#and maybe everything will be okay. just in a different way. maybe a better way. we'll see 💕

[solxamber]

Genshin, 5, fluff please!!!

oh!! the first and only genshin rq for the event!

Whispers in the Rain || Neuvillette

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "It's always been you" ; Genre: Fluff (+ very mild hurt/comfort)

The rain hadn’t let up all day, pouring down in sheets and soaking everything in sight. You’d started to think the weather was getting a little too reflective of emotions, and when the puddles were practically swallowing the streets, you decided to head straight to Palais Mermonia.

Neuvillette had to be the reason for this gloomy deluge. It wasn’t the first time his feelings had leaked into Fontaine’s weather report, and you were worried something had really gotten to him this time.

But before you could even knock on his office door, a couple of melusines surrounded you, tugging at your sleeves.

“Hey! What—okay, okay, I’m going!” you huffed, letting them push you into his office like you weren’t already on your way.

Neuvillette was sitting at his desk, gazing out the rain-streaked window. He looked so serious, his hands folded on the desk and his jaw tight. His usual calmness was there, but it felt... heavier.

“Neuvillette?”

His head snapped toward you, his eyes wide for a split second before they narrowed. He stood up slowly, his frame towering as always, but there was something different in his posture—something guarded.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his tone soft but strangely distant. “Not in this weather.”

“I could say the same to you,” you shot back, stepping inside fully. “What’s going on? It’s been raining all day, and you’re—”

“It doesn’t concern you.” His voice was clipped, and that caught you off guard.

“Okay, ouch.” You crossed your arms, not budging. “It obviously concerns me if you’re this upset. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

He sighed, turning back toward the window, his shoulders tense. “I’ve heard things. From Furina.”

“Furina?” you repeated, already bracing yourself for whatever nonsense the former Archon had put in his head.

“She said you might have feelings for someone else,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “That perhaps I misjudged everything between us.”

You blinked, caught between laughing and smacking your forehead. Of course, Furina was stirring the pot. She did tell you she was going to give him a little 'nudge', whatever that meant.

“Neuvillette, seriously?” you asked, stepping closer. “You think I’m here in the middle of a storm because I like someone else?”

His gaze finally met yours, and there it was: vulnerability. That small crack in his usual composure that made your heart ache.

“I don’t know what to think,” he said softly.

You reached for his hands, gently pulling them into yours. “You should know me better than that. It’s always been you, Neuvillette. I know why Furina said that, but she’s wrong. Dead wrong.”

His expression shifted—relief, surprise, maybe a little disbelief—but the rain outside started to ease, the downpour softening into a drizzle.

“You mean that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Every word,” you said, giving his hands a squeeze.

Something in him seemed to break free, like the weight of the storm had finally lifted. Before you could react, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms firm and steady around you.

“I’ve been so foolish,” he murmured against your hair.

“You’re not foolish,” you said, though you were pretty sure you were muffled by his chest. “Just... a little dramatic.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “I’ve never been told that before.”

You grinned. “Guess you’ll have to keep hearing it, because I’m not going anywhere.”

His gaze softened, and before you knew it, he was leaning down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as soft and warm as the sunlight breaking through the clouds outside.

When you finally pulled back, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh! Rain’s already clearing up.”

“It means you’re my light,” he said quietly, his forehead resting against yours.

“Cheesy,” you teased, but your heart was soaring anyway.

Masterlist

[dear-aubade]

first of all I love your writing style 💔

second: can you make a drabble where Joel comforts reader during her cold or any kind of sickness, maybe even usual stomachache aand then they have soft cute gentle xex, and he whispers praises to her, soothing all of her aches, lyyy

- 🐿️

Awwe thank you for the kind words anon, I’m glad you like my work! Here you go!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You try to hide your sickness from Joel because you don’t want to stress him out. It doesn’t work.

Notes: Sick fic, praise kink, soft!dom!joel, sub!reader, sick!reader, reader is in her head a lot, unprotected p in v, reader is very much Joel’s baby, READER IS NOT PREGNANT SHE’S JUST NAUSEOUS

It was normal for you to be reserved. A little quieter than most, a little more soft. Joel knew you better than anybody, and he could tell when you’d slipped into your daydreams, just needing a few moments to drift off within your own head.

But this…this was different.

The day had started off as usual. You and Joel woke up together tangled in blankets, his strong arms holding you close. But the moment you blinked your bleary eyes awake you gave him a swift kiss and mumbled, “M’gonna go shower” before leaving him alone in bed.

Things only got stranger from there. That afternoon Joel was scheduled to leave for a short patrol with Tommy—lately there had been more Clicker sightings, so he and his brother had increased the amount of rotations needed per day. Joel didn’t want to leave you alone when he suspected something was wrong, but it was necessary for him to go if they wanted to keep Jackson a safe haven.

Normally when he was about to leave you’d get all teary-eyed and try to get as many kisses from him as you could before he took off. This time, however, you gave him a short smile and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

That sent Joel’s suspicion through the roof. He had studied your face, searching for any indication there might be something off. Your eyes were a little droopy, but he also knew that the night before you’d been up late with him reading to you…

“Is everything okay, baby?” he had asked softly.

Something flickered in your eyes and a little v appeared between your brow as it creased in confusion. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know, I’m just a little worried about you.”

At that, you gave him an innocent smile. “I’m just tired, Joel. I’m okay.” You stood on your tiptoes to press your lips to his in a soft peck. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Against his better judgement, he’d left. But that didn’t stop him from worrying about you all throughout patrol.

You felt absolutely awful.

In the morning you’d woken with quite possibly the worst stomach ache you’d ever experienced. You thought a shower might make you feel better, that your body was just disagreeing with something you’d eaten the day before.

It got worse. It seemed that anything you did made the nausea flare up. All you wanted to do was be Joel’s princess for the day, to whine until he took you in his arms and hushed your cries with sweet words and sweeter kisses.

But he had patrol that day, and you didn’t want him to worry. You weren’t supposed to make him worry, you were supposed to be his good girl. You didn’t want him distracted—you knew he’d been stressed about the increased Clicker sightings and you didn’t want to add more to the burden he was already carrying.

And so you stayed silent about it. You smiled at him and sent him on his way, and finally, finally when you were alone, you snuggled up back in bed.

You were freezing. Even with the thick blankets piled on top of you, you still were shivering, and your stomach ache stayed constant. Even your mind began to fuzz to the point where you didn’t know how long it had been since Joel left. You stopped caring about the need to pretend everything was fine—you just wanted him.

You weren’t in the living room when Joel got back. Normally you’d be there waiting since it was the closest comfy place to the door, so the moment you heard the door open you could run and embrace him in a flurry of kisses.

But you weren’t there.

“Baby?” he called out, shutting the door behind him.

No response.

He frowned and took his shoes off, then shed his thick snow jacket and gloves. Beneath he was just wearing dark-washed jeans and his signature flannel.

In your room, all Joel saw was a lump beneath the thick gray comforter. “Darlin’?” Joel crossed the room and knelt beside the bed. Were you asleep? Did—

“Joel?” Your voice was strained, small. You rolled over and Joel’s stomach sank. Your eyes were hazy, your cheeks slightly flushed. Had you been crying?

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. “What’s wrong?”

He cupped your cheek and your bottom lip quivered for a moment before you burst into tears.

“Oh, baby.” He promptly stood and got into bed with you, pulling you into his arms. You were so much smaller than him, so easy to pick up and hold against him. “I gotcha. Shh,” he soothed.

You cried quietly into his chest as you clung to him while he smoothed back your hair and pressed gentle kisses to your head. His words were soft murmurs.

“It’s okay darlin’, I’m here now. S’alright….deep breaths sweetheart, can you do that for me? Can you—oh, good girl. That’s it, just keep taking deep breaths for me…”

Eventually your sobs quieted, though a tear still fell down your cheek every now and then. After a few more minutes of holding you, Joel spoke again.

“What’s wrong, honey?” he prompted. “Can you tell me what happened?”

You sniffled. “Just….” Your brow creased. “Jus’ don’t feel good.”

Joel hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t want you to worry.” Your bottom lip trembled. “I didn’t want—“

“Hey, don’t start again,” he cooed softly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “You don’t ever have to think that ever again, you hear? I like worrying about you. You’re my baby, ‘s my job to take care of you.”

He saw your reaction to that—lips parting, brows relaxing, eyes going a little doe like.

“You like hearin’ me say that?” he murmured, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone, catching another stray tear. “Like that I take care of you?”

You nodded, eyes big and wide.

Joel kissed your forehead. “You need me to distract you a little bit baby? Make all the bad feelings go away for awhile?”

“Mhmm.” Your little voice was breathless.

Joel chuckled. “Alright honey. You just keep laying there n’ lookin’ pretty—don’t gotta do any of the work.”

Your head had been fuzzy before because of the sickness, but it was nothing compared to now. When Joel talked to you like this, held you like this…it made everything around him grow foggy.

He slid his hand beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and his index finger started to tease your bud over your panties. You squirmed.

“Wigglin’ already baby? I haven’t even done anything yet.” You could hear the smile in Joel’s voice.

His fingers slid past your underwear to dip into your wetness. You whined and tucked your face into the crook of his neck, embarrassed at how slippery you were already.

Joel chuckled and held you tighter. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Nothing wrong with bein’ ready.”

You whimpered as his fingers circled the outside of your entrance. You shook your head at his teasing. “Want your cock,” you whined so sweetly in his ear. “I can take it, promise….just want you to make it all better.”

“Awe baby,” Joel crooned, pressing another kiss to your hair. “Okay. Just give me a sec…”

He shifted to pull down his pants and boxers and toss them to the side. He was already hard against your hip. Laying side-by-side, your chest to his, Joel slid his length past your folds.

Oh….you could have sworn you forgot about your aches and pains right in that moment. He made you feel so full. He was so big, so thick and warm….you could feel him all the way up in your tummy.

Joel let out a sigh that bordered on a groan. “You’re so perfect, sweetheart. So good…”

He started to rock his hips gently and you whimpered, burying your face into his chest.

He chuckled. “So shy, baby. That’s okay, you just sit there…don’t gotta worry about a single thing.”

One of your legs hooked over his hip as his pace sped up and you clung to him the whole way through. You felt so…so…oh, you feel him dragging along your walls so nicely. You were absolute putty in his arms—Joel always made you feel that way, always gave you such big feelings it made you feel too small to hold them all.

“So good, baby,” he cooed. “Such a good girl, taking me so well…just lay there and let me fill you up—oh, you’re so tight around me princess…”

You could feel it then, that big feeling. The one that made you whimper and whine, trying to hide your face more than it already was. “Joel…”

“It’s okay, just let it happen.” His pelvis was rubbing against your bundle of nerves oh so nicely it made you dizzy. “Let me feel you finish on my cock, darlin’, you’re so good for me, so good…”

Every coo and murmur only brought you higher. You let out another high-pitched whine as the feeling started to become too much, too tight too hot too everything, oh you were right there, you…

You cried out as you reached your peak and then fell over the edge. Joel held you the whole way through as you clenched around him and he spilled inside of you, murmuring praises the whole time.

“Good girl, good girl….my pretty baby, you’re doing so well, taking my cock in that pretty pussy of yours….that’s it sweetheart…”

He rocked his hips gently to help bring you down from your high, slowly decreasing his pace until he came to an eventual stop.

He held you in his arms, your body against his. You hummed contentedly and nuzzled at his neck.

Joel smiled. “Feel better, sweet girl?”

“Mmm.”

Joel chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He kissed your forehead. “Why don’t we get in the bath for a bit to clean up, and then I’ll make you some soup? Nothing that will be too harsh on your stomach.”

You blinked drowsily and nodded. “Mhmm. I’d like that.”

Yes, you’d like that very much indeed.

[macgyvermedical]

Okay, this is not about writing. I want to learn basic first aid and how to assemble a first aid kit. I plan to search for some courses too, but I’d like a clear idea before diving in. I’d love to hear your advice on it. Always grateful for your blog— it’s such a valuable resource.

Hi!

First aid kits contain things that would be handy to have for an illness or injury you didn't forsee happening.

Store-bought first aid kits have gotten a little better than they were when I bought my first one in 2015, but they're still a complete crapshoot. Most of them contain the least adhesive bandages known to man, a pair of plastic tweezers, a single packet of gauze, two each of acetaminophen and ibuprofen, and if you're extra lucky, some plastic medical tape.

Which is great for: papercuts in fingers that don't sweat ever, cleaning tiny scrapes that don't need bandages, the perfect size of partially embedded splinters, and one (1) single headache. Maybe.

My advice: make your own.

The following are 2 options for lists of supplies:

The Basic Kit:

3-4 pairs of nitrile gloves that will fit over your sweaty, hand-sanitizer-covered hands (mediums if your hands are really tiny, otherwise larges)

1-2 disposable masks for if you get sick unexpectedly

Your favorite adhesive bandages (at least 20, in different sizes including extra large)

A breathing barrier for CPR

A zipper plastic bag

A small container of hand sanitizer

A small container of petroleum jelly

A small tube of hydrocortisone cream

Metal tweezers (and a few alcohol wipes to clean them)

Like 4 of whatever hard candy you hate the most (or 4-8 glucose tablets)

One of those fold-up pill containers containing at least 10 each of: acetaminophen, ibuprofen, 81mg aspirin, diphenhydramine, your favorite non-drowsy antihistamine, and loperamide (Label these. You're not gonna remember which is which. Promise.)

A few each of all the medications you take, just in case you forget them (especially emergency medications)

The Adventure Kit:

Everything in the Basic Kit, plus:

Like as many packets as you can fit of 4x4 sterile gauze

A way to clean water (purification tablets take up the least space)

More of your own medications

More zipper bags

Silk medical tape

Scissors

A bandanna or other medium-large square of fabric

3-4 of your least favorite high-calorie food bars

A waterproof sheet ("space blankets" are small and great at being waterproof, if nothing else (Though I do have a personal vendetta against space blankets. Ask me why sometime))

An elastic bandage

A fold-up splint if you're gonna be in an area that doesn't have sticks laying all over the ground

As for how to use this stuff- get a few friends together and get in touch with me. We can set something up via zoom.

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 21

word count: 8.8k

sorry for the wait, hope you guys enjoy!

The next day, though Harry had to be cooped up at the shop once more, he made sure to bring Aspen along. The girl sat perched by the front desk, swaying in her chair as Niall and Zayn kept her company while her boyfriend worked on another large last minute walk-in piece.

Aspen hadn't minded tagging along to the shop today. In fact, she liked being around Harry's world, seeing the environment he was so comfortable in. It was different from her own, rougher around the edges, but it fascinated her. The steady hum of the tattoo machines, the scent of antiseptic and ink in the air—it was all so uniquely him.

She sat at the front desk, her legs crossed at the ankle as she absentmindedly flipped through one of the shop's design books. Every now and then, her eyes drifted toward Harry's station where he was focused on a client, sleeves pushed up, forearms tense with concentration. He looked good when he worked, brows drawn together, tongue occasionally swiping across his bottom lip in focus. She felt warmth rise in her cheeks just watching him.

Zayn and Niall were keeping her company in the meantime, the two of them going back and forth in their usual banter, making Aspen giggle behind her hand.

"You know, I think I'd look real good with a full sleeve," Niall mused, stretching his arm out in front of him and squinting as if he were already picturing it.

Zayn snorted, shaking his head. "You're too indecisive. You'd get halfway through and regret it."

Aspen giggled as Niall shot Zayn an exaggerated glare. "Oi! I could pull it off." He turned to Aspen for backup. "Don't you think I'd look good with a sleeve?"

Aspen tilted her head, feigning deep thought before giving a shy little shrug. "I think it would suit you... maybe."

Zayn barked out a laugh, pointing at Niall. "Even Aspen doesn't sound convinced."

Niall groaned, slumping back dramatically in his seat, which only made Aspen giggle more. The conversation carried on lightheartedly, small jokes exchanged between them as she grew more comfortable with their dynamic.

"Okay, fine," Niall huffed. "No sleeve. But what about, like, a single bold piece? Something cool and mysterious. Maybe a dagger? A wolf? A dragon?"

Zayn raised a brow. "You sound like every dude who walks in here asking for their 'first ink' and then chickens out when the needle actually touches their skin."

Aspen covered her mouth as she laughed, her shoulders shaking. "Do people really do that?"

"More often than you'd think," Zayn smirked, leaning against the counter. "You should see some of the excuses we get. 'Oh, I forgot I had a meeting.' 'Oh, my girlfriend doesn't like tattoos.' 'Oh, I think I left my oven on at home.'"

Aspen giggled harder, imagining the scene unfolding.

Niall pointed at Zayn accusingly. "Listen, I may be many things, but a coward is not one of them. If I commit, I commit."

Zayn gave him a skeptical look. "That so?"

"Absolutely."

Aspen, still smiling, tapped a finger against the open design book in front of her. "Well... if you had to pick one right now, what would it be?"

Niall leaned over, scanning the page, before pointing to a classic anchor design. "That. Timeless. Rugged. Manly."

Zayn snorted. "Basic."

"Oh, come on!" Niall groaned. "I thought we were past judging people for classic ink choices!"

Aspen bit her lip to keep from laughing too hard, enjoying the easy back-and-forth between them. She liked this—being included, feeling like she belonged in their little world.

Her eyes flickered over to Harry again, watching the way he moved, the way he gently tilted his client's arm to get a better angle, the way he was so deeply focused. It still amazed her, how skilled he was, how much he cared about his craft. He made everything seem effortless.

She didn't even realize she was staring until Niall leaned closer and whispered, "You're drooling."

Aspen's face burned as she snapped her gaze back to him. "I—I am not!"

Niall grinned, nudging her arm. "S'fine, love, we get it. Your boyfriend's hot."

Zayn smirked, adding, "At least you're subtle about it."

Aspen groaned, burying her face in her hands as they both chuckled at her expense.

"Fine, fine," she muttered, shaking her head with a shy smile. "Let's change the subject."

"Aw, but this was getting good," Niall teased, but he relented when she shot him a playful glare.

Aspen took a sip from her water bottle, settling herself again before her curiosity got the better of her.

Aspen absentmindedly traced patterns along the condensation of her water bottle, the soft hum of tattoo machines filling the shop as she let the words roll off her tongue without much thought. "So... where were you guys the other day?"

She wasn't asking with suspicion—just curiosity. It was normal for them all to be busy, especially Harry and Zayn, but with both of them disappearing on the same day, she had assumed they had been working at the shop together.

Zayn, who had been scrolling on his phone, stilled almost imperceptibly. It was brief, barely noticeable, before he smoothly resumed, tapping his thumb against the screen in thought.

Niall, however, was as easygoing as ever, giving a nonchalant shrug. "Dunno. They weren't at the shop, I—"

Before he could finish, Zayn subtly nudged him under the counter, just enough to make Niall pause. The interruption was swift, casual, and Aspen didn't catch on to its meaning.

Niall, never one to be easily flustered, let out an easy chuckle. "Oh, wait, nah. I got my days mixed up," he corrected smoothly, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "Yeah, they were definitely here. You know how it is—busy day, tons of walk-ins. I wasn't here much, though. Just popped in for a bit."

Aspen nodded, easily accepting the answer. It made sense. Niall was always in and out, never one to stay planted in one place unless he had a reason to.

Zayn leaned back against the counter, arms crossed as he picked up the explanation. "Yeah, long ass day. Harry and I had some big pieces to do, so we were stuck here forever. Back-to-back appointments. Barely had time to eat, let alone breathe." His voice was smooth, perfectly composed, and it wasn't unusual for him and Harry to take on big projects.

Aspen didn't even think to question it further. In fact, she felt a little guilty for asking—if they'd had such a long day, she didn't want to seem like she was prying.

She stole a glance at Harry across the room. He was still deep in his work, head tilted in concentration, jaw set as he dragged the tattoo machine carefully over his client's skin. He looked so at home in his element.

She smiled softly to herself, brushing away any lingering thoughts. Harry had never given her a reason to doubt him, and besides, if something was wrong, he would tell her.

"Well, as long as you weren't getting into trouble," she teased lightly, taking a sip of her water.

Niall grinned, dramatically clutching his chest. "Me? Trouble? Never."

Zayn smirked, taking a slow sip of his drink, the picture of amusement but offering no further comment.

Aspen giggled at their antics, letting the conversation drift into something else, not noticing the fleeting glance Zayn and Niall exchanged. If she had, maybe she would've realized there was more to the story than they were letting on.

Aspen leaned forward slightly in her chair, resting her elbow on the desk as she idly twirled the cap of her water bottle between her fingers. The conversation had shifted naturally, moving from their usual banter to something a little more personal.

"So, what's the plan for you two, then?" Niall grinned, wiggling his brows between her and Zayn. "Aspen, you finally got yourself a big, brooding tattoo artist. What's next?"

Aspen blushed, the warmth creeping up her neck. She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "I don't know... we're just taking things as they come."

"Boring answer," Niall teased, leaning back in his chair. "Come on, give me something. Future plans? Marriage? White picket fence? Maybe some tattooed babies running around?"

Aspen nearly choked on her water, her face burning even hotter. "Niall!" she squeaked, eyes wide.

Zayn barked out a laugh, slapping a hand against the counter. "Too soon, man," he smirked. "Let 'em breathe."

"I'm just saying! You two are disgustingly cute." Niall stretched his arms behind his head. "If Harry wasn't already obsessed with you, I'd be worried."

Aspen tried to play off her embarrassment, but she couldn't stop the way her lips curled into a soft smile. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of her bottle again, and when she stole another glance across the room, she caught Harry's gaze.

He was already looking at her.

It was brief, just a flicker of his eyes before he turned his attention back to his work, but it was enough to send a pleasant warmth blooming in Aspen's chest.

Niall was still talking, something about how he was destined to be the world's best godfather whenever Harry and Aspen decided to have kids (which, in Aspen's opinion, was way too early to even think about), but she was only half-listening.

Because every time she glanced toward Harry, she caught him doing the same.

And every time their eyes met, it sent little flutters through her stomach.

"So what about you guys?" she asked, eager to shift the conversation away from herself. "What's your plan for the future?"

Zayn shrugged, taking a slow sip of his drink. "Haven't thought about it much. Business is good. I don't see myself doing anything else anytime soon."

"Fair," Aspen nodded. "And you, Niall?"

"Oh, I'm gonna be rich," Niall declared, pointing at himself with full confidence. "But like, stupid rich. Don't ask me how yet. Maybe I'll invent something. Or marry into money. Either way, I'll be set."

Aspen laughed, shaking her head. "Solid plan."

"Exactly," Niall grinned. "And speaking of plans... Aspen, be real with me—are you gonna stay with this guy forever, or what?"

Aspen opened her mouth to respond, but she didn't have an answer.

Forever?

Her gaze flickered back toward Harry. She wasn't even sure if he was listening to their conversation, but she knew that if she was being honest with herself... the idea of forever with him didn't seem so scary.

She just smiled, a little shy, a little uncertain.

"We'll see," she murmured.

And from across the room, Harry glanced up once more—just in time to catch her looking at him again.

Aspen shifted in her seat, her fingers absentmindedly twisting the cap of her water bottle as she debated whether or not to ask the question sitting at the tip of her tongue. She wasn't usually the type to pry, but curiosity had a way of gnawing at her when it came to Harry—especially when it came to the parts of his life he didn't bring up often.

"Can I ask you guys something?" she finally murmured, glancing between Niall and Zayn.

Zayn quirked a brow, while Niall leaned in like she was about to spill the most interesting gossip he'd ever heard. "Course you can, sweetheart," Niall grinned. "What's on your mind?"

She hesitated for a moment before voicing what she'd been wondering. "Has Harry ever talked about... past relationships? Like, has he ever been in love before?"

Niall and Zayn exchanged a look, one Aspen couldn't quite decipher. It wasn't amusement, nor was it discomfort—it was something in between, like they were deciding how much they should say.

"Depends on what you mean by 'in love,'" Zayn finally said, tapping his fingers against the counter. "If you're asking if he's had girlfriends before, then yeah, he's had a few. If you're asking if he's ever been in love? That's a different question entirely."

Aspen frowned slightly. "So... has he?"

Zayn sighed, tilting his head as he considered his answer. "I don't think so," he admitted. "Not the way you mean. Harry's had flings, some more serious than others, but he's never been the type to settle down. Not because he couldn't, just... he never found anyone he wanted to."

Aspen processed that quietly, her fingers still tracing idle patterns on her bottle. It wasn't a bad answer. If anything, it only made her feel more special—like she was different.

Still, she wasn't quite done with her questions.

"What about the way he talks about me?" she asked softly, suddenly feeling a little shy about the inquiry. "Does he... ever bring me up?"

Niall let out an exaggerated groan, throwing his head back. "God, Aspen, you have no idea," he whined. "The man does not shut up about you."

Aspen's eyes widened. "He does?"

"Constantly," Zayn smirked. "It's almost embarrassing, really. We could be talking about literally anything, and he'll find a way to bring you into the conversation. 'Aspen would love this.' 'Aspen was reading this book the other day.' 'Aspen said the funniest thing.' It's ridiculous."

Aspen's face heated instantly, her heart swelling at the revelation. She'd known Harry cared about her—he wasn't shy in the way he showed his affection—but hearing that he talked about her so often when she wasn't around made her feel warm in a way she couldn't quite describe.

"Yeah," Niall added, grinning. "And don't even get me started on the way he talks about you when he's drunk."

Aspen's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, he gets all sappy," Niall said, waving a hand. "Like, real soft. Talks about how much he likes you, how you make him feel different than anyone else ever has. It's kinda sweet, actually, if you ignore the fact that he sounds like a lovesick idiot."

Aspen's heart did a little flip in her chest. "He really says that?"

"Every damn time," Zayn confirmed, shaking his head. "And if you ask me, that's saying a lot. Harry doesn't open up easily. But with you? I think he's completely gone."

Aspen chewed on her bottom lip, trying to suppress the giddy smile threatening to take over her face. She'd known Harry felt something strong for her, but hearing it from his friends, from the people who knew him best, made it feel even more real.

After a moment, she gathered her thoughts enough to ask her next question. "Has he ever told you guys why he never got serious with anyone before?"

Niall and Zayn exchanged another glance before Zayn answered. "He's never given us a straightforward reason," he admitted. "But I think it has to do with trust. Harry's not the kind of guy who lets people in easily. He's seen too many people turn their backs when things got hard, so he stopped letting them get close in the first place."

Aspen frowned slightly, her heart aching at the thought. She knew Harry had his walls, knew he carried burdens he didn't always talk about. But the idea that he'd spent so much of his life keeping people at arm's length made her want to hold onto him even tighter.

"Well," she said softly, her fingers curling around the edge of the counter, "I hope he knows he doesn't have to worry about that with me."

Zayn studied her for a moment before nodding, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I think he does," he murmured. "And I think that's why you're different."

Aspen exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth spread through her chest. Maybe she was different. Maybe, despite everything, Harry had finally found someone he was willing to let in.

And maybe—just maybe—she was willing to let him in, too.

As Harry worked, the rhythmic hum of the tattoo machine filled the space around him, the buzz familiar and grounding. His hand was steady, movements precise as he filled in the last bit of shading on his client’s forearm. It was muscle memory by now, the way he worked—careful, methodical, ensuring every line was perfect. But despite how deep he was in his craft, his attention kept drifting elsewhere.

Aspen.

Every now and then, between dipping his needle into ink and wiping away excess, his gaze would flicker toward the front of the shop where she sat. She was perched on the chair, her legs tucked under her, absently twirling the cap of her water bottle between her fingers as she listened to whatever nonsense Niall and Zayn were spewing. She was smiling, her cheeks soft with warmth, and fuck—Harry swore he could feel that smile in his damn chest.

It was different, having her here. Not in a bad way—quite the opposite, really. It was grounding, a quiet reassurance that she was becoming a part of this life of his. A life he never thought he’d want to share so openly with someone.

His fingers tightened around the tattoo machine slightly. That thought—it was dangerous. Because there were parts of his life she couldn’t know. Not yet.

He swallowed, forcing his focus back on the piece he was working on. The secrecy—it wasn’t about not trusting her. He did. More than he cared to admit. But there were things in his world that were better left in the dark. Things that weren’t meant for someone like her—soft, kind, untouched by the shit he and Zayn were tangled up in.

Maybe one day, he’d tell her. But not now. Not when he could still shield her from it.

He exhaled, shaking off the heaviness pressing against his ribs, and refocused on finishing up.

Fifteen minutes later, he wiped down the tattoo one last time, nodding in satisfaction before wrapping it up. “Alright, man,” he said to his client, standing and stretching out his arms. “You’re all set. Just follow the aftercare instructions, and you’ll be golden.”

After handling payment and bidding the guy goodbye, Harry finally took a breath. His break had been long overdue.

As he walked over to the front of the shop, the scent of food hit him first. His brows lifted slightly in surprise as he spotted Aspen setting out plates in front of Niall and Zayn, her movements careful and deliberate as she made sure everyone had what they needed. His own plate was set aside for him, waiting.

His heart clenched at the sight.

She had cooked for them?

Something about that simple act of care made something deep in him ache.

Before he made his way over to grab his plate, he veered slightly, walking past Niall and—without hesitation—snagging a bite right off his plate.

“Oi!” Niall protested, pulling his plate away. “What the hell, mate? You've got your own!”

Harry chewed, smirking as he handed Niall back his fork. “I know,” he said easily with a shrug of his broad shoulders, “but if m'lady made it, I want it all.”

Aspen, who had just taken a seat, turned a deep shade of red at his words, her fingers curling in her lap as she ducked her head slightly.

Niall groaned, rolling his eyes as he snatched his plate back. “Christ, you two are disgusting.”

Harry grinned, but didn’t respond, instead making his way over to his own plate. Before sitting down, he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against Aspen’s cheek from behind.

She stilled for a second, then exhaled, shoulders loosening as a shy little smile played on her lips.

Harry took his seat next to her, grabbing his fork as he dug in. The second he took his first bite, he let out a hum of approval. “Fuck, baby. This is good.”

“She’s got skills,” Zayn agreed, shoveling another bite into his mouth. “Could open up a restaurant or some shit.”

Aspen’s cheeks were still pink as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s really not that big of a deal…”

“It is when all we usually eat is takeout,” Niall chimed in. “This is the best thing I’ve had all week.”

Harry chewed thoughtfully, tapping his fork against his plate before swallowing. “Dunno,” he mused, his lips curling into a slow, cheeky smirk. “I’ve had somethin’ better this week.”

Niall snorted. “Mate, there’s no way you’ve eaten anything better than this. We’ve all been living off gas station snacks and whatever the hell Zayn throws together when he remembers food exists.”

Harry simply leaned back in his chair, draping his arm over the back of Aspen’s. His smirk deepened as he tilted his head slightly toward her, voice dropping just enough to make her stomach twist. “Wasn’t talkin’ about the food.”

Aspen nearly choked on her bite of rice.

Her wide eyes snapped up to him, cheeks instantly burning as she realized exactly what he was implying. Her fingers curled against the napkin in her lap as she shot him a scandalized look, her lips parting slightly in disbelief.

Zayn, always one to catch on quickly, just chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. Niall, on the other hand, took an extra second before groaning in exaggerated disgust. “Christ, Harry. I did not need that mental image while I’m eating.”

Harry only grinned, winking at Aspen before casually picking his fork back up like he hadn’t just made her want to shrink into the floor.

Aspen, flustered beyond belief, pressed her lips together, glancing down at her plate as if it might save her from the warmth spreading all the way to her ears. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered, nudging his knee with hers beneath the table.

Harry let out a low chuckle, nudging her back. “But you like me anyway.”

She didn’t dignify that with an answer—mostly because it was true. And he damn well knew it.

Harry smirked, nudging Aspen lightly with his knee under the table. “Guess that means you’ll have to start cooking for us more often, yeah?”

Aspen rolled her eyes playfully but didn’t argue. Instead, she focused on eating her own food, her lips twitching slightly as the conversation between them carried on.

The energy was easy, lighthearted. They talked about everything and nothing—Niall complaining about a client who wouldn’t stop moving while getting tattooed, Zayn discussing the new pieces he and Harry had lined up, Aspen giggling at their banter.

As the laughter settled, the four of them fell into easy conversation, the clinking of utensils against plates filling the quiet lulls between their words. Harry sat comfortably next to Aspen, his arm draped lazily along the back of her chair, occasionally letting his fingers brush the ends of her hair. It was subtle—so subtle that if someone wasn’t looking, they wouldn’t notice—but Aspen felt every touch, every slight movement of his fingers, and it made her stomach twist in a way she wasn’t used to.

Zayn was the first to steer the conversation into something deeper, leaning back in his chair as he chewed. “So, what’s the plan for the future?” He raised a brow, glancing between them. “Y’know, since we’re all clearly on different paths here. You lot got it all figured out?”

Niall snorted. “Figure out what? That I’ll probably be covered head to toe in ink before I turn thirty and still be eating this girl’s cooking?” He gestured to Aspen with his fork, grinning. “Because if that’s the future, I’m pretty happy with it.”

Aspen smiled, warmth spreading in her chest at the compliment. “You act like I’ll be cooking for you forever,” she teased.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, don’t do me like that. You’d miss me if I stopped showing up to steal your food.”

Harry rolled his eyes, smirking as he took a sip of his drink. “You’re like a stray cat. Feed you once, and you never leave.”

Zayn chuckled. “That explains why he practically lives at the shop.”

Niall threw up his hands in mock offense. “You lot love having me around, don’t even try to deny it.”

Aspen giggled, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the question Zayn had asked. “But, um, I don’t really know yet,” she admitted softly. “I mean, I have ideas. I love books, so maybe something with that… but it’s hard to say.”

Harry glanced at her, taking in the slight uncertainty in her voice. He could tell she thought about it—probably more than she let on—but she wasn’t one to be loud about her ambitions. She kept them tucked away, only revealing them in small doses, and for some reason, that made him want to hear them even more.

“What about you?” Aspen nudged Harry’s arm lightly.

He took a slow bite, chewing as he considered his answer. “Dunno,” he said finally. “Tattooin’ is what I love. Keeps me steady, keeps me busy. But…” He paused, swirling his fork against his plate. “I guess I wouldn’t mind somethin’ more down the road.”

“More?” Aspen tilted her head, intrigued.

Harry glanced at her, a small smirk playing at his lips. “What? You think I wanna be slingin’ ink forever?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “You’re really good at it.”

His chest swelled slightly at the compliment, but he only shrugged. “Yeah, but sometimes… I think about what it’d be like to settle down a bit.”

That made Aspen pause, her fork hovering mid-air. “Settle down?”

Harry’s smirk didn’t fade, but there was something softer in his eyes now. “Yeah,” he said simply. “Someday.”

Aspen lowered her gaze, heat crawling up her neck. The thought of Harry—this inked-up, reckless, sometimes smug but always caring man—talking about settling down was almost impossible to picture. But at the same time… it wasn’t.

“What about you?” Harry’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

She blinked up at him, then quickly shook her head. “I—I don’t know,” she murmured. “I never really thought about it.”

Harry hummed, studying her carefully before offering her a teasing grin. “Guess I’ll have to change that, then.”

Aspen’s heart stuttered in her chest, and before she could even process his words, Niall groaned dramatically.

“Christ, you two are disgustingly cute. Can we eat in peace without watchin’ you make heart eyes at each other?”

Zayn chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re just jealous.”

Niall scoffed. “Jealous my ass. I like my peace. Not my fault these two make it impossible.”

Zayn smirked as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Speaking of impossible,” he started, glancing over at Niall with a knowing glint in his eye. “Didn’t you go on that date the other week? The one with that girl you wouldn’t shut up about?”

Aspen perked up immediately, turning her attention to Niall, who suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. She had never heard anything about Niall dating, and now she was curious.

“Oh?” Aspen tilted her head, eyes bright with interest. “Who’s this mystery girl?”

Niall groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Why do you always have to bring shit up, man?” he grumbled at Zayn before exhaling dramatically. “It was just a date. Nothin’ serious.”

“That’s not what you were saying last week,” Zayn shot back smugly.

Aspen turned fully in her chair, leaning in closer with excitement. “Come on, tell me! I need details.”

Harry snorted beside her, clearly enjoying Niall’s misery as he took another bite of his food.

Niall gave them all an exasperated look before slumping back in his seat. “Her name’s Elena. Met her at a café—well, more like she bumped into me and spilled coffee all over my jeans.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. “She was all flustered and apologetic, tryin’ to clean me up, and I was just standin’ there like an idiot. But we got talkin’, and I don’t know… she was easy to talk to.”

Aspen smiled at the way his voice softened slightly, like he hadn’t meant to sound so fond but couldn’t help it. “That sounds cute,” she mused. “So? How was the date?”

Niall shrugged. “It was good. Took her to dinner, talked a lot. She’s studying psychology, so she’s always analyzin’ people. Pretty sure she was psychoanalyzin’ me the whole time.”

Zayn chuckled. “That’s probably not hard.”

Niall shot him a look before continuing. “Anyway, she’s nice. Sweet. Smart as hell. But I dunno, she’s busy with school, and I’m always at the shop. We haven’t really talked much since.”

Aspen frowned slightly, sensing that there was more to it than just being busy. “Do you like her?”

Niall hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… yeah, I guess.”

Zayn scoffed. “You more than ‘guess.’ You texted her three days straight after the date.”

Aspen gasped, her eyes lighting up. “Oh my god, Niall!”

Niall groaned again, dropping his head against the table. “I hate you all.”

Harry, who had been relatively quiet, finally smirked and chimed in. “So, what’s stoppin’ you? If you like her, ask her out again.”

Niall lifted his head just enough to glare at him. “You make it sound so easy.”

Aspen tapped her fingers against the table thoughtfully before an idea struck her. “Wait! What if I helped?”

Niall narrowed his eyes. “Help how?”

“Well,” Aspen began, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, “you said she’s in psychology, right? I actually have a class with her. We’re not super close or anything, but I could… I don’t know, maybe put in a good word for you?”

Zayn barked out a laugh. “Oh, this is gold.”

Niall groaned for what seemed like the hundredth time, dragging his hands down his face. “Jesus. This is humiliatin’.”

“It’s not humiliating!” Aspen argued. “Think of it as… giving you a little push in the right direction.”

Harry chuckled beside her, shaking his head. “That’s dangerous, mate. Aspen’s got a way of getting what she wants.”

Aspen elbowed him playfully but turned back to Niall with an encouraging smile. “I’ll be subtle, I promise. Just casual, ��Oh, Niall’s such a great guy’ kind of stuff.”

Niall sighed dramatically. “If this backfires, I’m blamin’ you.”

Aspen grinned. “Deal.”

Zayn smirked. “This is the most entertaining lunch I’ve had in weeks.”

As they continued eating, the conversation naturally flowed into playful teasing and joking, but Aspen made a mental note to follow through on her promise. If there was a chance she could help Niall get the push he needed, she’d gladly take it.

Aspen, still burning from Harry’s words, buried her face in her hands. Harry only grinned wider, reaching over to steal another bite from Niall’s plate, completely unbothered.

As the conversation carried on, Aspen couldn’t help but steal glances at Harry—at the way he fit so easily into the dynamic, at the way he teased and laughed and looked at her like she was something he wanted to keep close.

And for a little while, Harry let himself sink into it.

No stress, no secrets.

Just this. Her.

He’d hold onto it for as long as he could.

Harry sat back in his chair, absently twirling his fork between his fingers as conversation carried on around him. The food was good—great, actually, because Aspen had made it—but if he was being honest, he wasn’t fully present. His mind kept slipping, getting caught up in memories that were much more intoxicating than anything else in the room.

He’d been doing his best to keep himself engaged, nodding along when Niall teased Zayn about something, adding in a comment here and there, but all it took was one glance at Aspen, one moment of catching the soft curve of her lips as she smiled, or the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, and he was gone again.

His grip tightened slightly on his fork as his mind drifted back to that night in his office. He could still feel her, taste her, the phantom sensation of her lips and tongue making his stomach coil with heat. The way she had looked at him—wide-eyed, eager, completely wrapped up in him—had nearly ruined him. He’d had plenty of hookups before, but none of them stuck in his head like this, none of them made him crave more than just the physical. But Aspen? She was burned into his mind, into his fucking soul.

And the bathroom. Christ.

He swallowed hard, taking a sip of his drink to keep himself grounded, but it didn’t help much. He could still see the way she’d knelt for him, how shy she had been but how determined, how she’d hesitated but only for a moment before she found her rhythm. The contrast between her softness and the way she had wrecked him had his head spinning even now. He’d never been so completely fucking whipped for someone, never felt this all-consuming urge to take and give all at once. The way she’d looked up at him through her lashes, her fingers barely able to wrap around him, her lips stretched as far as they could go—it had been enough to make him lose all control.

He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself subtly as he forced himself to refocus. He had to get a grip. It wouldn’t do him any favors to sit there getting lost in his own head while they were all supposed to be enjoying a meal. He glanced over at Aspen, catching the way she was laughing at something Niall said, completely unaware of the way she had him tied in knots.

She had no idea what she did to him.

Harry exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair before speaking up, his voice deliberately casual. “Hey, babe,” he said, shifting his attention to Aspen. “Think you could help me move a few things around in my office?”

Aspen blinked, surprised by the sudden request. “Oh,” she said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, of course.”

Harry smirked, pleased with her easy agreement. Truthfully, there wasn’t much that needed moving, but with Niall and Zayn getting caught up with clients, he had a perfect excuse to steal her away for a few moments. He needed a break, and more than that, he wanted to be alone with her—just her.

“Tryin’ to get her alone, are we?” Niall teased, wiggling his brows as he stood from the table to grab his supplies.

Zayn chuckled, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Smooth, mate.”

Harry rolled his eyes, standing as well before placing a firm hand at Aspen’s lower back, guiding her toward the hall leading to his office. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered, though the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away.

Aspen followed quietly, her heart picking up its pace just from the warmth of his palm against her. There was something about the way he touched her—casual yet possessive, like he was always reminding her that she was his. She tried not to overthink it, but the way her stomach fluttered made it impossible.

The moment they stepped into his office, Harry shut the door behind them, leaning against it for a second as he took her in. She looked soft under the dim lighting, her features gentle but curious, and for a split second, he forgot why he even made up the excuse in the first place.

“So… what are we moving?” Aspen asked, glancing around the office.

Harry tilted his head slightly, dragging his lip ring between his teeth as he considered her. Then, with a slow grin, he shrugged. “Dunno,” he admitted. “Might’ve just wanted to get you alone.”

Aspen’s cheeks flushed instantly. “Harry,” she scolded, but there was no real bite to it.

“What?” He smirked, stepping closer, his hands finding her hips with ease. “Can’t a man want some time with his girl?”

Aspen’s breath hitched, her hands instinctively pressing against his chest to create the smallest bit of distance, but Harry only squeezed her hips gently, pulling her in just enough to make her heart race.

“You—” She swallowed, trying to compose herself. “You could’ve just said that instead of pretending you needed help moving things.”

Harry hummed, dipping his head to brush his nose against hers. “Mm. Could’ve,” he mused. “But this way was more fun.”

Aspen’s lips parted slightly, her resolve slipping just from the heat of his proximity. He had this effect on her—one look, one touch, and she was undone.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” she murmured.

Harry grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek before pulling back just enough to look her in the eye. “Good,” he said simply. “Because you do the same to me.”

Aspen barely had a second to process his words before Harry closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. His hands moved from her hips to her waist, fingers pressing firmly against the fabric of her top as he pulled her even closer. She melted into him instantly, her own hands slipping up to cup his face, thumbs grazing along his jawline as she sighed softly against his lips.

It started slow, sweet, like they had all the time in the world to explore each other. Harry kissed her with an intensity that sent warmth spilling through her veins, his lips moving over hers with a tenderness that contradicted the way his fingers flexed against her waist. It had been a long day, a long week, and this was what they needed—just the two of them, no distractions, no rushed moments stolen between the chaos of their lives.

But as much as Harry wanted to savor this, his self-control started slipping the second Aspen let out the softest whimper against his mouth. His grip tightened, his lips parting to deepen the kiss, tongue swiping against hers in a way that had her knees weakening beneath her. Aspen clung to him, her fingers curling into the collar of his shirt as she let herself drown in him.

Harry groaned softly, one hand leaving her waist to tangle in her hair, angling her head just how he wanted as he took his time tasting her. The soft scent of her perfume, the warmth of her body pressed against his—it was overwhelming in the best way. He could stay like this forever, but then Aspen pressed just a bit closer, her body molding against his like she was meant to be there, and Harry nearly lost it.

His lips moved from hers, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, down to the soft skin of her neck. Aspen gasped, tilting her head to give him more access as his teeth scraped lightly against her pulse point. He smiled against her skin when he felt her shiver, his other hand gripping her waist even tighter.

“Harry,” she whispered, voice breathy, and it sent a shudder down his spine.

It took everything in him to pull back, his forehead resting against hers as he caught his breath. His chest rose and fell heavily, his grip on her tightening before he forced himself to let go completely.

Aspen blinked up at him, lips swollen and eyes dazed. “Why’d you stop?” she asked softly, her voice laced with curiosity and the faintest hint of disappointment.

Harry chuckled, his hands finding her hips once more as he gave her a gentle squeeze. “Because, sweetheart,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss to the corner of her mouth, “if I keep going, I’m gonna start something I can’t finish.”

Aspen’s face turned a deep shade of red at his words, and she quickly dropped her gaze. “Oh,” she squeaked out in a breath, suddenly very interested in the buttons on his shirt.

Harry grinned, loving the way she got all shy on him. “Cute,” he mused, nudging her chin up with his fingers so she’d look at him again. “C’mon, little mouse. Have a seat.”

Aspen obeyed, settling onto the small sofa against the wall, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she tried to recover from the heat still lingering in her veins.

Harry grabbed his sketchbook from the desk before sitting beside her, his arm draped along the back of the couch as he flipped to a fresh page. “I needed a break anyway,” he murmured, tapping his pencil against the paper.

Aspen peeked at him, still feeling a little breathless. “What are you gonna draw?” she asked, her voice softer than usual.

Harry smirked, eyes flicking to hers before looking back at the blank page. “Dunno yet,” he admitted. “Maybe you.”

Aspen’s heart skipped at that, but she only tilted her head slightly, a confused smile pulling at her lips. “What do you mean?” she asked softly.

Harry stilled for a moment, debating whether he should keep it to himself or let her in on the little secret he had been holding onto for months. A small smirk played at the corner of his lips as he exhaled, deciding that maybe it was time.

Instead of answering right away, he flipped through his sketchbook, fingers dragging over the edges of the pages as he searched for something specific. Aspen watched curiously, her brows knitting together when she noticed how careful he was being, almost hesitant.

And then he turned the book toward her.

Aspen blinked. Her lips parted slightly as her gaze landed on the first drawing—a sketch of her, sitting beneath a tree, completely lost in her book. The details were so precise, so tenderly drawn, she could almost feel the sunlight filtering through the leaves above her, just like it had been that day during their camping trip.

Her throat tightened. “Is this…?”

“The first time I sketched you,” Harry finished for her, voice softer than usual. “Back at the campsite.”

Aspen reached out, her fingers barely grazing the page as she stared at it, taking in every detail. “You… you drew this back then?” Her voice was breathy, almost disbelieving.

Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. You just… I dunno, you looked so peaceful sitting there. I couldn’t help it.”

Aspen’s chest ached in the best way possible. She turned the page, revealing another sketch of her—this one of her standing by Zayn’s car, arms crossed, deep in thought. And then another of her sitting at the tattoo shop, nose buried in a book, oblivious to everything around her. There were so many.

Page after page, she found herself staring at different versions of herself through Harry’s eyes. Some were quick, rough sketches, as if he had drawn them in a hurry before the image slipped from his mind. Others were detailed, shaded with such care that they looked almost lifelike.

She swallowed thickly, emotions swelling in her chest as she reached another drawing—one that looked fresher, the graphite still bold and untouched by time. It was her, curled up on the couch, wearing the oversized hoodie she had stolen from Harry the other night.

“I drew that one a couple nights ago,” Harry admitted, watching her reaction closely. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Aspen’s fingers trembled slightly as she turned to face him. “You never told me,” she whispered.

Harry held her gaze, his usual cocky demeanor slipping into something more vulnerable. “Didn’t think I needed to,” he murmured. “You’re just… always on my mind, I guess.”

Aspen’s heart stuttered in her chest. The weight of his words settled deep in her bones, making it hard to breathe for a moment. She didn’t know what to say, so instead, she reached out and laced her fingers through his, squeezing his hand in silent understanding.

Harry let out a breath and flipped to the back of the sketchbook. “That’s not the only thing I’ve been working on,” he admitted, flipping past a few blank pages before stopping at something else entirely.

Aspen frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as she realized it wasn’t another sketch—it was handwriting. Lyrics.

She tilted her head, reading the words on the page.

"Sweet creature, had another talk about where it’s going wrong… but we’re still young, we don’t know where we’re going, but we know where we belong…”

Aspen’s breath hitched. She looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Harry… this is—”

Harry cut her off with a nervous chuckle, rubbing his jaw. “Yeah, I’ve been dabbling with the guitar,” he admitted. “Words just kinda… flow sometimes.”

Aspen traced the title with her fingertips, her heart swelling at the sight of it. Sweet Creature.

“It’s about me, isn���t it?” she asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Harry smirked, but there was a softness behind it. “Who else would it be about?”

Aspen bit her lip, a deep warmth spreading through her chest. She wanted to ask him to play it for her, but something about the way he was looking at her—like he wasn’t quite ready to share it completely—made her hold back.

Instead, she turned the page, revealing another song title scribbled onto the next sheet.

"Meet Me in the Hallway."

Aspen’s brows knitted together as she read through the lyrics, the weight of the words pressing down on her chest. There was something haunting about them, something aching, as if each line bled with regret. The melody was absent, but she could feel it in the rhythm of the syllables, in the spaces between the words where silence spoke just as loudly.

Her fingers traced over the ink, eyes scanning over the phrase again and again.

"Just let me know I'll be at the door, at the door Hoping you'll come around Just let me know I'll be on the floor, on the floor Maybe we'll work it out..."

She swallowed thickly, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. “This one feels…” she trailed off, trying to pinpoint the exact emotion clawing at her chest.

Harry, who had been watching her reaction closely, answered before she could. His voice was quiet, low. “Guilty?”

Aspen’s head snapped up, and when their eyes met, she understood immediately. This wasn’t just a song. It was them.

It was all the nights she had spent wondering what she had done wrong, why he had looked at her like she was both too much and not enough all at once. It was every moment he had pushed her away despite the way his body betrayed him, lingering too close, brushing against her like he couldn't help himself.

It was the space he had put between them, and the silence that had suffocated her when she hadn't understood why.

Aspen’s chest tightened, her fingers curling around the edge of the sketchbook. She had never asked him about those days, about why he had acted the way he had. Some part of her had been too afraid of the answer.

And yet, here it was—laid bare in ink and paper, more honest than he had ever been aloud.

“Harry…” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, exhaling through his nose as he ran a hand through his curls. “I know,” he murmured, his eyes flickering away for a second before coming back to her. “I fucked up back then.”

Aspen sucked in a shaky breath. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Harry cut in, firmer this time. His jaw tensed, his fingers gripping the fabric of his jeans. “I need to. Because I know how I treated you before, and I don’t ever want you t'think for a second that it was because of you.”

Aspen’s heart twisted painfully in her chest. She searched his face, her own emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She had spent so long convincing herself that she had imagined the tension, that she had misread the way his eyes had lingered on her, the way he had always seemed to fight against something when he was near her.

And now, hearing him say it outright, the confirmation was almost too much.

“I don’t think that anymore,” she admitted, her voice soft, reassuring. “Not now.”

Harry let out a slow breath, his shoulders dropping as if he had been holding onto something heavy for too long. His fingers inched toward hers, hesitant at first, until Aspen reached for him on her own, closing the distance.

His skin was warm, rough at the fingertips, and yet he held her hand with a gentleness that made her chest ache.

Aspen studied him for a long moment, taking in the little signs of his discomfort—the way his knee bounced slightly, the way his thumb rubbed absentmindedly over her knuckles, as if grounding himself. She could see the vulnerability in his face, the unspoken weight behind his words.

Slowly, a small smile pulled at her lips. “I think it’s beautiful,” she murmured. “Both of them.”

Harry’s eyes flickered up to meet hers, searching for any trace of dishonesty. “Yeah?”

Aspen nodded. “Yeah.”

For a second, he just stared at her, and then something in him seemed to settle. His grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly, and a small, genuine smile spread across his lips.

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Didn’t plan on showing you these t'day,” he admitted, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his tone.

Aspen squeezed his hand, her heart swelling with something deep and warm. “I’m glad you did.”

They sat there, fingers intertwined, the sketchbook still resting between them like a silent bridge to all the things they had never said. And for the first time in a long time, neither of them felt the need to fill the silence.

Because for once, it wasn’t heavy. It wasn’t suffocating.

It was simply them.

A quiet stillness settled between them, warm and familiar, as Aspen gently traced the edges of the sketchbook with her fingertips. The weight of everything they had just shared lingered in the air, unspoken yet understood. Harry, still holding her hand, let his thumb lazily graze over her knuckles, grounding himself in the moment. He wasn’t sure if it was the intimacy of her learning about his songs, or if it was simply the way she looked at him—like he was something good, something worth knowing—but a sense of peace washed over him.

Without thinking, he shifted closer, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his side. Aspen let out a quiet breath of surprise but didn’t resist, instinctively tucking herself against him. Her cheek pressed softly against his shoulder, and Harry relished the feeling of her fitting so perfectly against him.

For a moment, they sat like that, just breathing in each other’s presence.

Then, Harry tilted his head down, brushing his lips against her temple. It was slow, lingering, like he wanted to imprint himself into her skin. “Didn’t know how much I needed this,” he murmured, voice low and thick with something tender.

Aspen smiled, her fingers finding the hem of his sleeve and lightly toying with the fabric. “Needed what?” she asked softly.

Harry pressed another kiss against her hair, his lips barely leaving her skin as he whispered, “You. Just you, sugar.”

Aspen felt her chest tighten in the best way, a warmth spreading through her limbs at his words. She turned slightly in his hold, looking up at him with those soft, doe-like eyes of hers. The affection in them made something deep in his chest clench, a feeling so strong it nearly stole his breath.

Without hesitation, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, lazy kiss. It wasn’t rushed or filled with desperation—it was something deeper, something sweeter. His lips moved against hers with a careful kind of reverence, as if every kiss was meant to tell her all the things he struggled to put into words.

Aspen sighed against his mouth, her hand sliding up to rest against his chest, fingers curling slightly into his shirt. She felt his heartbeat beneath her palm—steady, strong, real.

Harry couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, pulling her impossibly closer. “God, you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered between kisses, voice hushed like he was speaking a secret only for her.

Aspen’s cheeks warmed, and she buried her face against his neck, a quiet giggle escaping her lips. “You always say that.”

Harry chuckled, nuzzling against her. “’Cause it’s true.”

She hummed in response, her fingers drawing small patterns against his chest. The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t awkward or uncertain. It was filled with the quiet kind of love that didn’t need to be spoken to be felt.

But then Harry, feeling the way she melted into him, feeling the way her presence made everything better, suddenly had the overwhelming urge to say it out loud.

The words formed on his tongue before he could second-guess himself.

“I love you.”

Aspen stiffened slightly against him, her breath catching.

Harry felt his heart stutter, a rare flicker of nervousness crawling up his spine. He hadn’t planned on saying it—not yet, not now—but the moment had felt too right to hold it back. And now, waiting for her response, he felt completely, utterly exposed.

Aspen slowly pulled back just enough to look up at him, her wide eyes searching his face as if trying to determine if she had heard him correctly.

Harry held her gaze, unwavering. He didn’t regret saying it. Harry was more so nervous if he had said it too soon, or if it was too much right now.

Aspen’s lips parted slightly, her throat working as she swallowed. She looked so soft—so pure in the way she was taking in his words, like she wanted to tuck them away somewhere safe.

Then, almost shyly, she ducked her head, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that made Harry’s chest tighten. Her fingers played with the hem of his sleeve again, fidgeting. And then, in the quietest, sweetest voice, she whispered, “I love you too.”

Harry swore his heart stopped for a second.

A slow, breathy chuckle left his lips, pure relief flooding through him. “Yeah?” he murmured, tipping her chin up so she had no choice but to look at him again.

Aspen nodded, still impossibly shy, but her eyes held no hesitation. “Yeah.”

Harry felt something shift inside him, something settle. He leaned down, pressing another lingering kiss to her lips, his grip around her tightening like he never wanted to let go.

“Sweetest thing,” he whispered against her mouth.

Aspen smiled against his lips, and when they pulled away, she nestled back into his side, her fingers tracing absentminded shapes against his arm.

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, hearts steady and full.

And for the first time in a long time, Harry felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[lunarruled]

While she was fully aware that it was Leon's actual job to make sure everything ran smoothly at the bar, Kyleigh had decided that he was okay in her book, and that meant he was now going to fall under her protection. There was just something about him, she really couldn't put her finger on it. He was different than anyone else there. At one point it was starting to drive her crazy not being able to figure out what it was but as the night went on business did pick up and she didn't really have the chance to think about it. Which she liked, the half lycan hated jobs that got boring and allowed her mind to wander. Only once did she need to call him over when two very drunk men started shoving each other around, knocking into other customers and spilling their drinks. Those men were easily carried away from the bar and presumably out of the club. Other than that the hours seemed to fly by, and before she knew it the head bartender was telling her that her shift was over and she could clock out. The tips weren't bad at all, if things kept up this way she would be able to get a better room to stay in and then maybe even a small place to rent. Of course there was no way she could leave without saying goodbye to her new friend, searching around the floor until she spotted him standing in his spot so he could keep an eye on things. "Hey Stretch!" She greeted Leon as she approached him. "Just wanted to thank you again for earlier before I head out for the night." Once more she was met with this feeling of something else surrounding him, but without a single clue what that could mean.

He was doing what he promised, coming to see how the newbie was doing and if she needed him to step in anywhere. Leon knew how opening nights could be to someone not accustomed to extremely popular nights or club. So it was nice to see how well she was taking it all in stride. However, he wasn't making himself interfere with her work either. He was on the customer side of the bar drinking his water that was very much needed before getting back to his work. "I'm noticing." Leon answers as the water is placed back upon the top of the bar. It was at least nice to see she was one of the more recent hires that put in actual work and didn't just stand around doing the bare minimum. There would be no comments from him, it wasn't his place. He was just a bouncer, granted with many years of experience, but he wasn't a bartender. The only ones who had room to comment were the others working alongside her behind the counter and he would leave it as such. A chuckle left him as he shook his head at her teasing, probably something he should have seen coming. "Hey, better to see everyone in the club." Leon counters with a shrug. "Oh now you're the one telling me that?" His brow arches as hazel eyes look her over before giving a nod. "Alright, I got your back and you got mine." His hand rests flat on the bar top for a moment before giving it a few pats and a nod. "I'll see you later." A wink and off he goes back into the crowd to get back to work, watching the crowd for any unusually or unsightly behavior that would require him intervening.

[vaguely-concerned]

just going about my day idly contemplating how some of the ways hawke can interact with a romanced anders are not at all unlike how they interact with leandra (and a bit of carver too, especially with a purple hawke), and then thought about my hawke in the timeline where he romances anders and was hit straight in the face with 'was he ever actually in love, or was he just desperately trying to renegotiate with his mother's ghost in any way he could' and now i need to lie down. this is the power of dragon age 2

[cuteniaarts]

Digitalised + coloured + redesigned version of my Suiren and Vaatu sketch from two days ago, as promised!!

Coming up with Suiren’s design was a very long process of trying and failing because after you’ve drawn 9+ different versions of one character, the creativity starts to run a little dry, but I’m actually really proud of this one, she looks absolutely adorable <3

(Also yeah I did mostly just scribble Vaatu’s pattern because who has the energy to draw the all out accurately. Not me, that’s who, I’m chronically tired. People who draw him on the regular have my utmost respect. He’s still a funky little guy though :D)

Bonus, Raava incessantly screaming inside Suiren (and being completely ignored because Suiren is tired of her) while all this is happening:

[spamtoon]

i would take their poison

Sketch + Line Art for those Clicking Under the Cut(tm) (archival purposes honestly)

[earl-grey-crow]

.

[quirkle2]

as a huge spyro year of the dragon fan i Hate the reignited trilogy they took all the charm and nostalgia out of it BUT ... spyro's walking/running animation ? they perfected that.

[e77y]

Trying to fix my resume ☝️🤓 Small problem: I sound like a loser no matter what

[musical-chick-13]

Oh not me avoiding a wildly popular piece of media that I’d probably actually like out of sheer spite.

[kaylor]

Real question promise I’m not a troll lol but do you think Kaylor would ever get back together? Seems like a lot of trauma happened there and Taylor would just date someone else

stranger things have happened!!! but fr i would not count on it or hinge your happiness on the possibility of some kind of triumphant reunion or whatever. i understand why it would seem romantic and narratively satisfying but unfortunately real life has a way of getting in the way of that kind of stuff. sometimes it's better to just move on and appreciate it for what it was.

[prosebushpatch]

Was trying to figure out why Hansel and Gretel randomly appeared in a book I was reading, with candy house backstory and everything, in a story that otherwise was not directly informed by a specific fairy tale. At least to my knowledge, it all felt pretty original, until the villainous antagonist started spinning straw into gold and mentioned being betrayed by a miller's daughter and I cupped my head in my hands like, ah, th-the way to defeat him... they gotta figure out his true name... this whole time... he's been rumpelstiltskin.

[bigwraith]

i cant remember any tags you have blocked

[penguinloki]

Sometimes I read a fic that contains all of my favorite tropes, is well characterized with a good plot that gives me literal and chest pain because the angst hits just right. And then in the last few paragraphs the writer just fucking ruins it in a way that makes me reconsider my thoughts on prison abolition.