’t have names… ah
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ALL! Grown Up!
#rugrats#tommy pickles#dil pickles#chuckie finster#phil deville#lil deville#kimi watanabe finster#angelica pickles#susie carmichael#iloart#SIKE!! something possessed me and i somehow managed to colour all of them in like a week asdhfjdhg#u can clearly tell how i quickly got sloppy dkfjgh whatevs#id wanna give em different outfits like agu but if i had to settle on one.. something like these maybe#i will probably also still change stuff as i draw more of them BUT U GET THE IDEA#gave dil silly jibbitz✨ and kimi n lil matching childhood patches hehe <3#and angelicas hair colour matching drews more as she gets older is now near and dear to me#ok bye nowwww
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OCTOBER 31st | Wei Wuxian
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support me on ko-fi ☆
#mxtxnet#dailyuntamed#mxtxtober#mdzs#the untamed#mdzs fanart#wei wuxian#wei wuxian fanart#fanart#rnmyn.art#i really thought i would manage a lot of prompts then proceeded to work on a 12 x 30 inch canvas for wwx bday ha ha ha#still can't draw animals pls look away from lil apple#will work on a matching lwj that no one will see until january since i really just wanted to draw something i want to print for myself#rare full body drawing by op (。_。)
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I was inspired by something again
#this week hasn't been so great(some good some~ bad)but my brain always makes time for doods. dunno if ill get to make more this month tho#my traditional inking is still pretty rusty which is a shame cause I admire that skill strongly in other people so I hope I can#pick it back up#here though I did shade and kinda edit in digital cause I don't trust myself so much yet and don't wanna ruin it#at this point idk what's better for me. practice drawing bigger so I can get more detail in or stay small and manage the shading better#I'll... try something. eventually#gonna get a lil busy tho#kuroshitsuji#black butler#kuroshitsuji fanart#fanart#traditional art#inking#digital art#ciel phantomhive#elizabeth midford#edward midford#o!ciel#cheslock(mentioned)#oh I guess this is ship art. well would ya look at that#modern!au
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Guys, sorry for my absence, I was busy serving omelette for King Louis XIII's birthday on Sep 27th, here's the proof 🎉
I guess drawing him being genuinely happy with some comfort food has officially become my coping mechanism sorry not sorry
#I swear I'm gonna draw something new and different later#ACTUALLY I HAVE A LOT OF IDEAS#aaand also huge problems with time management :“”“”“0#also I already made a lil birthday post for him on my other blog a week ago#but without any drawings it all felt so INCOMPLETE#my art#17th century#artists on tumblr#louis xiii#king louis xiii#louis xiii le juste
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I vote for Argenti! I hope you feel better soon!
Thank you ! I do feel much better (though I admit I hurt a little for very much my fault reasons but it's mostly manageable through light pain meds).
Take an Argenti o7 I got lazy and didn't draw the roses I was gonna draw to the left so there is now a wide open blank spot.
#honkai star rail#argenti#i managed one of the things i owe and this isnt it but here take a doodle#im a ding dong who told someone oh no its starting to pour i should draw someone quick#and then proceeded to draw him way past the rain .... so that.... was a thing#i mean luckily we didnt lose power but still#ALSO OMG THE REASONS I AM AT FAULT FOR ISSSSSSSSS#we have obtained as of yesterday a mama cat and a lil baby boy#and so i heard him mewing under the bed and like a FOOL rolled over on my side with the recovering incisions#to check on him and hoo boy that was indeed a mistake#but lil guy was okay just wanted attention#im so pleased to announce he loves me most teehee#my dad has repeatedly told me idk where he is i hope he isnt stuck#and then i simply exist upstairs and then he bounds out from his hiding spot and lets me pet him and pick him up#truly a good lil bean he is so baby i - with v tiny hands - can hold him in one hand without any problems#none of this has to do with the art i apologize#but ty for the request uhhhh over a week ago ! i do still have them in my inbox and when i can manage i try to look over em#and try to consider one but then i sometimes just do not have energy and wanna do something easy and fast
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#this is Dean Winchester rn alive and well and with 3 mismatching kinds of scooby sheets he’s gone crazy#dean winchester#supernatural#fan works#ik ik my proportions i don't usually draw dynamic poses#also I wanted it to be a lil funnier of a pose but couldn't quite manage to get it right so just went for something soft instead#my fan works#dean with scoobies
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#☽ [ ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴀ ɢᴜᴀʀᴅɪᴀɴ - ᴀ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴀɴᴄɪᴇɴᴛ ʀɪᴛᴇs | AES.]#☽ [ ᴏᴡʟ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀɢᴇ | STOLAS]#[ok so i have been down with the flu]#[but I managed to draw a lil something]#[inktober prompt was shapeshifter]#[so ... stolas obvs!!]#[I'm alive yet barely... miss you all]#stolas goetia#stolas fanart
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Realizing I barely write in French anymore hm
#🤨 hm idk#i would like to start making my comics in French a lil more and my other writing too#actually i would like to start writing more in general#entering adulthood and having an apartment and bills and much more responsibilities#i have not been as productive and creative as I would have liked#but I’ve managed to get back into it with art#i force myself to draw even if its bad just to do it and have something ive drawn#and ive been getting into traditional art and some craft projects as well#something i havent really done before#because im a stubborn bitch who refused to learn how to paint correctly#i was frustrated that my drawing skills didn’t translate to other art forms so i didn’t explore them#and yes my digital art skills are better than traditional but im just enjoying it and learning as i go#ok im talking a lot#lmao absolutely not related to the original post this too is art
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hi there~
#obey me leviathan#bbyguy !!#this is a really REALLU good look on levi so <333#ALSO!!! I DID HIS EYES RIGHT!!! I REMEMBERED!!#there is a little ourple in em i swear#augh quick sketch bc ive looking at **** for too long today without even.......#augh i have also been wanting to draw something but couldnt manage so using a panel as reference it is =w=b#i just cant really be bothered to refine this =w=b#i dont wanna maintag this bc its a quick thing but if it get 5 likes within tomorrow ig =3=#my work#wanted to add lil kissy marks all over but thats too much work =w=b maybe some day.
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i'm supposed to be sleeping but i'm busy sobbing into my hands over ryou for like the fifth time already this week
#he's just so. aaaaaa#at first it was something stupid like me reflecting on his dumb destiny draw line#(his. his silly lil 'i need a SUPER critical card for this SUPER critical time!!'#in which i politely say please shut up and kiss me ASJGDJH)#and then it was about everything he went through in canon (as usual)#and then it was just. i want him to be happy :(#i say that so often i know but i just. he deserves to be happy and to rest#he's been through so much even before the start of the series and yet he just.#he still manages to keep himself together. he still manages to be kind and he's still strong and secure despite it all#he's willing to put himself on the line for people he barely even knew when yamiba was a threat to them...#he was willing to let yamiba take over his body again if it meant helping his friends despite knowing the consequences#like yeah some of the things he did were hasty and questionable but#i genuinely think that he believed he was doing the right thing#even if it was for his own curiosity i think somehow it still rooted back to helping yugi and the gang one way or another#and after it's all said and done the things that yb did still come back to haunt him#he never gets a break :( he never gets to truly rest even after the ring is gone#i don't. even know where i'm going with this#i just. don't you think he's tired?? after everything?? after losing his sister and his mother?#after his dad starts getting distant and burying himself in his work because the loss of the rest of their family was too much for him??#after having that overwhelming feeling that he did something wrong but never knowing quite what it was for most of his childhood??#after getting possessed and being used as only a host body for the ghostly equivalent of a parasite?#after having to abandon his other schools and friends and his own house because he didn't want anyone getting hurt by him??#and yet he's just. not. he's not bitter about it he's not exhausted (on the surface at least) and he's still so polite and still standing..#aaadsakhksjfsasfjhkdsa i don't know what i'm trying to say#i just. i love him. he's so much more stronger than i could ever hope to be#i want him to feel safe with me. like he doesn't have to be that all of the time#but i'm so proud of him regardless. just for making it this far#anyway i'm. sobs. i love this dork so much#need to go and like... bury my face into his hair or something skjhfjkhsd#mister side character here has a sparse amount of canon info so i am. personally filling in gaps if any of this looks iffy
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I don't have a better screenshot on hand rn but here's a skin I made for myself a bit back
i think it would be such a fun little bit for hermitblr bit for folks to pass around their minecraft skins without any other design context and let people make up designs (as hermitblr artists do) to see how other people interpret it
#i wanna try and draw some of the skins in the replies but idk if i have rhe energu#ill try and see if i can manage to draw something#in the meanwhile im leaving u guys with my lil guy
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i dont typically give a shit about how many likes my art gets but i kinda busted my ass to finish a big pinup piece in time for valentines day and it got 2 likes... i average a strong 9 to 10 what the heck man.
#alan yells#i dont really draw for others just for me but my god. 2?? 2 likes!??#i was hella proud of it too like 😭😭#its not that big of a deal im just a lil frustrated lol#and im not expecting that much bc like i said i average low anyways and only draw stuff to cater to myself but damn. 2 in total? crazy#i wont change my ways tho lmAO#i think whats bothering me is that i managed to finish it in 3 days whereas my last piece took a whole month and before that 3 months#so its like im getter better at rendering and finishing something more timely which im happy about#but the little acknowledgment is discouraging? idk idk#its fine i just wanted a quick throwaway vent
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jumps up the wall crawls out my skin howls at the moon bites my own leg
#vent#something just feels different this time idk#its just been one day maybe shes just in a bad mood or something she was very happy 2 days ago#but she is my everything she is my baby#oughrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh#vet tomorrow well see what happens#shes doing okay im just worried i cant shake it#ive been holding off the thought but eusgduygsudgsj#kayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy#distraction town is drawing and watching stuff ive been meaning to so at least theres that lol#ok#runs around in a circle so fast#idk.#cries#okay she just purred for the first time today. We are fine#also managed to get her to eat a lil liquid snack#now come here and eat your damn food. I lvoe you
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A multi-headcanon request please. How the boys react when they discover their s/o has been hiding a wound from them because she had it under control and didn't want to give them something else to worry about
Hi! Thanks so much for the request and all the support! Have written a little fic for each of the guys, starring... - Xavier, Deepspace Hunter extraordinaire ✨ - Linkon's worst best baking partner, Zayne 🍪 - Drama queen Rafayel 👑 - King of self-care, Sylus 💅
Putting On A Brave Face
L&DS Boys x Reader
Summary: Sometimes, a certain hunter likes to say things are fine when they definitely aren't...
Genre: A lil bit of angst, mostly fluff + comfort!
Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, some injury details/blood mentioned, teeeeency bit of suggestion (I'm looking at YOU, Sylus...)
| Word count: 4k (1k each!) | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
Xavier ⭐
This is bad. Not ‘end of everything as we know it’ bad, but definitely ‘an obscene amount of paperwork’ bad.
You clutch one of your pistols to your chest— deep breath— and you listen carefully, your head leant back against the rock you’re using as cover. Your mind latches on to every sound: each growl, each rumble of earth that marks the movements of the Wanderers that have trapped you here.
You’ve fought worse odds, but then again, you don’t usually have to do it with a broken leg.
Or maybe just sprained? You shift a little, trying to move, and the pain that sears through you settles the debate in an instant. Your teeth sink into the back of your hand to keep you from crying out.
You hope Xavier’s ok. You sent him your co-ordinates minutes ago, and the lack of response has worry gnawing away at the deepest parts of you. You check your hunter’s watch.
Still nothing.
Another deep breath, and you readjust your position as much as you can. Balancing on your good leg, you manage to peer over the top of the rock to get a visual of your surroundings.
There’s four, no— five Wanderers. Stupid no-hunt zone; you’re never not outnumbered.
You can see your second pistol, abandoned in the middle of the clearing where you’d dropped it. There’s flickers of movement, too: further in the woods. More Wanderers. Shit.
You duck behind the rock you’re starting to think might be your new home. Then your watch flickers, broadcasting a map of the area, and there’s the co-ordinates of another hunter, closing in fast.
Something flashes in the clearing, lighting the dark of the forest like a stutter of lightning. Then again. Then again. There’s a blood-curdling roar, and it ends— abrupt— with another flash.
Everything goes silent, save for a familiar voice calling your name.
“Xavier!” you call back.
You peek over the rock to see your partner jogging towards you, dead Wanderers littered behind him. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft as always, but his sword is still dripping blood.
“I’m ok.” You clamber up, using the rock as a seat when the small effort almost breaks you. “You?”
Xavier draws close— his gloved hands on your face, cupping your cheeks. His thumb grazes over a shallow scrape on your brow. “Yeah,” he answers.
“Did you find that weird Wanderer?”
He shakes his head: no. Steps back to check his watch. “It’s probably moved on to a different zone by now.”
“Then we should look for it,” you say, standing up. All of your weight is on one leg.
“Ah,” Xavier ponders, rubbing his neck, “really? I thought we should maybe head back.”
“No need.” And what’s the plan here, exactly? You can’t walk. You definitely can’t fight. Maybe you can wait here while he— no. He’s never going to leave you. “I told you I’m ok.”
“But you’re not.”
“I am,” you assert. You’re determined to convince him and your own, useless body. It’s just a sprain. It is just a sprain. You take a step forwards and stumble, your bad leg crumpling beneath you.
Xavier catches you, strong and solid, and he's holding you like you’re something delicate. He sets you down on the rock again. The pain is making your vision swim.
“You’re hurt,” he reasons gently, even though the truth of it is a knife that’s twisting in your heart. He seems to sense your reluctance: “There’s no shame in admitting that. It happens. Let’s go back.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m slowing you down, Xavier!” you gush. Your heart is split open and it has to bleed somewhere. “You have no idea what it’s like… being your partner.”
He’s looking at you with so much guilt and gods, you wish that somewhere was anywhere but his hands. “What do you mean?” he asks on a shaky breath.
“I love working with you.” Soften the blow. “I love being with you, but you don’t need me. You’re this incredible hunter. This figure of legend, of everyone’s stories. You can do so much on your own and I just don’t know how to keep up. I mean, look at me— I can’t.”
You feel sick. Empty. “You shouldn’t have to hang back for me,” you finish limply. “You’re you, Xavier. You can fight like a hundred Wanderers and still come out unscathed.”
The blue of Xavier’s eyes has grown understandably more turbulent, though it settles a little. He seems to relax. “Yeah… about that,” he mumbles hesitantly.
He turns around and your mouth drops. A savage cut drapes like a crimson sash down his back, splitting the white of his uniform. It’s not deep enough to be fatal, but it’s not good, either.
“Wha— Xavier!” you exclaim, trying to surge forwards, but your pain keeps you rooted. “You said you were ok!”
“So did you,” he frowns, bewildered. “Can we get out of—”
“Yeah, yeah.” You let him take your arm and help you to your feet.
He leads you through the clearing and into the forest, supporting your weight as you hop along beside him. There’s a murmur about how he should carry you, but you’re quick to reassure him he’s doing enough. You’re both hurting; you both just need to survive the short walk out of the no-hunt zone, where a med team can take over.
“You don’t slow me down, you know,” Xavier says quietly, after a minute of silence. “You’re the reason I can keep going.”
You squeeze his arm affectionately, mustering a smile even though you’re nauseous with pain and the idea that he’s been dwelling on your speech this whole time. “Well,” you chuckle through gritted teeth, “you’re gonna have to learn how to get by without me.”
“Huh?” He gives you a curious look.
You glance down at your leg. “Zayne’s gonna kill me...”
Zayne ❄
“I’m a doctor.”
You stop what you’re doing to fix Zayne with a questioning stare. “Ok…?”
“I’ve published dozens of research papers. Pioneered new surgical techniques. My work on Evol-based regenerative properties still has lasting implications for my field, and I’ve the accolades to show for it. The Starcatcher Award. The Linde Award, too— I was the youngest ever recipient.”
None of this is news to you, and you can’t help chuckling at this change in your usually-humble physician. You humour him: “The youngest ever recipient, huh?” There’s a crack as you split an egg on the side of the bowl in front of you. “That’s very impressive.”
“Is it?”
Zayne stands from his seat at your kitchen table: you hear the chair draw back. You feel his presence arrive behind you as you continue to stir your soon-to-be cookie dough. “Yeah,” you lilt with a smile.
“Really?” he pushes again, and his arms wrap around you as he bends to speak into your ear. “Because someone seems to think I can’t even recognise a—” he nips at it— “sprained ankle.”
His breath is warm on your neck and you let out a giggle. “Keep speaking to me like that and these cookies are never making it into the oven. Or your stomach.”
The man relents. He releases you, not returning to his seat but opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. You glance up at him; he stares back, waiting for an actual answer.
“My ankle is fine, Zayne.”
There’s a sigh as he crosses his arms.
“It is,” you insist, even though you did sprain your ankle at work today, it does hurt like hell, and you do just want to sit down. You reach for the flour you’d measured out previously, tipping it into the larger bowl. “If it wasn’t, would I really be here— making you cookies?”
“Yes,” he says plainly.
“You’re delusional.”
“Ok.”
Well, that was a little too easy. Don’t overthink it, and definitely don’t read into the fact that he’s standing there oh-so-smugly, like he knows something you don’t. You finish stirring the flour into the mixture, then add the last of the ingredients. Just a pinch of salt, and then…
Where did you put the chocolate chips? You glance about yourself but they’re nowhere in sight. “Hey, Zayne? Have you seen the—”
“This cupboard,” he indicates with an upwards nod of his head. His eyes are relentless. “Top shelf.”
Ah. That’s ok. You’ve totally got this. You move beneath the cupboard, opening it and gazing up into the contents. You can see the pack of chocolate chips. You can get up there somehow, right?
“Would you like me to—” Zayne starts, but you cut him off:
“Nope.” You put your hands on your hips. “Please— if I can climb the back of an alive, awake, and very angry deluge wyrmlord to put a sword through its skull, I think I can make it onto the kitchen counter in one piece. Lemme just…”
Your knee lifts. You make it about a centimetre from the floor before Zayne’s hands are on your waist, grounding you. “Stop,” he instructs, and it's not a tone that allows for any rebuttal. Satisfied by your silence, he brings the chocolate chips down to you.
“Thanks,” you say quietly as they’re placed on the counter.
“You’re welcome."
Sheepishly, you spill a generous amount of chocolate chips into the cookie mixture. Your throat hurts in the way that keeps you from saying anything more. You already feel like an idiot, and your eyes are watering, threatening to make you look like even more of one.
Zayne’s hand appears in front of you, hovering over the bowl. You laugh in understanding: giving the half-empty bag another shake so chocolate chips fall into his palm.
“You… don’t have to explain yourself,” he says as he lifts them to his mouth. His next words are muffled: “But you can tell me anything, my love. I never want you to feel as though you can’t.”
You chuckle again; you can’t help yourself. Look at him: your oh-so-serious doctor shovelling chocolate into his mouth. He raises an eyebrow at you, his lips still on his palm.
“I know I can tell you anything,” you smile, the ache in your throat receding, however much the rest of you hurts. “I did sprain my ankle. It’s not that I wanted to hide it from you, it’s just—” you stop stirring the mixture— “it’s just that your whole life is taking care of people at the hospital. You should get a break from it. You should get to be Zayne, here… at home. Just Zayne, not Doctor Zayne.”
Zayne’s hazel eyes have taken on a hue of regret. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, buying himself a few seconds as he contemplates. “Are you a doctor?” he asks after a moment.
“No?”
“And yet, here you are, taking care of me.” He reaches for the abandoned packet of chocolate chips. “Tell me, does it feel like work to you?”
“Yeah,” you tease, drawing the packet away from his stretching fingers in explanation; you’re both grinning.
“Well, it never feels like work to me. Just Zayne likes taking care of you. And right now? He wants to bundle you up on the sofa and finish these cookies for you.”
You purse your lips: that’s some dubious wording. “Zayne, hell will freeze over before I leave you and this cookie dough unsupervised.”
He shushes you, pulling on the cord of your apron until the bow at your back comes loose. Before you can protest, he’s wearing the apron himself.
“Zayne, I’m not kidding. I know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get rid of me, and then you’ll—”
“Shh,” he coos again, whisking you carefully off your feet, because it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. “You’re delusional.”
Rafayel 🔥
“Mmhmm. Mmhmm.”
“Raf, who are you—”
He holds out a finger to shush you. “Mmhmm.”
You cross your arms impatiently. Who is he even talking to, anyway? His lilac eyes are locked on you as he continues humming away, apparently very invested in whatever the person on the phone is saying; you’ve never seen him go this long without talking.
He narrows his eyes at you. You narrow your eyes right back.
All around you, guests of the exhibition are milling about, all dressed to the nines and minding their business, however much they want the attention of the man in front of you. A few of them linger as they pass him, like they want to say something, like they’re going to say something…
But they don’t.
It’s a wonder that Rafayel stands out in the crowd as much as he does. You’d seamlessly located him, back from your third trip to the bathroom to check on the bandages you’ve managed to conceal beneath this dress. He’s still holding your purse for you, his phone in his other hand, except—
That’s your phone. That’s your phone! “Rafayel!”
He shushes you again. “I understand,” he says solemnly, notably not to you, “thanks for letting me know.” The call is ended. He takes a deep, collected breath, then looks at you. “I knew it!”
“Knew what? Who was that?”
“Zayne.”
“You called Zayne?”
“Like I had a choice!” Rafayel retaliates. It is true; he’s spent the entire evening trying to get you to admit something was wrong, and you had no intention of giving him that pleasure. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital! What kind of idiot breaks out of the hospital?”
The lack of irony in the question almost breaks you. “Umm… you?! Like every other week?!”
He shrugs. “That’s different.”
“Rafayel, I swear, I’m gonna— ah!” you gasp in pain. You’d stepped forwards too quickly— maybe to strangle him, but that’s neither here nor there— and the wound on your side is clearly on his side. It stings like hell: punishing you, and you know the pain is self-inflicted.
Rafayel frowns in concern, maybe even guilt, and that’s why you didn’t tell him. “C’mon, we should go,” he insists gravely.
“It’s fine, Raf. It doesn’t even—”
“Stop lying! You said you wouldn’t hide stuff like this from me. You promised, remember?”
You’re losing track of all the promises you’ve made to the Lemurian, but you do remember that one. Guilt has its teeth in you, too. “I know,” you grumble, “I’m sorry, ok? I just knew—”
“What?”
“That you’d act like this! You’ve been working on this exhibition for months, Raf. Tonight is supposed to be about you. Not me— you. And I want it to stay that way. Everyone’s here to celebrate you and your work, and that’s how it should be. That’s what I want. To support you. To be here for you.”
Your voice has gone timid. You finish meekly: “Can’t you let me do this for you? Please?”
Rafayel’s eyes are wide and still the prettiest things you’ve ever seen, even in a room full of masterpieces and jewels you could never afford. They shine with uncertainty, but soften as he smiles, full of fondness and affection. “That’s sweet. But also? Really dumb.”
“Raf—”
“The only— and I mean only— reason I’m here tonight is because you are. I don’t care about what anyone thinks about me or my paintings. Just you. And you can see this?” He gestures around the gallery. “Anytime. My life’s your private exhibition, cutie. Exclusive access, 24/7, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
He steps closer to you: close enough that he can see the tear that’s made it halfway down your cheek. He wipes it away with a chuckle. “Plus,” he adds, “I know you know I’m amazing. You don’t need these old sourpusses to tell you that, do you?”
You laugh tentatively. “No, I don’t.”
Your injury protests as you use the lapels on Rafayel’s blazer to pull him closer; you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He’s still grinning as he draws away, a light blush on his cheeks, but the sweetness of the moment vanishes as his gaze drifts lower.
“My eyes are up here, Rafayel.”
“Yeah…” he concedes mindlessly, but then he points: “you know you’re like, bleeding, right?”
You glance downwards to where the red of your dress is turning darker. There’s just a small splotch, but it’s growing. Shit. You must have reopened the wound.
“Thomas?” you hear Rafayel call, and then he’s stuffing a silk handkerchief into your hands— helping you apply pressure. “We have to get out of here,” he explains as a figure joins you.
His agent folds his arms; this is not dissimilar to stunts you and Rafayel have pulled before. “Fake blood, guys? Really?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t leave, Rafayel. I can just see the headlines tomorrow…”
“Dashing artist selflessly flees exhibition to save devoted bodyguard,” Rafayel concurs with a nod.
Thomas groans. “That’s not what they’re going to—”
“Help me out with this, cutie?”
“Yes, sir,” you mock salute.
A moment later, Rafayel has scooped you up into his arms. Your hero; he gives you a conspiratorial wink before glancing about frantically. “Quickly!” he cries out. “Everyone out of the way, please!”
“For the love of—” Thomas starts.
“Oh, gods!” you shout in agony. “It hurts. It hurts!”
Heads turn. Cameras flash.
Tomorrow morning, half of Linkon will be talking about one of their favourite celebrities and his long-envied bodyguard. A news article will pop-up on her doctor’s phone, and he’ll see the pictures and sigh.
Sylus 🩸
“It’s not too late to back down, sweetie,” Sylus sneers.
“Aw, but you got all dressed up for the occasion.”
Your eyes rake over the outline of the man’s abs, courtesy of the tank top he’s wearing, and it does take the sting out of the fact that he’ll be trying to hit you. He holds his wrapped hands before him, ready to defend, ready to attack. He’ll probably attack, right?
“Last chance,” he growls.
“Is it, though?” This is the third ‘last chance’ you’ve been given in the five minutes you’ve been teetering on combat. You beckon him with a curl of your fingers. “Come on, Sylus. This is getting old.”
He scoffs: “How do you think I feel?”
“Like you’re about to get your ass kicked?”
“Alright, enough.” His hands drop and it feels like you’re back at the academy, about to be scolded for not taking something seriously. Sylus turns his back on you. Moves to the edge of the boxing ring so he can retrieve a stool from outside of it and sit down in a huff. He starts peeling the wraps from his knuckles, and— wait, is he mad? Like, actually mad?
“What’s wrong, Sy?”
He laughs as though you’re missing something dreadfully obvious. Maybe irony.
“Sylus?”
“You really are heartless, sweetie. You know that?”
The words steal your breath away, if only for a moment. Yours is a relationship of pulled punches, but he won’t meet your gaze and that one was real, wasn’t it? He wanted it to sting. “Why—”
“I could have hurt you,” he snaps, his dishevelled, snowy hair falling to cover his eyes. His discarded wraps slide from his hands, pooling by his feet like blood. “You were going to let me hurt you.”
He looks at you, finally, but it’s not in the way you want. His gaze is cast low, trailing over your body and making you feel every bruise, every closed cut that wants to reopen and every ache, rooted almost to bone. You’d done your best to hide it, even going so far as to press make-up hastily over your purpled skin.
That Wanderer really did a number on you yesterday.
“You should have told me,” Sylus says, since you’ve made it onto the same page. “Honestly, kitten. Why would you—”
“Because Luke and Kieran told me, ok?”
Oh, they’re going to kill you. It was supposed to be a secret, and here you are, spilling like a fresh wound because you can’t stand the thought of Sylus being upset with you. You step closer, scrambling to dissect what you’ve done right in front of his eyes— holding it out to him: this is why. This is why. “They said you had a rough week. Some deals of yours had fallen through or something. And I’ve been too busy. I haven’t called, I haven’t even texted, and…”
You need him to understand, but the truth is a mess in your hands and how do you even start to explain it to him?
“You wanted to do something for me,” he finishes for you, and you don’t have to explain a thing.
“Yeah…” you confirm, bittersweet and still sad. “You do so much for me, Sylus. I just wanted to do what you wanted, for a change.”
Maybe it’s a round of boxing. Maybe it’s a dozen illicit dealings where he needs you to play enforcer— it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s happy.
“Come here,” he orders gently.
You close the rest of the rift between you, letting him reach for you and pull you closer. His knees have spread so you can slot against him, and his arms circle around you— trapping you— as he nuzzles into the warmth of your stomach.
“I’m sorry I called you heartless,” he speaks into you, his voice muffled as he gives you a chaste kiss. He then cranes his head upwards, resting his chin against you so he can profess more clearly: “I do worry about you, kitten.”
“I know—” your hands move to his head— “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
“Mmm,” he hums in accordance, maybe even forgiveness, and his eyes close as your fingers card through the soft of his hair. “I lied too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he confesses on a contented sigh. “I didn’t want to spend today… boxing.”
“What do you want to do today, Sy?”
His eyes flicker open and his hands find your hips. “What I really want…” he contemplates, as his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt to rub circles on your skin, “is to take care of you.”
There are lifetimes of need in his gaze.
“Won’t you let me take care of you, sweetie?”
…
“If he finds the terms so disagreeable, then he’s more than welcome to take his business elsewhere. Although—” Sylus’s voice is cold— “he might find his other options less… amenable than when he saw them last. Less communicative, too. You can tell him I said so.”
He ends the phone call. Smiles. “Sorry about that, sweetie.”
“Are the boys ok?”
The smile widens, even though you can’t see it. “They’re fine.”
Phone set aside, Sylus carries on with the important business Kieran’s call had distracted him from. You’re half asleep, your head in his lap as he brushes your hair: rose-scented and soft from the bath he’d drawn for you, hours ago. Every bandage is fresh and clean. Every ache has been dulled with a lazy massage and more chaste kisses, for good measure.
“Perfect day,” you mumble blissfully.
“Perfect day,” Sylus agrees.
#🖋rach is actually writing#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#rafayel x reader#sylus x reader#love and deepspace#lads x reader#lads x mc#shen xinghui#li shen#qi yu#qin che#lads#lnds#l&ds
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[ ♥︎ ] ── drunkenly in love | lhs.
in which heeseung comes to you with stupid smiles, slurred words ‘nd with tipsy thoughts of you.
content : fem reader , fluff , intoxication , drunk hee! , petnames , wc. 811 , minimal proofread . hes a lil bit clingy & a loser but hes charming ! ><
notes. videos of heeseung giggling while drunk is actually cute like omg i will bite u
“hi, baby.”
heeseung smiles at you like you have just saved the world and frankly, maybe you did in another universe—maybe you did not, either way heeseung adores you with any shape or form that he could muster up.
and his smile is contagious, muttering off into the night his eyes fluttering as he shift his weight on his right leaning to the door frame of your home with jay beside him on his left assisting him in fear of him falling on his own weight.
jay smiles apologetically, “the guys kept giving him drinks. he kept losing in the game, to be honest.” he says as he tries to keep your boyfriend upright. “sorry, yn. he kept saying he should see you and he wouldn’t stop whining.”
you crinkle at the thought, “it’s okay. thank you for bringing him home safe.” you waved off. “you should go, i’m pretty sure jake is vomiting out.. the window?”
you hear a curse leaving from his mouth, panicking as he looks back into the car.
“shit. i’m really sorry, again. gotta get those guys home.” he sighs exasperatedly.
a giggle escapes you, bidding the man goodbyes and a well safe travel. taking heeseung from his arms and from your door frame, your boyfriend drapes himself over you. a strong smell of liquor comes from him, making you scrunch away a little from the scent. he hums from the contact instantly melting over you.
“you smell so good,” he muttered, nuzzling into your head. “i’ve missed you, pretty.”
“you got pretty drunk, huh?” a lilt in your tone tells him you’re not all too mad at him. not really finding any reason to do so, you figured he deserves to loosen up a little bit and have fun with the guys.
he only nods thoughtlessly, dragging himself inside your home all the way to your shared bedroom with you by his side. he plops down the mattress as he lays there smacking his lips and frowning trying to relieve the reeling of his head.
“i should get you some water. stay here, ‘seungie.” untangling yourself from him, you stand making your way outside, but not even a step forward a hand wraps up to your wrist forcing you to stay on your spot.
“where are you going?” he looks a little like a lost deer under the warm lights, his eyes sharing the same shine. “don’t go.” a pout resides on his lips as he tries to keep himself up from the bed.
“i’m just getting you water, you need to stay hydrated, hee.” you try to reason with him.
“‘m fine, just stay here.” he tugs you to him.
you try to resist, standing your ground into getting him some water, but his grip on you only stays as you move some more.
in your endeavor of keeping your boyfriend hydrated has somehow ended up with you losing your balance and him dragging you to lay by his side of the bed with his arms encased around you. you huffed, accepting your faith and would have to get him something in the morning (you can only trust that jay has already took care of him and managed to get him to drink something other than alcohol in his system.)
heeseung hums pleased, feeling your body against his as the night descends upon his mind and eyes. a semblance of comfort takes him with your warmth that he recognizes. admitting defeat you let yourself be engulfed with heeseung’s embrace.
it’s quiet.
but you don’t mind, you bask in it and so does heeseung. his fingers trail over your skin, drawing random patterns of anything just to feel you. the night strolls a little slower now.
“..hey,” heeseung whispers softly.
you grin at him, you couldn’t help it. after all it was heeseung, it was just him, but it was enough for the butterflies finding themselves in your stomach, “hey, you too.”
there was something in the way his cheeks are all in a soft cherry color and that dopey smile that adorns his face whenever he drinks a little too much than he would take, was just endearing to you. and his eyes just flutter more and his face breaks out from adoration—you couldn’t fall just a little more than you already did.
“i love you.” he did so, breathing it as if a prayer he utters every night. “i love you so much— god, you probably have no idea, baby.”
it’s desperation that you yearn just as the same, and maybe the simplicity of it, was everything all at once that was enough for you. your eyes find his once more as they hold sincerity that can rival how deep the ocean can go.
“i love you too, hee.” you whispered just as the same. “more than yesterday, less than tomorrow.”
© haerni 2024 . likes, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated!
#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen#heeseung#enha x reader#* new © ───── haerni.
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