#if only they could see the rest of my art here!!

[ladsheadcanoncorner]

Yessss feed me the headcanonssssss

Can we get overprotective? Maybe like what they would do if your asshole ex shows up or something like that?

absolutely (gender neutral ex so you can picture as you see fit)! as a girly with a bad ex, i would've loved to have the boys there to defend me. hope anyone out there dealing with this can find some comfort here too <3

rating: sfw cw: bad ex, threats of violence ✉︎♡: ask box open, tumblr users + anons

Xavier:

Man is jealous of himself, so you can only imagine how he is when he finally meets your infamous ex at a work mixer

Xavier shakes hands and greets everyone except your ex, who he won’t even look at

He is grabby with you for the rest of the night. Hand in yours, on your back, on your shoulder. He won’t let you out of his sight for even a second

You: “Xav, it’s okay. We broke up a long time ago and -”

Your ex makes the mistake of jumping into the conversation right then. “Could only get someone who’s already trapped with you at work all day, huh?”

Xavier looks calm, but you can see rage flashing in his eyes

He takes a step toward your ex and quietly and calmly says, “Anyone who lost such a prize must be an idiot, and I don’t fight unfair matches.”

Before your ex can say anything else, Xavier is already leading you out of the party, hand on the back of your neck so that everyone, including your ex, can see that you’re his

“Let’s go home so I can show you just how lucky I am to have you.”

Zayne:

You’re at a cafe before work, one of the rare times you and Zayne have matching shifts

While waiting for your coffee to be called, you hear the barista say a familiar name

You and Zayne both whip your heads to look at the pickup counter, and your heart sinks when you see your ex

Zayne knows some details about your ex since you grew up together, but it is enough that he instantly turns on his protective side

The barista calls your name and Zayne’s next, and Zayne squeezes your hand before getting up to get the drinks

Right as your ex is reaching for the drink, Zayne slides in front and picks up the drinks you ordered with ease, cutting your ex off

The coldest delivery of, “It’s polite to say sorry, but I’m really not.”

Your ex starts to get upset but Zayne has already turned his back with your drink

He calls over his shoulder, “The life of a surgeon is busy. If you wanted to go first you should’ve gotten a better job.”

Zayne hands you your coffee with an easy smile and a kiss, making sure your ex is watching the entire exchange

Rafayel:

You and Raf are touring a museum to see the spot where his newest painting will be installed later that month

When you hear a familiar voice at the end of the hall, you freeze

Rafayel: “What’s wrong, cutie?” You: “That voice sounded just like my ex. You know that ex.”

Rafayel merely nods, and then drapes an arm over your shoulder as you keep walking forward, pulling you as close to his body as he can

Rounding the corner, your ex spots you and sneers, “Surprised to see you finally got back out there.”

Rafayel turns to you and says, “Aw cutie, I didn’t know you used to do charity work.”

You don’t know whose jaw drops to the floor faster, you or your ex

Raf looks at your ex and then continues nonchalantly, “I’m putting up a new art piece this month. You should really check out the red paint, I think it’ll match your vibe.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek and then the two of you leave the museum, Raf never letting you out from under his arm

You: “You’re not really going to use that paint in the museum, right?” Raf, coldly: “No, but I might make a custom piece if that asshole ever thinks of talking to you again.”

Sylus:

When Sylus gets back to the base one night, he can’t find you in any of your usual spots

Rationally he knows that Mephisto would have told him if you were in any sort of danger, but emotionally Sylus can feel his heart rate starting to speed up

He finally finds you on the terrace, having a rather heated conversation on the phone

He knows you’re completely capable of fighting your own battles, but as soon as he hears that name - the one you told him about, who hurt you - all bets are off

Casually strides over to you and plucks the phone out of your hand with a, “Let me handle this, sweetie.”

His hand is tracing protective circles on your back when he says, “How did you get this number?” Your ex on the other line instantly gets defensive.

“I’m going to stop you right there. Nobody talks to me like that and gets away unscathed, but nobody talks to her like that and lives. If you value that pathetic little life of yours, I’d leave town for a while.”

He hangs up the phone and then blocks the number before handing it back to you

Sylus: “I don’t think your ex will be bothering you anytime soon.” You: “Yeah because you threatened them?” Sylus: “It was more of a promise, kitten.”

He spends the rest of the night being extra romantic. Stealing long kisses whenever you walk by, taking you to his vinyl room to slow dance, and making sure you know just how much you are worth loving 

Caleb:

You’ve been acting weird all night, even though Caleb took you to your favorite restaurant

Caleb: “You’ve barely touched your food. Are you feeling alright?” You: “Yeah everything is fine. I’m just tired.”

As if you could ever actually lie to Caleb, but he doesn’t press the issue further

On the way out of the restaurant, you pass by a table close to the door, where you’re greeted with a, “Is that Y/N?”

As soon as Caleb sees your ex, he is like a different person. He’s squaring his shoulders, his hand is protectively gripping yours, and his eyes are absolutely determined

Of course he knows all about your ex, being on the receiving end of all of the nights you spent crying over this horrible person, but meeting face to face is a different story

Caleb puts on a fake smile and then bends down by the table so as not to cause a scene

“If you even so much as look at her again, I promise it will be the last thing you do. Understand?”

When Caleb stands up, your ex sees just how much he towers over them, and they shrink back in their seat

He then makes a dramatic display of kissing you right in front of them before you leave the restaurant

“Want to go get ice cream to make up for all of that, or should we skip right to the dessert at home?”

[kirkwallguy]

magic (and the lack of it)

Justice needs a healer. Anders is always happy to help. [written for day one of @andersweek2025 ! minor tw for mentions of wounds / needles, and one brief reference to suicide] read on ao3

“Mage, I seek your counsel.”

Anders looked up from his book - he’d been enjoying a rare moment of quiet beside the fire while the Warden Commander was attending to business in the city. Usually he went with her, revelling in the chance to walk through the markets without having to watch his back constantly; but he was still licking his wounds after a drunken argument with Oghren the night before and didn’t fancy trading jabs for the rest of the day. That dwarf was ruthless when he was hungover.

Justice had stayed behind as well. Walking corpses weren’t often welcome in cities. Anders could sympathise.

Looking at him now as he hesitated in the doorway, it was hard to see him for what he was. He shuffled awkwardly, shifting his weight from foot to foot – he had once confided in Anders that this was a mannerism he’d learned by observing low ranking soldiers stationed at the keep. It was oddly sweet to think of him standing in front of the mirror, practicing his movements, wondering which made him look the most human.

“I have a name you know,” Anders said, snapping his book shut and propping himself up on one elbow, “I’m not defined by my mage-iness.”

Justice stilled, an unreadable expression on his face, “my apologies, Anders.”

Teasing Justice was almost criminally easy - if the heart in Kristoff’s chest had pumped blood, he might have even blushed. Anders softened and put his book down, patting the space beside him on the rug.

“Come here and tell Anders your woes,” he cooed, stretching lazily. He wasn’t trying to flirt – not really, anyway – but he couldn’t help feeling a little curious. Who wouldn’t be? Kristoff had had a wife, did those same urges still exist in there somewhere? 

Seemingly not. Justice crossed the room to stand beside the fire for a second before plopping down on the rug, arranging himself so he sat cross-legged and stiff-backed. Up close, it was even easier to tell that he didn’t need to breathe or blink. Eerie.

Justice ducked his head, “I require your assistance with a personal matter.”

“Oh?”

“You are trained in the art of healing, are you not? I need-” Justice paused for a moment, struggling to find the words, “my body is damaged.”

Anders looked at him, “we do have an infirmary, you know. You might prefer it there – I have a terrible bedside manner.”

“I would rather you look.”

He seemed nervous, staring directly into Anders’ eyes as the Warden Commander had taught him to. 

“Alright,” Anders sighed, sitting up straight and gesturing vaguely, “whip it out and let me see.”

Carefully, Justice unfolded himself and rolled up the sleeve of his left arm; he’d taken to wearing a simple shirt and breeches around the keep when not in armour, having found them beneath his pillow in the dormitory. They accentuated his sunken features, making him look even more skeletal than usual.

In the wavering firelight, Justice’s skin looked almost alive. Anders leaned forward to study it. At first it was hard to see what he was supposed to be looking at - the flesh of his arm was gnarled and warped, stomach-turning reminiscent of the many blight victims Anders had come across in the past few months. 

After a moment, Anders’ eyes fell on a large gash just below his inner elbow. Had he been alive, it would have been gushing blood – spurting, even, if it was as deep as it appeared – but without a working circulatory system, it could only weep sadly.

“Makers’ breath!” Anders couldn’t help recoiling slightly, “when did you do that?”

Justice looked down at the wound, “I don’t know.”

Anders wasn’t squeamish. You couldn’t live the life he’d led and come out the other end easily disgusted by blood or pus or any other bodily fluids. But the idea of tending to Justice’s rotting wounds, holding his arm in his hands and putting his face close enough to smell the decay? That gave him pause.

It must have shown on his face. He’d never been good at hiding his feelings. Justice smiled sadly, pulling his arm away and rolling his sleeve back down.

“I apologise,” he said, yet again, “clearly you are uncomfortable.. Perhaps it would be best for me to visit the infirmary after all.”

There was an air of resignation to the way he spoke, as though he’d been expecting the rejection all along. He knew what he was, how he made people feel. Most paled when they saw him up close, cringing away from the smell of rot that lingered about him – why should Anders be any different?

Then again, why shouldn’t he be?

“Wait!” He said, reaching out to grab Justice’s wrist and suppressing that instinctual shudder when his fingers circled around the cold skin, “don’t be silly – it’s only a little cut, I can patch you up easily.”

Justice’s eyes widened. He let Anders grip him tightly, unmoving.

It was intense. A little too intense for Anders’ liking; he broke eye contact, smiling gingerly as he pulled away. If Justice reacted to the loss of contact – relief or disappointment or resignation – Anders made sure not to look for it. Instead, he turned his gaze to the fire, fixing his mind solidly on the task ahead of him. 

Justice breathed heavily and Anders smiled, knowing it was all for his benefit.

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense,” Anders smiled, “I’ll run and get my tools. Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to teach you a thing or two.”

—

It took all but a few moments to return with the supplies he needed and lay them out on the carpet for Justice to see: needle, thread, forceps, scissors, gauze, bandages, a half-used poultice, and a shallow basin of warm water. Half of them were just for show, Justice wasn’t bleeding, nor was he in pain - Anders wasn’t even sure what good a needle and thread would do, given how his thin skin seemed to be practically rotting off the bone. He almost gagged imagining how it would feel to pierce it, the soft crackling of it beneath his fingers.

He’d sewn dead skin together before, of course, like any other Circle mage who had taken an interest in healing. But that had been carefully preserved, manipulated to mimic living flesh as much as possible so as to prepare apprentice healers for the real thing. And those had been bits and pieces, cuts of farm animals that weren’t fit to be eaten. It was different when the corpse had been dead for several weeks and was staring at you with unseeing, anxious eyes.

“So,” Anders said, breaking a silence that had stretched on for far too long, “I’m going to try and sew your wound together – you saw me tending to Sigrun’s knee last week, didn’t you? This will be similar except… a little bigger, I suppose.”

Justice frowned, “I still don’t understand why your magic is not sufficient for this task.”

“Hey, my magic is plenty sufficient!”

This was a frequent annoyance and a conversation Anders felt he must have had a thousand times with a thousand people – even in the Circle it wasn’t common knowledge that healing magic was best used alongside more traditional methods rather than instead of them. Any powerful enough mage could knit skin back together with magic – Anders himself could do it fairly easily – but it was a useless and risky indulgence that only the most desperate of healers would resort to.

Still, how was Justice supposed to know this? Anders sighed and picked up the needle, testing its sharp point against his finger.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, our world is filthy. An open wound is a problem, yes, but so is a closed one that hasn’t been cleaned properly. Now, if I sew you together, any infection will be obvious and easily treatable; it may even sort itself out if you’re healthy enough otherwise.

“But if the skin heals over an infection? Sometimes, you won’t even notice the signs before it’s too late. There’s nowhere for the dirt to escape from, so it bides its time until it’s strong enough to expel itself by force. Sometimes that means vomiting on someone’s shoes, but sometimes it means you lose an arm, or your lungs fill with fluid, or your bowels explode. And let me tell you, even if you can’t feel pain, none of those things will be a pleasant experience for you.”

Justice stared at him, “you’ve studied this at length.”

“Not much else to do in the Circle, is there?” Anders shrugged, “better this than becoming one of those poor sods that obsesses over entropy or necromancy. No offence.”

Still staring, Justice frowned.

“I dislike hearing about these Circles.”

He meant it. Something inside of Anders twisted and he turned his head away, gripping the needle tightly in his fist.

Justice went silent. When it was clear he wasn’t going to keep prodding, Anders stood up and crossed the room to stare into the fire. Even with his back turned, he felt those corpse-like eyes watching him. Self conscious, he bent down and held the needle to the flames, not caring as it began to heat up and burn his fingertips. 

“What are you doing now?”

Anders pulled the needle from the fire and shrugged, “fire kills infection. You’ve seen the funeral pyres whenever there’s a darkspawn attack, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we don’t do that for fun.” He said, “here – let me show you.”

It was strangely difficult to sit back down. There was a tight knot of nerves in Anders’ stomach, like he was about to kiss someone for the first time, that strange mixture of anticipation and excitement and worry. He tried not to let it show, not wanting Justice to mistake it for incompetence.

He held out the needle, still glowing slightly from the fire, “if you ever need to sew someone else up, you’ll have to hold it against a flame until it glows like this. Otherwise, you may as well just rub dirt all over the wound.”

Justice looked at the needle closely, “red...like metal being worked by a blacksmith.”

It was a connection Anders had never made before. He stared at the needle, now cool and dull between his fingers.

“I never did do much smithing,” he said, “not exactly a career for a mage.”

Justice winced but said nothing.

It only took a moment for Anders to prepare everything, threading the needle and making sure the water he’d fetched was still warm. He dipped a cloth into the basin and glanced up at Justice.

“Are you ready to start?”

He always liked to ask before shoving a needle into someone. It didn’t help with the discomfort, not usually, but it felt polite to do so – the Warden Commander hated it, always telling him to stop with the niceties and just get on with what he needed to do. 

Justice seemed to appreciate it, though. He nodded, rolling his sleeve up and offering Anders his arm. Somehow, it looked even worse than before, his pale skin rotting slightly around the edges of the wound – it occurred to Anders suddenly that the injury could be weeks old.

Nervously, he reached out and dabbed at Justice’s arm. He was half afraid the skin would fall apart as soon as he touched it, but it held surprisingly firm. There was a thin layer of gunk covering the area surrounding the wound that he tried not to think too hard about, cleaning it methodically and calmly.

Once the skin was clean – or, once Anders had reached his limit – he dried Justice off and picked up the needle and forceps. Justice watched with interest, eyes following Anders’ movements so intensely that he suppressed the urge to blush.

“This might pinch.” He warned.

“I do not mind.”

Of course he didn’t. Anders sighed and leaned forward, picking up the edge of the wound with the forceps. It made a sickening sound, a crackling groan that made him feel queasy.

Circle healers had to have strong stomachs. Anders had once spent weeks trying to explain this years ago while travelling with a group of lifelong apostates during one of his many brief attempts at freedom. They’d made fun of him, asked how many papercuts he’d healed, whether he knew any useful potions for indigestion. They hadn’t understood.

But when one of them had fallen from a tree and snapped his neck, he’d been the only one able to handle preparing the body for the funeral pyre. When he’d explained how common broken necks were at Kinloch, how many times he’d seen this same death play out over and over, a mage falling from their tower, that was when they’d finally understood. He’d stopped travelling with them soon after that.

“Does this hurt?” He asked.

“No.”

“Good,” Anders was genuinely glad, “tell me if you feel any pain. I’m going to start sewing now.”

He was going slower than he usually would and he didn’t know why. He looked into Justice’s blank eyes, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement.

Justice inclined his head slightly. It seemed that that would be all Anders got.

Carefully, more tentative than he’d been since he was an apprentice, Anders pressed the needle into Justice’s arm.

Justice didn’t flinch. He watched in fascination as Anders wove the needle in and out of his skin, using the forceps to manipulate the wound and keep the stitches small and neat. Once he was in the familiar rhythm of suturing, Anders found it easier to stomach being so close to Justice’s rotting flesh – it was nice, even, to be tending to someone so still and patient.

The wound was larger than Anders was used to stitching under such controlled circumstances. Usually, this was something he’d be fixing with bloody, shaking hands, just wanting to stem the bleeding before the patient lost consciousness. Without pressure, it seemed to take forever. The world narrowed down to just his hands as they moved methodically, his slow breaths, his singular heartbeat. It was oddly lonely. He wished Justice would say something.

Around halfway through, he ran into difficulty, finding the skin tougher and harder to work with. It was probably old scar tissue from one of Kristoff’s long-forgotten wounds. 

Anders frowned and pushed the needle hard, forcing it through.

“Oh!” Justice said.

It was the first sound he’d made since Anders began sewing,“that hurt?”

“No. Apologies, I didn’t mean-”

“Justice.”

“Please, keep going.”

Anders knew a lost cause when he saw one. He shrugged and ducked his head, carrying on with his work as gently as he could. There was a little more scar tissue, but he took his time with it, gently pushing the needle through. There were no more complaints from Justice.

When he was done he tied off and cut the thread, breathing a sigh of relief and relaxing. As usual, he’d done a good job – the stitches were neat, the skin pulled tightly closed.

He tilted his head to smile up at Justice, “better, right?”

Justice looked down at him and nodded hesitantly. He attempted to flex his arm, testing the tightness of the stitches. Anders yelped and reached out to grasp his wrist.

“Careful!” His skin was a little warm from where Anders had been cradling it a few moments ago, “be careful. You don’t want to tear anything.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Though Justice’s eyes were dead and blank, Anders swore he saw a stirring of emotion behind them, a mix of gratitude and grief so intense that he found himself drawing back, slowly removing his hand from his wrist.

“I appreciate your care.” Justice said, each word carefully enunciated.

Anders swallowed, “think nothing of it, couldn’t have you walking around with an open wound, could we? Speaking of…”

He scrambled around for his bandages. Justice looked at them blankly.

“I am not bleeding.”

Anders shook his head, “remember what I said about infection earlier? Come on, it’ll only take a moment.”

Once again, Justice held out an obedient arm. Anders wound the bandage around the stitches, careful not to bruise the delicate skin beneath.

It took less time than the stitching, “done,” he said, after a few moments.

Justice drew back, carefully touching the bandage. He said nothing.

“How does it feel?” Anders probed, “not too tight?”

“No.”

Sometimes it felt like Justice didn’t know that words were free with how carefully he used them. Anders stared at him for a moment, trying and failing to think of something to say.

“Did you need help with anything else?” He managed eventually, “no other gaping wounds that need stitching up?”

Justice said nothing, but Anders saw his face change. He was working up the courage to ask for a favour, Anders just knew it. But what kind of favours could a spirit even need? Unless he wanted… No. Anders didn’t even want to entertain the thought.

“Justice?” He said, “come on – spit it out, already.”

Justice sighed, “it is nothing.” He said nervously, “only… I hoped to witness your magical abilities up close. I find the process mildly fascinating.”

“You… what?”

This was a first. Aside from his fellow mages, most people Anders had met found healing magic terrifying – something about the gentle transferring of energy seemed to scare them even more than fireballs or bolts of lightning. He stared at Justice suspiciously, unsure whether he was being genuine.

Justice grimaced, “have I offended you?”

“No! I just – well, most people look away when I heal them.”

“Others have taught you to be ashamed of your gift?”

“What? No. Don’t say it like that.” This conversation was growing more uncomfortable by the second, “I suppose I’m just used to patients being afraid. It’s easier to heal people when you know how to put them at ease.”

“I am at ease with your magic.”

“I know, Justice.”

There was little else left to say. Anders wished he was braver – he could have shown Justice his magic if he wanted to, he could have sliced himself open and healed his own wound to demonstrate him what it looked like, let him look closely as the skin neatly grew back together.

He couldn't face it, couldn’t risk the possibility that Justice was lying to make him feel better. Wasn’t that what spirits did? Lie to mages to flatter them?

Or maybe he was the one lying to himself. Maybe he really was ashamed. Funny, that.

“Next time.” He said weakly.

Justice nodded, seeming to understand. “Indeed.”

[ghostgirl-22]

Tashi and/or Art’s physiotherapist walking in (Art’s room, a locker room, gym, whatever) to find Art and Patrick in just their underwear scrambling to get dressed after having sex.

Yes I could see it anon! Post challenger.

Tashi insists Art and Patrick go out to get a drink or something and try to reconnect since they haven’t really talked to each other in over a decade. Art goes because deep down he misses Patrick but he’s still reserved thinking they’re just gonna talk for an hour.

By hour four they’re drunk and giggling like they’re in high school again. And at 1am when the place is closing they’re still reminiscing so Patrick invites Art back to his place.

Art pings his location to Tashi with a note that he’ll be home soon, but they’re still catching up. They end up hanging out on Patrick’s motel bed. Watching an old movie on cable. Splitting a beer. And before Art realizes what’s happening he’s kissing Patrick. He pulls back shyly. Saying sorry. And Patrick just smiles and climbs on top of him. Then they’re kissing more. Touching all over. Art losing all sense of self in the pursuit of pleasure. Shaky fingers covered in lube. Fucking into Patrick because he needs it. He doesn’t even know how many times they do it. Just knows he’s waking up hungover, butt naked and pleasantly sore in Patrick’s bed to the sound of knocking. He rolls over but Patrick’s not in bed.

“I’m coming,” He stumbles, sleepy to the door. Only his boxers on, scratching his head he pulls it open. “Hey,” he says.

“Is uh… is Art here?”

Shit. It’s his physiotherapist. Tashi must have sent him over when he didn’t show up to his post game session this morning. Patrick pulls open the door and his physio Steve walks in.

It’s at this moment that Art kinda wishes Patrick had a little more shame. He sits up in bed quickly, embarrassment heating his skin as he searches for his clothes which are all over the bed and floor.

“Uh sorry man… um…” Art says, quickly trying to get into his briefs. Steve’s eyes widen when he sees him. He looks for maybe a bit too long before turning to look at the wall.

“No uh… no it’s um… Tashi said you were probably here so I figured I’d bring breakfast.” He holds up one of the shakes Art usually swallows down for breakfast. It was their usual habit to hangout after his post game sessions. Art sees his college buddies four times a year at most and he hasn’t really kept in touch with anyone from high school. Sadly Steve is probably his most consistent guy friend as an adult and he happens to be on the payroll.

“That’s uh… really thoughtful man I appreciate it,” Art says, glaring at Patrick who looks quite amused by all of it. “I completely forgot about our session.”

“I uh— I see. Um…” Steve lingers, he looks at Patrick and then chances another glance in Art’s direction. He’s stepping into his jeans. Or maybe they’re Patrick’s jeans. Fuck.

Patrick rests his elbow against the doorframe, one hand on his hip.“No way you were actually going to train after yesterday?” He asks, yawning.

“No this is my good friend and physiotherapist, Steve.” Art says, sheepish. “I’ve been seeing him nearly everyday since my injury.”

“Hey man, I’ve uh— I’ve heard a lot about you,” Steve says, smiling awkwardly at Patrick, his eyes trailing swiftly up and down his body.

“I bet,” Patrick smirks.

“That’s uh—Patrick and I— we’ve never— I’ve never done anything like this before,” Art says quickly and reassuringly to Steve. In case he’s thinking of bailing now. The way Steve stretches him out so well has led him to walk away with the occasional awkward boner. He’s not into Steve. At least he doesn't think he is.

Steve would always dismiss it saying it happened all the time… and that made Art feel a little less embarrassed about it. But now seeing Art like this Steve’s probably going to rethink the cause of those boners.

“No I mean… it’s no big deal. You know I’m gay so it’s nothing I’m not used to. And since you’re bisexual I figured you had to be—“ Steve starts.

“Huh?” Art interrupts, he’s given up and just decided to wear Patrick’s jeans, he’s buttoning them but they’re still sitting loose on his waist, exposing the thick strap of his briefs.

“It’s no big deal, honest, I’m not calling HR,” Steve says, smiling.

“No the other part,” Art says. “Did you say— did you say you were— that you think I’m—“

Steve laughs. “Is this a joke?”

“Uh I don’t know. I mean… I’m not…” Art begins and then he glances at Patrick, who continues to look endlessly amused.

“We flirt all the time.” Steve says. “You get hard every time I’m stretching you out. You know I love Beyoncé as much as Tashi does. You saw grindr on my phone when I accidentally left it open…”

“Beyoncé is a talented artist.” Is all Art can manage and Patrick laughs. Art tosses a balled up sock at him. He vaguely remembers seeing naked men on Steve’s phone but he’d figured it was some kind of anatomy thing. He’s a physio after all.

“You said the boner thing happens to people all the time…” Art says.

“Yeah it does… with my clients that are into men.”

Art feels his skin heating even more. “We—we don’t flirt,” Art stammers.

Steve laughs this time. “Sure…”

Patrick settles back on the bed. “This is hilarious actually. I like you Steve. Maybe we should all go out and eat real food. And I can tell you about all the times he didn’t flirt with me.”

“I’d definitely be interested,” Steve smiles. Traitor.

And here Art was thinking he drank too much and made a mistake but the whole time Steve thought he was bisexual. God. Maybe he’s bisexual?

“I know you think it’s funny but can you please not mention this to Tashi? God forbid, she finds out from either of you before I can explain myself.”

Steve chokes out another laugh and then covers his mouth. Art frowns at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry… I thought that was another joke. You know, she’s the one who told me you were bi. She said if we hooked up she’d be good with it so I um—I think she knows.”

Art rubs his palms on his thighs refusing to take one more glance at Patrick’s ever widening shit eating grin.

“Oh.”

[b3ach-bunn7]

STEPHANIE

Gojo is your physics tutor and you’re sort of in love with him

Textfic, fluff, Highschool!au

(art Creds to @/eldritcheaven on twitter!)

—————————————————————————-

September 16th

5:38 pm

You: hiyaaa :D

You: is this Gojos number? Shoko says u can tutor me 😙

Gojo: whats the tutoring for

You: uh school?

Gojo: I mean what subject..?

You: OH LMAO

You: physics :((

Gojo: okay

Gojo: who r u again

You: Y/N

Gojo: okay meet me at the library Thursday after school

You: okayyy see u there 😁

September 18th

6:40 pm

You: gojo how am I gonna finish all this work BY MONDAY

Gojo: that’s three days

Gojo: this is easy stuff

You: FOR YOU

You: I have cheerleading until seven tomorrow night and Saturday

Gojo: okay..

Gojo: that’s my problem how?

You: okay just say u hate me

Gojo: I hate you

You: whatever

September 21st

1:06 am

You: IM DONE!

You: r u impressed

Gojo: no

You: wtf

Gojo: bring it to me at lunch so I can grade it

You: okayyyy

You: goodnight 🩷

Seen

September 21st

1:40 pm

You: GOJO WHERE R U

Gojo: in the library

You: why aren’t u in the cafeteria

Gojo: because it’s too noisy

Gojo: I can’t read in there

You: ha ha nerddd

Gojo: shut up and hurry up.

You: Okayyyy okay

You: Can u see me 🤔

Gojo: no the bright orange cheerleading costume is really hard to miss

You: 😒

You: So is the bone white hair and glasses

Gojo: hurry up

September 21st

8:12 pm

Gojo: ur so shit at physics

You: Uhm okay

You: thanks? 😭

Gojo: im sorry that was rude

Gojo: fear not that’s why I’m here

You: okay

Gojo: don’t worry it’s nothing my genius can’t fix

You: try not brag challenge fail

Gojo: you free tomorrow?

You: I should be yeah

Gojo: okay come to the library after school

You: can’t wait… 😔

September 22nd

4:06pm

You: Gojo

You: GOJO

Gojo: you are literally in front of me speak

You: nk the librarian is looking at me 😓

Gojo: okay so what

You: don’t look so annoyed at me

Gojo: im not annoyed at u

You: okay fine

You: do u have a highlighter

Gojo: …

You: DONT ROLL UR EYES AT ME

Gojo: there is LITERALLY ONE RIGHT IN FRONT OF U

You: omg ur first caps lock 🙁🩷 I’m so proud

Gojo: stop laughing

You: I’m sorry u look so angry over a highlighter..

You: and I can see you smiling too 😒

Gojo: shut up.

September 23rd

7:06 pm

You: Nerdjo I have a question

Gojo: never call me that

You: 😒😒okay.. can I ask u a question now

Gojo: if it’s about the work I gave u just wait until Friday

You: UTS NOT

Gojo: oh

Gojo: okay what

You: would you rather only drink water for the rest of ur life or be allowed to drink anything you like but it always has to have a drop of pee in it

Gojo: where is the pee coming from

You: You don’t know..

Gojo: is it healthy pee

Gojo: because if not then idk what’s in it and I could contract a disease like typhoid or smth

Gojo: and also utis and that’s painful enough as is without me drinking to catch it

Gojo: also how much is a drop

Gojo: is it a ratio thing? So every 1% of any drink I drink is pee or is it always a drop

Gojo: because in that case I can just drink a lot of smth and the pee will cancelled out

You: wtf

Gojo: sorry I’m rambling

You: No.. don’t apologise.. U have opened my eyes

You: I never thought of it like that

You: Also do u think it would like make my drink yellow..

You: Cause that’s GEROOSS

You: voice note elapsed: 00:40

Gojo: voice note elapsed 1:02

September 24th

2:06 pm

You: IM SO EMBARASSED

You: Walk of shame to my seat in my cheerleading outfit god TAKE ME

Gojo: ha ha ha

Gojo: don’t be late next time

You: Shut up

You: I hate Yaga and he hates me

Gojo: he loves me

You: yeah cause ur good at physics and I’m poo at it

Gojo: better focus then

You: okay

September 24th

2:20pm

You: Gojo

You: Gojo

You: NERDJO!!

Gojo: stop texting me

You: move u bag from the chair next to u

Gojo: what???

You: MOVE IT

You: I’m coming to sit next to you

Gojo: tf why

You: the guy next to me won’t shut up

You: and I need ur nerd aura to make me smarter

Gojo: ur so stupid

Gojo: hurry up then

You: WOPPEE OMW

September 25th

1:06 am

You: Gojo r u awake

Gojo: we have school tmrw go to sleep

You: U R 😏

Gojo: freak

Gojo: what do u want

You: I’m bored

You: And I’m confused on question three on the history hw 😓

Gojo: okay..

Gojo: ask me tomorrow

You: Or I can call u rn an u can help me..?

Gojo: .

You: PLEEEEAAAAAAAAAAASE 🙏

Gojo: you have ten minutes

You: YAY

Gojo and Y/N

25/9/2024 Time elapsed: 30:07

September 25th

11:05 am

You: GOJOOOO

You: Can I sit with u in econ today 😏

Gojo: what do u need help with now

You: Uhmmm I don’t need help

You: I just wanna sit with u..

Gojo: oh

Gojo: okay

You: YIPPEEEE

September 26th

12:21 pm

Gojo: YOU WATCH ANIME??????

You: WHY R U YELLING 😭😭

You: Yes… it’s my deep dark secret don’t tell anyone 😔

Gojo: okay with the sasuke keyring on ur bag…

You: LOL

You: how did you even see it where r u..

Gojo: stalking you in the corridors watch out

You: Okay Joe from you

Gojo: ur living ur own Netflix series rn 🩷

You: EMOJIS???

You: Who r u and where’s Gojo gone??!?££?

You: Whats ur favourite anime

Gojo: voice note elapsed: 1:34

September 28th

2:06 am

Gojo: do u think time travel is real

Gojo: or like will be real in the future

Gojo: I feel it could be because like we just advance in technology more and more as time goes by

Gojo: like if u said FaceTime would be a think in 1920 they’d probably hang u

Gojo: there was that Stephen hawking thing he did with like the party invite but

Gojo: if I was from the future I wouldn’t time travel just to prove him right like u just have an ego now

Gojo: food for thought 🩷

September 28th

7:21 am

You: SORRY I WAS AT PRAVTISE and U messaged me at like one am?)

You: But I thinking about you the whole time

Gojo: awwwww youre making me blush

You: SHURRUP

You: i was thinking about ur question not u

Gojo: same thing kinda

You: enough

You: voice note elapsed: 00:54

Gojo: girl u r not Snow White dinosaurs will eat u

You: We will find out when I time travel to the Jurassic era and kiss one

September 29th

3:37 PM

Gojo: why do u keep staring at me do ur work

You: Cause i have a question for u but im shy..🥺🥺

Gojo: EW cringe

Gojo: just ask me

You: You keep looking at me with those bombastic blue eyes im nervous

Gojo: ur so dramatic

You: DONT LAUGH AT ME

Gojo: so text me then

You: okay….

You: We have a pep rally soon can u come

Gojo: was that it..

You: YES

Gojo: girl im coming anyway geto is playing

You: UR FRIENDS WITH GETO???

Gojo: hes my best friend

You: Wait thats true ur always together

You: You know allll the girls on my team have a phat crush on him🤧

Gojo: mhm

Gojo: and are you one of those girls?

You: Nah hes not my type

Gojo: and what is ur type

You: Boys with bombastic blue eyes😏

You: R U BLUSHINGGGG

Gojo: shut up and do ur work

September 30th

9:45 pm

Gojo: ar eu home

You: Yeah why..

Gojo: play roblox with me

You: LOL

You: How’d u know im a gaymer..

Gojo: hoe u is not a gaymer

You: HEY

You: ill have u know im plat on overwatch..?

Gojo: wait actually

You: Actually

Gojo: ….

Gojo: HOP ON OW

You: Uhm sorry i cant im doing the hw my annoying tutor sent me

Gojo: im sure ur sexy smoking hot tutor will let u off this time

You: YAY

Gojo and Y/N

30/9/2024 Time elapsed: 3:46:07

October 1st

12:34 pm

Gojo: pep rally in five days

Gojo: r u nervous

You: Gojo texting me in school..?

Gojo: dont change the subject sweetheart

You: POO

You: Im scared yeah

You: I always am before a game tho

You: Like what if my shirt slips when I’m flipping and i flash my bra

Gojo: the game will get ten times better?

You: HEY

Gojo: JOKUNG IM JOKING

You: As an apology take me out for lunch today 😙

Gojo: ugh fine

You: XD

October 2nd:

2:07 pm

You: WHERE R U

You: GOJO

Gojo: me and geto went out for lunch

You: COME BACK NOW

Gojo: are you okay????

You: YES I WANNA GIVE U A HUG AND A KISS

Gojo: are you having a stroke??

You: SHOKO GAVE ME THE KEYRING

You: A LITTLE NARUTO TO MATCH MY SASUKEEE

You: THANK U SM

Gojo: ur welcome

You: 😁😁😁

You: Bring me back a coke

Gojo: ugh fine

Gojo: do i still get that hug and kiss

You: hmmm I’ll see

October 3rd:

10:21 am

You: image attachment

You: LOOK LOOK LOOK

Gojo: WELL DONE

You: A BBBBBB

You: IN PHYSICSS WHO AM I

Gojo: WELL DONE

You: Thanks for the tutoring🤤

Gojo: wait im the goat

You: hoe EYE am the goat..?

Gojo: i guess it was a team effort

You: Yeah duh

Gojo: good job sweetheart

You: 😁😁😁😁

October 3rd:

9:06 pm

You: ik we had plans but let me come home then we can play

You: Practise ran so late sorry pookie

Gojo: wait ur at school rn??

You: Yes….. kms shortly😔

Gojo: how r u getting home?

You: Walking

Gojo: girl..?

You: My parents r working and i cant drive leave me ALONE

Gojo: wait im coming to get u

You: You dont need to do that gojo

Gojo: i do im omw

You: OKay

You: Btw i like ur new glasses

Gojo: u noticed?

Gojo: stop staring at me all the time omg..

You: I cant help it

You: i love u and all four of ur bombastic blue eys

Gojo: not picking u up anymore

You: IM SORRRY🙏🙏🙏🙏

You: PLZ COME MY KNIGHT IN SHINING GLASSES

You: PLEASEEEE

Gojo: ughhh fineee

Gojo: just because u begged so nicely

You: ahahahah SHUT UP

October 3rd

10:15 pm

Gojo: r u home

You: u literally just watched me walk through my door

Gojo: so..

Gojo: what if someone took u from inside

You: Ur right hoe…

Gojo: im always right

You: Yeah yeah freaking nerd

Gojo: dont hate me cause u aint me

Gojo: ima graduate cum laude in the future

You: Why u talkign about cum u freak

Gojo: shut up

You: cum laude more like cum load 🤣🤣

Gojo: i hate u

You: LMAOOO

You: Ik ur laughng rn

You: Call me

Gojo: say please

You: Please call me four eyes🤞

Gojo and Y/N

03/10/2024 Time elapsed: 4:20:07

October 4th

3:47 am

Gojo: omg did I tell you

Gojo: I was reading this essay on behavioural psychology and it was talking about how like the concept of territoriality in humans it’s so interesting

Gojo: it’s related to how primates make their space

Gojo: not like actually of course nobody is peeing anywhere

Gojo: it’s also related to quantum physics in an weird way

Gojo: voice note elapsed: 2:12

October 4th

7:54 am

You: Whatever you say gorgeous 🙏🙏🙏

You: THATS COOL THO A

You: I got like a quarter of what u said but icloveee psychology

You: I wanna study it at university

You: my fav part is attachment and like child development and stuff

You: so ur next rant topic is going to be about that thanks 🩷

Gojo: did u actually listen to all that

Gojo: sorry I get carried away

You: Duh I listened and don’t apologise or ill shoot u

Gojo: thanks 🩷

Gojo: i bought u a coffee

You: YAYY

You: I’ll meet u at the entrance

October 5th

1:07 am

Gojo and Y/N

05/10/2024 Time elapsed: 2:39:07

Gojo: good luck for tomorrow

You: Thank u 😁

You: I’m gonna need it…

Gojo: shut up ur gonna do fine

Gojo: I’ll cheer u on from the stands

You: YAY

October 6th

3:54 pm

Gojo: get off ur phone and lock in

You: I CANT FIND U

Gojo: I’m like the third row from the bottom

Gojo: next to Shoko

You: I SEE U

You: I recognise those bombastic blue eyes anywhere🩷🩷🩷🩷

Gojo: awww is that big smile all for me

You: Shut it

You: Are those big flowers all for me??? 😁

Gojo: no they’re for the huzz

You: What if I kill you?

Gojo: plz don’t

Gojo: they are for u

You: Ur such a nerd

You: Thank u 😏

You: Ur coming to getos after right??

Gojo: yes

You: Good

Gojo: but

You: Butbwhat

Gojo: we could hang out instead

Gojo: just me and you

You: Are u asking me out on a date gojo????

Gojo: yeah kinda

You: I can see u blushing from over here

You: DONT TURN AROUJD

You: Ofc I’d rather hang out with u

You: See u after the rally😙😙😙😙

Gojo: good luck

Gojo: u look pretty in ur uniform

You: Thwnk u 😁😁😁

—————————————————————————

NERDJJO ONE CHANCE PLEASEEEE 🤞🤞🤞😓🥺 these text fics r so fun to write oh my sigma..

guys I know Gojo was kinda mean at first but he thought u were using him for his smarts… also idk I headcanon that he’s not as energetic as he is canonically.. like u think hes always bragging and dry but hes actually just itching to tell u facts about quantum physics

I HOOE U ALL ENJOYED 🩷 as always drop any asks in my inbox !!!!

[cxs-workshops]

Hi. I’m the person who almost attempted suicide, twice. Been nearly a year now, it’s out there, I do not care who knows.

Didn’t want to jump in this but here we fucking go: First to be fucking clear, and which no one, might I add. came to me directly to ask, all the the Logan/anon drama was NOT the reason I did why I did what I did. It didn’t help the situation, but it wasn’t the sole reason. I had so much IRL issues going on at the time, and I realize the petty stuff with the anon hate made it seem like it was the only reason but I barely thought about it while I was doing the thing. I have half the mind to bill a certain party the rest of my medical debt but hey, we’re gonna move on.

I cut myself off from fan servers and from most people in the community due to being anxious all the time, thus being alone since late 2023. If I was talking to anyone, it would be purely about the game or art stuff. Snowy & Goons, how DARE you use my situation to your benefit, and any of the posts I’ve made. You cannot outright accuse someone else of my suicide attempt without any concrete evidence. That’s a damn serious accusation. All we have are petty Tumblr anon messages. And ooo guess what, not every single Logan fan is gathered at Simprock, there are plenty of other individuals within the community, outside of fan servers. Who’s to say that your goons aren’t the ones posing as the anons for them to be framed? Idk but you can’t keep talking out of your ass. My harassment started roughly around 2020/21, I can’t even remember who said what at the time and who’s to say the same people are even around anymore. Should I have collected evidence? Seeing how it all came to this, yeah I definitely should have. I don’t have evidence, but most importantly NEITHER DO YOU. Which applies to many things for you.

Simprock was the last server I had joined. During the brief time I was there, was treated with nothing but kindness and respect. I admit, I do still have a sort of distrust with them, for other reasons, but with this it’s hard not to be on their side( and with apparent evidence) . Actually in fact, it was when Snowy had also joined Simprock, I bolted out of there shortly. I wasn’t there long enough to get to know anyone but I saw your name and my skin immediately crawled. We never talked directly but I first saw you in the bootleg my time server (late 2022-mide2023) the vibes were immediately off. I’m not of fan of Logan either but you were constantly belittling them, not cool. To think you’ve escalated this far…baffling.

Back to using my posts to your benefit, the zine post. How the fuck did you immediately accuse them again when I said I wasn’t joining either zines. Again I couldn’t even guess who the anons were but hey, could be your goons posing again. Just because a person liked it immediately meant it was an attack against you? Dude. Reaching aren’t we.

Some days I take a step back, and think. There were several different ways to have handled my harassment, and I was thinking one of those ways was the one you’re taking Snowy, and I can’t begin to imagine it, not even a little. Why? Because this is fucking insane behavior. I wouldn’t have begun to do something like this good gracious. If I made anyone uncomfortable last year anytime after my attempt or during all the hate anon messages, I genuinely didn’t mean to and I apologize. I appreciate more than anything that the lot of you gathered to help me during and afterwards. I’ll always be thankful.

I’m going to cut myself off here before I get pissed again, but one more thing.

F YOU SNOWY I FN KNEW ITBWAS YOU TALKING SHIT ABOUT QUINLAN. I don’t play about my characters and for you to mischaracterize them like this UGH JUST 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Please Leave me Alone

Hi, I’ve been sort of attempting to avoid making a post about this but due to numerous concerned individuals reaching out to me and the amount of receipts that I’ve been given regarding this I have to make one last attempt to address the person who has been doing this to me for the past few months.

I know what you’re doing, and you know it’s dishonest and wrong. This needs to stop. Targeting others and involving them in your personal drama just for interacting with me is unacceptable, and the misinformation and harassment have to end.

I’m giving you the chance to take accountability and tell the truth. If I continue to hear that this behavior is still happening, I’ll have no choice but to address it directly.

I’m not interested in some self-made competition for attention and the drama - I just want to share my love for this game and community together with my friends. Please leave me alone.

For the record: I have never, and will never, send anonymous hate to anyone - especially not over being queer or creating gay art. As a queer minority myself, I stand for marginalized communities and will always support safe, inclusive spaces for everyone.

It’s incredibly unfair to your friends as well, who you have most likely been feeding false versions of the story. It’s also unfair to pull completely uninvolved individuals trying to enjoy their time in this space into this especially when you know that this is untrue- then hide behind alt accounts and your friends, which will unfairly put them in a position where they have been defending someone who has been dishonest to them.

I wanted to believe that you were going through a rough spot and that it led you to doing this in a bad state of mind, but this is becoming excessive and I want you to please use this opportunity to reflect on this because you know what you have been doing is wrong and hurts everyone.

[seiishindraws]

Hii, I saw your latest post and your art style is so pretty?? What?? I have a question though. How do you do the paint one? Or rendering in general. Like genuinely, I have a problem with rendering and I can't seem to quite understand it on my own. Do you just start with flat colors? Do you do lineart or colors right after the sketch? Is the "lineart" just added later? Painted over? Erased to give thinner and thicker lines?? I'm really curious!!

hi! im not the best painter tbh! though i do have a background in painting but ill try my best to explain

diff artists have different approaches to how they paint but generally yes, you would start out with big shapes first and then go into the details - work big picture first. like, if you squint and the drawing makes sense in terms of value and colour and shape, youre on the right path.

i can kinda show this with a warmup in-class speedpaint exercise we did a couple weeks ago where we were tasked with painting an eye in about 30 minutes (i was late and only had 20 lol)

luckily ive got the layers for this. i start of with a base layer, kind of like a underpaint layer since that's how i personally learned to paint traditionally. i did have a sketch before laying down this base layer under it but i ended up using it for final rendering details lol

after that i started laying down the big blocks of colour. i wasn't necessarily aiming for complete colour accuracy here, i just wanted to match the value. i chose a pink underlayer to influence my colour choices because the underlayer will peak through the blocks of colour i paint over it

and then (forgive me if this seems like "draw the rest of the owl" in terms of progression) but this is where i started going in with finer detail. i did the rest of the render on the sketch layer i had so you can see some of the lines from the sketch here

here's the layers completely seperate from each other

even for the flat colour version of my character, i had an underpaint layer! i used yellow and orange since i wanted her colours to be warm and used a semi-opaque brush to put her colours in rather than using a completely opaque brush

when i wanted to do the painted version, i put the lineart on multiply and reduced the opacity and brushed in some some quick shadows on seperate layer on hard light mode to give me a good base to start painting with

and then i did all the rendering and details on a new layer ontop of everything. i keep the lineart light so i can paint over it easily and also colour pick from it when i want a more distinct line to seperate certain shapes. i unfortunately dont know how to explain this part because a lot of this is intuitive to me and i'm still learning. but you gotta make use of different types of "edges" in painting, and you would generally have more contrast in the focal point of your painting than in other places to draw the eye to that point. i suggest researching the use of edges in painting if you really wanna learn more - because im a terrible teacher haha

for fun here's what the rendering layer for this one looks like on its own and the finished thing for comparison

there's other things you need to learn too, like bounce light, atmospheric perspective, ambient occlusion... and colour theory is always important! i could go on for a long time. there's a lot of pieces to the puzzle and it may seem overwhelming but there's tons of resources online and it will all become second nature to you as you keep practicing

uhh hope that helps!

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART FIFTEEN

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: for the last day of the semester, you have to become a bearer of bad news.

wc. 4.2k

warnings: none | authors note: this is a real slow burn omg TT i gotta put you guys through a lot of yearning it’ll be all the more sweeter okay

(nowhere girl masterlist)

Dopamine levels reached a new high for you and your classmates after successfully completing the spring semester. And Yoon invited you, Mi-Cha, and her ten other friends to her family owned cafe—but you desired to go home more. You didn’t feel the thrill of walking out the doors of your campus, simply because of how mentally taxing these past few months have been.

You can finally close this chapter of your life for good but for an unusual reason, you didn’t want to. At least not yet. There’s this feeling in your chest that tells you there is something left for you to do in order to end this part of your life. You just have to figure it out first.

The cafe is packed with college students, a symphony of sighs and reliving laughter is heard at every corner. Everyone began to slow down and enjoy the rest of the evening without the rush of going home to get ready for school in the morning.

“No one is taking the drink away from you.” Mi-Cha laughs, watching amusingly how quickly you’re chugging your iced latte.

“You know I only came here because of you right?” you frown. “I just want to go home and sleep twenty four hours straight.”

“Relax you’ll go home soon. Besides, we aren’t going to see each other as often—what if this is our last time?”

You press your lips into a thin line and observe the cafe again. Yoon was by the bar, roaring with laughter amongst her friends while her parents and employees were scrambling to make drinks.

“It’s not.” you reassure, shooting your friend a smile. “We will still work together all summer, right?”

“What about that scholarship? You’re definitely going to win.” she says and you roll your eyes. “You are! Didn’t you see our co-workers faces when you showed them your final product? I bet they were envious they aren’t as skilled as you—I know I am.”

“Come on, you’re the best graphic designer in your department.” you say with a sly smirk. She lightly nudges your shin playfully. “But I think my professor is emailing us sometime today with the winning result though. He’s quick with grading.”

“Your artistic skills combined with my graphic design skills—we could seriously do some creative damage.” Mi-Cha says, grinning and sipping her drink happily. “And if you do go to Italy you have to go to Florence they have the best art supplies there. Everything there is so high quality.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Geez, now you’re getting my hopes up, Mi-Cha.”

Your eyes shift back to Yoon and your stomach churns. From someone whose life seems so perfect on the outside, it only makes sense for the universe to align Yoon to win the scholarship. It only seems right.

“Are you still planning on dorming by the way? It seems like you have your living situation all figured out.” she pipes up.

Your eyes cloud with uncertainty. “I don’t know. I guess I’m starting to get more comfortable living in my apartment but it might be more convenient for me to dorm.”

“Screw convenience—choose the one that’ll be the cheapest. Dorming will triple your tuition trust me.” she advises, snarling at the thought of her crippling student debt.

“Yeah…I don’t think I’ll want to have to work the rest of my life just to pay off all my debt. Especially now that my parents aren’t financially helping me—or helping in general.”

Mi-Cha’s eyes turn round while you take another long sip of your coffee, unaware of the pain in your friend’s eyes. It was bizarre to her how casual you mention your parent’s abandonment.

“Have they really cut you off?” she whispers and you meet each others forlorn gaze.

“They did.” you say flatly. And you feel nothing anymore at the mention of your parents. “But don’t feel bad for me. I’m doing better than I was when I was living with them.”

“Th—That’s good then…” she trails off. Trying to be selective with her words. “One day they’ll see your art work displayed permanently in Hangaram and regret ever abandoning you.”

“Yeah,” you snort. “that’ll be a nice fairytale ending.”

Grief is a great human mystery. Two weeks ago, you grieved over losing your parents as if they passed away when in reality they were only a twenty minute drive away. You were grateful school kept you busy because you were starting to think less and less of them as time went on. Selfishly, you hope that you fill their minds every waking moment of their lives.

“Guys, guys, guys!” Yoon gasps, staring at her phone screen bug-eyed. Her screeching killed the noise bouncing off the cafe walls, everyone watches her in anticipation for an announcement. You gulp, aware of what’s happening. “Oh my god—the winner is…Fuck why isn’t this email loading?”

“Watch your mouth child!” her mother hisses from behind the cafe bar.

You felt Mi-Cha reach for your sweaty palm and squeeze it as everyone held their breath waiting for her to announce the winner.

“Mom, dad we need a new internet provider!” she whines and gasps some more. Now, everyone is really getting riled up. “Oh my god it’s loaded—yes! Okay, so the winner is…let’s see…”

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Maybe Sae-byeok’s life has gotten too dull. She used to live such a fast life full of danger—but now she has forgotten what it was like to have an adrenaline rush. But you’re a close second to having that feeling back again.

She hates how you burst into her life for a split second when peril is lurking and then disappear when things start to calm down. However, this time she understands why you haven’t reached out these past two weeks. School. Sae-byeok wonders what it would be like to be a stressed out college student.

Throughout this time, Sae-byeok had a lot of time to think. Her head was foggy trying to figure out why she felt so lonely without you around. She used to be so content with being isolated from the world, but after that night she didn’t feel the same anymore.

So, she can’t make up her mind. She doesn’t want you around because all you do is disappear but she wants you to be at arms reach.

Tonight is one of those nights where Sae-byeok couldn’t stop her mind from pondering. She wonders if you finished school already, and if so, if you’ll ever stop by to see her.

The Kang siblings are sitting in their bedroom floor, with Sae-byeok hugging her knees while Cheol is across from her doing his homework. Although most of the material Cheol is learning is foreign to her, she is a little bit more advanced when in comes to writing and grammar.

Cheol huffs in frustration not being able to solve one of the questions in his homework sheet. He scratches his head and thinks hard about the question. “Noona, I don’t know what this means.” he pouts.

When she doesn’t answer, he peers up at her and frowns when he notices how spaced out she seems to be. Just staring at the ground as if Cheol isn’t here struggling.

“Hey!” he snaps his fingers in his face, though they don’t make a snapping noise but it got her attention. Sae-byeok flinches back slightly and blinks down at him. “You’re doing it again.” he whines.

“Sorry, sorry.” she says, rolling her eyes slightly. “What is it?”

“Help me with this.” he points at the last question, however she is more concerned with the amount of dried of paint covering his hand. “What are you doing?”

She takes his small hands and groans. “Your hand is covered in paint, Cheol. I told you to be careful—it’s going to be a pain in the ass to remove it now.”

“Noona’s hands are always like this but you never scold her.” Cheol retorts, his lips jutting out even more.

His words made her think back to the time you tried holding her hand. She regrets letting it go but she just wanted to remember how it felt to be under your delicate embrace again.

“Because she studies to create art—you don’t.” she says, narrowing her eyes at the sulky boy. “I bet you didn’t properly put away the supplies either.”

Cheol’s eyes grew and tries masking his nervousness with a chuckle. “I—I did put it away nicely, Noona.”

“Oh, yeah? Let me check then.” she smirks and rises from the floor to open their small closet door. Of course, she was right. “Seriously!”

“I’ll clean it up I swear just help me finish my homework.” he groans.

“I’ll be there in a second I’ll clean it myself this time. But don’t do it again.” she warns with a sigh. Cheol mutters something underneath his breath and goes back to trying to solve the work on his own.

She bends down to collect the disarray of paint brushes littered around and stores them in the small plastic containers she bought specifically to put his art supplies in. After neatly storing most of the supplies back she reaches to collect the mounds of paper stacked besides the containers—one of them piquing her interest.

This couldn’t have been Cheol’s artwork, it was too intricate and detailed—so it had to be yours. She confirms this by looking at the bottom corner of the paper and sees your name signed. Her heart lurches. She bites back the urge to ask her brother how this was in his possession and instead examines it carefully.

It was a half finished sketch of a jellyfish painted with pink watercoloring and gold ink to trace its tentacles. She wonders what your thought process must’ve been to draw a random sea creature. She likes the fact that you’re spontaneous. Instinctively, a small smile forms on her lips when she remembers the fact that you painted her for an art project.

“Noona.” Cheol’s voice snaps her back to reality.

“I’m coming.” she quickly says and shoves your drawing in with Cheol’s own work.

“It’s not that. I finished the question myself.” he snips. “But someone is knocking on the door.”

Sae-byeok winces, guilt crept up to her for being too busy ogling your art while he was behind her struggling.

She walks out the door, past the living room where Ji-yeong is currently situated in, and peers over the peephole.

“Wait did someone knock?” she hears her roommate chirp behind her. “I swear I didn’t hear anything.”

Sae-byeok was half surprised and half concerned to see you pacing around the front entrance. When she opens the door, her stomach churns—she just knows that whatever you’re here for, it’s not to see her. Something must’ve happened for you to be knocking at their door.

Your pale face, wide eyes, and slight cut on your cheek tells her enough to know that she was right. Something did happen.

“What happened to your face?” she asks breathily.

Your face morphs into confusion. Reaching to touch all over your face you end up wiping some blood streaking down your chin.

“I fell but I guess I didn’t realize I—never mind that.” you shake your thoughts off and peer over her shoulders and see Ji-yeong eating a bag of chips while watching a television show. “I need to talk to you in private.”

Sae-byeok nibbles her bottom lip nervously and nods. “Alright, we’ll go outside.”

“No, no.” you say hurriedly, your eyes frantically peering inside the apartment. “Uh…Is Cheol in your room?”

This wasn’t normal. You seemed more anxious this time. Usually, you maintained a calm and levelheaded composure when confronted with a situation. But you can’t even stand still this time. Sae-byeok grows more worried at the fact that you didn’t even realize the cut on your chin.

“What’s going on?” she asks, shakily.

Before you could answer, Ji-yeong pops up behind Sae-byeok with a lazy smile. You both stiffen up by her sudden presence beckoning your conversation.

“Hey, Ji-yeong!” you say, facading your contorted face with a tight lipped grin. You place your hand on your bleeding chin to prevent her from noticing. “How are you doing?”

“Better than ever.” she says with a sigh, leaning against the doorframe. “But my boss has been on my ass for missing those two days of work when I went to jail. So, I’m currently looking to work somewhere else.”

Your eyebrows knit together and you shoot Sae-byeok a look. “Sorry to…hear that?”

“It’s whatever.” she shrugs. “Anyway, how’s school?”

“Oh, good I’m officially on summer break now.”

“Seriously? Wait—are you still working at that gallery? I really want to go one of these—“

“Ji-yeong, we have to talk in private.” Sae-byeok finally says through gritted teeth. She raises both her eyebrows to emphasize the importance of her words and Ji-yeong just keeps flickering her eyes back and forth to both of you.

“What? The two of you?” she says, a sly cheshire cat grin forms on her lips like she knows more than what she leads on. But she slowly starts backing away, but doesn’t peer away from the door. “Sure, I’ll leave you two alone…”

Sae-byeok waits until Ji-yeong enters her room to pull you inside the apartment. She leads you to the kitchen where she goes and hands you a wet paper towel for the blood. After that she nods, signaling for you to begin talking.

You stare straight into her dilated eyes and let out a huge shaky breath of air.

“I saw Jang Deok-su barge into my apartment with his gang members. One of them was Yen-ho.” you say, barely above whisper.

Unbeknownst to her, her mouth parts slightly. Yet she could feel the dramatic pause of her heart beat. “W—What? Did they see you?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure they think you live there. They kept yelling your name.”

“Fucking hell…”

Sae-byeok leans her back on the kitchen counter and runs her hands through her hair in exasperation. Things were going too smoothly in her life, of course it was only temporary.

“You know what this means right?” you say, your eyes flickering with concern. There was a moment your hands began to twitch when you thought about reaching over to touch her shoulders assuringly. Of course, you hold back the urge. “You can’t show your face at the bakery anymore.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay—“

“No, it’s not. What if they trashed your place?” she croaks out.

Sae-byeok is now fully facing you with her heavy gaze. You were getting worried she might breakdown when you saw her bottom lip quiver ever so slightly. The past coming back to haunt her was her biggest fear, you knew that. It was at this moment that you took a deep breath to collect yourself. You couldn’t be afraid now, not when Sae-byeok is silently crying for help.

“I’m not going back there so it’s not like I’ll ever know.” you mutter. “It’s too dangerous for me to show up at my place.”

“Didn’t I tell you this would happen?” she says aggravatingly. “That you could potentially be in danger—“

“You said that about a potential lover—not me, Sae-byeok.” you correct her with a deep frown. Sae-byeok’s freckled cheeks mystically transform pink. You chew the inside of your cheek and quietly observe her more. “Let me stay here again. I will pay your end of the rent until we figure something out.”

“No!”

“Shut up!” you hiss.

Just then the sound of a door creaking open follows after Sae-byeok bellows. You move towards the corner of the kitchen, away from the sight of whoever possibly stepped outside their room.

“Noona?” Cheol whispers, voice oozing with worry.

Sae-byeok goes over to the doorframe where he is standing and bends down to meet his level. “What is it?”

“I thought you left.”

“No, of course not. I’m right here just making myself something to eat.” she reassures and lightly nudges him back inside the room. “Go back to sleep, okay? You have school in the morning.”

“Okay…” he says, raising a suspicious brow but does as he’s told nonetheless.

You fiddle with your hands waiting for Sae-byeok to reappear. Your offer was preposterous, you are aware but how could you not do this for her? The past few months, Sae-byeok quickly proved you wrong. She wasn’t just a hard-headed person with a heart of stone, you’re certain now that her love for her loved ones runs deep and quiet. You can’t just stand back and observe everything she worked hard for just crumble.

When she comes back, her expression hardens and her mouth twitches like she was ready to denounce your offer again.

“Hey, just say yes. For Cheol.” you rapidly say before she beat you to it.

Sae-byeok becomes immobile. Her eyes dance around the floor when she comes to the realization that her brother is on the line. If she can’t keep them both afloat she will have no choice but to take him back to the orphanage. And Sae-byeok doesn’t know what she will do with herself if she lets that happen. Not when she promised her little brother he’ll never go back there again.

Slowly, her eyes align back to yours with a lot less intensity in them. You both share a looking of knowing.

“Fine. For Cheol.” she finally says to you. And you couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief—the anticipation of her response was eating you alive.

The two of you eat away the silence. Sae-byeok’s mind couldn’t stop spinning while you were silently checking up on her. You open and close your mouth repeatedly, not being able to find the proper words to say to her. If you couldn’t find a way to console her, you felt useless.

“I guess I should go tell Ji-yeong you’re staying here. How ironic…”

Your eyes widen when she spoke up. She avoids your gaze and brushes past you again, leaving you standing in the kitchen dumbfounded.

With her presence being gone, the adrenaline in your body starts dissipating. Your foot starts aching from all the running you did and you can feel the sharp pain in your chin from the cut. You drag yourself to the couch and sit with the pain until Sae-byeok comes back.

When she does, she comes back with her hair tied and familiar a blanket and pillow she brought from her room. You mumble a quiet thank you when she sits beside you and passes you the things you need to rest. To your surprise, she pulls out a bandaid from her pocket and takes it upon herself to plaster it on your chin.

“S—So, what did she say?” you stammer.

“Yes, obviously.” she says with a dry chuckle. “She also said it was ironic that I asked her this time around.” she expected you to laugh or make some sort of reaction after but all you did was blankly stare down at your lap which was now covered by the blanket she gave you. “What’s with that face?”

You rub the nape of your neck and sending her a fleeting gaze. “It sucks that I can’t get my things after I just got them back. But I shouldn’t be upset over materialistic things.” you admit, bashfully.

She pauses to think about your words and holds her breath when an idea forms. “Why don’t we try and sneak to your apartment to get them?”

“That’s too dangerous. What if they’re lurking around?” you object.

“We can sneak in the middle of the day. And that’ll leave me with enough time to explain Miss Ahn why I have to quit and why you can’t live there anymore.”

She patiently waits for you to take her words into consideration. When you made your decision, you tilt your head to face her with a small smile.

“I guess that works.”

Sae-byeok nods. Her heart starts racing again, not because she’s worried out of her mind because Deok-su is on the move—she now realizes she’s alone with you again. Things have calmed down and even if it’s just for a little while and there’s no telling what tomorrow will bring, it’s only you two alone right now.

“Are you going to sleep yet?” she asks quietly.

“No, it’s still pretty early.” you hum and stare at the television screen in a bored fashion. “Can I change the channel?”

She nods silently and you shuffle through the different channels. You were certain this would be Sae-byeok’s cue to get up and walk back to her room but she stays on the couch in crisscross position. As casual as you can, you adjust yourself closer to her to throw over the blanket past her legs.

Sae-byeok remains stiff, pretending to care about whatever nonsense is playing on the television screen. She couldn’t think straight when all she wonders about is the warmth of your hands. Theoretically, it’s unlikely that you’ll pull away if she were to grab your hand seeing as last time you were the one itching to hold hers.

She slyly peers down at you, wondering if you’re actually paying attention to the television or if your mind is also only thinking of her. Your folded hands were perfectly positioned on top of your lap. You must’ve sensed her piercing dark eyes boring into you because you catch her staring. Sae-byeok goes to look at the television again, unable to breathe properly. She feels insane thinking this much over a simple gesture.

From the corner of her eyes, she sees you unfold your hands and—

“Are you comfortable? Do you want me to move back a little?”

“No.” she croaks out. This was easier to do just in her head. She used to be part of a gang and escaped North Korea for goodness sake how did she let herself get so soft?

“Okay?” you say skeptically before focusing back on the television. “Tell me if you want me to move at any point then.”

What the hell. If Deok-su is going get her one day and you will again disappear like you usually do, she has to do this before she ultimately cannot.

“…Can I just do this?” she reaches over to boldly take your hand and intertwine them with hers.

You stare at this hand held position for a minute, unable to process her odd behavior. Was she in need of comfort?

You two remain like this while pretending to be engrossed with the show that is playing. Neither of you dare to move a muscle.

For once, time favors Sae-byeok. She relishes this fleeting moment where it’s just you two alone. You allowed her to become a bit more vulnerable, thus leaving her mind at ease. Now, all she has to focus on is your delicately warm hands. She knows this is an abnormal thing for her to be doing but in this moment in time, she doesn’t care. Not when you could potentially be gone all of a sudden.

“Did you win?” she speaks up out of nowhere.

“What?”

“The art project.”

She sees you nod stiffly. It was odd.

“You’re thinking of not going.” she utters.

“It’s just—“

“You’re going. There’s no way in hell you’ll decline that great opportunity over this situation. Over—me.” Sae-byeok says to you sternly. “Promise me you’ll go.” she mutters, squeezing your hand.

“Fine. I promise.” you answer after a minute of hesitation.

“Good.” she sighs. “You should be excited.”

“I know…I’m just overthinking.” you admit.

“Overthinking what?”

You gulp and hope she didn’t hear it. “I don’t want you to forget about me. Any of you. I’ll be gone all summer so…”

Sae-byeok snorts. “That’ll be literally impossible.”

“Really? How so?”

“Uh,” she starts off. “well, Cheol always talks about you—especially when he’s drawing. Like earlier he mentioned how your hands are always stained with paint and it excuses him for having his hands also covered with paint.”

You bite back laughter but smiling was imminent. “That’s cute.”

“It’s annoying.” she rolls her eyes.

“Okay, but what if Cheol suddenly becomes disinterested in art? Will you forget me then?”

“No, I won’t forget.” she says, softly. “How could I forget someone as reckless as you?”

You raise a brow. “Reckless? How am I reckless?”

“I literally had to fight Yen-ho for you a week after knowing you.” she says, but couldn’t help but grin at how embarrassed you appear to be. “But you keep me entertained.”

You send her a dirty look and snatch your hand off her grasp. “Wow. Nice to know I’m just an entertainment to you.”

She found it amusing how hard you tried to appear offended. You go back to watching the television, but in reality, you were digesting her words.

“I know I’m not good with words but...” Sae-byeok trails off, her chest puffing up after inhaling deeply. You slowly look at her. “I’m—glad you’re a part of my life.”

You try concealing the disappointment in your face. Stupidly, you were expecting her to say something else. Instead you just smile weakly at her before glancing away. It was nice to know that she appreciates you, it must be hard for her to vocalize her feelings but you wished you were more than just a helpful friend. That is when heart drops to the pit of your stomach at the realization of something big…

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries @bitchybananaflower @laurenkenss @saebyeokbliss @everly-summers-solace @we1rdth0ughts

[yesimwriting]

I need to see some one on one bestie and Armand interactions! I bet he finds her humanity endearing even if he acts like a dick about it !! We need them bonding over art

a/n love this sm, he's so secretly invested but also so deeply unchill <3

this is the painting i reference in this fic by name, seeing it isn't necessary for you to get the fic but it's one of my favorite paintings so i thought it'd be fun to add it here :)

also i'm not saying reader has perfectly recreated a famous painting lol, it's more about the vibes/aesthetic of the painting

----

Everything passes in threes. The careful tapping of your thumb's nail against the pointer finger of your opposite hand; the way that your eyes shift between the ground, the wall, and him; even the rhythm of your heart feels like a trinity.

You're not exactly nervous, but you are tense, rigid in a way that you never are in Louis's presence.

There's something about being the source of your uneasiness, of being able to witness his presence embedding itself into your mind that's almost grounding. It's as consuming as the sense of rejection your silence is forcing onto him.

Armand shifts slightly, his hand moving away from his lap and onto the couch's cushioning. The gesture is meant to remind you of your similarities. Mortals are more eased by the small, insignificant movements than they realize. They perceive the pointless shifting of others as evidence of life, as proof of an intrinsic likeness.

The movement seems to serve its purpose, because you relax your hands, ending your three-tap pattern before allowing your arms to fall to your side. "Not being able to offer you anything to drink really has me at a loss."

The response, though cloaked in your usual humor, feels much smaller than the way you usually are. He supposes you're not the only one to blame for your uncertainty. Louis suggested that you spend an evening alone with Armand to help the two of you argue less...and apparently, Louis had warned you to be on your best behavior just as much as he had warned Armand.

Instead of pointing out the fact that you've never struggled to socialize with Louis despite being limited in the same way, he decides to reciprocate what you're giving him. "You could offer me an alternative."

Your eyebrows begin to draw together, but something about the barely there parting of your lips implies something other than surprise. If you were someone else, Armand might consider your expression a byproduct of morbid curiosity.

Your gaze flits away from him and towards the hands innocently resting on your lap. You're quick to dismiss your line of thinking, your body straightening slightly as you look at him again. "I think blood donating's more a third date kinda thing."

The framing of the sentiment, though clearly an attempt at humor, digs at him more than it should. He pushes against his instincts before responding. "Third? I didn't realize you were so easy."

You press your lips together to keep from laughing. It's an expression he's seen directed at Louis several times before. "There's a reputation." You relax slightly, your shoulders easing as you exhale. "So, what do you want to do?"

The question is a careful thing, as if you're doing all you can to make sure that what you're asking doesn't remind him of how little alone time you've spent together. He's never seen you have to think about how to connect with Louis.

When he doesn't respond, you continue, "We could go out and get some air, or we could stay here and watch something..."

You lift your hand just enough to tap your fingertips against your knee. Armand's focus moves away from you and onto the rest of your apartment. He's been here before in a variety of contexts, and he can't remember it ever seeming this organized. There are no work-in-progress pieces taking up your dining room table or paint swatches and sketches covering the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Or uh--anything you want to--"

"You've mentioned having a studio space before."

The interruption surprises you, but you're quicker to recover your expressions than you used to be. Perhaps it's the constant awareness of the fact that you're thoughts are nowhere near as private as you once believed. You nod once. "Yeah, it's the room just past the kitchen."

He turns his head enough to look at you again. "Can I see it?"

Your breathing falters, the air in your lungs stalling so briefly it would have likely gone unnoticed if Armand had been any less determined to take in your reaction. You've mentioned your studio space without being prompted before, but always with a certain level of guardedness.

"Okay," and then, as if realizing the smallness of your response, you tack on a much more definitive, "Yeah, sure."

You're quick to commit to your promise, looking away from him before moving to stand. Armand follows, making a point to remain a full pace behind you as you move through your living room and past your kitchen. You lead him down a short hallway.

You don't stall until you're in front of a door. "I uh--" Your mind is wracked with a flighty nervousness. "Just keep in mind, everything in here's a work in progress."

There's a vulnerability pressed into the syllables that's nearly enough to soften you. So often, your existence feels like a force capable of rivaling the sun. Now, though, thinking about what you've created and how he might perceive these extensions of your being, you seem...reachable. Much less like the first few rays of sunlight bleeding over the horizon at daybreak, and more like a girl of your age.

This version of you must be closer to what Louis sees when he looks at you. Perhaps the instinct that encourages his companion to keep him away from you isn't entirely wrong.

"I understand." His voice is devoid of sentimentality.

You don't seem put off by his blankness. If anything, his limited interest makes it a little easier for you to reach for the door's brass handle. You push open the door. Armand enters the space first.

The room is what's expected--a space absolutely brimming with life. A large worktable covered in sketches and small canvases takes up most of the room's center. Shelves and cabinets line the room's back wall. There are several incomplete works throughout the space, a few paintings propped up against walls and more textured pieces resting against any available flat surfaces, but none draw his focus like what's sitting on your easel.

The painting is familiar in a way that practically makes something inside of him ache.

"It's oil instead of acrylic," your explanation is careful, almost shy. "I'm trying something. The drying between layers is almost impossible, but I like the blending."

Trying something. This isn't even your perferred medium and you've stumbled onto something sharp and moving. It's still unfinished, and he can already tell that the woman you've depicted reading by candlelight is reminiscent of a time outside of your own.

"It's familiar," the reaction feels like a confession. He presses his lips together, a part of him relieved by the fact that you're a few paces behind him. "The lighting--it's similar to Georges de La Tour."

"Really?" You're more enthusiastic than you want to be. "Magdalene with Two Flames was one of my reference photos."

Of course it was. Leave it to you to be capable of accurately mimicking your influences.

You walk forward, stopping once you've reached his side. "This is the first time that someone that doesn't particularly care about my feelings is seeing it, so you can be as honest as you want."

Armand has to work at keeping his expression neutral. It's not enough to be the gifted artist that's sensitive about their work, you also have to be gratingly humble.

He keeps his gaze focused on the painting as he speaks, "You'd be more tolerable if you were less talented." Your skin flushes, blood pulling itself up your neck. "I don't mean it as a compliment."

"I know." Armand can feel how much you mean the response. "I think that's why I liked hearing it."

Something uneasy settles in his chest. You smile at him, your eyes bright and teasing like the both of you are now in on some joke together. "Searching for punishment?"

You straighten slightly, head turning away from him and towards your painting. "Searching for honesty." You're focusing on your work, on separating yourself from personal sentiment. "Though, I guess, sometimes that's the same thing."

There's nothing shocking about your prioritization of honesty. Mortals like to think that candor means something to them, that having the reality of a situation presented to them openly makes things easier. Your kind is much more protected by their obliviousness than they realize, but he's willing to humor you. "It's familiar in other ways, as well."

You're slower to understand his implication than you usually are. Armand can't quite bring himself to fault you for it. You're detached from what he and Louis are.

He turns his head slightly, allowing himself to watch you from his peripheral vision. Louis is committed to shielding you, to masking their differences from you as best as he can. You're not used to being reminded of the eternity they're meant to have.

You blink, your eyebrows briefly pinching together. "Right," this is mumbled more to yourself than to him, "...Because you would have been around when things were like this." You sit with the reminder for another moment before finally turning towards him, "Would it be really lame if I asked what it was like?"

There's a carefulness to your curiosity, a hesitation behind your interest. Your restraint is primarily rooted in how little time the two of you have spent like this, but there's something else behind your uncertainty. Louis loves you the way one loves a childhood blanket that's at risk of becoming threadbare. He doesn't want to lose you to his nature, so he does what he can to pretend it doesn't exist. But you're nowhere near as uninterested in vampirism as Louis would like you to be.

Perhaps this is the only thing that Louis isn't willing to give you himself. "Not really lame." The corner of your mouth tugs itself upwards at the opening. "As I'm sure you know, it was a time of great, artistic flourishing..."

He stops, his mind latching onto aspects of his reminiscence with a vengeful sharpness. A gifted young artist desired by vampires for their beauty and talent.

His unexpected silence forces your thoughts away from curiosity and towards something much more akin to worry. "It was also a time of great brutality."

You're quiet for a stretch of time that feels much more significant than it is. "I'm sorry."

He isn't sure if the apology is an attempt at expressing generalized sympathy or if you're feeling guilty for asking the question in the first place, and he can't bring himself to examine your thoughts for clarity. It should bother him either way. Your presence is enough to agitate the part of himself still susceptible to this kind of vulnerability, he doesn't need to add to that--not so openly, not with you right next to him.

Your proximity is a source of discomfort that's much easier to focus on. You are, by far, the gentlest of his afflictions. For once, he permits himself to lean into the warmth of this uneasiness, his hand extending towards you. He keeps his attention focused on the painting as he takes your hand.

Your shock is enough to briefly amplify your thoughts as an anxious warmth begins to crawl up your neck. The initial surprise quickly fades into a dismissible mental static, leaving a marginal concern in its wake. He presses into your thoughts. You're slightly worried over his shift in demeanor, and you feel a little out of your element, but you're not uncomfortable.

When no other sudden movements pass, you drag your thumb along his knuckles. The heat of your skin amplifies the gesture's soothingness.

He allows the silence to linger for another minute before breaking it, "What are you going to do with the painting once it's finished?"

The question seems to throw you more than the position that you're in. "I don't know, it doesn't really fit into the collection I'm working on." You pause, thinking through your answer. "Maybe I'll hold onto it...or send it to my mom. It seems like something she'd like."

Armand nods once. "Would you consider selling it to me?"

Your nervous warmth returns, blood shifting beneath your skin. "If you want it, you can just have it."

This is an argument that he knows you're familiar with. You're always resisting Louis's attempts at offering you anything you deem expensive, even if it's a payment for something you've made.

"You're an artist," he begins slowly, "You should be paid for your work."

You're not impressed by his logic. "Yeah, but we're friends."

"Are we?"

You weren't expecting an argument. "I think so."

There's a genuineness to your response that's almost hard to bare. Perhaps the financial argument could be reserved for another time, or maybe it'd be easier to gift you something instead. It's a strategy that Louis's used before. "Do you want to watch one of those shows you and Louis are always talking about?"

The question makes you grin. "Yeah." You turn away from the painting without letting go of his hand, pulling him towards the door. "I'm ruling out reality TV, because I don't want to lower your opinion on humanity any further."

"How kind."

You look back at him, smiling, "I'm very altruistic."

----

The television provides a comfortable background, the TV show you put on serving as both a source of sound and light. It also helps that this is a method of bonding you're familiar with.

As far as artistic merit, the show you were so excited to show him isn't exactly life changing, but he's experienced worse evenings than this one.

One of the main characters on the screen accidentally comes across an incriminating note that the audience learned about in the first episode. It's an incredibly predictable twist, but you're studying his reaction like there's something life changing about this revelation.

"This isn't realistic."

The comment makes you sigh. "It's not meant to be realistic, it's meant to be entertaining."

Armand instinctually turns his head towards you. The passive aggressive response he was ready to offer you feels a lot less significant now. You're close, closer than he's used to you being. Maybe there is something entertaining about this.

"It's inconceivable for this many things to be happening on the same street." The words leave him much slower than he meant for them to.

You don't notice his lap, your gaze briefly shifting away from him and onto the screen. "I'm sorry, supernatural being, are the events taking place on Wisteria Lane inconceivable to you?"

It's a relatively fair point, but he has no interest in letting you know that. "But it's not about the supernatural, it's about reality."

His phrasing seems to stand out to you. Instead of attempting to counter his response, you tilt your head slightly before relaxing against the couch's cushioning.

"I don't know," you whisper, the words soft in their distance. You ease further, your head shifting towards him until your temple is resting against his shoulder. The warmth of your skin burns through the thin layer of fabric dividing the two of you. He cannot bring himself to move. "You seem real to me."

He wouldn't put it past you to be able to speak him into existence. Armand turns his hand over carefully, his fingers intertwining themselves with yours.

----

chat does hand holding warrant a content warning

[novankenn]

Infatuated by a Golden Sun

(From Assassin to Sales Clerk AU)

Blake leaned against the counter. A dopey smile on her face as Yang, a young women who was once the focus of a contract regaled her with... something. She was sure there was a reason or moral to whatever Yang was telling her. Maybe important information?

But Blake couldn't focus. She was lost in Yang's iridescent violet eyes. So enraptured with just looking at Yang she didn't even notice Deery entering the Pumpkin Pete's Novelty Store for her shift. Under normal circumstances Blake would be trying to figure out HOW Deery was always able to get in and out of the store without even the greeting chime going off.

"P-Money is like total kick ass!" Yang gushed. "I mean she took an arrow... a FREAKING arrow to the shoulder and didn't scream or cry. Like she is mega-tough!"

"Yep." Blake commented, having only heard Yang's nickname for Pyrrha. The rest just flew over her head.

"Oh you should see this video Jaune sent me!" Yang merrily continued to prattle on as she dug in her pocket for her scroll. "It's like totally cute!"

"Okay." Blake responded, all the while images of them walking through the park and sharing a kiss near that historical water fountain played in her mind.

"Just a sec... here it is! See?" Yang turned her scroll about after spending a few moments to locate this special video. "What do you make of that? She's too adorable!"

"That's a SECONDHAND KISS!" Blake shouted her amber eyes wide in surprise.

"I know, right." Yang agreed. "But P-Money is so denying it. Jaune is too, but you know how oblivious Jaune is. Am I right?"

Blake grew instantly alert as Yang's entire body suddenly became ridged and tense. It was at that second she felt... her prescience. Blake flinched and involuntarily stood up straight.

"If you have time to chat with your girlfriend... you have time to do inventory." Deery's soft voice floated to Blake's ears from behind. "Maybe Ms Xiao Long would like to assist?"

"Um... I'm sorry..."

"That's a pity." Deery responded as she took a place next to Blake at the counter. "The sooner inventory gets done, the sooner Blake can leave for the day."

"Really?" Blake asked. Excitement filling her voice as images of that walk in the park reappeared.

"I would, Kitty-Kat but I promised Jaune to drop by and go over some homework for Professor Goodwitch's Pre-Calculus course." Yang apologized, a sad smile crossing her features. "She's a slave driver, but Jaune and I both need the course to graduate and have a chance at Attending Beacon University."

"Wait, I thought you were already at Beacon?" Blake asked.

"The Academy. It's a prep school for the university."

"I knew that." Deery quipped shooting Blake a wiry smile. Blake wasn't surprised that Deery did know that. The things Deery knew and Blake didn't could fill a library.

"I can help tomorrow, if you want?" Yang offered.

"I can't ask you..."

"You're hired." Deery cut Blake off. "Be here at 10 am. Understood?"

"Yes, mam." Yang replied.

"That will give Blake time to prep the Inventory Scanners."

"IS it, alright for you to just hire people like that?" Blake asked a little stunned. "I thought Bob was in charge of..."

"I have the right to hire casual labor for things like Inventory... BUT if Yang would like to work WITH you... she'll have to talk to Bob."

"You mean that's possible?" Blake asked suddenly very interested in the chance to have more time with Yang.

"As much fun as that sounds. I have a shift at my Dad's Dojo later tonight." Yang smiled sheepishly. "The front desk doesn't take care of itself... and Ruby needs time for some school club or something."

"Damn it." Blake and Deery both cursed in unison.

Yang waved and Blake waved in return, a content sigh escaping her lips.

(A/N - HUGE THANKS to @pilot-boi for another excellent and beautiful art piece for this crazy AU that she inspired!)

[scimagic]

MAAAAAN I KEEP SEEING EDITS OF MY ART ON TIKTOK AND THEY'RE MAKING ME CRYYYYY

[tubbytarchia]

got an urge to design ponies oops

[jojo-schmo]

I'm updating my personal ref sheets and it's really hitting me just how SMOL Kirby, Bandee, and Elfilis really are compared to the rest of the cast.

[ratislatis]

I'll find you. Wait for me.

hee hee hoo hoo AUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH PAIN PAIN SUFFERING PAIN IN ALL DIRECTIONS!!!! TO HELL WITH IT (LITERALLY)!!!!!!!!!

[sysig]

Maybe requestober prompt of soft?

Day 5 - Pile o' plushies

[xxplastic-cubexx]

BIRTHDAY HAUL courtesy of a very lovely friend of mine 🥺

bonus goofy pics of a bday snack i had earlier with my favorite menace …..

[moe-broey]

Fellas can you take this somewhere else. Maybe. Just not in the fucking halls. Thanks 🫡

I couldn't resist drawing out these tags I wrote on a dif post LMFAO

Moe just has...... SO many problems.......

Close-ups of my fave shots!

The elusive Líf...