#i have such cool friends and my cool friends have so many other cool friends ...

[hsjazebel]

Meant to be

Summary: Y/N never expected a college party to change anything—until she met Harry. What starts as a quiet connection over books and movies slowly turns into something deeper, proving that some things are simply meant to be.

Wordcount: 32k+ (I have been carried away, sorry 😅)

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day! ♡ Here’s a little story about love finding you when you least expect it. Hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

Masterlist

— — —

The party was louder than she expected.

Y/N wasn’t sure why she had let Charlotte convince her to come. Maybe it was the way her roommate had pleaded, eyes wide with excitement, promising it would be “just for an hour.” Or maybe it was the fact that she had spent too many Friday nights curled up in bed while the rest of campus buzzed with energy.

She had thought, just for once, that maybe she should say yes.

But now, standing in the middle of the crowded living room, she regretted it.

The music thumped against the walls, the bass so deep she could feel it in her ribs. Laughter and voices blurred together in an endless hum, broken only by the occasional shout of someone calling out to a friend. The air was thick—too many people, too much perfume, too much heat.

She tugged at the hem of her sweater, suddenly self-conscious. She wasn’t dressed for this, not like the other girls in shimmering tops and short skirts. She had gone for comfort—jeans, a fitted top, her favorite oversized cardigan—but now she felt out of place, like she hadn’t read the unspoken dress code.

Charlotte had disappeared almost immediately, swallowed up by the crowd, probably off to find that guy she’d been texting. Y/N had tried to follow for a bit, but the sea of people made it impossible to keep up.

Now she was alone, pressed against the wall, holding a drink she hadn’t even sipped.

She exhaled, glancing toward the front door. Maybe she could just leave. Charlotte wouldn’t mind—she was too caught up in her own night.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted an open door leading to the balcony.

Without thinking, she headed for it, slipping outside and closing the door behind her.

Cool air washed over her, a welcome contrast to the stifling heat inside. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and leaned against the railing, her fingers wrapping around the cold metal. The city stretched out in front of her, distant lights flickering against the night sky. From here, the noise of the party was muffled, just a dull hum beneath the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle over her.

And then—

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”

The voice was smooth, warm. British.

Her eyes snapped open.

Turning slightly, she found herself face to face with someone she recognized immediately.

Harry Styles.

Her breath hitched, just for a second.

She had seen him around before, of course. It was hard not to notice him. He wasn’t the typical loud, overly confident guy that thrived in these kinds of settings, but he had a presence that made people gravitate toward him anyway. Maybe it was the way he carried himself—calm, collected, always with an air of quiet amusement, like he was in on some inside joke no one else knew about.

Now, standing in front of her in the dim balcony light, he looked impossibly at ease.

His dark curls were pushed back messily, a few strands falling over his forehead. A pair of thin-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, framing sharp green eyes that studied her with quiet interest. His loose button-up was unbuttoned at the top, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the intricate tattoos winding down his forearms.

He held a drink casually in one hand, the other tucked into his pocket, like he had all the time in the world.

She swallowed.

“I—uh—yeah,” she finally managed. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

His lips quirked, as if her answer didn’t surprise him at all. “Figured as much.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And how exactly did you figure that?”

He took a slow sip from his drink before answering. “Well, for one, you’ve been out here for at least five minutes and haven’t checked your phone once.” His eyes flickered toward the door. “And two… you look like you’re trying to disappear.”

She huffed out a quiet laugh. “That obvious?”

Harry smirked. “A little.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city lights flickered in the distance, and the air between them felt charged—not uncomfortable, but something else entirely.

Then, he shifted slightly, turning more toward her.

“I’m Harry, by the way.”

She let out a small breath, amused. As if she didn’t already know.

“I know,” she admitted, then immediately winced. “I mean—everyone knows who you are.”

Harry chuckled, the sound low and warm. “That’s fair.” He tilted his head slightly. “And you are…?”

“Y/N.”

He repeated it, softer this time, like he was testing the way it felt on his tongue. Then, with a small smile, he extended his hand. “Well, Y/N, it’s nice to officially meet you.”

She hesitated for just a second before slipping her hand into his.

His palm was warm, his grip gentle but firm.

“Nice to meet you too, Harry.”

His fingers lingered a second longer than necessary before he let go.

He leaned his elbow against the railing, glancing at her thoughtfully. “So, if parties aren’t your thing… what would you rather be doing right now?”

She bit her lip, thinking. “Watching a movie, probably.”

Harry’s brows lifted slightly. “Anything in particular?”

She hesitated, then decided to be honest. “A romcom.”

His lips curled into a slow smile. “You like romcoms?”

She nodded. “I grew up watching them. Notting Hill, 10 Things I Hate About You, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days… I know they’re cheesy, but I love them.”

He studied her for a second, then let out a soft chuckle. “Cheesy doesn’t mean bad. Those are classics.”

She tilted her head. “Wait… you actually like them too?”

Harry smirked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Course I do. I mean, have you seen When Harry Met Sally? It’s got my name in it. That’s a sign, don’t you think?”

She laughed—really laughed, for the first time that night.

Harry watched her, his expression softer now, like he was pleased to be the reason behind it.

The conversation flowed easier after that. They debated over the best romcom of all time, exchanged favorite scenes, and argued about which movie had the most unrealistic yet satisfying ending. Somewhere in between, Y/N forgot about the party altogether.

But eventually, her phone buzzed in her pocket—Charlotte, probably looking for her.

She sighed, realizing she had to go.

Harry noticed. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah, I think so.” She hesitated, then, feeling unusually bold, added, “But… maybe next time, I’ll skip the party and just watch a romcom instead.”

His smile was slow, almost knowing. “Maybe next time, you won’t have to watch it alone.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

And as she stepped back inside, disappearing into the noise and the crowd, she couldn’t help but hope—just a little—that this was only the beginning.

———

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the sound of Charlotte’s voice.

“Well, well, well,” her roommate drawled, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “Look who’s finally awake.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face into the pillow. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” Charlotte said, walking over and flopping down onto the bed beside her. “And you have some explaining to do.”

Y/N peeked at her through one eye. “Explaining?”

Charlotte grinned, far too awake for this early in the morning. “Don’t play innocent with me. You disappeared at the party. And when I finally found you again, you looked… different.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “So spill.”

Y/N sighed, rolling onto her back. “There’s nothing to spill.”

Charlotte gasped dramatically. “Lies! I saw you talking to Harry Styles.” She poked Y/N’s side. “You—quiet, book-loving, avoider of all social gatherings—somehow ended up alone on a balcony with the most intriguing guy on campus.”

Y/N felt her face heat up. “It wasn’t like that,” she muttered.

Charlotte smirked. “Then what was it like?”

Y/N hesitated. The truth was, she wasn’t exactly sure.

“It was… nice,” she admitted after a moment. “We just talked.”

Charlotte studied her, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Talked? That’s it?”

Y/N nodded.

Charlotte huffed, flopping back against the bed. “You’re impossible.”

Y/N smiled, sitting up and stretching. “Did you at least have fun?”

Charlotte let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, absolutely. And I might have secured myself a coffee date with Mason.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Mason?”

“You know, Harry’s friend? Tall, kind of scruffy, ridiculously charming?” Charlotte waggled her fingers. “I think we have a connection.”

Y/N laughed softly. “I’m happy for you.”

Charlotte sat up again, her expression turning devious. “And speaking of coffee dates…”

Y/N’s stomach fluttered. “No.”

Charlotte pouted. “Come on! I think he likes you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We talked for, like, twenty minutes.”

Charlotte shrugged. “That’s plenty of time to make an impression. And if he really likes you, you’ll see him again.”

Y/N didn’t answer. Because the thought had already crossed her mind.

Would she see him again?

———

She did.

Three days later.

At the campus café.

Y/N had been curled up in a corner booth, a warm cup of tea beside her as she flipped through a book for class. The café was quiet, filled mostly with students studying or catching up on assignments. The hum of conversation and the occasional clinking of cups created the kind of atmosphere she loved—calm, steady, familiar.

And then, a shadow fell over her table.

“Y/N.”

She looked up.

And there he was.

Harry Styles, standing beside her table, a cup of coffee in one hand and a curious tilt to his head. He wasn’t wearing his glasses today, but she still recognized the quiet amusement in his eyes.

“Hi,” she said, feeling her heart pick up speed.

His lips twitched. “Mind if I sit?”

She hesitated for only a second before shaking her head. “Go ahead.”

Harry slid into the seat across from her, setting his coffee down. “Didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Alright, I might have hoped I would.”

Her stomach did an embarrassing little flip.

“What are you reading?” he asked, nodding toward the book in her hands.

She glanced down, suddenly self-conscious. “Uh, Wuthering Heights.”

His brows lifted, impressed. “Intense choice.”

She shrugged. “It’s for class, but I like it.”

Harry studied her for a moment, then leaned back in his chair, stretching out comfortably. “So, tell me—are you one of those people who think Heathcliff is romantic, or do you see him for the walking red flag that he is?”

Y/N blinked in surprise. “You’ve read it?”

He smirked. “I have.”

She bit her lip, eyeing him. “And?”

Harry sighed dramatically. “Look, I get the passion, the whole ‘soulmate across time and space’ thing, but let’s be honest—if Heathcliff were around today, he’d be sending late-night ‘u up?’ texts and brooding over his ex’s Instagram posts.”

Y/N let out a surprised laugh. “That is… disturbingly accurate.”

Harry grinned. “And you? Are you a Heathcliff apologist?”

She shook her head. “I think he and Cathy deserved each other—because no one else should have to deal with that level of drama.”

Harry chuckled. “Harsh, but fair.”

There was something about the way he looked at her—curious, amused, like he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. It made her stomach twist in a way she wasn’t used to.

A beat of silence stretched between them.

Then—

“So,” Harry said, breaking the moment, “you never told me your verdict.”

Y/N frowned. “My verdict?”

“The best romcom of all time.”

She smiled, relieved by the lighter topic. “That’s impossible to answer.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Alright. Then let’s make it simpler. What’s your go-to comfort movie?”

She thought for a second. “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.”

His eyes lit up. “Classic.”

She nodded. “It’s just fun, you know? The whole fake dating thing, the ridiculousness of it all. And Kate Hudson? Iconic.”

Harry smirked. “And the ‘You let it die!’ scene? A cinematic masterpiece.”

Y/N laughed. “Exactly.”

Harry studied her for a moment, then said, “I like that.”

Y/N suddenly felt warm under his gaze. She looked down, tracing the rim of her cup. “What about you?”

Harry pretended to think. “Mmm… Notting Hill.”

She grinned. “Oh, come on. You just like it because of the ‘I’m just a girl’ scene.”

He laughed. “Maybe. Or maybe I like the idea that two people from completely different worlds can still find their way to each other.”

Something about the way he said it made her stomach flutter.

The conversation drifted after that—talk of books, movies, little things that made them both feel at home. The more they spoke, the more Y/N felt that strange, unexpected ease settle between them.

And when she finally glanced at the time, she realized an hour had passed without her even noticing.

“I should probably get to class,” she murmured, closing her book.

Harry nodded, but didn’t look particularly eager to leave.

As she stood, sliding her bag over her shoulder, he tapped his fingers against the table. “So…”

She looked at him expectantly.

He smirked. “Movie night?”

Her heart skipped. “Are you asking me out, Harry Styles?”

His expression was all mischief. “Maybe.”

She bit her lip, pretending to consider. Then, feeling unusually bold, she said, “Okay.”

Harry’s smirk turned into something softer.

“Good,” he said.

And as she walked away, she could feel his eyes on her the whole time.

———

The library was quieter than usual.

Y/N liked it that way. She liked the solitude, the way the world seemed to shrink down to just her and the words on the page. It was calming—predictable.

What she didn’t expect, however, was a voice breaking through the silence.

“Didn’t peg you as the type to hide away in a library for fun.”

She looked up, already knowing who she would see.

Harry stood in front of her table, a familiar smirk on his lips, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He had a notebook tucked under his arm and a coffee in hand, looking completely at ease despite the way his presence sent her heart racing.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “And yet, here you are.”

Harry hummed, sliding into the chair across from her. “Touché.”

She watched as he set his coffee down and flipped open his notebook, as if he belonged there—like this was routine.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Are you actually here to study, or are you just bothering me for fun?”

Harry grinned. “Can it be both?”

She huffed, biting back a smile as she returned her gaze to her book. But she could still feel his eyes on her.

A beat passed before he spoke again. “Wuthering Heights, huh? Still brooding over Heathcliff?”

Y/N sighed, looking up. “You do realize I read more than one book, right?”

Harry’s smirk widened. “Do you, now?”

She rolled her eyes and turned the book so he could see the title.

His gaze flickered over the cover before he raised an eyebrow. “White Nights?”

Y/N tilted her head. “Surprised?”

Harry leaned back in his chair, studying her. “A little. Didn’t take you for a Dostoevsky kind of girl.”

“And what kind of girl did you take me for?” she challenged.

He smirked. “Jane Austen, maybe. Brontë sisters, definitely. But Russian literature? That’s a surprise.”

She shrugged. “I like stories about lonely people.”

Something flickered in his expression, but it was gone too fast for her to catch.

“Lonely people,” he repeated. “And here I thought you just liked tragic love stories.”

Y/N hesitated, then said softly, “Aren’t they the same thing?”

Harry studied her for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze. Then, in a voice quieter than before, he said, “I guess they are.”

Silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like something had shifted—like she had let him see a part of her she didn’t show to just anyone.

Then, after a moment, Harry’s lips twitched up into a smile. “So, is White Nights a re-read, or am I catching you in the middle of a first-time experience?”

She exhaled, grateful for the change in tone. “Re-read.”

His grin widened. “Interesting. That means you must really like it.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Are you about to judge my taste in books?”

Harry smirked. “Not at all. I was actually going to say… maybe I should let you convince me to read it.”

Y/N studied him. “You’ve never read it?”

“Not yet,” he admitted.

A small smile played on her lips. “Maybe you should.”

Harry’s eyes sparkled. “Maybe I will.”

———

That night, her phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number.

Unknown [9:07 PM]: So, lonely people, huh? Convince me why I should read White Nights.

Y/N frowned, staring at the screen. Who the hell—?

Y/N [9:08 PM]: Who is this?

A pause. Then—

Unknown [9:08 PM]: Wow. That hurts.

Her heart skipped.

She squinted at the message, then at the number, but it wasn’t saved in her contacts.

Y/N [9:09 PM]: Seriously. Who is this??

A few seconds passed before a reply popped up.

Unknown [9:09 PM]: It’s Harry.

She blinked.

Then—

Y/N [9:10 PM]: …How did you get my number?

Harry [9:11 PM]: Your lovely roommate gave it to me.

Y/N groaned out loud. “Charlotte!”

Across the room, Charlotte barely glanced up from her laptop. “Hmm?”

Y/N waved her phone in the air. “Did you seriously give Harry my number?”

Charlotte smirked. “Oh. So he finally texted you?”

“Charlotte.”

“What?” she said innocently. “He asked, and I figured it would take you forever to do it yourself.”

Y/N let out a long, dramatic sigh, turning her attention back to the screen.

Y/N [9:12 PM]: I hate you.

Harry [9:12 PM]: No, you don’t.

She rolled her eyes.

Y/N [9:13 PM]: Maybe you should read it and see for yourself.

Harry [9:14 PM]: Bold of you to assume I have time for Russian literature.

Y/N [9:15 PM]: Bold of you to assume I’d let you borrow my copy.

Harry [9:16 PM]: So possessive. I like it.

Y/N [9:17 PM]: You’re impossible.

Harry [9:17 PM]: And yet, here you are, still texting me.

She bit her lip, trying not to smile.

Harry [9:18 PM]: You still good for our not-date movie night?

Y/N’s stomach flipped.

Y/N [9:19 PM]: You mean the highly academic film screening of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days?

Harry [9:20 PM]: Exactly. For research purposes.

She hesitated, fingers hovering over the screen.

Y/N [9:21 PM]: Yeah. I’m still in.

His reply came almost instantly.

Harry [9:21 PM]: Good.

She stared at the word for a long time, ignoring the way her face felt impossibly warm.

———

“You’ve checked your phone three times in the last minute.”

Y/N shot Charlotte a glare from across the room. “I have not.”

Charlotte smirked, finishing the last touches of her makeup. “You so have.”

Y/N huffed, locking her phone and tossing it onto the bed like that would somehow make her friend drop the topic. “I’m just checking the time.”

“Mm-hmm.” Charlotte turned, arms crossed. “Because, of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that Harry is coming over.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her face felt warm. “It’s just a movie night.”

Charlotte grinned. “And yet, you’ve changed your sweater twice.”

Y/N groaned, flopping back onto her pillows. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Charlotte grabbed her bag, checking her reflection in the mirror. “I think it’s cute that you’re all flustered over him.”

“I’m not flustered.”

Charlotte raised a brow. “You are so flustered.”

Y/N groaned again, covering her face with a pillow.

A knock at the door made her sit up way too fast.

Charlotte smirked knowingly. “That’s my cue.”

Y/N watched as Charlotte opened the door, revealing Harry—standing there in his usual effortless way, glasses on, a bag of snacks in one hand.

“Oh, hey, Harry,” Charlotte greeted with a grin, throwing Y/N one last look. “I was just leaving.”

Harry glanced between them, looking mildly amused. “Leaving?”

“Yep.” Charlotte winked at Y/N. “Have fun.”

And before Y/N could even form a reply, she was gone.

Harry stepped inside, brow raised. “Did I just interrupt something?”

Y/N exhaled, shaking her head. “No. She’s just being Charlotte.”

Harry chuckled, setting the snacks down. “That explains a lot.”

Settling onto the couch, Y/N pressed play on 27 Dresses, tucking her legs under her.

Harry sat beside her, stretching his arm along the back of the couch. The space between them was small—too small—and she tried not to focus on the way his knee almost brushed hers.

“Have you seen this before?” he asked.

She scoffed. “Please. At least twenty times.”

Harry smiled. “Figures.”

For the first half hour, they made occasional comments about the movie—Harry teasing her about knowing all the lines, Y/N defending why it was a romcom classic.

But eventually, the room grew quieter. The soft glow of the screen cast shadows across Harry’s face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the way his glasses slid down his nose.

And Y/N—despite her best efforts to stay focused on the film—felt her eyelids growing heavy.

She shifted slightly, trying to stay awake, but the warmth of the room, the steady sound of the dialogue, and the presence of Harry right beside her made it impossible.

At some point, she leaned just a little too far to the side—

And before she could stop herself, her head landed gently on his shoulder.

For a second, she almost panicked.

But Harry didn’t move. Didn’t pull away.

If anything, he relaxed.

She felt him shift slightly, adjusting so that she fit more comfortably against him.

And just like that, sleep took over.

———

The next morning, the first thing Y/N registered was warmth.

A slow, steady warmth surrounding her, lulling her in a sleepy haze.

Then, she felt movement.

Her eyes fluttered open, and it took her a moment to realize:

She was curled into Harry’s side, his arm draped loosely around her shoulders.

The snack bag was on the floor. The TV screen had long since gone black. The early morning light was filtering through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the room.

And Harry—

Was still asleep.

His head rested against the back of the couch, lips slightly parted, curls falling across his forehead. His glasses were slightly askew, one arm still tucked around her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Y/N barely breathed.

She should move. Should sit up, stretch, do anything to break the moment before he woke up.

But before she could, she felt him shift.

A slow inhale. A stretch.

And then, with a small frown, Harry’s eyes blinked open.

For a second, he looked confused. Disoriented.

Then, his gaze landed on her.

They both froze.

Silence.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.

And then—

Harry’s lips twitched, still laced with sleep. “Morning.”

Y/N swallowed. “Morning.”

Another pause.

Then, realization dawned in Harry’s sleepy eyes. He glanced down at their position—her body still tucked into his side, his arm still loosely wrapped around her.

And yet—he didn’t move away.

Instead, his mouth curved into something softer.

“Didn’t mean to steal your couch,” he murmured.

Y/N huffed out a quiet laugh. “Didn’t mean to steal your shoulder.”

Harry smiled.

And for a moment, they just… sat there.

Close. Warm. Unmoving.

Y/N was still sitting on the couch, trying to process the fact that she’d just spent the night curled up against Harry Styles, when she heard him stretch beside her.

She glanced over. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, one hand running through his curls, the other adjusting his glasses.

And he looked… way too good for someone who had just woken up.

Before she could stop herself, she spoke.

“Do you—” She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. “Do you want some coffee?”

Harry turned to her, blinking.

Then, the corner of his mouth lifted.

“Are you offering me coffee, Y/N?”

She rolled her eyes, standing up. “I regret it already.”

Harry chuckled, pushing himself up from the couch. “Too late.”

———

They ended up in the small dorm kitchen, Y/N fumbling with the coffee machine while Harry leaned against the counter, watching her with amusement.

“I didn’t peg you as the type to function without caffeine,” he said.

She scoffed. “Who says I function at all?”

Harry smirked. “Fair point.”

Once the coffee was ready, she handed him a mug, grabbing one for herself before hopping up onto the counter.

Harry took a slow sip, humming in approval. “Not bad.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Not bad?”

“Yeah.” He nudged her knee playfully. “Could be better.”

She gasped in mock offense. “You are such a snob.”

Harry grinned. “I have high standards.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling.

They fell into comfortable conversation, talking about everything from classes to 27 Dresses to how Harry apparently had a very strong opinion about the correct way to make tea.

And Y/N—despite the fact that she had woken up to a situation that should have been extremely awkward—found herself relaxing.

That was, of course, until Charlotte walked in.

She stopped in the doorway, taking in the sight before her—Harry standing in the kitchen, hair still tousled from sleep, drinking coffee from their mugs.

Y/N sitting on the counter, wearing the same clothes from last night.

Charlotte’s eyes widened.

Then, a slow smirk spread across her face.

“Oh,” she said, drawing out the word. “Good morning.”

Y/N groaned. “Charlotte—”

Charlotte ignored her, turning to Harry with an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Wow, Harry. You’re still here?”

Harry, to Y/N’s horror, grinned.

“Apparently, I make decent company, and your couch is not too bad” he said, sipping his coffee.

Charlotte gasped dramatically. “Did Y/N let you sleep on the couch? That is so rude.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Charlotte.”

Charlotte pressed a hand to her heart. “I mean, I was gone all night, you totally could’ve used my bed—”

Y/N almost choked on her coffee. “Oh my God, stop.”

Charlotte just smirked, eyes dancing between them. “I’m just saying…”

Y/N glared. “You’re the worst.”

Harry chuckled, setting down his mug. “I should probably get going before Mason starts wondering where I am.”

He turned to Y/N then, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he murmured.

She swallowed. “Yeah. Anytime.”

Charlotte wiggled her eyebrows.

Y/N shot her a warning look.

Harry—completely amused—grabbed his bag and made his way to the door.

“See you later, Y/N.”

And with that, he was gone.

Y/N barely had time to let out a breath before Charlotte pounced.

“So.”

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Don’t.”

Charlotte ignored her, flopping onto the couch with a wicked grin. “You slept together.”

“Oh my God—”

“Not like that,” Charlotte amended. “But still. You slept together.”

Y/N groaned. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Charlotte scoffed. “Oh, honey. It so was.”

———

Y/N had spent the entire morning convincing herself that nothing had changed.

That waking up next to Harry hadn’t felt different.

That the way he had smiled at her over coffee hadn’t made her stomach flip.

That she wasn’t replaying every second of their time together like some lovesick idiot.

But she was failing—miserably.

And Charlotte wasn’t helping.

“So,” her roommate drawled, flipping through a magazine on her bed, “are we just gonna pretend that last night never happened?”

Y/N, sitting at her desk, sighed. “Nothing happened.”

Charlotte scoffed. “You cuddled on the couch, made him coffee in the morning, and practically gazed at each other the whole time. That’s something.”

Y/N turned to glare at her. “I wasn’t gazing.”

Charlotte smirked. “Oh, honey. You were gazing.”

Y/N groaned, dropping her head onto her desk.

Charlotte laughed, tossing the magazine aside. “Look, all I’m saying is—he’s different, isn’t he?”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

Charlotte shrugged. “I mean, I’ve never seen you act like this over a guy. You usually keep your distance, but with Harry… I don’t know. You let him in.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest—but nothing came out.

Because, as much as she hated to admit it, Charlotte wasn’t wrong.

Harry was different.

And that was what scared her the most.

———

That afternoon, she tried to focus on studying.

Tried being the keyword.

She was in the library, sitting at her usual spot by the window, but the words on the page blurred together.

Her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it, already knowing who it was.

Harry [3:27 PM]: You’re not skipping the library today, are you?

Y/N [3:28 PM]: I’m literally here right now.

Harry [3:29 PM]: Good. Would’ve had to question your commitment to academia otherwise.

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips.

A minute later, she heard a chair scrape against the floor.

She looked up.

Harry slid into the seat across from her, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Hi,” he said, smiling.

Y/N tried to ignore the way her heartbeat definitely sped up. “Hi.”

He set down his bag and pulled out a book. “What are we studying today?”

Y/N sighed. “I’m trying to get through this reading, but it’s not working.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Do you want me to quiz you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You just got here.”

He smirked. “And?”

She shook her head, amused. “Fine.”

And so, they studied. Or at least, they tried.

Every time Harry read a passage aloud, he did it with exaggerated dramatics, making Y/N laugh.

Whenever she got an answer right, he’d tap his fingers against the table like a drumroll.

At some point, he reached for her book, fingers grazing hers—and neither of them pulled away.

The touch was brief, but her skin tingled where it had been.

Harry didn’t say anything, but his gaze flickered to hers, something unspoken lingering between them.

For the first time, Y/N felt like she was on the edge of something.

And she didn’t know whether to step forward—or run.

———

An hour later, Y/N packed up her things.

“I should go,” she murmured.

Harry nodded, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Alright.”

She hesitated before speaking. “Thanks for—y’know. Keeping me sane.”

Harry’s lips quirked. “Anytime.”

As she turned to leave, he called after her

“Oh, Y/N?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

Harry reached into his bag, pulling out a book.

She frowned as he held it out to her.

“The Symposium?” she read aloud, eyebrows raised.

Harry smirked. “Figured you might like it.”

She stared at him. “Harry, this is your copy.”

He shrugged. “So?”

“So, I know you annotate all your books.” She flipped through the pages, confirming her suspicions—his familiar, neat handwriting filled the margins. “I can’t take this.”

“You can,” he said simply. “And you will.”

She glanced up at him, confused. “But… why?”

Harry held her gaze for a moment, then leaned in slightly.

“Because I think you’ll understand it,” he murmured.

Y/N’s breath caught.

Because there was weight behind his words—something deeper than just a casual book recommendation.

She swallowed, gripping the book a little tighter.

“…Thank you,” she said softly.

Harry smiled. “See you later, Y/N.”

And as she walked away, The Symposium pressed against her chest, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

That, maybe, she had just crossed a line she could never go back from.

———

The night wrapped around them like a quiet secret. The streets were nearly empty, the world softened by the golden glow of streetlamps.

Y/N and Harry walked side by side, their steps unhurried, as if neither of them wanted the night to end just yet.

She wasn’t sure how they ended up here—how a simple goodnight after studying turned into do you want to take a walk? But she didn’t regret saying yes.

It had been a week since that night at her apartment, since they’d woken up together on the couch, and things between them had shifted. Not in an obvious way—there were no declarations, no grand confessions—but something had changed.

Harry had always looked at her like he was intrigued. But now?

Now, he looked at her like he knew. Like he was just waiting for her to admit it, too.

“You’re quiet,” Harry murmured beside her.

She glanced at him. “So are you.”

He smiled, a little crooked. “Guess I don’t always have something to say.”

“Impossible.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Harsh.”

They walked a little further before she spoke again, a quiet admission in the stillness of the night.

“I read your notes.”

Harry turned his head slightly. “My notes?”

“In The Symposium.”

Realization flickered in his expression. “Right.”

She hesitated. “There was one part that stuck with me.”

His gaze softened. “Which one?”

Y/N swallowed.

“The part where you wrote that love is about recognizing something familiar in someone else.”

Harry didn’t speak right away.

Then, quietly, he said, “That’s my favorite part.”

Y/N stopped walking.

So did he.

The silence between them stretched, heavy with something.

She could feel her pulse thrumming in her wrists, in her throat, in the space between them that was growing smaller by the second.

Harry took a step closer. Slowly. Like he was giving her time to stop him.

She didn’t.

His gaze flickered to her lips, just for a second, before meeting her eyes again.

His voice was softer when he spoke next. “You realize I like you, don’t you?”

Y/N felt something tighten in her chest.

Because, of course, she did.

But hearing it—feeling it—was different.

She exhaled, barely a whisper. “I think I do now.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Good.”

He didn’t move right away.

He just looked at her, taking her in, like he was memorizing the moment.

Then, so softly it was almost imperceptible, his fingers brushed against hers.

Y/N inhaled sharply.

And that was all it took.

Before she could second-guess it, before she could talk herself out of it, she closed the space between them.

She barely had time to process the warmth of his skin, the steady rise and fall of his breath, before his hand came up, fingers grazing her jaw as he leaned in—slow, careful, waiting.

And then—

Then, he kissed her.

It was soft at first. Just a whisper of a touch, a silent question against her lips.

But the moment she kissed him back, the moment her fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater, it changed.

It deepened.

Harry let out a quiet sound—like he had been waiting for this longer than he cared to admit—and then his hands were on her waist, pulling her closer, closer, like the space between them was unbearable.

Her heart was racing.

She could feel the warmth of his palms, the faint scrape of his stubble against her skin, the way he kissed her like he was learning her—like he wanted to know exactly how she fit against him.

And she let him.

By the time they pulled apart, her head was spinning, her breath uneven.

Harry’s forehead rested against hers, and he let out a quiet laugh.

“What?” she asked, still breathless.

He shook his head, smiling. “Nothing. Just… glad I finally did that.”

She bit her lip, trying—and failing—not to smile.

“Me too.”

Harry’s thumb brushed against her waist absentmindedly.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked.

Y/N nodded.

But neither of them moved.

Not right away.

And when they finally started walking again, Harry’s fingers found hers, intertwining them effortlessly—like they had been waiting to do that, too.

———

It had only been a couple of weeks since that night—their first kiss under the dim glow of the streetlights—but things between them had changed so much.

Not in an overwhelming way. Not in a way that made Y/N feel rushed or pressured.

But in a way that made her soften.

In a way that made it impossible to ignore how utterly smitten Harry was.

It was in the way he always found a reason to touch her, even in the smallest ways—fingertips brushing against hers when they walked, absentmindedly tucking her hair behind her ear when she was focused on something, resting his chin on her shoulder just because he could.

It was in the way he remembered things, like how she liked her coffee and how she hated the sound of loud chewing. In the way he always waited for her outside class even when they had different schedules. In the way he looked at her, like he was always choosing to.

Like he couldn’t believe she was real.

Today was no different.

Y/N sat curled up on the library couch, actually trying to get some work done, while Harry sat beside her, flipping through a book he had absolutely no interest in.

At least, that’s what she assumed—because instead of reading, he was staring at her.

She sighed, setting her pen down. “Harry.”

“Hm?” He looked unbothered, too comfortable as he rested his head against the back of the couch.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

She shot him a pointed look.

He smirked, unfazed. “Looking at my girlfriend?”

Her stomach flipped.

Even after two weeks, the word still did something to her.

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were warm, and Harry knew it.

With a quiet chuckle, he reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers, absentmindedly running his thumb across the back of her palm.

“Should I be studying?” he murmured, lips twitching.

She nodded. “Yes.”

Harry pretended to consider it. Then, with zero hesitation, he squeezed her hand and dragged it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“Too bad,” he murmured against her skin.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

This boy.

She was so doomed.

———

Y/N had tried to keep things subtle.

Not because she wanted to hide it, but because Charlotte was the biggest menace when it came to teasing her, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that just yet.

Too bad Charlotte noticed everything.

Like the way Y/N smiled at her phone when she thought no one was looking. The way she suspiciously left the dorm at night with an “I’ll be back later.” The way she got flustered when Harry’s name came up in conversation.

She had her suspicions, but she didn’t have proof.

Until now.

Because today, as Charlotte was walking toward the dorm, she saw them.

Saw Harry pressing a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. Saw the way she leaned into him, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And that was all she needed.

“I KNEW IT!”

Y/N jumped, turning to find Charlotte standing a few feet away with the biggest, most victorious grin on her face.

“Oh my God,” Y/N muttered.

Harry—who clearly wasn’t fazed at all—simply raised an eyebrow. “Did you, though?”

Charlotte turned to him, still grinning. “YES. I just didn’t have evidence.” She turned back to Y/N, wiggling her eyebrows. “But now I do.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Charlotte sing-songed.

Harry chuckled, amused, before leaning down and whispering into Y/N’s ear, “I’ll leave you to it, sweetheart.”

She sighed dramatically. “Coward.”

He smirked, kissed the side of her head one last time, and walked away, leaving her to deal with Charlotte’s relentless interrogation.

Y/N was so in trouble.

———

After an hour of being mercilessly teased, Y/N flopped onto her bed, groaning in frustration.

Charlotte smirked from across the room. “Oh, come on, you love me.”

“Debatable,” Y/N muttered, reaching for her phone.

She scrolled through her messages before typing.

Y/N [10:08 PM]: I officially hate you.

Harry [10:09 PM]: That’s unfortunate.

Y/N [10:09 PM]: Charlotte won’t stop teasing me. This is your fault.

Harry [10:10 PM]: Guess I’ll just have to make it up to you, won’t I?

Y/N froze, rereading the message at least three times.

Before she could even think of a response, there was a quiet knock on the door.

Charlotte and Y/N shared a look.

Y/N opened it—and there he was.

Harry stood there, a lazy smirk on his lips, holding a small pastry in a white paper bag.

“Hey,” he murmured.

Y/N blinked.

Charlotte—who was watching the whole thing unfold—snorted. “Oh, my God. You are so whipped.”

Harry didn’t even deny it.

He just shrugged, handed Y/N the bag, and kissed her temple like it was the most normal thing in the world.

When she looked inside, she found her favorite pastry, the one from the café across campus.

She looked back up at him, eyes soft. “You went all the way to—“

Harry simply shrugged. “Felt like it”

Y/N pressed her lips together, trying not to melt right then and there.

Charlotte, however, had no such restraint. “You two are disgusting”, she muttered, rolling her eyes before dramatically throwing a pillow over her head.

Harry chuckled, then leaned down and whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Worth it.”

And just like that, Y/N knew—

She was so, so screwed.

[sonrium]

After seeing the boy shoot what look like star bolts and green beams from his eyes, Starfire is convinced he is a lost Tameranian.

Thankfully, he doesn't seem to be hostile once he finishes with a strange piece of technology that sucked in a glowing creature while speaking a language Starfire had never heard before. Starfire flies over to him, excited at the prospect of meeting another from her planet, but as she approaches, he backs off, eyeing her wearily in the air. She tries speaking in her native tongue, but his weariness transforms into confusion.

She understands the problem immediately. He must be from one of the distant regions of Tameran. "Kiss. Kiss. For language, you must kiss." Starfire points at her lips, tapping them.

There was no comprehension on his face, but he moved closer, clearly curious at what she was trying to say. He must have been from the truly isolated tribes to not know such a basic skill.

Deciding a demonstration would work best, she takes his hand and leads him back to the top of Titans where the rest of the Titans are waiting.

Hearing Starfire speaking in Tamerainian, they keep silent and wait. This is when Starfire pulls Robin forward, kisses him the way she had when she first arrived on earth to learn his language. She points for the floating boy to do the same.

The boy is taken aback even backing up a little in shock, but Starfire repeats everything while gesturing more emphatically with each repetition.

Until the boy approaches Robin and Starfire, clearly absolutely lost and bewildered with the situation, but willing to go along with it. Before anybody can react, he grabs Robin by his shirt and kisses him. Everyone is momentarily stunned by the action.

Pulling back, he asks in perfect English, "So... why did I need to do that?"

"Why is it always him?" Beastboy crosses his arms, "Why can’t I be the one to get a little smooch action from a cute alien? Save some for the rest of us Boy Wonder." He grumbled.

Robin, cleared his throat, "It was for you to learn English so we could communicate."

"Huh? Why didn't you just ask? My English is fine despite what my grades say. I just didn't have a clue what she was saying.” The mysterious boy pointed at Starfire. “I still don’t get what the ‘kissing’ was about."

Raven facepalms without a word. Honestly, she should have expected that.

"You are a Tameranian, are you not?"

"What's a Tameranian?"

Huge shit-eating grins spread across Beastboy's and Cyborg's faces. They look at each other and not in sync. Arm in arm they start singing. "Boy Wonder and Wonder Boy, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G~"

Starfire clasps both of her hands over her mouth with a gasp. "I give you many sorrows, dear Robin. I believed him a Tameranian and intended to be the participant of the language transfer."

"No. It's okay." Robin tries to salvage what was left of his dignity, but it was somewhat undermined the red spreading on his cheaks and the laughter behind him. Turning to the newly dubbed Wonder Boy, he inclined his head. "I'm sorry for the confusion. We should have checked before subjecting you to such embarrassment."

A wide grin spreads across Wonder Boy's face, "I wouldn't call that kiss an embarrassment, but it definitely needs work. Try using more tongue next time."

Cyborg and Beastboy collapse to the floor in howls of laughter. They were going to be great friends.

The Wonder Boy, who they learned was named Danny, turned out to be a pretty cool dude. He had a truly insane number of powers, but he never joined in their battles. He mostly came by to hang out occasionally.

But his impact was always felt even when he wasn't around. Every time any of the titans spotted something flying, be it hero, villain, meta, alien, flock of birds, chunk of miscellaneous debris, one of them had to ask Robin if he planned on kissing this one, too.

Raven was the only one to pare him from this torture. That was until two months after the incident. They all lay in the debris field of one of their most difficult battles yet. It had been an incomprehensible mass of tendrils and colors their brains couldn’t understand from beyond reality that drifted across the city. They were all too exhausted to do much more than breathe and stare up at the reddening sky as the sun set.

The silence was eventually broken by Raven, "You should have used tongue this time."

Robin buried his face in hands letting out a sobbing groan. 'They have to get tired of this eventually.' He told himself. It was his only comfort and salvation.

They never did.

(the above is based on mine and a few other people's comments on the original post. I just fleshed it out a little :)

Starfire can learn any language via kissing someone. This is great news as the glowing specter teenager in the Titans Tower is speaking in a language no one can understands (ghost speak). Bad news: The team does their best to explain to the ghost this so they can communicate with him easier and Danny is VERY confused.

[harmoonix]

I wait for your love ♡

~ Valentines Edition 🤍 ~

Channeling Song:♡♡♡♡

Note for everyone reading this: I love that the Valentines happened to be on a Friday because it is the day of Venus. I hope that you celebrate the day of love even if you are single, because im sure you are loved beyond measure. 💗 by me, harmoonix ♡. Have a lovely reading.

- Venus aspecting the MC can indicate the love relationship being supported by many people. Having the relationship everyone likes and getting cool with it

- Earth Risings can possess a beautiful body. Their body might be beautiful naturally and that's what makes them special

- Libra Sun, Moon or Rising have a tendency to care too much for people. Sometimes going into extremes and getting hurt in the end

- Ariana Grande has Chiron in her 8th house of Leo, she craves attention from people who happens sometimes to be taken, she has to heal her trauma related to painful relationships

- Cancer Moons can crave lots of satisfaction in their relationships if they don't get it, these natives may end up feeling depressed

- Cancer Risings age beautifully as well. The moon ruling their 1st house helps by keeping their skin so good!! Angelina Jolie is also a good example

- Libra Mars or Mars at 7° 19° can feel trapped in relationships with people who don't share the same values as them

- 1° 13° 25° on Venus can indicate being new-ish with the relationships, you like to have long and passionate relationships and you may not date as many people as others

- 10° 22° degrees on ascendant can put a dark energy on you. Dark doesn't have to be bad. You just intimidate others

- Your Venus sign can also indicate how you feel about your ex after ending a relationship. Do you remain friends? or do you break the contact forever?

- Gemini Risings are always on point about making everyone feel comfortable around them. Lady Gaga for example.

- 8° 20° degrees on Moon are obsessed with physical touch. Some of them can be touched deprived which aligns with the sensitivity of their souls

- MC aspecting Mars can involve lots of drama and competition in their careers and throughout their public image.

- Mars or Saturn in the 10th house are the perfect example for 'Fighting to achieve what you want' because you know you deserve it

- Sun in the 3rd house placement to create lifetime relationships can be with everyone since Sun is social in this house. You get along so well with people

- Jupiter aspecting Moon (especially in good aspects) shares so much kindness with the people. They can see the goodness in people

- Jupiter at 5° 17° 29° degrees can present beautiful face features such as eyes, lips, and noseshape. You can complete everything with wearing jewels

- Jupiter at 2° 14° 26° degrees cna present beautiful hair and voice. They can be gifted with finding a good job/being wealthy

- Jupiter at 11° 23°/7° 19° degrees can unite people with their love and humanitarian soul. They are gifted with generosity at heart

- Moon x Pluto aspects represent the 'I can't get you out of my head' line. They're unforgettable at their core

- Leo Placements especially Risings/Sun i think they are favored by others without any effort. Is just their energy and people love them for who they are

- Venus or Moon in the 3rd house can be incredibly close with their siblings (if they have). Sharing a beautiful bond with your family members

- 12th house placements, especially Sun/Moon/Mercury , have a powerful subconscious, so powerful that it tends to get stuck sometimes and to forget about their feelings

- Moon in the 4th, 7th, 9th, 11th houses 》 'Home is not where you go. Home is the people you have around you'

- Neptune in the 12th, 1st, or 8th house are addictive people. You become addicted to them or they to you

- 6° 18°/12° 24° degrees on ascendant 》 being more open-minded, don't criticize yourself too much. Don't fall for others' delusions

- If you meet people who have 8th house placements, they can change your life, or your life will be changed after meeting them. Can it happen if Saturn/Pluto/Moon are involved

Happy Valentines Day 💗💗💗

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 138

jack had your valentine's day planned out long before the day arrived. a cute little picnic out in the february sun, with all of your favorite snacks and possibly even some painting. but when the day finally arrived, you both woke up to a storm.

typical jack to not check the weather beforehand.

however, the day was far from ruined. instead, you had your picnic in jack's living room, spending the day listening to the raindrops against the windows and just enjoying each others' presence. jack eventually brought out his old photo albums from when he and his brothers were still kids – ones you had never seen before, because otherwise you would've been obsessing over them every day up until now.

"this is from luke's tenth birthday," jack said, pointing at a picture of his brother with his face stuffed full of cake. in the next one, a dalmatian was licking whipped cream off his face. "our dog, amber. not nearly as calm as you could think from just looking at her."

"she looks sweet, though," you commented, eyes flickering over another picture of amber fast asleep in jack's embrace.

"her looks betray her." jack shuffled a little closer to you on the couch, side of his head leaning against yours. "i've been thinking about getting a new one, actually."

"a dog?"

"no, a new brother." he hissed when your elbow thrust into his side. "maybe not a dalmatian specifically, but… i don't know. i've just thought about it."

the next page showed a few pictures of jack on a stage, sitting in front of a grand piano in a pretty suit. he can't have been more than 13, and your eyebrows rose at the sight. "a piano man, huh?"

he rolled his eyes. "mom forced me to take classes. i hated it at first, but then…" he shrugged. "i kept it up for five years, and it grew on me. it was kind of nice to have something else to focus on other than hockey."

you never could've guessed that he would have done something like that. jack was so sporty, a very typical jock boy – he seemed more likely to be the one making fun of the music nerds than be one himself.

even when you'd spent so much time with him, you realized that you still had so much to learn about him; so many new sides to discover, so many layers to unravel.

frightening? no, exciting.

"i remember this one time when i was fourteen… quinn and luke were at some friend's house, so i was the only child at home. and our parents were fighting." your gaze fell to his hand which was resting all lonely on his thigh, so you took it in yours. "they were, like, yelling and everything. and i couldn't do anything about it. so i just sat down at the piano at home, and… played." you could feel the shakiness in the deep breath he took, but you didn't say anything, instead settling for a squeeze of his hand. "i think i did it to drown out the sound. it was the only thing i could control."

of course. his need for stability and to always be in control was deeply rooted in him. it made so much sense being put in perspective with your relationship; he craved the stability of knowing you're there with him and he hated the way you pulled away, leaving him unsure.

"what made you quit?" you hummed after a few long moments of silence.

"hockey was getting more serious… and the guys on the team didn't really think it was cool to spend my free time learning how to play classical pieces."

"i'm sure you still remember something," you said, head resting on his shoulder. "you should play for me sometime."

"i promise." he kissed the top of your head before flipping over to the last page of the book, revealing even more pictures of little jack – this time with a big, red bruise on the side of his cheek and boxing gloves covering his hands. "oh, right. i used to box."

"oh, you were a little fighter, huh?" you joked. "how come?"

"hockey wasn't enough. i wanted to be physical off the ice, too." his tone was lighthearted, yet there was a hint of sincerity in it. "something about it made me feel… invincible, you know? knowing that i could take a hit and still stand to deliver one of my own."

"uh uh. sounds totally sane."

he reached up to flick your forehead with his fingers, before giving your hand a gentle squeeze as an apology. "i guess, as a kid, i felt… powerless? a lot of the time. especially when my parents argued. and boxing helped with that," he said, and you could feel him nodding along to his words. "once, my dad came home from a night out with a black eye, and i've never felt so useless. i wanted to be able to fight back for him. or myself. or anyone else who needs it."

you want to protect them, you thought to yourself. his protective instinct was clear as day – even in the way he couldn't not be there for you, even when you said you didn't need a relationship or someone to take care of you.

he didn't fight just to fight. he fought to protect. it was the same thing with his fight at the first game of his you attended; he punched that rangers player to protect his teammate, not because he wanted to injure him.

"my coaches told me that i had to quit once i joined the ntdp, though. it made sense, since i never thought i'd have to use it in real life," jack said with a shrug. "so i didn't argue. but, in some twisted way, boxing made me less physical on the ice. like i had an outlet, somewhere to just let it all go, so i could just skate away from arguments on the ice."

"you're a good man, jack hughes," you said, leaning slightly to the side so that you could look up at him, glistening eyes studying his features. "you know that, right?"

he paused for a few moments, merely breathing as his gaze fell on you. "i'm good because of you. you make me want to be good."

[00valentina-writes00]

please please put the self harm fic back up, it was really good, and as someone who’s struggled before, it brought me some comfort. i really wish people just didn’t interact with things they don’t like, it’s appropriately tagged, and it’s not hurting anyone. i genuinely didn’t see anything wrong with it

You know what. Yeah I will. Here you go mamas <3

♡♥︎Grayson and Sevika catching you in a self harm relapse♥︎♡ (reuploaded)

Warnings: self-harm, mental health struggles, depression, angst, cutting, blood, sensitive topics

Disclaimer: This post isn’t meant to offend anyone (I already deleted it once), and I don’t recommend reading it if you’re not in a good place/can’t handle it. I wrote this because some people find comfort in reading things like this, and just because you don’t want to read it doesn’t mean you have to ruin it for everyone. Please just don’t interact/read the post if you don’t like it. For those who do read it and find comfort in it, I hope things get better for you. It sucks being in a place where you mind is your worst enemy, and my heart goes out to all of you.

♡Grayson♡

The weight of the silence in the house feels like a tangible thing—thick and suffocating. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, not really seeing anything. The quiet hum of the air purifier and the faint creaking of the old floorboards are the only sounds breaking the stillness.

It’s hard to pinpoint when the darkness started creeping back in, but it’s here, and it feels heavier than ever. There’s a weight on your chest, as if something is sitting there, pressing you down until you can’t breathe.

You feel it—how the world looks like it’s slipping through your fingers, how you can’t keep your head above water. The struggle is so exhausting. You can feel the tears building, the tightness in your throat as they fight to spill over, but you swallow them down. You can’t burden her with it.

Not now. Not when she’s already dealing with so much.

Grayson’s voice echoes in your mind, the soft yet firm way she always tells you, “If you need anything, you just ask. Don’t shut me out.” But asking for help feels impossible when it feels like you’re crumbling from the inside out. You know she means it when she says it, and you know that deep down, she’ll always be there for you. She has been.

But she’s been working late recently. You know the weight of her job—how demanding it is. How much responsibility she carries on her shoulders, always so composed, so calm. She’s always the one who carries others, the one who stays steady when everything else feels like it’s about to fall apart.

And yet, here you are, falling apart in the silence of your own mind.

You press your hand to your arm, feeling the familiar pull of that dark urge. It’s like a quiet whisper, promising you release, promising relief. You know it won’t fix anything—it never does. But for just a moment, the thought of it feels comforting. Control, a semblance of control, over a mind that is spiraling.

The sharp sting of a blade against skin is an old friend, one that promises to quiet the storm in your head, if only for a little while.

You grab the razor blade from the drawer by the bedside table, your hand shaking as you press the cool metal against your skin.

The moment it cuts into you, it’s like the world finally exhales. The pain is sharp, but it’s also grounding. It’s familiar. The blood wells up beneath the surface, the warmth of it seeping through your fingers as you press harder. The relief is fleeting but enough to keep you from drowning, at least for a little while.

You exhale shakily, closing your eyes as the tears finally come, hot and uncontrollable.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell yourself you’re better than this. It doesn’t matter how many promises you’ve made to Grayson that you’re okay. You’re not. You never are, and right now, the world is too loud, too chaotic, and all you want is for it to stop.

When you hear the door creak open, your heart skips a beat. Grayson’s home.

You panic for a moment, suddenly aware of the blood on your fingers, the rawness of your own skin. You want to hide it, to pull away from her, to bury it and pretend that everything is fine.

But it’s too late. She’s already stepped into the room.

Her gaze locks onto you immediately, and you see the shift in her expression—a flicker of concern, followed by something else, something darker. Her eyes move to your hand, still clutched around the razor, then slowly trail up to your face, where the tears are still streaming down.

“Baby…” Her voice is low, filled with a quiet kind of devastation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. The words are trapped somewhere deep inside, stuck behind the lump in your throat. Grayson is across the room in an instant, her long strides making quick work of the distance.

She kneels down in front of you, gently taking your hand with the blade in it, pulling it away from your skin, and tossing it onto the bedside table. She holds you, and it feels like the weight of the world has shifted, the tension in your chest finally starting to ease. Her arms wrap around you, pulling you to her, as she presses her face into your hair, murmuring soft words of comfort that you can barely hear over the rush of blood in your ears.

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into her, the warmth of her body and the scent of her cologne grounding you in a way nothing else does. Her arms tighten around you as she pulls you closer, as if trying to protect you from the storm inside your own mind.

“You don’t have to hide this from me,” Grayson says, her voice a mixture of pain and resolve. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

You can hear the underlying frustration in her tone, the helplessness that has started to creep in. She’s used to being in control, used to being the one who takes care of everyone else. But right now, she can’t fix this. She can’t make it go away. And that hurts her, you can see it in the way her brow furrows, in the way her hand gently caresses your arm as she inspects the damage.

Her fingertips brush against the cuts on your skin, and you flinch, not from pain, but from the guilt that rises in your chest. You can see it in her eyes—she’s not angry. She’s not disappointed. But she’s scared, and that’s almost worse than anything else.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I just… I didn’t want to bother you with this. You have enough on your plate.”

Grayson’s grip tightens around you, pulling you closer, her voice soft but unwavering. “You’re never a bother. You’re my wife, and I love you. You’re never a burden.”

You bury your face into her shoulder, the tears coming faster now, as everything you’ve been holding inside comes crashing to the surface. The guilt, the shame, the weight of it all—everything that you’ve kept hidden from her, from yourself, spills out in a flood of emotion that feels impossible to stop.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I can’t stop. I can’t stop it. It’s too much, Grayson.”

“I know,” she murmurs, her hands gently smoothing over your back, offering comfort in the only way she knows how. “I know, baby. I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Her words are like a balm to the rawness inside you, but the emptiness lingers. You feel lost, adrift in the dark waters of your own mind, and nothing seems to anchor you. Not even Grayson, though you know she’d do anything to keep you safe.

But you don’t know how to be safe anymore. You don’t know how to feel okay when everything inside you feels broken.

Grayson doesn’t say anything for a while, just holding you tightly, letting you cry, letting the storm rage inside you until there’s nothing left to say.

You eventually feel her fingers gently tracing over your arms, inspecting the cuts more carefully now. The gentle touch sends a shiver through your body, and you can’t help but wince, both from the pain of your wounds and the fear that she’ll look at you with disgust.

But when you look up, her face is soft, her eyes filled with nothing but love and concern. There’s no judgment in her gaze, only a quiet understanding that cuts through the fog in your mind.

“You’re not broken,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re not broken. You’re just hurting. And I’m here. We’re going to get through this together.”

Her words sink in, the weight of them settling on your heart like a gentle, steadying force.

You don’t have to fix yourself. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

Grayson will help you piece yourself back together, just as she always has.

♡Sevika♡

The quiet hum of the city’s underbelly surrounds you, but all you can hear is the pulse of your own heartbeat, the rhythmic rush of blood beneath your skin. Your breathing is shallow, erratic, barely keeping pace with the thoughts that whirl through your head, drowning everything in a familiar numbness. Every inch of you feels heavy—like the weight of the world is bearing down on your chest, leaving you gasping for air.

You’ve been here before. Staring down at your own hands, watching them tremble as they hold a blade. The same blade you’ve used countless times to try to carve out the pain, to silence the screams in your head. You think you’re past this—think that maybe you’ve come far enough, healed enough, but the reality is… you never really can outrun the shadows that lurk behind you.

Sevika’s voice still lingers in your mind, distant yet comforting. The low, gravelly tone that usually manages to settle your nerves is nowhere to be found. She’s been busy, off with Silco’s business. There’s always something. Something that pulls her away from you, and each time, the void in your chest grows a little larger. The silence between you two stretches thinner, and you start to wonder if you’re just another weight—something she has to carry, but doesn’t truly need. Maybe you were just a brief moment of comfort for her, something to fill the empty space in her own broken heart.

It’s pathetic, you think.

Your gaze flickers to the blade in your hand—sharp, gleaming, a perfect reflection of everything you’ve been trying to avoid. With a shaky breath, you press it to the skin of your arm, not sure what to expect, but desperate for release.

The first slice is almost too easy, like the blade already knows where to go, knows exactly how to break you. You hiss, biting back a gasp. The rush of blood that spills out is both soothing and terrifying, pooling around your wrist and dripping onto the floor. It feels like you’ve just cracked open a dam, and there’s no stopping the flood.

But you can’t stop. You need to feel it. The rush. The pain. The way it takes everything away, leaves you empty but somehow full at the same time. It’s familiar, comforting, like a twisted lover.

But this time, it’s different.

The bleeding doesn’t stop.

Your breath catches, the room beginning to spin as the crimson liquid flows freely, quicker than you can manage. Your vision blurs as the pulse of panic rushes through you. You try to hold pressure, but it doesn’t work. You try to stop it, but it’s like the blood has a mind of its own, pouring faster than you can keep up.

Why won’t it stop?

The panic sets in, clawing at your chest, a grip of cold fear tightening around your ribs. You try to move, to find something to hold against the wound, but your hands are trembling too violently, your fingers slick with blood. The room feels smaller, darker, and all at once, you feel the walls closing in. Every breath is a struggle, and every thought feels like a weight you can’t bear.

And then—footsteps.

Sevika.

Her voice, low and dangerous, cuts through the haze of panic. “What the hell is going on here?”

You don’t have time to answer before she’s in front of you, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the sight of you, the blood dripping from your arm, the panic in your eyes. You want to say something, to apologize, but the words are tangled in your throat, a mass of guilt and shame. Her presence, usually so reassuring, now feels like an inescapable force, suffocating you with its intensity.

She doesn’t need to speak, her gaze enough to make you shrink back. But she doesn’t leave. She’s here. And that alone is enough to send a wave of emotion crashing over you—relief mixed with guilt, pain, and that overwhelming, gnawing feeling of needing something you can’t quite define.

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but it’s like your body betrays you, unable to form a coherent thought.

Sevika’s gaze shifts to the blade in your hand, and for a moment, there’s nothing but silence between you two. Her jaw tightens, and her lips press into a thin line. But then her hands move, strong and steady, like the storm in her eyes isn’t enough to tear her apart. She takes your wrist with a force that makes you flinch, her fingers like iron bands around your arm, yet there’s no malice in her touch. Only a quiet fury—one that’s familiar to her, but so unlike you.

She doesn’t shout. She doesn’t ask you why. Instead, she moves quickly, her voice calm but filled with that hard edge of discipline. “Give me the fucking blade.”

You hesitate, feeling the cold, sharp steel pressing against your skin. For a moment, you wonder if this is it—if she’s finally tired of you. If this is where the weight of your brokenness makes her snap.

But instead of anger, you see something different in her eyes. Something sharp and raw. Something that looks like pain.

You don’t argue as she pries the blade from your trembling fingers. Her gaze never leaves you as she takes it, her lips pressed into a hard line. You can’t tell if she’s angry or worried, but you feel like you’re drowning in her gaze. In the silence between you two, the blood that still flows from your arm, the tightness in your chest, the burning shame—you feel it all. The weight of your struggle is too much for one person to bear, even if that person is Sevika.

She’s too quiet, too still, for too long. And you can’t take it.

“I—I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice cracked and fragile. “I didn’t mean to… to make you worry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Sevika doesn’t respond right away, her face unreadable as she carefully presses a cloth against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. The way her fingers move so methodically, the precision of her touch—it makes you feel like you’re falling apart even more.

“You didn’t want to make me worry?” she says, her voice quieter than usual, a soft growl of frustration in her words. “Then why the hell are you doing this to yourself?”

You shake your head, biting back the tears that threaten to spill over. You don’t have an answer. You never really did. It’s always been a struggle, hasn’t it? One that you fight alone, because nobody could possibly understand. Not her. Not anyone.

But Sevika doesn’t need answers. She doesn’t need you to explain yourself, not right now. All she needs is to fix this. To stop you from bleeding out.

When she’s sure the bleeding has slowed, Sevika pulls you close, her strong arms wrapping around you. It’s the first time in what feels like forever that she’s not pushing you away. She holds you tightly, her breath steady against your ear, and for a moment, you forget about the cuts on your skin, the mess you’ve made of yourself, the guilt that weighs you down.

She doesn’t say anything for a long time. Her grip tightens around you, the warmth of her body seeping into yours. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she speaks, her voice low and rough.

“Don’t do this again.”

You nod, feeling a sob rise in your chest. You want to tell her you’ll be okay, that you won’t fall back into the darkness. But you don’t know if you can promise that. And for the first time in a long while, you let the tears fall, not because you’re weak, but because you don’t have to hide from her anymore.

Sevika’s not going anywhere. She never has been, not really. Even if she can’t fix everything, even if she doesn’t have all the answers—she’s here.

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: Jeon Jae Joon is in love with you🖤

Featuring: Jeon Jae Joon x Reader(f)

Warnings: Bullying, yandere guy

A/N: I'm sorry that I'm not publishing a work on SG. I just wanted to diversify my blog somehow. If you like this job, I will be happy!

🖤🖤🖤

School years

• It all started after Dong Eun dropped out of school. Yeon Jin immediately found a new victim. And it was you. She also mocked you with her company. Jae Joon was always on the sidelines and laughed at the way his girlfriend humiliated you. But everything will change in the future.

• Once you saw how the guy beat his classmate again because he insulted his eyes and laughed at color blindness. You even felt sorry for Joon, despite the fact that he was your bully. You decided to come up and support him. You waited until he was left alone and quietly approached.

- Jae Joon..

- Fuck! What do you need, bitch?

• He screamed and very loudly, you were scared, but you continued anyway.

- I wanted to say..don't pay attention to what people say. I mean..that there is nothing wrong that you are different from others..you have beautiful eyes and your color blindness is just your feature, you don't need to listen to insults about it, they don't understand anything and it's low to condemn a person for the fact that he didn't even choose at birth.

• After your words, you quickly ran away, leaving the guy alone. He just looked after you, processing the words you told him.

• He realized that you were the only person who told him such a thing. With this act, you changed his attitude towards you. But don't think it means that you're saved, it means you have your guardian demon. After all, he was very interested in you and he looked at you differently.

• The next day, he told Yeon Jin and the others to leave you alone and threatened that if they did something to you, he would kill them.

• He didn't beat or touch you, he didn't use physical violence against you, only moral violence. He could humiliate you with his words, and then laugh at your reaction.

• He forbids everyone to touch you, and if someone offends you, Joon will beat that man until he barely breathes, lying in a pool of his blood.

• You are only his. No one dares to look at you anymore.

• His friends didn't understand his behavior, especially Jin, as he began to cool off to her.

• He had one answer to all the questions: "FUCK YOU!"

• He watched your every step. He watched from afar as you walked home from school or from some store, he was always next to you, but you didn't suspect it.

• He scared all your gentlemen to such an extent that many were afraid to just approach you.

• He doesn't want you to understand that it's his business, so he tries by all means to hide his guilt.

Adult life

• He didn't leave you alone, he also kept you close to him.

• He arranged you in his store and ordered you to fulfill his requests, but you were not like Son Myeong Oh, he treated you more carefully and did not ask you to do something difficult.

• He made that you had nowhere to live, and then offered you to stay with him. He wants you to always be there for him.

- Why do you want me to move in with you? I'm just your classmate, we're not even friends.

- You shouldn't care about it. If you don't want to live in a dump, then agree to my offer.

• He knew you would agree. He knows how to manipulate you.

• When everyone found out that you lived with him, they were in complete shock, especially Yeon Jin

- Why are you to take care of her?! Did you fall in love with her??? Did you trade this me for this worthless bitch?!?!

- Don't you dare call her that. It's none of your business what I feel for her, leave us alone.

• He also secretly spoils your dates with other men. He can't let you leave him.

• He continues to follow you and will always do so. After all, you are only him.

• Joon realized a long time ago that he was in love with you, but he believes that this is how you need to show your love.

• He will probably never admit your feelings to you, because Joon knows that you will refuse, so he will enjoy you at a distance.

��🖤🖤

[crushedsweets]

How would the proxies react if they saw someone (that they don’t know) being affected by the slender sickness? Like an outsider having a hard time because of the sickness

OK i have two versions of slendersickness in my au! one from slenderman, and one from the operator!

so, i usually just call it O/S syndrome. I'll start with how the proxies would react, and then i'll explain the difference between the infections! this is written VERY casually cuz im lazy

PROXIES REACTING TO SLENDER SICKNESS

if its the first infection, the proxies are more curious on how you got it. were you in the forest? did you touch some of the pages? did one of them leave a pill behind?

tim, brian, and toby would try to like....either stalk you to figure out what you did to get infected, or they'd try to subtly ask questions. say you're a waiter, they'll come to your restaurant and point out your coughing LOL.

...kate will just stalk you and tell the others.

if its because you're snooping, well. depends on what slenderman wants. if the proxies can scare you away from the forest, then cool. if you try to bring friends back? ur all dead soz that was dumb

if it's cuz of something not your fault, like they're regulars at your job and forget to wash their soot-covered hands? then they'll just move on, stop seeing you - or clean themselves better before . . LOL

PROXIES REACTING TO OPERATOR SICKNESS

they either kidnap you and force you to recover or kill you. thats literally it. they usually try to work with EJ to keep you sedated so they can TRY to return you home without getting caught but . . . thats a longshot .

it's just that killing too many people causes a lot of police activity so they avoid it when they can, even if some are. . . more violent than others

OK SO THE TWO FORMS OF O/S SYNDROME.

slender sickness, a more traditional virus/illness. aka inhaling fumes of slenderman's tar/coal will give you symptoms. this is pretty avoidable by just...not going into the forest. >inhaling enough of these fumes leaves you immune to the operator! >these symptoms are the coughing, headaches, nausea, hallucinations, the usual >if slendy DECIDES he wants you to be a proxy(and he is VERY picky), then symptoms evolve into having a sort of... proxy..mode? aka hoody, masky, the chaser. >otherwise, you can eventually make a full(?) recover

operator sickness, from the operator infecting you directly. moreso in a paranormal, demonic way rather than a virus. he targets vulnerable/violent people, no way to avoid it >you can get rid of the operator by taking pills filled with crushed-up coal mined off of slendy in the mines. >symptoms are him literally controlling your body for a period of time. usually results in causing as much violence as possible or tearing down pages >slendy usually wants operator-infected people killed, but if the proxies can get them to take enough pills, he dgaf >luckily it takes a LOT of energy for the operator to infect someone, since its like giving them a piece of himself. so he cant do it a lot

[softxsuki]

Hello! If requests are still open I would like to submit one for the valentines day event? I would like a confession letter from baji (he's liked me for a LONG while but bc I have low self esteem/been in a bunch of failed friendships and relationship (some of wbuch he had a part if bc he didnt wanna see me with another man), I only saw him as a friend and didn't really allow myself to have feeling for him (like im a really optimistic/extroverted person but I'm also rlly scared of getting close to people as my most recent friendship breakup resorted in me getting fucking insomnia that took weeks to recover from). Tone: hurt/angst to comfort/fluff where after I try to go out on a date (and fail), he finds me crying onnthr curb, ion wanna see his fsce (bc we got into an argument) and then he tries tos ee what's wrong but I'm hiding my feelings, we get into an argument and I run off (it's super dramatic too). Other info: we've been tight since middle school (i saw him as a big bro/cool guy figure. Looked up to him) ans latches onto him even as I gained and lost friends gjnffjdnmd

Sorry if its too confusing or complex dndndn

Have a lovely day!

Confession Letter from Baji

This event is now CLOSED, but you can view the masterlist for the other letters here.

| Pairing: Baji x Gn!Reader| Genre: Comfort, Fluff | Post-Type: Letter | Word Count: 500 |

Warnings: mild language, jealousy, crying

Note: You painted a whole scene for me, so thank you. Hope you like !

You were at home sulking over the events of the day; a failed date once again due to your inability to fully trust a guy again, to Baji finding you crying on the curb, the argument that ensued after, and you running away from your own feelings, taking yourself back home.

You felt so pathetic, why couldn’t things work out for you? Why did you have to have these feelings for your friend despite how much you tried to push them away? There was no denying them anymore.

A knock at your door, forces you off your feet, opening the door to find no one there, but instead, a letter on the ground with your name on it.

Strange…

You wipe away your tears and bring the letter in with you, opening it;

Y/N,

Before you crumple this up and throw it away, please wait…I’m sorry okay? I was just…upset. I realize I’ve been holding my feelings back for so long that my instinct is to scold you for going out on dates…it’s probably jealousy honestly.

We’ve been close since middle school and I’ve seen all the crap you’ve been through with fake friends and failed relationships…which I’ve probably scared a few potential love interests of yours away myself…but I can’t help it. I like you. What man stands around and lets other guys talk to the person they like? Despite how lame I’ve been to keep it to myself instead of just telling you…

But after tonight, I can’t hold it back anymore. I like you, Y/N. I have for a while and I hate to see you hurting…I know I could treat you well. Our friendship is proof of that, but I want to be more than just your friend. I want to hold you when you’re hurting and kiss your tears away. I want to reassure you and build you up after all the times you’ve been knocked down by losers who don’t know how to treat their lovers…

I’m tired of running from my feelings, I just hope I haven’t pushed you away by telling you this. 

Come find me, please.

Love, 

Keisuke.

You can’t help but smile at the letter, the guy could hardly spell (let’s pretend like there were many spelling and grammar mistakes in the letter…the editor in me couldn’t actually do it BFHKEAF), let alone put words together on paper, but he tried for you, and it was beautiful. 

Maybe these feelings you had for him weren’t so bad after all. Maybe this could be your first good experience with a relationship. Baji always treated you well, despite the times he’d get moody after you’d mention dates you had gone on, but now you knew why–he liked you back.

You laugh to yourself, wiping the remainder of your dried tears. Time to find happiness with your best friend. The thought filled you with hope, making you excited for the idea of dating him. 

Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.

Posted: 2/14/2025

[ezrasxfics]

looking at me

valentine’s day fic

-

abstragedy

-

3rd person

the circus grounds seemed to stretch on out for miles, though this was just an illusion, as in reality, it was a small environment - essentially a prison. one with too many overwhelming, saturated colours, akin to that of a children’s show. within this circus, there was a cast of characters, all equally exhausted with the energy and antics of their ringmaster: caine. though one individual was more vocal about this than the rest, zooble. it was almost like they found joy in being as moody as possible. well, except when it came to gangle, their best (and only) friend. she was a lot more timid than them, often letting jax walk all over her. zooble wouldn’t ever hesitate in helping her out, though. right now, the two were in zooble’s room, an array of colourful limbs that the two were sorting through was scattered on the floor. each one was more strange than the last, if that were even possible.

“how about this one, zooble?” gangle asks, holding up a striped arm, orange and black. she was helping them pick parts to spend the day wearing, as it was proving a very difficult task for them. they took the part, trying it on and contemplating for a few seconds before replying:

“yeah. this feels alright. kinda matches.” they say, bottom eyelids moving up to form a ‘smile’. “thanks for that. i don’t think i’ve ever seen this part before - nice to actually try something new for once, i guess.”

gangle returns the smile with her own, a genuine, soft one. every time zooble looked at her in that way, she got a fluttery feeling in her stomach, ‘cheeks’ dusted with pink. she broke eye contact, looking down at the floor to avoid their gaze. she had loved them for a long time, basically ever since she met them. they just.. made her feel comfortable in a way nobody else could. they were honest, they were genuine, they were kind - three of the things she valued most in a person. and on top of all that, they were really cool. they stood up for her, they were so good at art, they didn’t care what anyone thinks.

eventually, she speaks up.

“..zooble..?”

“mmhmm?” they seemed quite distracted with something, but the sound of her voice immediately took their whole attention, ready to hear what she wanted to say. their eyes were no longer half-lidded, but rather wide and soft, welcoming, friendly.

“i.. uhm.. i think- i think i’m in love with you..? i know this is sudden, but i’ve felt like this for a long time and i just have to tell you because it feels wrong to lie to you and-“

“gangle-“

“-and i just think you’re amazing— you’re perfect, you’re so kind, you look amazing, you’re everything i’ve ever wanted- and if you don’t want to be my friend anymore because of this, i’d completely understand—“

“gangle—“

“—because i’d feel the same..! i wouldn’t want a best friend who loves me like that—“

suddenly, a hand covered her mouth, gentle and caring.

“gangle— if you’d give me chance to speak- look, i love you too. so stop doubting yourself. just.. this is a lot.. i never thought— nevermind. i love you, okay..? i don’t think i look ama- i love you. i’m just new to this, okay? i’ve never been someone’s.. partner. i’m inexperienced. do you really want this?”

gangle didn’t hesitate for even a moment, nodding her head rapidly. she was so entirely overjoyed. the thought of zooble loving her back almost too good to be true. there was no way, she just had to be dreaming. even so, she was going to let her enjoy every second, even if she was convinced it was just a figment of her imagination.

she found herself climbing into their arms, wrapping her ribbons around their body, letting her eyes flutter closed in pure bliss as they ran their thumb in circles on her ‘hand’. there was no need for words in this moment, the silence speaking on its own - saying that the two were perfectly comfortable with each other, and they were all they needed.

after a while of the silent bliss, gangle spoke up again.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

-

hope you enjoyed!!! sorry this isn’t a request - i was feeling self indulgent for valentine’s day!! sigh i’m lonely/j

reblogs appreciated!!

[msookyspooky]

♡ Ghostface Yandere HC ♡

Pt 1

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎: 𝙱𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚂𝚝𝚞, 𝙼𝚒c𝚔𝚎𝚢, 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗, Jill, Ethan

TW: Very Dark Themes, Blood, Murder, Noncon/Dubcon, Abuse, 18+ Mature Themes: DLDR

Divider by @strangergraphics

🩸 Happy Valentines Day 🫀

𝔹𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕃𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤:

♡ Is a secret Yandere that isn't very good at hiding it but tries. He is obsessed yet doesn't show it till he can't handle how much he needs you

♡ Has so many lyrics and written love notes about you stored away

♡ Compares your relationship to Movie Couples and it gets progressively worse. "We're kinda like Chucky and Tiffany." you can take as joke. But soon "I think Jack Torrance had the right idea." or "I wouldn't be mad if you were like Anne Wilkes." starts to become...Unnerving.

♡ Thinks you're so deep and different than the people of Woodsboro. Holds you to an impossible standard and gets enraged / hurt when you accidentally shatter his delusion

♡ Tries to spare you from his Woodsboro Massacre but traumatized you regardless. Calling you and chasing you down in costume near or on that night almost like a sexual tease to himself

♡ He never Sexual Assaults you despite the filthy, proactive, awful fantasies he tells you over the phone through the voice modulator. He has a massive Madonna Whore complex and refuses to look at you as the latter.

♡ He trusts movie logic that pure virgins live; and you're not like those other weak sluts, are you? No, you are the most pure thing to him. His Angel that he can corrupt on his terms.

♡ His Angel to pluck your wings and glue them back on while kissing your tears away. He loves you more than Horror Movies or his Mother or Revenge and he is NEVER letting you go.

♡ In his eyes, it's only you and him in this town. You don't need family, friends, not even pets if they occupy more of your time than him. You don't need anyone else.

𝕊𝕥𝕦 𝕄𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣:

♡ Flirts shamelessly in front of others. Even if you have a partner, he flirts and side eyes them the whole time. In fact, they're gonna come up dead soon anyways

♡ A total yandere through and through that doesn't even hide it; it just gets played off as flirting or jokes. He plays the goofy, laid-back, cool guy but he cannot hide his emotions; especially his obsession for you

♡ He could sniff your hair or steal your jacket and inhale it in private as if it's a lifeline and because he's such a funny cool guy; it gets played off for laughs. He can say, 'I'm totally gonna lock you in my basement.' with a goofy grin and everyone, even you, thinks it's a joke...He's dead serious behind that smile.

♡ Manipulates you with gifts to make you feel bad. Anything you want, he gets. Money's no option for him, babe.

♡ Weeks later those phone calls start

♡ When he comes on too strong and you turned him down; the mask falls. He gets angry and insults you even making threats like 'you'll regret it'

♡ He relishes your fear. It turns him on and he doesn't hide that fact. But his harmless scare pranks are lining up suspiciously with the killers whereabouts...

♡ Once he chases you he teases you seductively with that knife. Loves the way your breath catches and you tremble. Ah, you're just so cute to him like this! All doe eyed and scared.

♡ He gives you an ultimatum; strip for him and do what he says or die. He may have his own complexes but he didn't believe in the horror movie rules like Billy; he just needed an excuse to kill for fun. And you? You looked VERY fun...A different kind of fun than just killing.

♡ He makes the experience orgasmic as it is primal like the real him comes out once the knife is in hand. Sure, maybe you'll cry from being violated, having his gloved fingrrs over every inch of your trembling form. You cry yet he gives you so much pleasure as he devotes his every touch to you. Best part? With that mask you don't even know it's him.

♡ When you're traumatized he comes by later to 'Borrow something' and finds you crying and in turmoil over your body enjoying what your mind didn't

♡ He comforts you and shhes you so tenderly as you cling to him. Promises Ghostface won't come back for you so long as he's around but you probably should let him stay the night just to keep you safe

𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕪 𝔸𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚:

♡ He wants no one but you. He'd only kill you if you forced him to and he'd make it the most pleasurable erotic death one could imagine and desecrate your corpse like a work of art; like a shrine.

♡ He could be your dog at your feet or your worst nightmare; your choice.

♡ He knows how to play up the goofy vibe to get what he wants but the second you irk him; his eyes darken and a slight sneer appears...He has to hide it. Can't have you knowing he's a serial killer. Not yet at least.

♡ Another yandere that doesn't hide well

♡ Met you in Film Theory and thinks you playfully debating him was foreplay. You want him so bad you're just being shy; he just knows it

♡ Like Stu but less flashy. Gets you coffee, donuts or roses regularly

♡ He's so good at disarming you. He knows how to be a good guy and friend, knows how to make the flirting disguised as playful banter, and yet...He can't quite hide the way he looks at you like you're a piece of meat he wants to devour.

♡ Records everything about you You're his muse.

♡ Takes you to all the parties and keeps you on his arm all night and the second he has a meltdown over you talking to a 'friend' in his eyes you see a side you don't like and try to get away

♡ It's not long before a Ghostface shows up and drags you to the nearby wooded area near campus

♡ He's too excited to not reveal himself and threatens you; be mine or every friend you have dies

ℝ𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝔹𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕘𝕖𝕣:

♡ Takes Advantage of you in a way that feels like requited love to him. You were shuddering and sniffling back tears from being overwhelmed that's all. Especially while gagging on him slowly while he recorded you thinking you were the most magnificent being in the World.

♡ Holds you while your spacing out at this predicament. Petting your hair with a smile as if you just made love because in his mind, you did. You'll learn to love him as he tells you in detail how he's killed people and how many to let it sink in how you better be good to him

♡ Might even let you watch his 'video projects' including the one you just filmed on your knees crying and gagging on it as he whispers sweet nothings to you. He adores you.

♡ A yandere that hides it well. Charming Director that just thought you'd be a perfect Scream King/Queen for his latest flick and NO ONE is the wiser

♡ Pays extra attention to you. Pays for you to have the best dressing room, fresh fruit and flowers daily best hair and makeup and wardrobe. He treated you like you were an A-Lister.

♡ Little did you know...Roman already knows everything about you and scouted you out on purpose for no other reason but thinking he was attracted to you and deserved you. No one deserves you as much as him

♡ He becomes extremely demanding of your time even when everyone else is going home and definitely puts the moves on you in a subtle way while being able to apologize and reel it in just enough for you to feel silly for thinking he was anything but professional

♡ He wanted a nude/semi nude scene with you in it you weren't sure about but after a lot of convincing; you concede

♡ Has nothing but possessive, dark lust in his eyes while watching you perform; fires, yells at, kills anyone for looking at you or touching you too long even if it's in their job description

♡ You try to talk to him after he went on a firing / yelling rampage and he gave a chuckle of barely suppressed rage that, 'You're my muse; NO ONE elses.'

♡ You started realizing this was beyond unprofessional when it was too late and you were deep in this screening and contracts

♡ If you try to quit? You see a heartbroken Roman that is nothing more than the tip of the iceberg

♡ You soon get visited by Ghostface that roughens you up with bruises, cuts, manhandling, groping. You had a bloody lip he'll kiss better later and was getting choked and fondled at the same time and unable to get away. C'mon even if you were fighting it was all acting baby! He just knew you secretly liked it in his mind. Just like all those secret videos of you he recorded of your private life. He just knew you had to have seen the camera and played coy with him in his deranged mind.

♡ He reveals himself after having some 'fun' and shows you a contract you signed that if you wanted to work in Hollywood again and didn't want to die you'd be in many of his films working close with eachother...He owns you.

𝕁𝕚𝕝𝕝 ℝ𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕤:

♡ She's a Yandere that teeters between being inconspicuous and obvious all depending on how much or how little she gets her way with you as her possession

♡ You had been friends with her for a while and you always thought she was extremely sweet and understanding but very, very jealous. You couldn't be friends with others without her making an issue of it

♡ Has whole collages, collections, heartshaped photos of you two as 'best friends'

♡ She always strings you along and the second you've had enough of her drama she'll cry softly or beg and lure you back in. It's almost a game she finds endearing in her fucked up mind.

♡ She never cared about Trevor, only you. You would never betray her like Trevor, would you? Of course not. She KNOWS you. She knows you better than you know yourself. You're just such a cute naive idiot she has to look out for in the world.

♡ She leaves you out of the plan to get fame by killing. She doesn't even want you in the limelight together because it takes attention away from her AND...Why should anyone get to look at what's hers?

♡ You see the cracks in her facade when you do something that 'wasn't part of her plans' and she has a complete meltdown in a way that leaves you reeling. Not even recognizing her as she rages, throws things, breaks shit and demands you stop doing whatever it is your doing

♡ If you call off your 'friendship'? She'll kill you first. You belong to her. You're property at this point and If she can't have you? No one can.

♡ Dresses as Ghostface, something she usually lets her lacky do but considers it good roleplaying foreplay as she hunts you down, beats the shit out of you from hurling you into things to almost killing you multiple times. After all, you're her's to do whatever to.

♡ Takes off the mask glaring down at you while your on the ground. You made her do this. It didn't have to be this but you forced her!

♡ Straddles you and strips your shirt off with her knife while kissing and biting all over you talking about having her way with you one last time before she hacks you up because a dead you that belongs to her is better than you moving on without her

♡ If you convince her to let you live? You're hers entirely. From what you wear to who you hang out with...Oh, it's not so bad. Just think; once she gets away with it you and her can never do this Ghostface crap again and live happily ever after with her and only her

𝔼𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝔹𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕪:

♡ Yandere disguised as a Golden Retriever that people would argue with you he's just 'clingy' or 'sensitive'. It's very effective.

♡ Is devoted to you and no one but you. Makes you gifts, buys you things that remind him of you, offers you anything of his, frets over you constantly, tries to please you in anyway he can

♡ His yandere side doesn't come out till he sees you talking to another guy like Chad too long...And you look over to see such a dark menacing stare. It didn't look like the Ethan you knew

♡ Any arguments have him spiraling and screaming at you and breaking something that makes you jerk back in shock before he'll crumble in front of you to your feet crying and apologizing. Begging you to overlook his red flags. It was a mistake! That's all.

♡ He keeps you attached to him for a lot longer than most because he's so incredibly good at guilt tripping

♡ He needs you. He cannot live without you. His whole life is consumed in revenge and malice and you're the light in the tunnel for him. A day without you is like a day without sunshine

♡ Calls or text you constantly and if you don’t answer? His text don’t get meaner, oh no, he just becomes Ghostface and stalks you

♡ God help you if he sees you even with a friend or family member (hopefully a stranger or acquaintance) ignoring his text to talk to them

♡ He's emotionally driven and cannot help when he attacks. Kills them and stalks towards you covered in blood. Once the mask is off you see just how deranged he really is. Going from threatening and lecturing you to smiling and saying how you both can be together and just DON'T shut him out ever again and everything will be okay

♡ He becomes extremely tied to you. You cannot go anywhere or do anything without him involved. He loves you, don't you see it? Now, say it back or else; maybe you have too many other people near you taking up the love you should be giving to him? He can fix that.

[maxdibert]

I wished lily wasn't the reason for Severus' loyalty. The revelation of his love for her (platonically or romantically) was truly important. You have the incident that kickstarted the prophecy. Severus' switch to the order. Voldemort giving Lily a chance to choose. Severus playing an important role in the second wizarding war. All because of a friendship of two people from spinner's end.

JKR should have developed it more. I understand that she went for the twist, but when the thrill of the discovery is gone there are so many questions that are unanswered.

first, I do not like Lily as a friend. She forgives the marauders for the years of bullying, see her 'best friend' being hanged upside down and threatened to have his genitals exposed. Who the fuck does that ? Also when Harry asked if his mother knew that James still bullying Severus in the seventh year, remus answered with "she did not know too much." so she knew something...

I do not like Lily as a sister, why did she not let James know that vernon probably doesn't know anything about the wizarding world before they went on dinner. I mean wth is Petunia supposed to say to Vernon ? "Oh yeah my sister is a witch and she went to this magical school". Not the best way to make a men fall in love with you. Is Petunia even allowed to tell Vernon all of this under the secrecy law? (I'm aware that restaurant scene is not canon, but that's what I thought when I read it on the website).

I don't like the way she uses her other friends opinion of Severus and their friendship, who clearly don't like Severus, as an argument to why Severus should stop hanging out with his Slytherin friends. Why are your friends even discussing Severus?

Also, I don't like the way she idolize Albus Dumbledore. Severus' got bullied for years, and Dumbledore did nothing. Severus was nearly killed by a werewolf and Dumbledore made Severus swear to never talk about it. What did he do, he made James head boy. Yeah if that happened to me and this man was the leader of the order, I might have asked for the death eater sign up too. Ridiculous.

By making his love for her so pure and selfless, it makes me wonder why he loves her so much. We know nothing, and the things we know just make me go "bruh really.... her ? .... she would not spare a thought for you if your funeral was announced in the papers".

Listen I was never part of the cool kids, so perhaps I don't understand her. But then again, for a Gryffindor, she really is a social coward.

It makes everything so bloody tragic. I sometimes wonder if I'd wished Severus stayed a death eater in the story but then one with guilt because he started caring about the professors and children through the years of working there.

It was honestly funny to read all of this because it feels like listening to myself when I was 16 or 17. I mean, even before I was a fan of Severus—because that came with time—I had a pretty neutral opinion of the character. I didn’t dislike him because I understood his motivations, but I wasn’t particularly a fan either. And if I wasn’t a fan, it was precisely because of everything you’re talking about.

A lot of people say Severus was an obsessive incel who spent 24/7 thinking about Lily, but I never saw it that way—I just thought he was an idiot. I thought, Wow, what an absolute moron. Like, did he really sacrifice his entire life for a woman who was actually kind of a piece of shit? Did he really give up everything to protect the son of his bully and the woman who married said bully? Could you be a bigger loser? No, seriously, could you be more pathetic? Because that woman not only let him be bullied for years, she almost smiled at his bully while he was publicly stripping him. She practically blamed him for her lack of popularity because she was seen with him, and somehow, he was supposed to be grateful. She gaslit him when he tried to tell her about what his abusers were doing to him. She literally told him he should be grateful to one of his abusers. Like, this woman was a piece of shit who was just looking to climb the social ladder. She loved being Gryffindor’s golden girl, just like she was the golden girl back home, and she hated that she had a weird, ugly, nerdy friend with questionable associations who tainted her image. On top of that, she loved having Gryffindor’s rich, pureblood king fawning over her because it was yet another symbol of status—but, of course, she had to play hard to get because good girls always resist bad boys.

That’s how I saw Lily Evans (and honestly, how I still see her), and it seemed absurd to me that Severus would have given so much for her when, honestly, I would have told her to fuck off. Like, if I were Severus, I would’ve dropped her the first time she gaslit me about my abusers. But if for some reason I had still stuck around after that, the moment I saw her almost smiling at my main abuser while he was stripping me in public, I would’ve beaten her so hard she’d have lost all her teeth.

That was my mindset when I was younger, before I learned a lot of things. Back then, I didn’t know what toxic friendships were or how easy it was to fall into them. I had no idea what codependency was, nor did I understand what an attachment figure was. At the time, I grasped some of these concepts vaguely, but over the years, I not only understood them more deeply but also experienced them—both personally and through people around me.

As I got older, I realized that the fact that Severus came from a home where he felt terribly unsafe, and that Lily represented his first safe place as a child, played a huge role in his cognitive development and psyche. In some way, he was always going to be grateful to her for probably being the only good thing in his childhood. And those childhood attachments are some of the strongest and hardest to break because they’re so deeply ingrained in a person. On top of that, Lily was his friend for years, during key developmental stages, and he probably didn’t see all of her flaws—he had her idealized. He grew up in a house where violence was the norm, and his classmates at Hogwarts also treated violence as normal. Lily was different, so he simply wasn’t capable of recognizing problematic behaviors that anyone with a healthy upbringing and healthy role models would have seen immediately. Because he didn’t have those things.

We’re not talking about a character who had examples of healthy behavior, affection, or attachments—we’re talking about someone who had the opposite. So, of course, he wasn’t capable of seeing anything bad in Lily. To him, she was the good in his environment. She was his moral compass, a kind of lighthouse to guide him when he wanted to know if he was heading in the right direction. It’s even possible that he never blamed her for marrying James, and instead, just thought it was normal that she gave in—because she was so good that she could see the good in even horrible people like James. Or maybe he believed James had somehow deceived her.

Severus’s attachment to Lily is kind of like a child who idolizes their mother and is completely unable to see her flaws—even when she acts like a complete asshole—because she’s their mother. And if she does something bad, well, it’s probably the fault of the people around her, not her. That’s exactly how Severus saw Lily.

When I understood all of this, I felt like I finally understood the character and his motivations better. I think it’s important to look at it not from our perspective as outsiders forming opinions, but from his perspective as someone inside the situation—someone who was emotionally dependent on her and either didn’t see the truth or didn’t want to see it.

Over the years, I’ve toned down my discourse about Lily, but my opinion of her hasn’t changed all that much from when I was a teenager. The only difference is that now I rationalize it better. But I still think she was a self-centered social climber. The only thing that’s changed is that before, I just thought she was a shallow, frivolous person—now I give her a little more credit and think her behavior was based on an inferiority complex stemming from her working-class background and her Muggle heritage.

But that doesn’t change the core of the issue. And honestly? I think she and James Potter were a perfect match—two absolute assholes who deserved each other. In fact, I’ve never been bothered by Jily because I’ve always thought they belonged together. Equally insufferable.

[richarlotte]

Something you did to succeed?

When I first got to LA and I didn’t really know anyone on campus yet, my Big made me go to a party with her. It was filled with Thornton and SDA boys, and while I’ve never really been into musicians or actors, sometimes you have to work with what you’re given and have a good time. Creating connections with people my age was heavy on my mind when I first got to campus, and I wanted more social opportunities. 

I ended up on a couch, in a completely one-sided conversation with a real Jack Antonoff-type character, and I couldn’t relate to a single thing he was saying. He’d bring up producing or curating playlists, talk (brag) about his deal, or drop names every other second while I sort of just sat next to him and nodded along halfheartedly while trying not to spill my drink.

I know me, and I know what I can relate to. I felt his energy, tuned in to what he was talking about, and realized that we’d both spent our lives working hard to feel good enough, sacrificing, and being pushed to the limit, and he had a vicious ambition and desire to succeed. As he was talking about producing, I finally interrupted him and said, “Have you seen Whiplash? I feel like you’d love it. It’s one of my top ten favorite movies,” and his eyes immediately sparked up. 

All it took was knowing a few cultural references, being able to read the room, listening, and waiting before I spoke to unlock an entirely new side of the guy I was talking to. As soon as I asked him about Whiplash, he said, “What was your name again? Charlotte?” and I was in good. I wasn’t into him, but I wanted to get to know him and his people, so I stayed sat and matched his energy since I knew he was important to know. 

I left the party early, didn’t give him my number, and told him I’d accept his follow request once I got home, and went to bed instead of answering his DM. He asked people about me for weeks after, reached out to invite me to things, asked me to dinners, invited me to attend a premiere with him as his guest, made me playlists, and got me a Coachella pass after seeing me post about never having gone to the festival before.

I was in the room not long ago with my Big, and she brought him up and said, “You know he still talks about you, right? He’ll bring you up unprovoked and say that you’re so cool and know all the references” when really all I know is how to time things right, keep my voice and eye contact nice and steady, and hold myself well. The key for me is being passionate but careless too.

I prioritized making connections because I know where my strengths lie, and I know I thrive when I’m given the opportunity to be social. Success in Los Angeles hinges on who you know, and I’ve made so many friends, found opportunities, had new experiences, and had the chance to experience more life through getting to know more people. Connections are key in Los Angeles, and it’s incredibly important to become comfortable talking to and meeting new people as early on as you can so that you have a shot at success.

[akuma-tenshi]

the way dislyte's writing treats falken annoys me so much bc it's literally just like. "before sander came into his life he was a wreck. he'd taught himself that he could only rely on himself and had to be vigilant and strong at all times. this was a bad way to live and it is a good thing that sander found him and brought him out of poverty and helped his family so he wouldn't have to live like that anymore." and i'll be nodding and smiling and agreeing with them like "fuck man that's rough i'm glad he finally found room to rest and breathe and let his guard down a little"

and then they'll turn around and go "so when sander betrayed him, he realised he had to be vigilant and on-edge so that he'll never be betrayed again. and this is good because he is now a commander in the esper union and his vigilance will protect him and his comrades and the only downside is that he is a little unapproachable and lonely. yep yep yep this is good he is in a very good place mentally."

like maybe i'm just a pessimist but. that can't be good for him, right?? i can't be the only person who looks at his divinate's description (word for word: "Falken took his old friend's betrayal more as a warning than as a shock. The heavens may be vast, but one cannot ignore the ground beneath one's feet. Not letting even a sliver of evil cloud his vision, the hawk examines his surroundings dispassionately, lets not a single grain of sand go unobserved.") and goes "that's not a healthy mindset", right???? like he may believe this is good and right and that this outlook is good, but he's also never really been in a place where he could have his walls down until sander came. it really does feel like he's reverting back to the survival tactics he'd learned pre-union, when he was taking on everything people threw at him just to survive, but now the game's acting like it's a good thing because now he's with the union or whatever.

sure, in this world you have to be vigilant at times to make sure you don't get fucking murdered by miramon or whatever. but like... not all the time. how is he when there isn't a single threat?? how is he during leisure time?? at gatherings?? at night when he's trying to sleep?? from what we see of him, he's still somewhat tense, just not with any threats to justify that tension. most fics i've read have treated this as some kind of harmless quirk, as does the writing (if it's not outright romanticising it), but like,, this is genuinely a harmful mindset, especially if left unchecked.

like..... i'm not insane, right?? i'm not losing my mind for no reason over this random-ass 4-star?? it's so unbelievably frustrating bc i feel like this is such an obvious aspect of falken but i haven't seen ANYONE talk about it beyond, again, just some kind of small quirk to his character and not the absolutely awful unhealthy coping mechanism it is.

idk man. smash like for more cool epic falken content or whatever. it's just insane bc he's my favourite character in the game but i haven't seen many people talk abt him beyond his looks or his relationship with sander. which is,, fine, sander's a major part of his story ((can't really speak on his looks as i'm not a men liker)), but i am begging people to look beyond that and realise falken is at his core a deeply unhealthy person whose shitty coping mechanisms are good for those around him, and thus he never really has to change them bc if they help others, what's the harm??

[jazzy-art-time]

THEY HAVE ARRIVED AND I AM SOOOO HAPPY YIPPEE A YAHOOO!!!

my phone is NOT doing the colors justice at all. I promise they are much better in person. I sadly do not have Proper Influencer Lighting or Display space, so the wall by a ceiling fan will have to do!

I'm sooo happy with these and how they came out!! I will 100% getting more in the future, including keychains and stuff heehoo SOME RAMBLES ABOUT THEM BELOW/MY EXPERIENCE ORDERING THEM:

I am not a sponsored influencer but I'll speak my best!!

Where did I get these done?: Wooacry! I saw some other artists recommending this website due to affordable prices and the fact that you do not have to order in bulk! This website does a LOT of different things from stickers to photocards to a million different standees to metal coins etc etc! The website is also Anti-AI image and Text so that is a bonus

I will say the process of getting these done was surprisingly easy. The website has a very clear and easy to understand upload system. I am very bad at understanding formatting to these things but it was shockingly easy. They also have many tutorials on how to upload/how to format so there was plenty of steps shown It was really nice! They also use RGB coloring instead of CMYK, in case anyone was wondering! I hate fighting with cmyk coloring filters so that was nice for me lmao I paid $24.93 USD for these (including shipping) They were around 8 dollars each on their own. They had 3 shipping options: standard fast (<- this is the one I chose, which was around 8 dollars) fastest

The standee's ARE see through, not entirely but it is a thing To be fair... its.. clear plastic. I would anticipate that no matter what I was advised by a friend to use a basic background/single color instead of doing anything major on the back. So I did! Honestly I don't personally mind it that much? I do not care about the back of a standee they are facing towards me anyways. but also the website does put a disclaimer about them being see through in certain light. So there is that! In some light it is more noticeable than in others, depends on how bright and direct the light is! But again.. this isn't a issue for me as they are going to be facing me on my desk by a wall

The base for the standee I did NOT make myself, they had a LOT of cool premade ones for you to choose from! And also the option to make your own... I chose the premade one just to be easy.

They came packaged very well and safe. Proper bubble wrap was in place and each piece of the standee had front and back plastic protectors (the ones that you peel off) So they arrived very safe and in perfect condition for me!

As for how long they took to get to me?: 21 Days* I can't honestly complain about the shipping/how long they took. I had unfortunately ordered during a special Chinese New Year week, where they did state things would be delayed due to the holiday. As well as there was a snow storm in my area so they took longer due to that as well So I can't actually complain about shipping or anything? I would have to place another order to see "Normal" shipping/production time.

OVERALL... They were surprisingly cheap The plastic is nice n thick The website was easy to use They came neatly and safely packaged With this order I had zero problems! Which is great 4 me! I will 100% be ordering more when I get the chance! I am so over the moon to have like... physical "merch" of my own OCs. Almost cried because I am a big baby.

If I ever order more stuff I will... I WILL be posting them lmao

[chocodile]

Hi ! I’ve been a massive fan through the years, seeing you develop Hyden and his world and how full of life and wonder and details is so awe inspiring and cool! I really love your work and your style is so vibrant and electric! It always makes me happy when I see your posts pass by

I wanted to ask if you had any advice about wanting to share your stories with the world. I get so anxious that no one will care and I’ll just be posting to no one. I don’t want fame , just mutual interaction or have people genuinely curious , hear about others stories and be able to tell my own

How did you start? I don’t want to assume , but you do have so much confidence and are very well spoken in the way you explain your lore, what helped you get over any fears or worries?

Gosh, thank you so much for the compliments! That's so sweet of you to say… it means a lot to me that people enjoy my stuff.

My thoughts on your other questions about sharing stories are long, rambling, and disjointed… apologies in advance for the length, I swear I tried to edit this down:

Regarding sharing stories, I'd say the most useful thing you can possibly have is to have at least one friend you share story stuff with who is totally on board with it and having fun too. I've been coming up with stories and characters my entire life, and only twice have I really had an audience for it. Every other time it was just me and my sister, or me and a couple friends, or me and my wife doing creative stuff semi-privately just for the joy of the craft.

(Of course, I know that's easier said than done… but if you do have creative friends, organizing some plans to share stories with each other, ask questions, create AUs where your OCs from different stories interact with each other, etc can be very psychologically nutritious.)

Regarding feeling anxious, I suppose I never felt much anxiety about it myself, so I'm not sure how to advise there… I was a teenager on Neopets where putting massive amounts of work into character stories that nobody might ever read was the norm… unless you were astronomically popular, it was expected that you would probably never hear from your audience and would never know how many people read your stories. Everything was primarily for your own entertainment, and I carried that approach forward into other creative works. Of course, it's hard not to feel a little self-conscious these days, when you can easily see what people are saying and see who is getting "engagement" and who is not... but I do think that aiming to entertain yourself (and perhaps one or two friends) first and foremost is the healthiest approach. Plus, if you are really invested in something and constantly producing lots of art and info about it, people tend to pick up on that positive energy.

Apologies if this isn't super useful... I know "just don't care and also happen to have a bunch of friends with very specific interests!" is not very helpful advice in itself.

I have many other thoughts on "launching" a story, how to meet other OC creators, and trying to build an audience who interacts with your characters... it's something I've thought about a lot. I can share my insights for others in this boat, if anyone's interested? I'm unsure if I should include them here since it might feel lecture-y to Anon (and also this post is long enough, PHEW). Let me know if you're interested in hearing them though!

[blackcatxmagic]

Telling Stoker about his issues was terrifying, but Winter wouldn't have done it if he didn't feel like he could trust him. Yes, they had just met, but there was something about the other that just felt, well, trustworthy, and maybe he'd come to regret this, but Winter didn't think so. There was nothing about Stoker that gave Winter the vibe that he would somehow use this information against him, though admittedly Winter wasn't sure he would have gotten into it if Stoker hadn't seen the notes. He sat down next to Stoker, telling him what he could about his issues, not quite able to meet Stoker's eyes as he told them about it. But eventually as he finished, Winter looked at them finally, smiling when he heard their response. "Not everyone is as patient or as understanding as you," Winter said quietly, and he reached up and grabbed Stoker's shoulder, giving it a grateful squeeze. "Thanks for being so cool about it." The more they talked, the most certain Winter became that they were going to be friends, that inviting Stoker over here had been a good idea. "I feel like I can tell you things, which maybe is weird since we just met, but I do," he admitted to the other softly.

Smiling at Stoker's response, Winter said, "I do that too. Actually it's not just breakfast. Sometimes I just want a snack, and that's one of my go-to options." Having so much honey all the time hadn't dampened Winter's love of it. "Sometimes I sprinkle a bit of cinnamon on it when I do that too, and that's amazing, especially with the right kind of honey." If Winter hadn't been a beekeeper, he wasn't sure if he'd have known just how many types of honey there really were, and while sometimes the differences in flavor were subtle, other times they were really noticeable, at least to Winter.

When he heard Stoker's reply, Winter wasn't quite sure what they meant, though he had an idea. That was especially true as Stoker continued, and Winter felt a little uneasy now, though it wasn't because of what Stoker was saying, not really. It was because he agreed with him. While Winter had started taking notes, soon he was too lost in thought about Cardinal Hill and all the occurrences that had been going on, and he turned to Stoker and said, "Things have been really weird in town lately, haven't they? I know I don't remember a lot of things, but I just don't feel like it was always like this. Somethings feels different, and not in a good way." This wasn't something Winter often talked about, but he felt like Stoker was someone he could confide in. "The storms...the dreams...the newsppaer and the attacks and all of that...it just doesn't feel natural you know?" he went on. "Is that what you mean? Like...are you investigating those things?" If so, Winter thought that he might want to help; he had a lot of questions too.

"I totally understand that," Stoker nodded their head. They couldn't understand what that was like personally, not being a beekeeper or anything of the likes themself, but what Winter said made complete sense to Stoker all the same. There were a lot of things that Stoker was made up off, things like speculation, substance use, and adventuring, and without any of those things, Stoker would have lost of piece of himself and who he was. It was different to Winter's connection with his honey, but enough for Stoker to respect that it was a big part of who Winter was.

Even while Winter was experiencing no honey shortage, Stoker still appreciated the gift endlessly. Even as Winter was just about belittling the gift, reasoning that it wasn't as special as Stoker felt it was due to the large amount of honey he had, Stoker's feelings about it didn't change. "You're a really nice person, Winter," Stoker felt a flash of insecurity hit him in the chest as he felt so very different from that. He was friendly, sure, but Stoker had also done things that would always make him feel like an inherently bad person. He ran a hand through his long hair, as if to reset himself and will the bad thoughts away. "That makes no sense to me at all," Stoker shook his head in disbelief - though he did believe that people were sometimes put off by Winter's memory issues, but only because he knew all too well how awful human beings could be. "I'm not perfect, but something like this would never put me off."

Stoker had already thought that Winter was incredibly interesting, but to be gaining an insight into his issues - issues that Stoker hadn't even caught a glimpse of, unknowingly - it bumped that interesting level up by several notches. Of course, Stoker wasn't happy to hear that his friend struggled so much, but that didn't change the fact that it was incredibly interesting to learn about, both the issues and the way that Winter dealt with them. "I can only imagine just how difficult it'd be," Stoker nodded his head. He had never experienced anything like what Winter was going through, but he had altered his mind with drugs and other substances; that was uncomfortable enough as it was, when Stoker came to, sobering up and realising he had no memory of the time he had spent under the influence. For this to be a constant for Winter, one that he didn't inflict upon himself willingly each time, would have been awful. "You don't need to be embarrassed around me, though," he smiled, though he knew his words were only words, and that if Winter were to ever believe them, it would likely take time and proof.

"Oh man," Stoker's face lit up at the comment about honey on toast. "I used to eat that for breakfast all the time as a kid, but I haven't had it for years. I'd almost forgotten about it completely," Stoker shook their head, smiling fondly in recollection. "I think I know what'll be on the menu tomorrow morning," she chuckled, wondering if it'd be a throwback for Silas, too, or if Silas wasn't subjected to the same one-trick-pony that was the live in staff that made Stoker's breakfast as a young child.

"I guess we don't really know that much about each other, no," not past the surface facts and the small pieces of information that had been relevant thus far. Stoker chuckled as he tried his best to think about what exactly he did with his days, always finding it hard to come up with an answer. "Yeah, it's absolutely fine," he first reassured the other, still not put off by the other's need to have information written down for the sake of his memory issues. "That's a hard question though, honestly," he cocked his head to the side in thought. "I like to explore kinda, I guess that's the best way to put it. I'm..." he hesitated as he thought about whether or not he wanted to be so honest, but as Winter had already established a close, open connection between them, he quickly realised that he wasn't afraid of doing so. "I'm a bit of a... Well I don't know how to put it, but I think this town is kinda strange, in ways, and I'm always trying to find out more about it. So I like to explore, and talk to people, and- well find things out, I suppose."