#and either you can keep them or you realize its not for them and they like staying with the prof

[jack-of-heartstrings]

OH HOLY SHIT, ANARKA FANART??? This literally made my morning. I absolutely adore her and I never see this level of appreciation. She looks amazing!!!

I'm not sure about the past stuff, given Crocoduel goes out of its way to make it clear there was some huge miscommunication. It's very likely neither of their stories is quite the truth. But he says their record saved him after she left him, and she says it tore them apart, so it SOUNDS LIKE something might have happened where either they were "taking a break" or he wildly misunderstood her being upset with him as leaving him or something, and she didn't think it was over but he did, and then he went and got famous on his own, and she took it as going behind her back/abandoning her. Or something?

It would... honestly be kind of grimly funny if her pregnancy was directly a factor, too. She has anger issues even now. I could fully imagine her getting worse because early hormones and neither of them realized yet that was why. Either way, given Jagged knew Luka's name and how Anarka adamantly refused to talk about him, I kind of assume it was her choice to be full no-contact. A stubborn "I don't want your money. You made it clear you didn't want to be part of this family and I don't want you around in any capacity." Dumbass goes on to write My Guitar Is My Only Family to vent his feelings about that with no idea his kids will grow up loving the song. 😔

EITHER WAY...

God I love her. Like... One of the writers described her as "the mom everyone wants unless she's yours." She's fascinating to me.

She clearly does still have anger issues, but "your sister and I are the only ones I've never wanted to throw overboard." I still have to imagine that's a big part of why Juleka's so timid and Luka's so emotionally mature. That even if it wasn't aimed at them, Juleka still grew up watching her go off on other people and never wanted to risk adding to her stress. That Luka is like this partly due to learning to watch for times Juleka was holding her tongue, and partly because he himself was more stubborn and abrasive for a while. That Anarka always did her best to keep herself more in check when dealing with the kids but she and Luka still used to get into arguments about things like her refusing to disclose any information about their dad, leading to him often running off to the bridge to calm down, like he's mentioned to Marinette. And that learning to accept and process all that has led to his "it's not worth it" and walking away faster from arguments now.

I still imagine she's always done her best and succeeded for the most part. She supports the kids in everything they want to do. I've been a little feral over the cameo in Sublimation showing her teaching music and fully want to believe that's been her job for a long time, in other schools, because yeah that makes sense. Turning her passion into a more mundane job that helps other people... And that makes Luka's dream of not being a musician but giving other people the gift of music in another way that much better. 🥹

Also?

Her name is Anarka Couffaine. LIKE... It can be loosely translated as "Anarchy of the coffin" (/"from the grave"?) AND it's a pun on acouphène / "tinnitus". I am 1,000% convinced this woman as a musician gave herself the edgiest stage name imaginable, legally changed it, and then just casually passed that name onto her kids. Her name was probably like, Nancy or something. (Anything "less cool" could work but that one could explain Jagged calling her Nanarky.) She just straight up went "I make my own rules" and then she did forever.

Also the Liberty is just insanely cool on its own. Delighted that it immediately became the designated Hangout Spot from its introduction onward as it should. Anarka just letting twenty kids casually come and go at all hours like. God I love her.

Young Anarka

I dunno… Like

Her past intrigued me the most out of all the adult characters, and I can't understand her mix with Jagged. Like, he cheated on her and she got pregnant? They had an open relationship? Or did they only share intimacy? Why did she never tell her kids about their father? And why didn't their father pay child support lmao…

[sunrisecaminus]

hello! May I request reader getting sandwiched between optimus prime and megatron? Really want these two giants to fight over reader :>

Message - This is such a funny yet cute idea. I didn't know if this was NSFW or not so I just did NSFW. I also thought this was suppose to be Cybertronian reader so sorry if you wanted the reader to be a human!

Megatron x Reader x Optimus NSFW

Summary - Megatron and Optimus fight over their Cybertronian Girlfriend who honestly probably saved Cybertron and Earth from these two bumbling morons.

Warning - NSFW, Threesome

Megatron and Optimus ended the war because you told them that you wouldn't chose who to date unless they ended it and even if they did, you would still choose both. They had to realize that their options were to either not have you in their lives or bend to your will…so that is how the 4 million year war ended. You were a rogue that lived throughout the entire war and helped either side when you knew they needed help. Optimus fell in love with your mysterious figure and only saw you far away for years until he finally was able to talk to you. Both of you connected, but you told him that the Autobots weren't people you wanted to be with. You visited him a lot and tried to give him as many supplies as they needed until the Autobots came to earth. Megatron was the same, but he wanted his soldiers to find you for himself to know your mysterious life. He was going to kill you when you told him that you weren't going to be a Decepticon…but goodness did you give the soldiers so many supplies. Honestly, if it wasn't for you, both sides would've died from starvation and you never told them where you got your cubes. When both realized that they had a crush on the same person, they fought for you and that is when you told them to end the war or you would leave them for good.

Now its years after the war, you are dating both of them and it can get interesting. Most of the time you visit them separately, but thankfully they have gotten use to each other and are able to stay in the same room without killing each other. You are right now cooking something and letting it boil, when you feel your hips being grabbed by sharp claws. "Y/n…" Ah, its Megs. Sighing, you reach your arm from behind and grab his faceplate as a greetings, rubbing his cheek. You are right now busy with making something and so you don't say anything and just keep stirring. "Cybertron has reach 50% of being restored. My underling have cleaned 3 full cities and are now ready to start building." He knew telling you about his achievements get him awarded, which he does because you turn your head over to kiss him on the cheek. You put the lid on the pot and walk away from his grasp, going to the shelf and grabbing a book. You never told them, but the reason why you had so much Energon was because you found a specific recipe created by Nexus Prime which if you boil certain ingredients together, it could make a Mock Energon that can do the same effects as Energon, but doesn't have the pure energon inside. You just put a certain food coloring in it to make it look like Energon so the two idiots wouldn't fight for the recipe from you. As you get to the book shelf, you feel a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you see Optimus looking down at you with a smile. "Good Evening y/n. We were able to find another Energon mine and started already working on harvesting it."

You smile at him and before you could say congratulations to him, you feel someone press up behind you. "Prime if you insist on trying to win her over, it is my turn for visitations so frag off." Oh no, of course Megatron finds a way to start an argument. Optimus narrows his eyes and steps a bit closure. "We can both visit her at the same time, we don't have a specific time in place." Honestly, you were willing to just not say anything and watch the action happen…you were bored anyway.

This argument lasted for a long 15 minutes. You had no idea they could go for this long without fighting, but it was probably you were in between them. You had the back of your helm leaning on Megatron's chassis while Optimus' body was pressing up against yours. Your face was flushed and did not complain about the position you were in. Their voices were now being muffled by your brain as you stare at Optimus' faceplate. Your mind started to wonder and stare at every inch of your autobot boyfriend, than you started feeling your back hitting Meg's chassis. Finally, leaving your blurring vision, you finally were starting to get annoyed by the two bots and just now want to take the time to get to know them more. Finally, you speak for the first time today. "Hush". Both at the same time quite what they were saying and stared down at you…listening for their angel to say something. "I am tired of both of the squabble, as punishment I want both of you to take my body tonight." Optimus' optics widen and his faceplate flushes a bit. Megatron was a bit surprised as well, but doesn't show his emotion with his face. "Y/n, you really wanna-?" Optimus gets interrupted by Megatron, who smirks and gets an evil idea. "What? If you don't want to, than I can just go ahead and taint her myself." This gives Optimus a bit of confidence, he glares…though he excepts the challenge his old enemy gives him.

They take you to your birth room in the base, setting the blanket aside and let you sit on Megatron's lap. Your aft sits against Megatron's panel, which makes you blush a little from the position. Optimus gets in front of you and caresses your cheek. "Tell us when you want to stop." He cared about his lovely fem. Anything you tell him to do, he would obey no matter what. Megatron was surprisingly the same, just in a more violent way. Just make a motion or a word, and Megs would eliminate anyone for you in seconds. You were the one who saved them from their own arrogance and ego…so they gift you everything you deserve. Optimus starts to make out with you, laying his servos on your stomach. Megatron on the other hand, bites your neck and massages your tibulens (thighs). You relax your body and let them do all the work. Honestly you didn't care what they did to you, it has been a while since you have been touched and needed them to fill your spark with love. Megatron sees that Optimus has taken your mouth, so he goes to get you to pay attention to him. He guides his hands over to your panel and opens up to your valve. You knew it was over when you started to feel him rubbing your folds with his fingers. Arching your back, you moan in Optimus' mouth, which made him see what Megs was doing…oh no you realized the reality you put yourself in. Optimus takes this as a challenge and goes for French kissing. His glossa meets yours, making you moan sweetly from the loving feeling. The feeling of both your mouth being used and your valve being played with made everything better. Maybe you can give them both motivation, so you put one servo behind you and open Megatron's panel. He clenched his teeth and breathes a bit heavier when you start to rub his spike. With your leg you press against Optimus' panel, moving your leg around so he feels the friction on his spike as well. Both of them stop what they were doing and moan in different tones, feeling the lovely touch you were giving them. Optimus felt a bit weak already, he was a sensitive mech and moaned with nothing but great love in his voice. Megs on the other hand was trying not to give in to the pleasure already, knowing he would be seen as sensitive as well if he made any noise. His groans sounded like he was holding it in, deep and cold. Optimus could not believe the predicament he was in. Bowing his head down to you like you just defeated him…but he couldn't force himself to care. He loved feeling like everything was in your hands, like he just shoved some of him responsibility towards you…and you took it like it was nothing. "Touch yourself…" Your voice was sharp yet soft. All the Prime could do at that moment was listen, as he pops his panel open and jacks himself off in front of your eyes. You hear a soft chuckle from Megs, but before Optimus could hear it, you clench around Megs shaft with your servo and he jolts from the pressure you just gave him. "Ah!" Megatron could not believe it worked, not only you got him to shut up, but now he was moaning from the pleasure.

After a few minutes, you take your time lining your aft up for Megatron's spike and start to go down. You widen your valve over to Optimus, who is a blushing mess from you watching his every move with your unblinking optics. "Come here." Optimus perks up from your voice and sees you giving him permission. He comes a bit closure to put his spike right at your entrance. You were ready to start doing some work and gave them a dance they will never forget. You went up and down on both their spikes as they both groaned from how tight you were. Nothing could prepare them for such an amazing feeling as your hot walls hugged both their shafts nicely. Your moans were so nice to hear and both of them honestly forgot the other was in the birth room. Loving the attention you are giving them, they both felt at thought they needed to release as you knew it was time for them to finish. Putting yourself down fully for you to take in both their spikes whole, made them release inside of you. Megatron grabs your upper stomach while Optimus grabbed your legs to hold on to something while you took both their fluids inside of you. After everything calmed down, you lay yourself down on the bed with both of them between you still. Optimus to your left hugged you in a loving embrace while Megatron kept his hand cupped around your helm. You couldn't help, but smile at them. Finally…you were able to get them to shut up.

[writingsfromhome]

Unspoken Signals

A/N: reaaaallly tried to get this out for v-day. It’s been a while, I’m a bit rusty, but this is a quick fic w Harry and you as coworkers and a casual something else. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

—————————————————————-

“Well this is different,” I comment.

Before me sits a dozen children and they’re all very quiet. It’s music to my ears after the last hour.

“I didn’t know kids could even do yoga.”

“You didn’t know kids could stretch?” I raise a brow.

“The meditating part,” Harry clarifies. “I didn’t know they could quiet their minds and their demon mouths.”

I laugh softly and turn back to the kids. A couple are starting to get restless, peeking one eye open or scratching their noses—picking them more like. But it’s nice for the few minutes.

Both Harry and I worked at an art museum that had recently lost some of its funding and had decided to open up revenue streams by introducing “kids fun weekends”. So despite having zero training in early education, staff at the museum found ourselves having to look after children and host workshops from time to time.

So far we’d been volun-told to help with a crafts day, a movie night, wellness day, and an upcoming museum sleepover.

And I was so not being paid enough to deal with hyperactive children.

“Why do kids even need a wellness workshop?” Harry continues to whisper back to me. “They’ve got stressful jobs or something? Bloody put me on one and let me go home.”

“Anyone can experience stress Har,” I roll my eyes. Harry was one of those people who didn’t care about being politically correct when he spoke. Which led to a lot of bickering between us that most of our coworkers had gotten used to.

“The stress of any of these kids does not bloody compare to the stress of an adult.”

“Don’t be such an ageist,” I reply.

“Ageist? What the fuck,” he swears. “Do you just put a word in front of -ist and create a new prejudice?”

I gasp and hold his shoulder, “prejudice? Where did you learn such a large word?”

“Now you’re just being a word-ist,” Harry says smugly.

I snort despite myself, “And you’ve always been a prick.”

“Piss off,” Harry whispers. “This is unfair.”

We stand in silence, forced to do our job of keeping watch over the kids. But as they grow more agitated and so does Harry, I realize I really didn’t want to be here either.

“Well have you seen the new fake-Monet collection?” I ask.

It wasn’t actually fake-Monet. It was a local artist we were hosting in our community gallery that showcased…local artists. The first piece we ever saw hung up looked like a Monet so we took to calling him that.

“No. Not after that first forgery.”

“Wanna ditch this and check it out?”

“Fuck yes.” Harry’s eyes finally draw some life to them.

We leave our two other coworkers to deal with freshly-meditated children and sneak away.

The art museum wasn’t a large building; the ground floor was taken up by the open lobby, offices, the gift shop, and some of the more permanent exhibits. The second floor had revolving galleries and the community gallery sat on the third floor.

“D’you think anyone’s actually going to buy the guy’s fakes?” Harry asks.

“Probably,” I jam the button for the lift. “I saw a couple more pieces and they were beautiful.”

“You find any piece of art beautiful.”

“Well they are! It’s easy to find beauty in a lot of things if you’re not a prick.”

The lift arrives and the doors open; the reflection inside show a tall curly-haired annoyed bloke. Walking in with him is a shorter girl, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not a prick.” He looks down at me. “I just have standards.”

Suddenly in the enclosed space of the lift we’re gravitating towards each other like we tended to do. I smile up at him sweetly and he tsks and pushes me away by my chin; a conversation taking place with just our eyes.

The thing with Harry and me—because it was just a thing we didn’t label, was simple: we liked being around each other (despite being able to get on each other’s nerves).

We kinda just orbited each other and we were comfortable with it; some days he would follow me home and we’d hang out, get dinner, sleep together, and other nights I’d show up at his and we’d fold right into one another.

It was fun, and it felt cool not to label it. It felt very adult, like Harry and I were mature enough to appreciate the other in every aspect without being possessive enough to need to label it. Like somehow we were proving just how secure we were by doing it like this.

“You just like being judgemental,” I say and as the doors open onto the third floor I turn to walk out. “Because you’re an idiot.”

Outside stand at older couple who’ve definitely heard the last bit. I apologize and pray they don’t complain to anyone about the staff.

“Very unprofessional,” Harry goads as he laughs. “Do you harass all the elderly at the museum.”

“Shut up!” I shove him against the wall and he stumbles down.

“Oi!” He calls out as I walk away. “Oi! Help me up!”

“Help yourself!” I finally turn. He’s sprawled on the ground like this was his bedroom—because I’d seen the inside of his bedroom I would know. But he stays for so long I hurry back, not wanting anyone to walk past and get us in trouble for laying in the middle of the hall.

“I knew you’d come,” he smiles sweetly, his large hand in the air ready for me to grip.

“C’mon—“

I see it coming too late and he’s already trapped me in. He pulls me forward and I stumble into him, nearly catching myself on the wall. Nearly. I tumble into him instead.

“Grow up!” I scramble off of him as quick as I could. Because the one unspoken rule in this thing between us was staying nothing but platonic coworkers at work.

And that was the other thing about us—this unlabelled situation we were in. That as casual as we appeared there was a lot of orchestrating going on behind the scenes in order to be this nonchalant.

For example, only touching outside of work, not asking about dates the other went out on the weekend before, like saying you’re funny and where’ve you been when it’s been a while so as not to say I really like you and I want to be around you more and when you’re not around I miss you more than an unlabelled half should. Like getting drunk when I spot him at a club with another girl so I can continue to convince myself I really didn’t care all that much.

It was just Harry. At most we were just friends.

“This is me grown up,” Harry catches up to me. He can sense I’m annoyed and maybe he’s crossed a line so he lingers slightly behind.

I ignore him as I push the glass door into the gallery. This was one of my favourite spaces because of the large windows and views of the garden below planted by friends of the museum.

But mostly I loved it because it was a revolving door of local artists and it reminded me that everyone had a story to tell. And every story was beautiful.

“Don’t cry this time,” Harry whispers to me as he walks down the gallery to the far end.

“It was one time,” I mumble. That I actually cried. Usually I just teared up.

I couldn’t help it though, there was so much meaning and time put into these pieces. So much love and grief and every emotions on the spectrum. And I felt it all.

I decide I’d stop calling the artist fake-Monet because with a few more paintings I began to recognize his own signature style. He paints about personal community and finding it in public spaces—pockets around London.

“Hey look at this one,” Harry says when I’m a few pieces away. I walk over.

It’s unmistakably Hampstead Heath, the park a half hour walk from here and 15 from Harry’s place. It’s where we spent a lazy summer day a month or so ago. We were both free on the Saturday, our calendars opening up. I met Harry at his and we’d trekked through the hazy city to feel the cool breeze of the sturdy trees and the splash of the water. Despite the stickiness, we’d tucked into each other and pretended the shade was enough to keep us cool—enough to be so close. We read our book, took a summer nap, ate our picnic, and chatted about the rest of our lives. Passerbys would see two friends, or maybe two something-mores.

It’s only when the sun slinked down towards the horizon did we pack up. We walked back to his flat, took a shower together. We had dinner with his friends. It had been such a beautiful day I had ached with it because I knew how temporary it was.

But how perfect it had been. It had felt bigger than us.

Harry pointing it out toes that line again; he remembered it too, as something to reference. As something to compare to the beautiful richness of the tapestry before us—lavenders and lilacs, pinks and blues, sage, and dusty hues.

“Beautiful,” I murmur. We’re standing shoulder to shoulder now, I can’t tell who’s leaning on who.

“It…actually is.” Harry says in a hushed voice back. “I’m sorry fake-Monet that I doubted you.”

I look up at him in surprise, Harry rarely changed his mind. “Actually?”

“Yeah.” He looks down at me. “I think I get it.”

The expression in his eyes as he says this, as they fill with meaning, I have to look away. But the painting doesn’t help. It’s too full of my own meaning. Our meaning.

But there was no our.

“Wow.” I straighten up and move closer. “Look at that blending. And the details those are actually people.”

“They’ve all got their own shadow too.” Harry moves closer towards me again. He points it out.

“I’m gonna go look for shadows in the others.” I chirp just so I can get away. So I can keep denying.

A few hours later, the day is giving to nightfall. I badge out with Harry and we walk down the steps towards the iron gates.

“See you tomorrow?” I ask.

“I’m not in tomorrow.” He reminds me.

“Oh yeah your parents are in town?”

“Yep,” he fidgets with his phone and we stand in silence for a beat.

“Well I should-“ I say just as he asks, “Would you want to-“

We pause, awkward laugh. We were never awkward.

“You first,” I urge, wanting to know what he was going to ask.

“No it’s nothing. I should go. Got to clean my flat before my parents see how I live.”

“Don’t forget to hide the rolling papers from your bedside,” I tease. “And the magazines under the bed.”

“Oi I haven’t got magazines under the bed,” he smiles. His dimples make a handsome appearance. “They’re loud and proud on the coffee table now.”

“Except you haven’t got a coffee table.”

“If you know so much about my flat how about you come home with me and help me clean it? You can stay over.”

Come home with me. Casual, so casual.

But I know how calculated it had to be. I’d been there. Somehow I knew this is what he’d been trying to ask in the first place.

“What time are your parents getting in?” I ask.

“They’re early birds. Probably after 8.”

“8? Holy hell.” I swear.

“They want to do breakfast and then take me to visit my grandparents.”

“Right. Yeah well, imagine I’m still not out by the time they show up. That’d be so awkward. And there’s no way in hell I’m getting up before 8.”

His cheeks take on a slight blush. “They’ve…it wouldn’t be the first time they came over to a girl in my bed YN. I’m not 16.”

“I know. But…still awkward.”

“So?”

“I…don’t want them to get the wrong idea. We’ll see each other the day after. You’re working then right?”

My heart squeezes a bit at his crushed look before it’s swapped for happy, for easygoing. “Yep. Can’t get rid of me that quick.”

We part ways, I go mine with a heavy heart.

***

“So,” I check in with Harry at lunch the day he’s back. It had been a hectic day yesterday with a new group of kids and a new workshop to facilitate. Plus someone was quitting after being yelled at and Harry had missed it all so I wanted to update him. “How was your day off.”

“Shite,” he says. We walk a few streets over to a Pret. “Mum and dad wouldn’t stop whinging about my future and about settling down like I’m a fucking balding man in my 50s losing all prospects. I’m only 25!”

“Yeah total bummer having a day off for that,” I comment even though I have a hard time getting my next breath in. I can’t imagine my own parents caring that much about my life to spend a whole day with me talking about it. And what if I had stayed the night and accidentally bumped into them—would they have approved?

Should I even care?

“Then my nan basically told them to piss off but they started filling her head with it and then she’s asking me about any girls I’ve taken on dates lately. Started giving me relationship advice!”

“What was that?” I tease. “Take her on a walk and buy her some flowers? Go star gazing? Movie for 2 quid?”

Harry glances at me and his seriousness throws me off balance a little.

“What?”

He opens his mouth, then shrugs and closes it. “Nothing.”

“Sorry did I offend you?” I try to think of why he might be reacting this way.

“No, she actually did say some pretty old-fashioned shite. But I can take it from her. It’s my parents that drive me nuts.”

“Well I wish you were at work. Want to hear what happened?”

So I change the subject and we talk about what he missed. He’s more subdued today and I don’t read into it. He wasn’t mine to read into, I have to remind myself.

We talk about the gallery sleepover in two weeks, whether we were actually going to come in our PJs. When we get back to work we’re on different floors and I try not to miss him again.

***

“I actually brought mine—the appropriate pair.” My coworker jokes. We’re in the staff kitchen making an afternoon tea. Tonight was the gallery sleepover and I was not looking forward to it. But because I was working it I had the day off tomorrow and at least that was something to look forward to.

“I just brought a ratty tee. I don’t think I’m sleeping anyway.” I say.

“I hate that we got picked for this,” she continues. “I actually don’t even like kids. Why do you think I have none?”

“Well tonight will just be birth-control.”

“Trust me I don’t need it.” She cackles and walks away. My phone buzzes with a text.

Harry: Might be late tonight. cover for me if anyone asks?

Y: ur not even working the day how are u gonna be late?

Harry: got a thing. Just cover pls?

Y: obv

I wonder what was going on with him.

We hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to hang out the last week and work had been too busy to properly catch up. Plus our manager had been putting us on conflicting projects so I really had been missing Harry.

Even though Harry and I were friends there was something about distance and fondness that was proving true lately. And I hated it. So I’d gone on a string of dates this week. Hence my busyness.

I’d gone out on a date a week ago and even though I ended up going back to his place all I wanted to do was text Harry. Ask him if he was up, what he was doing. I’d forced myself to shut my phone so I wouldn’t be tempted.

After we close the doors to the public that evening we begin setting up for the kids’ sleepover. It’s so hectic nobody notices Harry’s late but he slides right in helping me string the lights in our biggest gallery. We work on the projectors next, I yap to him for 10 minutes straight and he barely replies. He’d been quiet since he got here.

And for the next few hours Harry and I entertain and help children have fun, we put on a fancy puppet show loosely based on famous artists—art projections included.

We sneak away to the kitchen after we take our bow for a tea break.

“Wouldn’t happen to have a flask on ya?” Harry sighs as he strains his tea bag.

“God I wish,” I stare into the dark abyss of my earl gray. That performance had really taken it out of me. “Who d’you think’s most likely to have something stashed away?”

“Well,” Harry yawns like he hadn’t slept all week and points to an upper cabinet. “Behind the cleaning stuff.”

“What?!” I gasp. “Seriously?”

“Well last time I saw it was last Christmas. Probably got some alcoholics here. I dunno if the stash is still there.”

“Well this is naughty,” I find a couple travel-sized liquor bottles like the kind you get on planes. I take one so that somebody else can have the delight of the other.

Harry sticks his mug out and I empty half the bottle, doing the same to mine.

“Make sure it’s covered,” he advises when I throw it in the bin. I shake it around until I can’t see it.

“Much better,” I cheers my mug to his. He catches my eye and it feels like we’re co-conspirators again. I pass a smile that’s only half-returned. “So what’s the deal with you?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t look up from his drink.

“I’ve barely seen you all week. And you’re late tonight. And you look haggard as hell.”

He shrugs, “I’ve been helping one of my mates out with moving out of his girlfriend’s. They broke up. He’s a mess so…”

“Oh.” I wasn’t expecting that. “That’s kind of you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Do I?” I widen my eyes.

“Piss off.”

He cracks with a smile—a full Harry smile and I feel my heart beaming just to soak it in.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” I ask tentatively. I knew he had the day off too.

“Uhm,” cagey Harry returns. “Maybe. I’m not too sure right now.”

“Ah okay.”

We sip in silence that threatens to smother us. I get up as quickly as I can without wasting my precious drink.

“I’m gonna head back out.”

“Alright.”

I head back to the star-lit room where sleeping bags are laid out like mismatched brick throughout the floor. Some kids are cozied within, others sit on top. They’re all engrossed in the “bedtime story” being told by a local author.

It’s sweet, I think. This would become a core memory for a lot of these kids, drinking in the whole night through all their senses. I wish I had more memories like this. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so fragile all the time.

Adults staying overnight got their own gallery blankets and I drag one over to the far end, enough for any kid who needed assistance could find me but far away that I could be on my phone and not distract them.

Some time later another body joins me with his own blanket.

“Sorry,” Harry says as he sits.

“For what?” I play pretend. Just like these kids were doing tonight. What could you possibly be saying sorry for? What could I possibly feel entitled to you for? We’re just friends.

“For being weird earlier. I…well I have to tell you something and I’m being weird instead.”

My heart begins to thump in my chest.

“Tell me what?”

“So I’ve um…I’ve got a-“ Harry clears his throat. I glance up at him and he’s looking out towards the ceiling. “I have a girlfriend. I know we…we’re not…”

“Jeez Har,” even though ever atom inside of me is keeling over with something I can’t exactly examine yet, I play the joker. The friend. “If this is you telling me you’re getting serious with someone that’s all you have to say.”

“Really?” He turns to me and on the shiny hardwood floor so does half his body. I ignore how his knees feel pressing into mine. “You’re…okay?”

His voice is anything but casual.

“Yeah! It’s not like we’re a thing.”

Even still, I can’t say it. I die a little more.

“Yeah well I wasn’t expecting it. She’s the daughter of someone my dad knows? Pretty sure they orchestrated it but we went on a couple dates and then she asked…well she wanted to be exclusive I…”

“Well that’s good. For you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“Thank god,” the air whooshes out of his lungs.

“I feel like I should be offended. You thought I was going to be mad or something?”

“No not mad…” he trails off. I look at his reaction and find him looking at me already. Even though it’s dark I can still see his eyes and they feel like they’re reading everything on my face. In a hushed tone he repeats himself, “not mad.”

I shrug, biting my lip hard to feel something other than the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Emotions I never thought would surface this strongly.

“I’m good. Actually I’m not good. I think that bottle we found was rubbish I’ve got to go toilet—“ I use his knee to pull myself up. “Save my spot.”

I walk away without sparing a glance back because my act is crumbling. I’m crumbling. And I don’t understand it.

If you asked me two weeks ago I would have gone on how fun it was to be with Harry but how the idea of being with him seriously would be weird. Would throw off our balance. But now I want to puke my guts in the toilet at the idea of having to let him go. Because he’s the one who moved on.

And as hard as I try tears still escape my lashline and make trails down my cheeks as I study myself in the brightly lit mirror. How could I be mad when we were just casual? How could I hate him if all he did was look for something serious. Someone serious.

Suddenly what had felt fun and mature feels childish and disposable.

I was disposable fun.

“Get it the fuck together,” I tell myself. “You’ve got nothing to cry over. You could get yourself a boyfriend too. He’s not your soulmate or something jeez.”

I blow my nose and give myself another pep talk before exiting the toilets back to where Harry waits for me.

“You alright?” He asks. A loaded question.

“Yeah. Regret doing this for the whole night though.”

“You could sleep. I’ll take first shift.”

“I’ll get in trouble.”

“Who gives a shit,” Harry tugs me so that I fall against his shoulder and it’s the worst thing in the world.

I don’t curl my arm through his like I might’ve before. Or cozy into his chest. I stay there like a stiff robot until sleep takes me. Even then it’s not long enough.

—1 month later—

I’m heading home after an uneventful day, ready to sink into bed and turn my brain off. These days my brain talked too much and I really wish there was an on/off switch for it.

“Um hiya?” A soft voice says as I exit the turnstile in the lobby. I turn towards the voice and it belongs to a sweet looking girl about my age with harsh features softened by a layered bob. On me it would look ridiculous but she looks like she was born to rock the style she was in.

“Hi,” the rule of thumb was even though you were clocked out if you exited from the lobby in work clothes and somebody stopped you, you had to help them. I’d forgotten to tuck my badge away today damnit.

“I’m waiting for someone? He hasn’t been answering his texts I was just wondering if-“

“You could ask reception?” I point to the desk behind her. “They can page who you need.”

“They weren’t really helpful,” she shrugs. “I’m assuming you work with him? Harry?”

It’s the last name I’m expecting from her lips. I nearly stumble back trying to take her in again with the new knowledge of who she might be.

“H-Harry?”

I’d heard her the first time. I’m just trying to grasp at a second to collect myself.

This must be his girlfriend. The one who wanted to be exclusive. And I hated that I’d liked her in our two minute interaction.

He hadn’t spoken much about her since he told me a month ago but since half of our relationship before her was being intimate, we barely talked and when we did it was mostly just work and the relationship felt really fragile and rough.

I could see what Harry saw in her—she was attractive. And not pushy; she let Joey at reception push her around which was hard to do. And she was meeting Harry here, at work. It must be getting serious.

All these thoughts race through my mind in a millisecond.

“Oh! Harry yeah,” I nod when she confirms. “Of course I know him. I think he was in a meeting might be why…I can go back in and check if you-“

“Oh no! Sorry I’m not trying to be a bother. You’re probably going home I just wanted to make sure he was still in?”

“Yeah! Yeah he’s in. I’ll tell Joey—reception, to page him if he’s out. He’s nicer than he seems.”

“That’d be perf,” she beams. I die a little more, unsure why I was helping her this much. Unsure why it bothered me this much.

Ever since Harry had ended the thing we didn’t have, my life had felt haunted. The ghosts of every emotion I killed in the moments we’d been together began to surface and they were torture. Biggest of all was regret and shame. Regret over what could have been if I’d just admitted how deeply I felt months ago. Shame because I wasn’t supposed to feel this way for Harry. Because he obviously didn’t feel the same way, he never would, and it would be embarrassing to ever admit it.

Our actual relationship had gone like this after that night—avoidance -> awkward small talk -> light bantering -> finally, being able to talk semi-normally again.

We stopped hanging out outside of work however, so every day I got to see him was a day I was excited to go into work. My friends told me I had to do something about it—confess and see what he says, or move on.

And I’d tried to move on. But every guy I tried to date didn’t hold a candle to the flame that warmed my heart; to the idiot I had the misfortune of falling for after we ended things.

Or maybe I was just the idiot.

And here I was self-sabotaging by helping his girlfriend. There was definitely something wrong with me.

“Elsie!”

Both our heads turn to the voice.

“There he is,” I say but she’s already squeezing my arm and walking towards him. Harry doesn’t realize I’m standing there and I watch him smile at her in a way that sends a spike to my heart. Then he notices me.

“Oh YN,” his eyelids flutter a few times too many. “Uh-“

“YN god sorry I didn’t even get your name,” Elsie turns back to me. “YN was helping me.”

“Yeah? Thanks,” Harry looks visibly relieved and flashes me a grin. I raise my brows and smile back.

Home. I had to get home.

“Well I figured Har already had a hard time finding a girlfriend, I didn’t want him to lose her so quickly. This isn’t even a very big place.”

Harry’s expression is unreadable but Elsie laughs.

“Very funny,” Harry responds.

“I know.” I gear myself up to say bye. “Well I’ll see you tomorrow, let you get to wherever you’re going. It was nice-“

“Well we’re just hanging out with some friends,” Elsie says.

“YN knows a few of them,” Harry says. I watch his eyes bug a little as he realizes he’s stepped onto a minefield and watch him back away smoothly. “Some of the younger crew go out for drinks sometimes.”

“Ah,” Elsie says as Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder from behind. He was laying it on thick but I don’t think Elsie noticed his hiccup. “Well why doesn’t she come!? YN you should join us! One more friend!”

“Oh I don’t think she wants to-“

“I was honestly just gonna go ho-“

I stop talking the same time Harry does.

“No you should!” Elsie says. “Don’t listen to Harry.”

I catch his eye and they’re saying please don’t.

Don’t tell me what to do, mine say.

Don’t be stubborn.

Challenge accepted.

“Ok! Maybe one drink.” I say as Harry huffs. It felt dangerous, having a non-verbal conversation in front of his girlfriend.

I was an idiot, I confirm. An idiot making bad decisions.

“Yay! Let’s go.” Elsie takes Harry’s hand and drags him to the front door. I nearly laugh at his face as he’s dragged past me—he was mad.

And it comes out a couple hours later. By then I’d had more than a single drink, have befriended most of the people I don’t know at the table and have caught up with those I do know. Harry had been mostly attached by the hip to Elsie and I tried not to stare daggers at it.

They’re an interesting couple, you can tell Harry is distracted most of the night and she tries to accommodate by being around and talking to him. He leaves a hand on her at all times but she doesn’t wrap herself around him the way I used to. Maybe she wasn’t touchy.

Maybe I was being obsessive.

So I distract myself with everyone, with drink, with a particularly cute boy who introduced himself as Elsie’s uni friend. Who happened to be brother’s with Harry’s old flatmate. Small worlds.

“YN,” Harry tugs my sleeve as Grant and I talk—if you can call heavy flirting just talking.

“What?!” I snap after the tugging gets aggressive.

“I need to talk,” He points to himself and then me, “to you.”

I could see he was well past tipsy. It wasn’t often Harry drank to this point so I follow him to find out what was going on.

I follow him to a patio table that had just been vacated, empty glasses littering the surface. An untouched shot sits in the middle. The tableau tells a story—art was everywhere.

“What?” I ask.

“What’re you doing?”

“What am I?” I laugh. “What are you doing? I think you’ve had a few drinks too many mate.”

“You’ve got drinks,” he replies.

“Yeah…” I look back at the half finished drink I left at the bar. “I did have more than I thought. I feel like I drink a lot more when there’s a lot of people around? Otherwise I’m just nursing my drink-“

“Why did you decide to come out tonight? When you’ve met my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

“When I’ve…what?! Your girlfriend invited me no thanks to you.”

“Yeah but you never come out anymore. And suddenly you want to come out when Elsie asks?”

“What d’you mean I never come out anymore?”

Harry sighs. “You stopped hanging out.”

“Yeah because you got a girlfriend? You stopped inviting me out!”

“No what? No! You’re always…it’s an open invitation I don’t need to specifically invite you out I-“

“So why did you invite me specifically before?” I call him out, feeling more sober than I was a few minutes ago. “You stopped inviting me. We stopped hanging out. And so I stopped inviting you when I went out cuz I thought you had a girl and I didn’t want to make it complicated I-“

My voice catches on an unfiltered emotion and I want to die. I feel heat creep up my cheeks as I try to swallow it down and hope Harry doesn’t notice. Fuck!

“Anyway your girlfriend invited me so I came! It’s not a big deal.”

“I didn’t…” Harry scratches his nose and looks uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to stop. I…it was complicated and I-“

“It’s fine. Whatever Har.”

“It’s not,” his brows come together. “Obviously s’not. I’m sorry? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel…”

I almost laugh at what he’s said and how it sounds: I didn’t mean to make you feel. Well, neither did I.

“Yeah whatever. I’m not mad about it.”

“Sorry.” He says instead.

“Thanks,” I clear my throat for good measure, not wanting to be too emotional. I want to tell him I missed him but I don’t think it would be appropriate.

“I thought-“ he breaks off with a laugh. “Nevermind.”

“What?” I push him lightly. “You know I hate when people don’t finish their thought. It’s going to drive me crazy—what?”

“No this one you won’t like. Nevermind.”

“Tell meee,” I poke his shoulder until he slaps my hand away.

“Stop that! I hate when you do that!”

“I know.” I say smugly. “So?”

“It’s stupid. I thought you came here to annoy me or something. And then you’re practically sitting in Grant’s lap…”

He’s right. I wouldn’t like it.

“Hold on,” I bring my hand down on the table. “You thought I was flirting with Grant to annoy you? Why would I-what!?”

“Like I said,” he doesn’t make eye contact. “It was stupid. Nevermind!”

“No it’s not nevermind. You don’t drive what decisions I make in my love life.” Lie. “Got that?”

“Jeez you can’t get angry after forcing me to say!”

“I can!”

“Can you quit bitching I don’t have time for this.”

“I’ll be as big of a bitch as I want to be.” I cross my arms.

“Unfortunately, I know.”

“That’s a completely stupid thought to have-“

“Surely not all your thoughts are winners. That’s why you don’t say all of them.” Harry says, then laughs. “Actually you do. And I always have the displeasure of hearing all of them.”

My jaw drops. “It’s like you’re purposely saying the stupidest shit right now. Like you want to be a prick.”

“C’mon you little shite,” Harry tugs my arm until they uncross. “I’m joking, remember jokes?”

I want to say something snippy, tell him off, but as my arms fall away his hand slides down until the tips of our fingers brush. It makes me feel touch-starved, like I’d been isolated in the woods for the last two months growing crazy for human touch.

Harry senses the shift and his smile dies down, his throat bobbing up and down.

How was it that Harry, out of every man I’ve ever met and continue to meet, has this effect on me? How can one touch quiet my mind so completely while pushing my heart into overdrive.

Why, I want to ask the universe. Why was it this man in front of me that made me feel so intensely?

“YN,” he says.

I should pull away. I should because his fingers creep further now pressing into my palm. I want them to slide higher until they’re tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. I wanted him closer.

“I missed you,” it comes stumbling out. And the shock of it pulls me out of whatever trance I just found myself in.

I pull my hand away and Harry straightens up, his gaze clearing too.

“Sorry.” My heart is in my throat now. “Sorry. I didn’t—that was inappropriate. I’m gonna go back now…”

“Wait,” he calls out as I head back to Grant knowing my heart wasn’t in it anymore. That I was going home.

“Hm?” I try to blink away the shame as I turn back towards him.

“D-do you…regret anything?”

I raise a brow and he flushes. I was making this torture for both of us but I wanted him to ask.

Stupidly, I wanted him to know.

“Between us. I know we never…we’re just friends. But did you ever regret…us?”

I shake my head. “No. No. Never. It was some of the best times.”

It’s like I’ve said the wrong thing. His face falls and I decide I had to go. Had to. I was afraid what else might be spilled out between us.

I don’t even remember what I tell Grant, just that I grab any of my belongings that I can spot, ask him to throw his number into my phone, and hightail it out. And I nearly make it to the tube when a warm hand grips my arm.

“Get off—oh!” I nearly whack Harry with my purse but he ducks anyway. “What the fuck Har!?”

“Sorry. Sorry sorry!” He lets me go and I miss his warmth. “I didn’t realize!”

“Yeah! You can’t just grab a woman at night like that!”

“Obviously! I wasn’t thinking! I was just trying to get to you-“

“Why?”

“Bloody hell you know why YN!”

I stare at him. His face doesn’t hide a single thought, a single emotion. It’s vulnerable, and terrifying.

“Don’t take the piss.” He grabs my arms and gives me a shake. “You know. You know.”

“I-don’t do this. Har, you have a girlfriend. I don’t want to be that girl ok?”

“Why?”

“Why? Because that’s awful and-“

“No! Why didn’t you say anything when we were together? Any time we were together? When I told you I had a girlfriend? Why were you always so…cool?”

“Me? Cool?” I laugh. “There’s nothing cool about me Har.”

“Well you’re hard to fucking read then! I dunno! I was always leaving hints and signals that I actually liked you. And you always ignored them!”

“Hints? Signals?” I gape. “When the—what the hell do you call hints?!”

“I…I wanted you to meet my fucking parents for god’s sake. Did you really never-“

“If I’m hard to read so are you mate,” I lean against the closest thing—a mailbox. My legs are jelly. “Was that when you vaguely suggested I wake up in your bed while your parents were down?!”

“Fine well I bought you chocolates that one time, I’ve even got some of your tees in my room! I-I tried to plan romantic dates for us—Hampstead! I tried to tell you-“

“What?” I’m not asking him anything. I’m just questioning everything; everything I avoided and played off had meaning. Of course it did. Everything had meaning, but I’d just thrown our dictionary out the window so it would mean nothing. Because I was afraid.

“Really?!” Harry sighs. He crouches down and runs his hands through his hair. “Am I that bad? I thought I was making it so clear but you always brushed it off. I felt like an idiot for falling for you when it was just s’pose to be casual. I thought I was being a bloody simp.”

I inch down to where he crouches.

“You fell for me?” I whisper.

When he looks at me it’s with eyes that look like broken seaglass. With a mouth curved down so low that I want to kiss into a smile. Into a laugh.

He cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. I give in to the sigh and his lips lift ever so slightly.

“How could I not?”

“I thought I drove you crazy?” I grasp his hand. “I thought I was just a fun distraction I-“

“I never said the second part.” He interrupts.

“You sure?”

“You were reading the wrong hints.”

I laugh and so does he. It almost turns into tears.

He stands and extends a hand that I take, his warm palm covering mine.

“Now’s when you return the confession,” he says without letting go. “So?”

“What? I’m not hiding any confessions!”

“Liar,” he tugs me close. “Your heart’s racing.”

“That’s from getting up so quickly.”

“You’re full of shite.”

We’re smiling so hard I’m sure we look like crazy people on the street.

But he had a girlfriend. Oh god. A sweet girl I’d just met today.

His expression grows confused as mine must turn to worry. I untangle myself.

“Harry…”

“I know.” He finally clues in.

“We can’t-“

“I know.”

We stare at each other for a heartbeat.

“I’m gonna go. Or else…”

“Just like that?” He asks.

“How else is it supposed to be?” I demand. “We can’t do this Har. And please…if you like her…respect her at all—don’t break up with her just to be with me. I wouldn’t be able to stomach it.”

“Then I’m just lying to her.”

“I…” I shrug. “I dunno. I just don’t want to be the reason for her heartbreak okay?”

“You’re being a sensitive snowflake. Breaking up with her is the right thi-“

“You can’t call people snowflakes-

“I can if that’s what they’re being-“

“I’m going home.” I tell him. It’s the last thing I want to do.

He opens his mouth with whatever quick retort he always had. But he must think twice about it. His face draws into a frown.

“Sort yourself out.” I instruct him. “Just sort it out. And then one day soon we can see…y’know.”

I half turn away, but can’t bear to leave without touching him one last time. Who knows when the next time will be. I flit to him so I can press my lips against the warmth of his cheek, so intoxicating. Like an addict only sniffing the alcohol in their cup. And when I feel his body loosening, about to hold my own, I flit away and rush into the tube without a glance back.

I don’t register anything on the ride home. I’m too shocked to even cry about it.

I wash the day away, the scent of him and the look on his face when he realizes we each had been trying to hold out own glaring neon signs to each other.

It’s late when there’s a knock on my door. I figure it’s my roommate forgetting her keys, and since I’d been laying on my bed in my towel after my shower too numb to sort myself out I end up opening the door basically naked.

It’s Harry.

His eyes roam over my terryclothed figure with a smile.

“What—what are you doing here!?” I grab the edge of my towel to keep it in place.

“Were you expecting someone else?” He asks.

“No-stop!” I push my hand into his chest as he crosses through the doorway. “Why are you here?”

His eyebrows draw together, hurt. “I…I didn’t think I was that drunk—we did just admit our feelings to each other a few hours ago right?”

“Yes but!” I put my hand down because his heart is beating fast under my hand and I don’t want to feel it a second longer. “You were also supposed to sort yourself out and-“

“Can you just let me in?”

I stare at him.

He stares back.

“Fine!” I give up and move aside. He closes the door behind him. That’s when I notice his hands. “What’s that?”

“For you.” He holds a bouquet up. “I know they’re shitty. I couldn’t find much at this time of night-“

“No hold on, I don’t understand.”

“We’ve wasted enough time throwing out shitty hints that apparently neither of us could read. We should never be detectives.”

I stay still, waiting for an explanation. Any bloody explanation as to why he’s here and not with his girlfriend!

“I went back to Elise. She knew something was wrong right away. I tried to deny it. She asked if something was going on between us-“

“God seriously Har! I said not to-“

“Did you want me to go back and pretend to be in love with her when I just had a fucking bomb go off in my life!? I know you don’t want to be that girl YN but I don’t want to be that shitty guy who stays with someone because he feels bad! What does that make me?”

I can picture Elise’s face in my mind. Oh god.

“She wasn’t mad-“

“You wish.” I snort.

“No she wasn’t. Well she was at first because she thought I was with you and her at the same time. I explained. I apologized. She got it. She…turns out she was still hung up over her ex. That she really liked me but she was mostly doing it to get her parents off her back. Because they never like who she dates. Which wasn’t a great thing to hear but…I’m pretty sure I saw her catching a cab as I was leaving. Maybe she went back to her ex.”

I’m dumbfounded with his retelling of what happened after I’d left.

“She’s okay. Are we?” He asks when I don’t reply.

The bouquet looks rough, like it was maybe clutched too hard and the flowers are nearing the end of their life. I imagine Harry rifling through a flower stand to find something for me. Coming here because he couldn’t wait.

I was kidding myself. I couldn’t wait either.

“Okay.”

“Okay??” He asks but he’s closing the distance because he’s reading me. He already knows me.

“Fine.” I say as he loops his arms around my waist. I stretch my arms up around his shoulders, clasping them at his neck. Something throbs deep in my chest. I missed him.

“I missed you,” he says. Always reading my mind.

“I didn’t know I could.” I say to him. His eyes are filled with a raw emotion that mirrors whatever’s aching in my chest.

“You’re like something from the gallery,” he cups my face. “Beautiful and original, breathtaking and you pass by it every opportunity you get just to get another glimpse. It makes you realize what you’ve been missing your whole life.”

“Aw Har,” my voice wobbles. If this was Harry when he was direct and not giving shitty hints I don’t know how I was going to survive us.

“What?” He whispers.

“You’ve got a soft side. You’re not actually a prick.”

His dimples make an appearance as he smiles. “I told you. I’ve just got standards don’t I.”

I wanted all of him—god how did I fool myself this whole time. I wanted all of him. He was just so lovely. “I think you’re going to ruin me,” I whisper back. His grin disappears and he tugs me ever closer.

“You’ve already ruined me.” He says. “I can’t look at any piece of art without thinking of you. I can’t go a day without wondering about you.”

“Is that healthy?” I murmur. My heart drums.

“Who the fuck cares about healthy?” He laughs.

We gaze at each other, the blood rushes through my body at high speeds.

“Mutual ruin?” I ask.

He responds with a kiss so passionate that I forget how to breath. I’m sure my towel was being held up by our bodies at this point.

“Mutual ruin. Or you can just ruin me.” His lips brush against my ear, feather down my neck. “I’m madly in love with you YN. There’s nobody but you.”

I don’t know whether to laugh from giddiness or cry from how my heart overflows.

“Har, I think I get the hint.” I say instead. He laughs.

“Fucking finally.”

💟💟💟💟

[heliosunny]

you have written for both hsr and genshin. any plans for zzz? (also anything for yan!alhaitham pls...... NO PRESSURE BTW!!!!)

I played zzz during the time they release Harumasa and stopped after that. My poor phone couldn't handle Genshin either so I stopped at the beginning of Natlan. My poor laptop is holding on for its dear life since I abuse it w Hsr :)))) Maybe I'll watch people play for the story and characters. I don't want to ruin any character and write things without basic knowledge.

Also, here's a short fic for Alhaitham.

Yandere!Alhaitham x Reader

The first letter arrives on a Monday.

You nearly miss it, slipping your textbooks into your bag as the final bell rings. A crisp white envelope sits neatly atop your desk, unmarked except for your name written in precise, elegant handwriting. The paper is thick, too formal for a casual note from a classmate.

Curiosity wins over caution. You unfold the letter, eyes skimming the words written in deep black ink.

You always prefer sitting by the window, even though the sunlight strains your eyes after a while. I wonder—do you realize how often you rub them when you think no one is looking?

You walked to class today with precisely seven minutes to spare, just like always. Routine is something you value, isn't it? It makes you predictable.

You are an anomaly among the ordinary, an equation I find myself drawn to solve. It is only natural for me to observe.

No signature. No indication of who wrote it. But the words feel… meticulous. Too structured to be a prank. Too detailed to be random.

You glance around the now-empty classroom, your pulse picking up speed.

Someone has been watching you.

You clutch the letter tighter, fingers pressing into the fine paper as a chill creeps up your spine. Who would write something like this? And more importantly—how long have they been watching you?

Shoving the letter into your bag, you push your way out of the classroom and down the hall, searching for something, or rather-someone grounding.

Your friends are waiting at your usual spot near the lockers, chatting about the latest test results. Their presence should be comforting, but the words in your bag linger like a shadow at the back of your mind.

“Hey, you okay?” One of them nudges your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah,” you lied “Just tired.”

You’re about to forget it—convince yourself it was a one-time thing, a strange prank—when your eyes flicker across the hallway.

There, leaning against the far wall, flipping through a book like he’s indifferent to the world, is Alhaitham.

The school’s resident genius. Top of every class. Speaks as if the rest of you are equations to be solved rather than people.

You and your friends don’t interact with him much. He’s polite, but distant—aloof in a way that keeps most people at bay. It’s not that anyone dislikes him, but there’s something too precise about him, like he only engages when absolutely necessary.

Yet now… you can’t shake the feeling that his presence is off.

Because for someone so absorbed in his book, his gaze lifts at the exact moment you look at him.

And he holds your stare.

It lasts only a second before he turns the page, unreadable as ever.

You shake off the strange feeling and went home right after.

The second letter appears on Wednesday, slipped neatly into your locker between your notebooks.

You hesitated today before stepping into the classroom. As if something was weighing on your mind. I wonder, was it the letter? You can lie to your friends, but not to me.

After all, I know you better than you think.

This isn’t a joke.

The handwriting is the same, as if each word was chosen with purpose. The unsettling detail is there too, the kind that makes your skin prickle.

You glance around, paranoia creeping in. The hallway is full of students, everyone wrapped up in their own conversations, laughter echoing off the walls.

No one looks suspicious. No one is watching.

Still, you don’t mention it to your friends. Not yet. You tell yourself it’ll stop if you ignore it.

The Third Letter - Friday. This time, it’s waiting in your backpack when you reach for your notes.

You’ve stopped looking around as much. You’re trying to pretend this doesn’t bother you. Smart. But pointless. You will notice me soon.

Your hands are clammy as you shove it deep into your bag, heart hammering.

This is escalating.

Someone has been close enough to touch your things. Close enough to slip a letter into your backpack without you noticing.

You force yourself to act normal. Laugh at your friends’ jokes. Keep your routine. But the unease lingers, curling in your stomach.

---

It happens late on a Tuesday afternoon.

You’ve stayed behind to finish some work in the library, your friends already gone for the day. The school is quieter now, the usual buzz of voices replaced with the rustle of pages and the faint hum of the air conditioning.

You reach for a book from the shelf and—

Something slips out.

A letter.

Your breath catches as it flutters to the ground, face-up.

You recognize the handwriting immediately.

Your fingers shake as you pick it up. But before you can even read it, a shadow falls over you.

“I wouldn’t take that if I were you” a calm voice says.

Slowly, you turn.

Alhaitham stands there, hands in his pockets, unreadable as always. But this time, there’s something else in his gaze—something sharper.

It takes a second too long for you to find your voice. “...What?”

His eyes flicker to the letter in your grip. His expression remains impassive, but the air around him feels off.

“I was going to retrieve that later” he says simply, as if discussing the weather. “But I suppose this works too.”

No.

No way.

But the letter in your hands says otherwise. The handwriting. The way it just happened to be inside a book you grabbed.

It’s been him.

This entire time.

Alhaitham watches you carefully, as if calculating your next move.

“Well,” he murmurs, tilting his head. “Now what will you do?”

[abbottfansstuff]

Something Real:

**Chapter 1: New Teacher, New Problem**

Author's Note: What can I say? I have hit the inspiration zone... I have an outline completed and a week of vacation. Let's do this!

Abbott Elementary had seen its fair share of new teachers. Most came in bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, determined to change the world, only to find themselves deflated by budget cuts, broken copy machines, and kids who had no interest in learning. Melissa Schemmenti had learned not to get too invested. Newbies either sank or swam, and she wasn’t a lifeguard.

But the moment Y/N walked into the staff lounge, something about them put her on edge. Not in a bad way, necessarily—just in a way that made her sit up a little straighter and fold her arms a little tighter. Y/N was confident. Not in an overeager way, but in a way that suggested they knew exactly what they were getting into. That was unusual. And irritating.

Melissa watched as Barbara greeted them warmly, her voice filled with the kind of patience Melissa could only hope to emulate one day. Jacob had already attached himself to Y/N, rambling about some podcast he thought they’d love, while Janine was grinning ear to ear—no doubt thrilled to have another ally in her relentless optimism.

Melissa snorted into her coffee. “Oh great, another idealist.”

Barbara glanced at her with a knowing look. “Be nice, Melissa.”

“I am nice,” Melissa said defensively. “I’m just saying, let’s see how long that shiny new teacher energy lasts.”

As if on cue, you turned your attention to her, offering a friendly smile. “Hey, you must be Melissa. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Melissa raised an eyebrow, already suspicious. “Yeah? Don’t believe everything you hear.”

You chuckled, unbothered. “Noted. Still, I’m looking forward to working with you.”

There was no sarcasm, no forced charm—just sincerity. That was worse. Melissa could handle arrogance and cut through fake politeness like butter, but sincerity? That was harder to deflect. So she defaulted to what she did best—snark.

“We’ll see if you can keep up.”

Your grin widened. “Oh, I plan to.”

Melissa turned away, pretending to be more interested in her coffee than in the weird way her stomach flipped when you smiled.

By the end of the week, Y/N had already made themselves comfortable at Abbott. Quick on their feet and—most annoyingly—getting along with everyone. Melissa found herself noticing it more than she wanted to. You fit in too quickly, like you had always been there. When Melissa first started at Abbott, she had to fight to find her space and earn respect. But Y/N? You were already laughing with Janine and Jacob, even cracking jokes with Mr. Johnson.

“Hey, Melissa,” Ava called from across the lounge. “Your new little friend is getting cozy with Janine. Should I be worried about another teacher power couple forming?”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Oh please, they just met.”

“Uh-huh,” Ava said, clearly enjoying herself. “Still, wouldn’t be the first time a new teacher got swept up by Janine.”

Melissa scoffed but glanced over at you and Janine anyway.

Before she could stop herself, she was walking over. “Janine, don’t you have a class to get back to?”

Janine blinked. “Uh… lunch break?”

“Right.” Melissa turned to you. “How’s your first week going? Still think you can handle it?”

You smirked. “Oh, absolutely. But thanks for checking in on me.”

Melissa scoffed. “I wasn’t checking in, I was just—” She stopped, realizing she had no real reason for coming over. “Whatever.”

“I think I can handle it,” you teased, eyes glinting with something unreadable.

Melissa turned on her heel and walked away, ignoring the way her ears felt hot.

This was going to be a long school year.

Later that afternoon, Melissa found herself paired with you for an impromptu supply closet restocking mission. Apparently, you two were the only ones who hadn’t successfully dodged Ava’s request for “volunteers.”

As you sorted through bins of markers and glue sticks, you glanced at her. “So, be honest—what’s your problem with new teachers?”

Melissa didn’t look up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you were skeptical. And I’ve noticed you watching me,” you said while counting the blue markers.

Melissa’s hand froze over a stack of construction paper. “I’m not watching you.”

You just smirked.

Melissa sighed, leaning against the shelf. “Look, nothing personal, all right? I’ve just seen a lot of teachers come and go.”

You nodded. “Fair. But you don’t seem to be testing anyone else.”

Melissa frowned. Damn, you were perceptive. “You’re just… different.”

You tilted your head. “Different how?”

Melissa opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn’t have an answer. Or at least not one she was ready to admit. Instead, she grabbed a box of pencils and shoved it into your hands. “Just don’t prove me right, rookie.”

You held her gaze for a second before taking the box with a smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Melissa turned away before you could see the small, reluctant smile tugging at her lips.

This was going to be interesting.

[ldydeath]

We Were Never Meant To Be | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: You and Jiyong have grown apart and there's nothing that either of you can do or say to fix it.

Warnings: Angst, but that's it.

Author's Note: I'm not even going to lie, this made me sad to write. I'm sorry in advance.

It had been happening slowly over the last few months. You’d both felt each other slipping away from each other. At first you’d clung to each other desperate for it to go away. You weren’t ready for it to be over but it was happening. There was nobody to blame for it, you’d grown apart naturally over time. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t force yourself to stay in love. Neither could he.

“I’ve just got one more box and then I’ll be gone.” Jiyong wasn’t supposed to be home today, but as was life, his plans had changed and he’d been helping you load up your car all morning. Somehow having him here had made it more real.

Not that it hadn’t been real while you’d moved through the house collecting your years of clutter and clothing earlier that week. You’d tried your best to keep it together as you packed everything neatly away. Jiyong had given you space while you grieved the loss of this relationship, as you said bye to his cats that had become partly yours over the years. Your heart was shattering and you could tell by looking at him that his was too. 

His jaw tensed, swallowing all the words he wanted to say as he watched you head over to the last box. He didn’t want you to go, but he knew he hadn’t done enough to keep you here and if he wasn’t his best self for you there was no point in fighting it anymore. Instead of begging you to stay he just nodded his head, his hands finding their way to his pockets so you wouldn’t see them balling into fists. 

Nothing worth keeping ever stayed with Jiyong. Not his friends, not you. Sure, he had his career but it didn’t mean anything without you. What was he supposed to do now without you? What had he done to convince you his world didn’t revolve around you? Why couldn’t he fix it? Why wouldn’t you stay with him? He knew he wasn’t supposed to be here today but the truth was he couldn’t focus on anything but you and maybe if he saw it through he’d be able to let you go.

He watched as you took the last box out of his house and the realization hit that you were really leaving him. He sat down on the couch, burying his head in his hands. He knew he should pull himself together, it wasn’t fair to you to see him this way. You didn’t want him anymore and he’d respect it, but he was human too.

“Ji?” He sat up at the sound of your voice and watched as you made your way over to him. “Are you ok?” 

“No.” You moved to sit down next to him, tilting his head towards you. There was so much pain written all over his face and you looked down, letting go of him. You knew this wasn’t easy for him, it wasn’t easy for you, either. But you couldn’t stay, you weren’t even sure when it had broken or why you couldn’t fix it. You just knew it was too far gone now to keep trying. 

You’d both been hurting for months, refusing to admit that you were putting too much pressure on each other to be better. You had always agreed that you would do right by each other and when the fighting started and never eased you both had agreed that it had run its course. 

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head refusing to let you continue and glanced up at you. 

“I’m the one that’s sorry. Is there really nothing I can do to fix this?” His eyes pleaded with you. You shook your head and stood up. You couldn’t have this conversation, not again. 

“I wish there was something, but there’s not one singular thing and I know you know that. I’m always going to love you, Jiyong, but this isn’t working anymore.”

“I know. I’m always going to love you too.” his voice was small as he spoke and you let out a sigh as he stood up. “I’ll walk you out.” You nodded and followed him to the door.

You paused and turned back around, looking at the place you’d called home for several years now, a singular tear rolled down your cheek and you wiped it away quickly before saying a silent goodbye to your home. You knew leaving Jiyong was going to be hard, you just hadn’t been expecting it to be this hard. For so long he’d been the only person you could’ve ever imagined your life with. Maybe you still did. Maybe in some alternate universe the two of you were sitting down for dinner, laughing at some dumb thing that happened that day and your relationship was thriving.

You desperately wanted to live in that timeline suddenly envious of a fake version of you who was finding a way to make your relationship work. Jiyong cleared his throat behind you and you closed your eyes for a second, composing yourself before you followed him out of the house. You both stood awkwardly at your car for what seemed like hours. In reality, it had only been a few seconds. He blinked before stepping closer to wrap his arms around you.

You allowed yourself to get lost in his arms, sinking into him as his arms tightened around you. If he had it his way he wouldn’t let you go, he’d just guide you back in the house and show you how much he loved you. But that wasn’t what you wanted and as his grip loosened on you, you opened your eyes and offered him a tight smile. 

“Take care of yourself, Jiyong. Don’t get so lost in your work. The fans are important, but you’re more important.” He nodded as you turned towards your car.

“You were the most important.” It came out as a whisper and you pretended you didn’t hear him as you slid into your car. He closed the door behind you and you offered him a small wave as he turned away to walk inside the house.

Maybe you could give him one final thing on your way out. You rolled down your window and stuck your head out. “Ji?” You called and he turned around. “Feel free to write about this.” You teased and he rolled his eyes, a smile appearing on his face as he nodded. It felt good to see him smile one last time before you started up your car and drove away.

You may not have been able to make it work, but maybe now you’d be able to be his muse. Maybe that would just have to be enough for the both of you.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren

[moonlight-joy]

Hunt Me Love Me

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: You’re an undercover journalist investigating Kraven, but he finds out before you can escape. Instead of killing you, Kraven makes you his captive—curious to see how long it will take for you to fall for him. The longer you stay, the more you realize that you’re not just surviving his captivity… you’re starting to fall for him.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

The dim light filtering through the wooden slats of the cabin did little to illuminate the room, but you didn’t need bright light to feel the weight of Kraven’s presence. He leaned against the far wall, his broad shoulders relaxed but his sharp eyes fixed on you like a predator studying its prey. His silence was unnerving, a stark contrast to the chaos in your own mind.

You had been so careful. Months of preparation, research, and subtle probing, all leading up to this moment. You’d come to investigate the man who had eluded law enforcement and fascinated tabloids for years—a hunter who thrived on danger, someone whispered about in dark corners but never truly understood. Sergei Kravinoff, better known as Kraven. But somehow, he had found you first.

“I must admit,” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, laced with something you couldn’t quite place, “you’re better than most.”

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap, nails digging into your palms. “Better than most what?” you asked, your voice steady despite the tight knot of fear in your chest.

Kraven’s smirk deepened. “Better than most of the fools who think they can outsmart me. They send investigators, bounty hunters, even assassins.” He chuckled, a low and menacing sound. “But you? An undercover journalist. Now that’s clever.”

Your stomach twisted as his words sank in. He knew. He’d known all along.

“If you knew, then why didn’t you stop me sooner?” you demanded, anger flaring up despite your fear.

Kraven pushed off the wall and crossed the room in a few deliberate strides, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. He crouched down so that his face was level with yours, his eyes narrowing as he studied you.

“Because,” he said softly, “I wanted to see how far you’d go. How far you’d push yourself to get close to me. And now…” He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Now, you’re mine.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, and you leaned back instinctively, trying to put distance between the two of you. But there was no escape. Not here, not now.

“You can’t keep me here,” you said, forcing steel into your voice. “People will come looking for me.”

Kraven’s smirk returned, more dangerous than before. “Let them come. They’ll find nothing. Just like you did.”

He stood and began pacing the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like a tiger circling its cage. “You’re not the first to try to unearth my secrets,” he continued. “But you… you’re different. Persistent. Clever. Beautiful.”

The last word hung in the air, and you swallowed hard, refusing to let his compliment shake you.

“You’re a monster,” you said, your voice trembling but defiant.

Kraven stopped and turned to face you, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “Perhaps,” he admitted, “but even monsters have their desires. And you… you’ve awakened something in me. Something I haven’t felt in years.”

The room felt suddenly smaller, his presence suffocating. You wanted to scream, to fight, to run. But there was no way out. Instead, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to let him see the fear you felt.

“What do you want from me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kraven’s smile softened, though it didn’t lose its predatory edge. “I want to see how long it takes for you to stop fighting me,” he said simply. “How long it takes for you to realize that you belong here. With me.”

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself trapped in a strange dance with Kraven. He didn’t harm you, but he didn’t let you go either. Instead, he watched you, studied you, his fascination with you growing by the day. At first, you resisted, refusing to engage with him beyond the bare minimum. But as time passed, something shifted.

He wasn’t what you’d expected. Yes, he was intense, dangerous, and utterly unyielding. But he was also intelligent, thoughtful, and, at times, even kind. He brought you food, ensured you were comfortable, and occasionally shared stories of his past—a past filled with pain and loss, but also with triumphs and victories that few could comprehend.

“Why do you hunt?” you asked him one evening, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

Kraven’s gaze flicked to you, his expression thoughtful. “To prove something,” he said finally. “To myself. To the world. To anyone who ever doubted me.”

“And now?” you pressed. “What are you trying to prove now?”

He was silent for a long moment before answering. “That I’m more than what they think I am. And that maybe… there’s more to life than the hunt.”

His words surprised you, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of vulnerability in him. It was fleeting, but it was enough to make you question everything you’d thought about him.

One night, as you lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Kraven’s voice broke the silence.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Sometimes I think I should. But other times…” You trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought.

“Other times?” he prompted.

You turned your head to look at him, your chest tightening at the intensity of his gaze. “Other times, I think I understand you more than I want to.”

Kraven’s lips twitched into a small smile. “You’re stronger than you realize,” he said. “That’s why I chose you.”

The words sent a jolt through you, and you sat up, staring at him in shock. “Chose me?” you repeated.

Kraven nodded, his expression unrepentant. “I knew who you were from the moment you started your investigation. I let you get close because I wanted to see if you were worthy.”

“Worthy of what?” you demanded, your voice rising.

“Of standing by my side,” he said simply. “Of being more than prey. Of being… mine.”

The truth of his words hit you like a physical blow. All this time, you’d thought you were the one chasing him, the one uncovering his secrets. But in reality, he’d been hunting you all along.

“You’re insane,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

Kraven stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “Perhaps. But you’re still here. And that tells me I’m not the only one who feels this.”

You wanted to deny it, to scream that he was wrong. But deep down, a small, treacherous part of you knew he wasn’t. And that terrified you more than anything.

The days that followed were a blur of conflicting emotions. You hated him for what he’d done, for the way he’d manipulated you. But you couldn’t deny the connection that had formed between you, the way his presence stirred something deep within you.

And slowly, against all logic and reason, you began to wonder if staying with him wasn’t a cage… but a choice.

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[livmightlive]

LU Maze Runner AU (actually explained this time)

Okay, I got way ahead of myself in my last post 😭 I forgot that maze runner didn’t have the same impact on everybody as it did me. Here’s the actual plot of my AU so that it makes sense to everyone 😭

Hyrule has reached an incredibly advanced age of technology and other sciences. (So think like, hunger games, or any sci-fi movie that takes place like, 200 years in the future.) Most of Hyrule has fallen to a horrible virus called the gloom. This gloom grows through plants and taints water sources.  This virus was engineered by a terrible cult called Demise, a group of people under the control of a man named Ganon who wishes to take control of Hyrule. 

In retaliation, a group sponsored by the royal lineage of Hyrule creates a research facility called HYLIA to study ways to take down Demise and fight against the gloom. They take individuals from across Hyrule who show either great resistance, sometimes even immunity to the gloom, and/or significant resistance against the cult of Demise. Demise has some type of brainwashing technology that causes people to either become submissive under its rule or compliant to the cult, often joining it. 

Of course in this story the people taken are the boys from the chain and also all the Zeldas. They’re all taken young, at least in the quarter HYLIA that they live in. Most of them were surrendered by their parents but others were either found or taken. HYLIA cannot afford to be kind. 

So in essence, everyone is stuck there, but it’s not horrible. They spend a lot of time getting “normal” schooling. They’re subjected to tests but it’s not necessarily like a horror lab AU. They’re not treated like animals or anything but they certainly can’t leave. This of course leads to a lot of resentment from the chain.

Eventually HYLIA starts getting frustrated. They aren’t getting very far with their testing. It just isn’t… natural. One of the key discoveries is that gloom resistance and resistance to Demise mind control is really hard to replicate in practical labs. The labs can’t be unbiased with literally the same exact sample each time. They realize that the only way they can actually get results is through real life experience. But how can they get that when all these people have been living in HYLIA for years? 

The Maze is born. It's huge, spanning hundreds of acres of land. In its very center lies the glade, a safe spot of land in the middle of it all, the maze surrounding it. (I’ll try and draw a rough map at some point.) They build two of them. One for the boys, one for the girls. They fill the mazes with genetically engineered monsters that they infuse with low levels of the gloom in order to see how the “participants” react when they fight them. 

The mazes are full of different puzzles and beasts so that HYLIA can study the participants and how they react. Through these means, they believe they will understand how to defeat Demise and the gloom.

I mentioned before that they send in each chain member going off of their game release dates. This starts with Hyrule and ends with Wild. They time this just around the span of a full year, sending in a member around a month or two at a time. 

Before they send in each member, they completely and FULLY erase their memories so that when they wake up in the glade, all they can remember is their name and age. They do remember how to do things, like math, reading, survival skills, etc. but they don’t know how or when they learned it. Sometimes they might get strong feelings, but that’s all they have. They’re essentially new people once they hit the maze. 

I’ll get more into the chain members and dynamics next time! Or I can write about anything you want 💕💕💕 please lmk thoughts!! They keep me motivated

[system-to-the-madness]

Perfect - Zuko x Reader

Pairing: Zuko x fem!Reader Word Count: 2 715 Warnings: mentions of kidnapping of children, child slavery, war Summary: After the war is over, Zuko shares his worries with you A/N: Can be read as a oneshot; Part Eleven (aka the Last Part) of the series Perfect (10 times Zuko thought you were perfect and the first time he told you)

Zuko's fingertips were grazing the surface of the pond's water, creating gentle ripples in their path. A turtle duck chick came paddling over, nudging his warm fingers with its cool beak. Pushing his hand underneath the hard shell, he fished the chick out of the water, which, used to the motion, relaxed its legs and patiently waited to be settled down in the folds of his dark red robe where his fingers absentmindedly stroked the top of its feathered head.

It had been two months since the war had ended, since Aang had defeated Zuko's father and Zuko been crowned as Fire Lord. And if he had thought he could relax a little after that, he had been completely wrong about it.

There were treaties he had to make with the other kingdoms. Under his command the colonies in the earth kingdom had started to be dissolved. And there was the matter of these re-education facilities for kidnapped earth kingdom children. Together with him you had freed your sister from one, but as Fire Lord he had learned of three more of these schools. A total of almost two thousand kidnapped kids. Some had been separated from their parents at such a young age for such a long time that there was no hope of finding their families. Some children had been already reunited with theirs, others were still searching. And if Zuko was being honest, it was a tragedy.

There were families that had been whipped out, no parents left, children who would forever keep looking for their mothers or fathers and never find them. There were parents, who's infants had been taken years ago, who now looked at the faces of a bunch of school children, trying to figure out if either of them was theirs. And in all cases, this was the most important to Zuko, it was necessary to always consider the child's happiness and wellbeing before anything else.

If there was a chance that the people claiming a child was theirs were in the wrong, there had to be thorough investigations. If people offered to adopt a child, their backgrounds had to be checked, leaving no stone unturned to figure out if there was any indication the child might suffer with their new parents. It was a hard affair. Emotional, and yet brutally rational.

It was hard carrying all this responsibility atop of his already overwhelming duties as Fire Lord, and even though a capable team was helping in the matter of the kidnapped children, he still felt like he was carrying all the weight himself. If it weren't for you, he probably wouldn't be able to catch a single wink of sleep at night.

He knew it was hard for you to be separated from your sister again, but Xiang had decided against moving into the palace with you and instead moved to Ba Sing Se with Uncle Iroh, who she seemed to have taken a liking to. Even knowing your sister was happier in Ba Sing Se than she would have been here, Zuko knew you missed her terribly.

As if the thought of you had summoned you, he heard the familiar pattern of your steps approach the pond along one of the gravel paths. Zuko lazily leant his head back, his hair falling into his neck as he watched you walk over to him, a soft smile on your face as you approached him. Your hair was bound in a style that seemed like a mixture of traditional Fire Nation Fashion and Earth Kingdom techniques. Your long dress played around your legs in the warm breeze of the sunny morning, and Zuko once again was hit by the realization and wonderment that this perfect person approaching him was the girl who let him love her. A smile tucked at his lips, but yours seemed to falter as you closed in.

“Am I interrupting something,” you asked, making him furrow his brows as you crouched down beside him.

“No,” he answered, although it sounded more like a question. “Why would you?”

“You look… stressed,” you observed, as you reached past him, to run your fingertips over the tiny head of the turtle duck in Zuko’s lap.

“I’m not!” He was aware himself how defensive he sounded, even before you raised your eyebrows at him. But you didn’t comment on it.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” It was a question asked without offence, one that really just asked what he wanted, and Zuko knew that if he told you he wanted to be alone, you would understand without being hurt about it. Still his answer was quicker than his own thoughts.

“No, please stay.”

You smiled at him softly and settled down in the grass beside him. The turtle duck quacked as if welcoming you.

For a while you sat in silence, Zuko occupying his hands with petting the small animal in his lap, while the only sounds around you were the soft gurgling of the brook that fed the pond and the birds singing from the roofs of the palace.

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologized. “I know I’m terrible company right now. It’s just- there’s so much going on and-”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you interrupted him. “I know you have a lot of things to take care of, to think through. It would be a lot even if you had been properly prepared for this position.”

“But I’ve been neglecting you and that’s inexcusable,” Zuko frowned, unable to meet your eyes.

He flinched at the soft touch of your fingers on his cheek as you turned his head to face you. His eyes wandered from your lap over your arm, past the scar he had inflicted on you, up the curve of your neck and the bow of your lips to your mesmerizing eyes. They were warm and compassionate as you asked: “How do you think you have been neglecting me?”

Zuko furrowed his brows and bit his lip, but under your gaze it was impossible to not answer honestly. “I haven’t spent much time with you recently, haven’t been talking to you as much as I should. I want to take better care of you, but in the evenings I’m so tired that I can’t even read to you or enjoy making music together. I feel like I’ve cast you aside and you must feel as if I only use you to find comfort.”

“Do I not bring you comfort,” you asked, running your hands from his cheek down his neck and settling it in his nape, playing with the strands there. The sensation sent a shiver down Zuko’s spine, and he closed his eyes while he hummed appreciatively.

“You do,” he confirmed, “But I don’t want you to think that’s the only reason I want to be with you. I love you,” the words slipped over his lips so easily that he didn’t even notice. “And I want to be able to make you feel loved but instead I’m either locked up in councils or behind a desk the whole day and when I’m not, I’m too lost in my mind, worrying over the responsibility I carry, to pay the due attention to you.”

Zuko’s eyes were still closed, so he startled at the sensation of your lips brushing against his, an innocent kiss, much more innocent than the ones you had begun exchanging recently behind locked doors. But it was more than enough to make his heart skip a beat and his breath hitch. His eyes flickered open to finding your face right in front of his. He occasionally had to remind himself that you were a capable fighter and an increasingly skilled fire bender, because the love in your gaze made it all too easy to forget how dangerous you could be.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, pecking his lips again under his observing gaze, before you gently guided him to lay down in your lap. The turtle duck chick in his own lap adjusted to the new position, cuddling into Zuko’s hand. “And I understand that it’s hard for you. There are so many duties all of a sudden. You took over a kingdom that has been at war for the past hundred years, and now you’re trying to bring peace, righting wrongs that were committed generations ago. Nobody would claim this to be an easy task, and I hope you know how proud and impressed I am at the work you are doing alongside everyone.” As you were talking Zuko closely watched your face, the honesty and love that didn’t just shimmer in your voice but also your eyes. “I know you must feel like you are prioritizing your work over us, but please know that I don’t feel neglected at all. I know you make time to have every meal together with me, even if it doesn’t fit your schedule as nicely as your advisors would like to. And maybe you don’t talk to me all the time. But you don’t have to. You are allowed to have your own private thoughts. Which isn’t to say I am not interested in hearing what’s going on in here,” you tapped his forehead gently. “But you don’t have to feel pressured into talking to me. Or listening to me, but I’ve never felt like you didn’t listen when I wanted you to. And you are allowed to just want to sit in silence, too, you know. It’s okay, we don’t have to spend our time together always talking. We can sit in silence, too. That’s okay.”

“But wouldn’t that been boring for you,” Zuko asked, his free hand absentmindedly reaching up to the hand print shaped scar he had unintentionally left on your left arm all those months ago. “I often feel like I don’t want to talk, but I want you around. But can’t ask you to just keep me company without any entertainment.”

“Do you really think I’d only enjoy spending time with you if you entertain or reward me,” you wondered quietly, sounding almost hurt.

Zuko’s fingers brushed over the well healed, slightly raised tissue of the scar, not meeting your gaze and not answering.

“Has it ever occurred to you, that I enjoy spending time with you just because I get to be with you?”

Zuko swallowed thickly as you leant over him, your face covering the blue sky above you.

“You’re an idiot,” you accused, softly knocking your forehead against Zuko’s with a pout.

“Sorry,” he smiled embarrassedly. “It’s just… hard to comprehend, you know.”

You hummed. “I knew I agreed to date a whole bunch of insecurities alongside this pretty face, so I shouldn’t complain.”

Zuko knew you were teasing him, but the compliment didn’t fall on deaf ears and a blush crept into his cheeks.

“You know,” you sat up straight again, your fingers coming to comb through his dark hair, “I enjoy just sitting with you, we don’t have to talk or read or make music. I enjoy sitting just like this. I know you have so many things to do, that you need some time to sort out your thoughts and feelings, I need that too, sometimes. And if you want to be alone for that, you can tell me, and I’ll give you space. But if you want me to just sit with you, I’m happy to do that, too. You don’t have to be afraid to ask.”

Zuko pressed his lips together to hide their quivering. Instead, he focused on tracing your scar again while he felt the turtle duck chick in his other hand nap off.

“Do you remember that one conversation we had once? About having to give feelings space sometimes,” he asked.

You nodded quietly, beginning to braid his hair before undoing it again.

“I think I sometimes just need to do that. I don’t want to be alone for it, because I’m bad with feelings and sometimes they are scary, and having you with me makes me feel safe enough to confront these feelings. But it’s important to do it, to do it this way. And I feel like you understand me.”

You hummed quietly. “I think I do,” you agreed.

For a moment both of you were quiet, you playing with Zuko’s hair and Zuko watching you closely. The light reflecting from the surface of the pond was dancing across your face, lighting up your eyes every other moment, making your hair glow. Zuko suddenly realized that he had probably never felt as peaceful as right now. He felt comfortable, resting in your lap, feeling your warm legs underneath his head, your hands tucking his hair carefully. He felt understood by you, and appreciated. Not something he had a lot of experience with. And he wasn’t quite sure how he deserved someone so perfect at his side. He had never told you, he thought, how perfect he thought you were. So, taking this quiet moment as his chance, he voiced his feelings.

“I sometimes feel scared, because I don’t know how I could ever deserve being with someone as perfect as you, and it makes feel like I might lose you at any moment,” he confessed.

You continued playing with his hair, not meeting his eyes as you answered. “You’re not losing me,” you told him, and the confidence with which you said this was almost enough to convince him of it to be true. “Besides, I’m far from perfect.”

“No, you’re not,” Zuko disagreed determinedly. “You’re perfect. You’re perfect to me.”

Your fingers stilled in his hair and your eyes finally met his. There was a vulnerability in them, that made Zuko’s heart stutter and if your gaze hadn’t frozen him in place, he would have sat up and wrapped you in his arms.

“You really think that,” you asked quietly, and he nodded quickly, hoping his confession wouldn’t scare you off. But instead, you smiled even though he was certain he had seen tears beginning to rise in your eyes. “It makes me very happy to hear that,” you admitted and leant down to kiss his forehead.

You didn’t tell him that you thought he was perfect, too. And Zuko was glad you didn’t. Somehow it would have felt like it would have taken away from the importance of his message to you if you had, and he was happy you accepted his sentiment the way it was without feeling the need to repay the compliment. Instead, you returned to sitting back up, and braiding filigree patterns into his hair while he held the sleeping turtle duck in one hand and had the other wrapped in your dress, while watching your face over him. There were no further words exchanged between the two of you until almost two hours later a bell rung for lunch, and Zuko couldn’t deny that he had never felt more refreshed and relaxed after a break than after sitting with you, even if it was in silence.

It wasn’t until a good while later that you eventually told him you felt like he was perfect to you. It was a compliment Zuko had neither wished nor hoped for, nor expected. But of course, it made him happy to hear, although at that point it had been a knowledge that had settled deep into his soul already. It was the way you treated him every day, the way you treated each other every day, that had woven the subconscious realization into his very being. It was a form of respect you paid each other, not the respect you paid someone of authority but someone you admired. You were teasing each other, laughing with each other. You could sit in silence for hours or talk all through the night without ever growing bored of each other’s company. Of course you had disagreements, but even then, it never felt as if they threatened the bond that connected you now. And when Zuko told you about how he had fallen in love with you while saving you and Aang from Pohuai Stronghold, he admitted you your amusement and his shame, that he still didn’t know why he hadn’t understood from the first moment on how perfect you were.

The End

A/N: This concludes the series! Thank you all for reading! I've had the idea for this first almost a year back, and am now in a very different place than i was then. I finished writing my last exams of my Bachelor's degree today (assuming i don't fail), and can fully focus on writing my thesis from march on. I'm glad i finally got this story out in the world and am happy and greateful for everyone who enjoyed reading it!

Taglist:

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@toomuchboredd

@banished--prince

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[abslvrs13]

IM JUST HELPING OUT- drabble

pairing: bsf!jj maybank x fem!pogue!reader

synopsis: jj notices something when both of you were walking down the stairs, so he assumes he can do it too.

a/n- idk guys, its kinda- 'uhm?', but i thought of it and ran to my computer. set in season 1.

warnings: boob touching, jj being a dumbass perv, boobs.

it happened a lot. JJ would walk down the steps of the dock, public places and all with you, alot. and whenever he looked over, he saw you- cupping your boobs to prevent them from painfully bouncing- i mean, come on, its an instinct but it does things to jj.

the sun was reflecting off of your skin, the tanned and oily skin- from sunscreen, was practically glowing, and jj couldn't keep his damn eyes off of you. you were like a goddess in his eyes, and he enjoyed every single second of it.

" jj, eyes on the job." mr.heyward spoke from the dock. jj was helping out with the catering at the heywards- pope asked him too. he was supposed to be carrying plastic bags full of food up and down stairs, you were asked to do it too and you kindly accepted, you never ever disrespected adults unless they really deserved it. everyone knew that.

" jj come on, we got stair duty." you spoke, jj grabbed your hand and helped you down from the edge of the boat, like always. " alright, well- i'll carry the bags, you put the stuff away and you can..." he trailed off, realizing he had to watch you walk the stairs- watching your boo- " yeah, come on, we gotta bring the bags up" you said, walking beside his still figure before he mentally shook his head and walked with you towards the old, wooden stairs.

jj and pope are the ONLY people that knew jj had a massive ass crush on you and has had one since the 5th grade when you both met, but over the years you've grown- puberty hit hard and he swore you formed into some sort of greek goddess- like said, earlier.

" so, whats goin' on with you today, j, your like- spacing out each fuckin' second" you said, turning the corner to walk up the stairs, jj tried, he tried not to look at your boobs, but it wasn't working- he wasn't being very subtle either, and it was not on purpose, though you didn't notice, your eyes were focused ahead instead.

" i'm fine..just didn't get enough sleep last night. " he said, his voice almost hoarse, which you side eyed him for. "seems like you didn't drink much water either, dude" that wasn't the reason. he knows its not. its because hes losing his stupid mind over his best friends boobs.

you left the conversation behind and walked up the stairs, on the 3rd step- instincts kicked in and your pushed your ringed fingers up to cup your clothes boobs. 'oh my god. she's doing it, i think i'm going to pass out- lord' jj thought but quickly looked away. jj's boots clicked with the floor, the back of your flip flop hit your heel as you both stepped onto the top of the staircase.

" alright, ill carry the bags back, j" you say, crossing your tan arms in front of your chest, as you both walked towards the destination of where heyward asked to drop off the groceries. jj nodded, clearing his throat- he just doesn't want his voice to be shaky next time he speaks.

jj placed the groceries onto the counter and you walked over to the small, mustard yellow crates. you bent over , jj turned around just as you did and he swallowed hardly. " a-alright, you ready", you picked up the 2 gray plastic grocery bags filled with food, nodding " yep, m'ready"

after both of you walked out towards those damn stairs again, he stood even closer. he had an idea. if you were carrying the bags, your hands would be occupied right?..she cant do her little trick, so, i am. he thought to himself, smiling as well. when you took the first step, he followed. second step. he twitched his finger. he had to do it- right? she'll appreciate..my help, yeah. help.

the third step, your face cringed at the slight pain, but you knew you had to deal with it, you had food in your hands. he cleared his throat and then reached his hand up and placed the palm of his hand in the middle of your chest, his fingers gently pushing into your boob.

" jj!' stop it.." your face flushed with confusion and embarrassment. he held back a bark of laughter, raising his hands in surrender as you both stood on the 5th step. "hey- your hands are full, gotta help my girl" he was honestly amused, he thought you'd appreciate it but your face was full blown red. you continued staring at him with the ' im gonna kill you ' look.

" im just helpin' out"

[wereprinxe]

I started doing this thing where I did fankids based on a random ship of redactedverse and now I have fun with it! So please, give me more of these, it was really fun so pls give more! :D

Preferably in reblogs! /nf

Excluding Caelum ofc

Allowing also trio and more! (and you can tell me if you want two or more, i will usually do one per ship!)

So far, I did: Asher/Geordi, Milo/Lasko, Huxley/David, Porter/Damien, Porter/Morgan, William/Cam

Asher/Geordi

I would like to call this blurbo Mikey! And he would be a wolf shifter, I can imagine him being either really short or really tall and people pick on him for that. He has a vitiligo like his dad, but on his mouth and then across his left side of his body to his hand and waist. Blue eyes, very cute and silly guy, but can get really awkward once he realizes he talked for too long and has a bit to hide under his shirt. ADHD combined boi, he/him but doesnt mind they/them, demiboy and questioning his sexuality and romantic attraction, but is probably very pan

William/Camelopardalis

This blurbo is one of a kind when they keep their eyes closed or you don't see them well. But when theyre opened, you know you fucked up MASSIVELY. I imagine to be VERY TALL, like its intimidating and their outfit is very black and red with a hint of white. Their color of their eyes is almost nonexistent, to be very bright white, but have pupils! (is it contacts? Who knows!) They like to wear jewelry and are very *very* call it is actually scary, but they dont do it on purpose. They will troll you tho LMAO. They have vampire vibes but are a seer! And they really like gargoyles. Name is Monique, they/them, nonbinary, bisexual!

Milo/Lasko

Marshall is quite a tall guy, somewhere between Lasko and Milo and is actually a sassy guy. Dont judge a book by its cover with him! He is a contra-air elemental, but will always try to shift or gain more air elemental control, but alas! I say no, fuck you! He is actually a very smart guy, but can really get carried away with being a menace around people he tries to befriend, he forgets to focus on whats important. And because of bad decisions he makes (influenced by others) he feels like a disappointment to his dads (he is not and Lasko is very reassuring if that, he just has trust issues). Uses he/him, transmasc non-binary and is on asexual spectrum

Huxley/David

This little guy is a contra-earth! Jude is sometimes mistakes for a bear shifter considering how genes worked so extremly to be considered very atteactive and wanted, sometimes when he walks around, people will sigh in hope he will notice them. He is a lot in his head and will not notice, can be considered an ignorant to his surroundings, but its the adhd-i in him NDNSJSKMS, he/it pronouns, gender neutral (doesnt really care) and is demisexual

Porter/Damien

Oh their daughter is a GIRLBOSS in CAPS. ICONIC GIRLIE I SAY. Yuko is a mysterious person and really likes that. Wears a facemask, black clothes and just loves using her eyeliner, takes a lot of inspiration from Porter. I mean, she is their dad's assassin princess, ofccccc <3 her powers are unknown, but she is very skilled in acrobatics. Sometimes, her persona breaks when she sees my melody (she loves to collect sanrio stuff, especially my melody) She/Her, cis fem, asexual sapphic

Porter/Morgan

Theyre a literally walking magazine cover for VOGUE, you have never seen such a beautiful person in your life, evil queen is JEALOUUUUSSSSSSS /j Brook is a quiet person, kinda intimidating but is really just shy and awkward around people, especially how they can act around a vampire royalty such as her. Loves tea parties with her closest, especially her dads and they love to dress up in any kind of fashion they hyperfixate on that moment, but stick to gothic and lolita. They/she, genderfluid transfem, bisexual

[mipmoth]

I think about the fact that while the starter you picked evolves and goes through a journey the other two stays with the professor and never change. I wish you could take out pokemon indoors simply so they could see their friends :]

[skunkes]

antidepressants have saved my life but in the way that my dad was put on them earlier this year before i was and he's an entirely different person neow. several years of it being a coin toss as to whether the house was going to have a sinister energy on any given day, undone in a few weeks and once again resembling the person i was most attached to as a child

[noahtally-famous]

made a 16-slide presentation for gabriel jha, i spent three days back to back on this (and planning out the fic that takes place before, during, and after tdpi that's centric around his and dave's brotherly bond, alenoah, noah and dave's friendship, and alejandro and carlos's brotherly bond)

(the slideshow reads like a character wiki page 💀)

no going back now. while i finalize the slides (idek if i should post it here, it's a full-on oc form for a character only i care abt 😭 but it would be good background info), have some before/after racing accident that had dave auditioning for total drama picrews of gabriel! (so in other words, pre and post tdpi gabriel)

[todayisafridaynight]

thinking about vampiric arakawas again just so i can make a 'blood-sucking politician' joke

[pokeformerz]

I have such a love/hate relationship with HH...

love the huge step forward it has taken for indie animation,

hate how crazy it makes people