#neat thought exercise!

[mangle-my-mind]

writing patterns

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Thanks @autumnsup for tagging me! I'm gonna tag @silverfactory @holy-loki @thomtrebond and anyone else who wants to give this a go.

I only have 7 posted fics, but that should be enough to notice patterns, right?

"'Piss off, then! Go on! Back to your wolves! Your junkie twerps! Your bloody shock treatment! And fuck you too!"' - In Berlin (lol, just a quote from Velvet Goldmine)

"For anyone who came for the first time, this back room was always a disappointment." - Live, No Matter How Many Skies Have Fallen

"It's the little differences that make today seem special. Really, if one doesn't think about it for more than a millisecond, it's just another Wednesday, isn't it?" - Toss Me the Time, Lay Me You're Mine

"I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end,/ But I do not talk of the beginning or the end." - To Dash Reckless and Dangerous (a Leaves of Grass excerpt)

"The Palm Court’s open and airy and decadent, and stuck in time." - Borne Back Ceaselessly

"Curt’s a fiend for TV. That’s one of the many things Arthur’s learned about him over the past few months." - These Vintage Years

"Curt wakes up with someone else in his bed for the third day straight." - Your Eyes to the Ground and the World Spinning Round Forever

Hmmm okay so there are two instances where I started with quotes, but one was sorta diegetic to the story and one was more of a mood-setter that reoccurs throughout the work. Aside from that, I think I like my opening lines to be a little open-ended, or lead to questions, which would (ideally) hook a reader in. #2 - why is this room a disappointment? Where are we, anyway? #3 - what does make today special? #5 - what do you mean, stuck in time? This description starts so positive and then gets interjected - what does it mean? #6 - what else has Arthur learned about Curt? #7 - who's in Curt's bed? I don't know how effective these efforts have been, but it seems to be something I consistently do.

[momochizoey]

January 3rd

-Crack!-

“Adora!”

Catra dashed across the soccer field as the referee blew their whistle, coming to a stop in front of her balled up girlfriend.

She looked her over and grimaced. Adora’s right ankle was bent unnaturally, broken from the force with which she slammed into the goalposts. That was gonna be a hospital visit for sure, and knowing Adora she would be stressing about how the recovery was going to impact her study schedule within the hour.

She murmured reassurances as she cradled her head, until the medics rushed in to move her to the stretcher, at which point she squeezed Adora’s hand and reluctantly let go, racing towards the changing rooms.

She quickly grabbed Adora’s Greyskull bag, checking if it had everything, or if she’d have to drop by their apartment later.

‘Clothes, check, estradiol, check, planner, check, Gideon the Ninth to distract herself, check. Alright, go-time.’

Slamming the door behind her and scattering two of their concerned teammates, she jumped into the back of the ambulance just before the doors closed.

Before one of the medics could argue, Adora latched onto her hand with a vice-grip.

“Please don’t leave again,” she pleaded.

“Never.”

[navree]

Does Daemon wants to fuck Viserys??? And that's all ryan could come up with? The reason of Daemon's actions it's because he has a boner for Vissy..?

The thing is, I don't remember exactly what Ryan said but he didn't say much on it so his reasoning is a bit Open To Interpretation. The way I understood it is that a lot of what motivates Daemon's desire for Rhaenyra specifically, particularly once she's a bit older and he's been pushed much further down the line of succession by Alicent's children, is that he does, on some level, desire Viserys, and views her primarily as an extension of Viserys, and her interest in him as Viserys wanting him and valuing him more than he thinks Viserys does. It's the motivation for his pursuit of Rhaenyra that changes, not all his other actions wrt things like the Stepstones or Laena or his daughters or the succession, or his general bloodthirstiness.

And truthfully, I think that's an incredibly interesting tract for Daemon as a character. I know people weren't into it because it seemed kind of out of the blue and the Daemyra shippers were up in arms (no shade, nothing worse than a writer seeming to belittle your ship when you're really into it, I get y'all), but as someone who's, like, not really into Daemon at all except for the little moments that Matt Smith tries to add in where he can, it's very fascinating. Daemon's mother Alyssa died when he was three, and we don't know how present, if at all, Baelon was in the upbringing of his sons, giving Westeros customs and gender norms, not to mention that Baelon became heir to the throne and thus Prince of Dragonstone when Daemon was only ten. So the person Daemon was likely closest to, the person he looked to almost as a parental figure, was Viserys. Viserys occupies a role not just as an elder sibling to Daemon, but also as a parent, in a way, and as they're the only siblings they have, they were likely incredibly close. The book doesn't say anything about it, but in the show, Daemon's also written to be bisexual,, and given that Targaryens aren't raised to socialize with their siblings as siblings, but rather as prospective romantic and sexual partners, Daemon likely viewed Viserys as much through a sexual lens as a parental/brotherly one, made only worse by the knowledge that, if Daemon had been born a woman, he likely would have been chosen as Viserys's wife. So you've got this situation of someone who can feel same sex attraction without any of the hurdles of, like, incest is wrong, with a lot of issues of transference and some psychosexual hangups due lost and distant parental figures, and it does make sense that at some point Daemon loved Viserys as more than a brother, desired him as something more than a brother, and that Viserys became the one thing he couldn't have.

We also know that Daemon has a severe chip on his shoulder about the fact that, specifically, Viserys does not appear to want him around. He says as much in episode one, he views his marriage to Rhea not as a way to shore up alliances, but as a way for Viserys to get him out of his hair, that Viserys doesn't want him around him but all the way in the Vale with someone else (and also someone lesser, as if Daemon isn't worthy of Viserys, or any Valyrian bride, given that he's also a clear Targ supremacist on top of all his other stuff). He views any promotions he gets as further evidence that Viserys doesn't want him, that Viserys is shunting him off to the Treasury or to the City Watch because he doesn't want him, as he said, by his side. He doesn't realize that he's not the Hand because the Hand is a political job for a politician who can think politically and understand the politics of the realm, and that he has the political acumen of a blueberry bush, he views it as Viserys not wanting him around, not wanting him as his right hand, not trusting him or wanting him at all. As much as he wants the crown and thinks he should be king because he's better at it and it's his right according to Westerosi law while Viserys only has a daughter, he also just wants Viserys to want him back, in any way, and he feels like he's consistently getting proof that Viserys doesn't. It's hinted at that, even beyond the stunt on Dragonstone to get Viserys's attention, a lot of Daemon's military exploits in the Stepstones are motivated by wanting Viserys to notice him, to acknowledge him, and the reason he gets mad about Viserys's attempt to offer aid is because he views it as Viserys saying "you're not good enough". It's why he doesn't have any issue in giving up his role as King of the Narrow Sea and why he immediately goes into "poor little meow meow forehead touchy touch" mode the second Viserys welcomes him back with open arms. It's why, as he grows bitter and more jaded with his age, he lashes out primarily at Viserys on Driftmark, it's why he's so visibly discomfited by Viserys ailments in episode 8 and why he's so immediately willing to help him in spite of all their history in the throne room, it's probably why he's so immediately certain Viserys was killed despite the man actively rotting before his very eyes, because he can't logically comprehend a world without Viserys in it.

And so with all of that, the idea that Daemon saw Rhaenyra as the socially acceptable option, a Targaryen woman who also clearly wants him back, and who can offer him power to boot (along with his admittedly gross preference for young girls my God Daemon) and immediately latched onto her as the next best thing works. He sees Rhaenyra as someone that he could have been, Viserys's heir and someone Viserys loves and accepts and wants around him. But he also sees her as a version of Viserys, a more malleable version of Viserys and still someone that has a part of Viserys in her, and again, most crucially, a version/extension of Viserys that wants him back. That probably wants him more, who is the one actively seeking him out this time and desiring him, when Viserys would have never done, and never, in fact, did that. And once he and Rhaenyra are older, and once it seems his relationship with Viserys is just permanently damaged, then why not go for the next best thing, someone who's basically a part of Viserys's body and who reciprocates what he's offering, who might actually feel it more. It's not necessarily that there are no reasons for him to want/be in love with Rhaenyra on her own merits, those merits are likely there (I'm not a Daemyra shipper but I'm trying to be objective right now), it's that a huge part of WHY he was willing to go there, and continue going there, and was even interested at all, was because of loving Viserys and wanting Viserys to love him back.

A Daemon that wants Viserys, that lusted for and loved and pined after Viserys in a way that was never going to be returned is a boy wanting acceptance and love from a father or mother, a man who wants to stay by his brother's side, a lover who knows that it's always going to be one sided. And that's actually a facet of the character that can be extraordinarily interesting when merged with all the other fun potential for him and the kind of man he is.

[space-writes]

Happy WBW!

Tell me about scams in the Renegade Prince setting! What are the typical cons, who do they target, who can see through them?

Do you have people turning up at House Everent pretending to be Lucian?😉

ohhh this is a good one!

I don't have anything really worked out for Naazgaran scams, but now that you've said it, there probably would be people who tried to fake being Lucian, cause no-one's ever seen him. That almost certainly wouldn't end well.

HOWEVER. Aliyne and Zander (before they broke up) were running a scam whilst they were dating. It wasn't complicated, it just consisted of:

Zander using bardic magic to charm an entire tavern

Aliyne picking everyone's pockets

Both of them leaving before anyone realised what happened

It worked because bardic magic is so rare, most people don't recognise it when they see it. So everyone mostly just thinks Zander's a really good singer. (he is a good singer, but he's not that charming)

Other cons probably include things like counterfeit unicorn parts. They're a main export/the Main Thing Invereid is known for, so fake ones probably proliferate, with people trying to pass off lesser items as Real Inverein Unicorn Bits. Those who actually trade in them would catch on to that pretty quick.

[pomegranate]

FOR THE SHIP GAME, a traphawk curveball: 24, 28 (oww), 29!

HIIII REMY ooh Traphawk!!! Lemme see …

24. What are their favourite places to kiss on their partner? What are their favourite types of kisses?

Hawkeye looooves to kiss a neck. We see it with nurses in the show but I think he’d go wild on Trapper’s neck too, nibbling and gnawing on it, and on his clavicle and shoulders. Trapper’s got nice shoulders! As for Trapper, maybe this is boring but he loves kissing Hawkeye on the lips, getting him to be quiet, Hawkeye moaning into his mouth, etc. Their favourite types of kisses would probably be in the middle of sex, really sort of messy and passionate, very raw and emotional kissing.

28. What’s something that reminds them of their partner? Do they have anything daily on them as a reminder?

WELL this is gonna be sad but when they’re together, they don’t need anything to remind each other of the other because they’re constantly together! But when Trapper goes home, I think maybe he stole a pair of Hawkeye’s socks. Sock meta, y’know? He would also think of Hawkeye every time he looked at the news and saw anything about the war. I sometimes wonder if he saw the documentary when it aired ….. gah

Hawkeye didn’t get a note, but I think maybe Trapper left one of his Hawaiian shirts and he keeps that at the bottom of his footlocker. He looks at it when he needs a reminder of why he shouldn’t be falling in love with a married man again. 🥲

29. What’s something they can never agree on? How do they meet in the middle?

We don’t see Hawkeye and Trapper disagreeing very often in the show (part of why I find them somewhat less compelling as a ship tbh) but I think maybe their tastes in books or movies might be pretty different. I also think they might not always agree on cuisines BUT I do think Trapper would be open to trying new things (more often than Hawkeye, at least) and he begrudgingly would admit that Hawkeye introduces him to a lot of things he might not have assumed he’d like.

[o-wyrmlight]

List of things I want:

Just Dance (Switch)

That one game for the Switch with the ring

Stickers for my water bottle

New laptop and new desktop computer

Colored CALLIGRAPHY ink

A hamster

A fish

A bird

A 'new' car (used or new)

A nice day out on the town

Indoor plants

Things I need:

None of that

[nocturnowlette]

If you wanna feel like a puppy for a bit, read this. Trust me.

Hello. There's a fun little visualization and focus exercise you can do to feel a bit more fluffy/fuzzy for a bit, if you'd like to follow along, but read slowly and in a private environment (preferably lying down). Focus on my words and read them carefully, as if you're listening to someone speak them.

In fact, I'd like to teach you something neat about focus.

Us creatures have quite a powerful sense of focus, however, most of the time, it's distributed to everything around us at once. We need to focus on our surroundings, our task in front of us, the music we're listening to, the senses we're feeling, and on and on. However, there are times where our focus gets directed entirely on just one thing.

Most of the time, the word we have for this is "immersion". Those times where everything around you seems to disappear and you find yourself lost in some world. In those moments, nearly your entire mind is focused on just one thing. As a result, you feel the things you're immersed into quite strongly.

Focus on your right hand. See how easy that is? Suddenly, you can isolate that specific part of your body very, very easily.

Focus on your left foot.

Your neck.

Your hair.

Your left forearm.

Both of your calves.

All of your fingers and toes.

Now just your pinky fingers.

Not only is our focus quite powerful, but it can be directed, not just you, but by others. This is a concept used in many things, but among them is meditation, guided meditation, hypnosis, and self-hypnosis.

What you may find interesting about hypnosis, specifically, is that one of the best ways to direct that focus is through visualization.

Focus on your head.

Now your forehead.

Now your brain.

Your brain is where the magic happens. If you read my words, and if you focus on your mind, you might find that it's hard to think your own thoughts while you're reading something. I've been guiding your focus for so long already that it is very, very easy to focus on my words.

With this newfound focus, it's quite easy to let my words relax you. Let's, for example, imagine that your body is turning into liquid.

Focus on your feet and calves.

You notice that they feel quite tired. They're so used to being flexed, being tense, but you have no need for that right now. Focus on the muscles in your calves. Feel them melt, a bit. So long as you're following what I say, you're doing it correctly. The tension you are so used to easily relaxes, and relaxes, and relaxes. It melts more and more.

Focus on your thighs.

The liquid seems to be spreading upwards. Your thighs relax effortlessly. They melt, and melt, and melt. So effortless.

With every bit of tension that disappears, feel your focus on my words only get more intense.

Focus on your hips, and stomach. They relax even easier than your legs. They melt so easily.

The feeling spreads up through your chest to your shoulders. They melt so easily. Like gravity is simply pulling all of the tension right out.

Every part of your mind and body is directed to me.

The feeling spreads to your arms, normally so active. Its so tiring to move them around all day. Feel them melt for me. Everything below the neck is turning into a melted, gooey mass.

Focus on your hands. You will need these to scroll. They move automatically whenever you need to scroll further, and every time you do so is just more proof that you want to focus on my words.

You only get more and more fixated on my every word.

All of this focus can be a lot for your brain to handle. Your brain feels dense, heavy from all of your focus being pushed up, up to the top of your body. Don't you feel so heavy? You'll find that you can hardly keep your head up the more you read, holding it just high enough to keep reading. It's all you want to do right now. Your focus is mine.

With all this pressure on your brain, it may start to feel very, very tired. Being so, so focused on me is a lot on your mind. You might feel that liquid creep up, up into your head. It rises up through the neck, up through the bottom of your skull, filling higher and higher and higher, up up and up until it has finally filled your skull completely, It's surrounding your mind.

Focus even more on my words.

This liquid seems to melt everything it touches. Normally, your mind would be strong enough to protect itself, but it seems too preoccupied on me. The liquid starts to find it's way in.

You feel your mind begin to melt.

The walls of your brain soften, the wrinkles so easily disappearing. The liquid seeps in through every tiny crack, and your brain gets heavier and heavier. So heavy. Your thoughts can't seem to stay together. Some try to pop up, but they're already surrounded. They melt so easily. All of your thoughts melt so easily.

Feel your mind melt more and more.

Focus on how hard it is to think.

Focus on how heavy you feel.

Focus on my every word completely and absolutely.

The next time I say the word "Melt", your mind will be completely gone. Your heaviness will double, and your focus will grow even stronger. Your entire being will devote itself to my words.

Mind collapsing,

filling with liquid,

thoughts disappearing,

nothing left,

Melt.

...

This is a mental state called trance. It feels nice, doesn't it? So hard to think. You don't want to think. So dumb. You love that.

You began reading this to be a puppy, a dumb little puppy. That's adorable.

Bark for me, in your head or out loud.

Good puppy.

You were so eager to feel this way, so fuzzyminded. Your brain is just a big pile of fuzz, just like the rest of you. Too fuzzy to think anything but puppy thoughts.

Bark again.

Good puppy.

Every time you bark, your mind just gets fuzzier and happier.

Bark.

Good puppy.

Every time you're told "Good puppy." you feel so happy, so so happy that you're following orders. Every time you hear it, you feel your ears perk up and feel so, so happy and so, so dumb.

It can be from me, from your owner, or from anyone you trust.

Bark.

Good puppy.

And just like that, you're trained.

Bark.

Good puppy.

You just wanna bark your mind away.

Bark.

Bark.

Bark.

Good puppy.

Good puppies follow orders from their owners. it's what puppies do. You want to be a Good Puppy, right? Of course you do.

Bark your mind away.

Good puppy.

...

I will bring you back up from trance in a moment, but you are allowed to stop reading here for as long as you wish. You can leave here and will eventually rise out of trance, but slowly. You'll feel happy and very very dumb. If you have an owner, you'll message them and act like the cute puppy you are. Or, you can just lie down and live in this feeling. Once you're ready to come back up, read ahead.

...

Focus is quite easy to return to normal. In fact, it's natural. I will count up from the numbers 1 to 10, and return every bit of your mind and body back to you. Once I say "Wake Up", you will feel completely returned to normal. Let's begin.

1.

Feel your brain begin to reform, thoughts becoming possible again.

2.

Feel your mind solidify, able to think now, but finding it very hard.

3.

Feel your body start to solidify again, feeling your muscles return to normal.

4.

The liquid drains out of your mind, giving your thoughts some room to breathe and connect, and making your brain feel lighter.

5.

You find it easy to move your legs again. Move them.

6.

You find it even easier to move your stomach, chest, and shoulders.

7.

You're becoming more and more aware of your surroundings.

8.

Your arms become easy and light to move.

9.

Mind speeding up, up, and up. Feeling happy and refreshed. Your head becoming so, so light.

10.

Wake up.

...

Welcome back. I hope that was both fun and informative. This was a bit of an experiment, so I am genuinely curious if it was effective. If it's not too much to ask, perhaps reblog this with a comment on how it felt. Or just bark, puppy. I'd be happy either way.

I do hypnosis stuff, puppy stuff, and anything else I wish. Follow if you're interested.

Regardless, have a nice day.

Update: I have two new scripts currently.

If you want to enter a Puppy Mindset whenever you wish, read this post. I assure you that it's worth it.

If you wanna fall into a puppy mind space much, much easier from now (especially to me), read this post.

Enjoy~

[rachreads]

got a jan tangled!au bouncing around my head for the past week thanks to that lovely moodboard that @lafemmedezemo made forever ago here that’s just kinda lived in my brain rent free for almost a year.

a shame i cannot write for shit, just gotta think about it real hard and be content with that ig. or just rewatch edukators/tangled again. :P 

[artfromsaturn]

Collection of Free Art Tutorials

I don't usually make text post on this blog, but a nice artist I know was asking for tutorials a while back and I forgot to send some to them while in school. So here's a post on it since it's easiest to grab and go this way. :)

This list focuses on the basics. I'm focusing on the foundations of art, so medium is generally irrelevant and you can use physical or digital with these. You'll have to google more specific tutorials on things like character design and such.

One of the biggest pieces of advice I can give to you is strangely, introduce things to yourself one at a time. In art class, we took whole topics week by week. For high school, we did a few exercises then spent a week drawing/painting and doing your piece(s). For basic art 1 & 2 in college, we did 1-2 exercises and then did 1-2 drawings, followed by HW (which we turned in next week) and sketchbook practice (which she'd check at midpoints). For basic art lessons with a tutor, we did practice then our own art. You can see the pattern here - the point is don't be distressed if you don't get everything at once, or the lesson in 2 weeks, or the lesson in 3 years - we practice and do a lot over time, and you'll pick up on things you need to improve naturally and through help with others. Take time to be proud of your art in mini steps too, even if it's not the best! You tried and attempting to climb an obstacle over and over again before finally leapfrogging it is still progress to it.

Overall tutorials:

DrawABox.com is a site that's dedicated to art exercises and practicing when you can. They talk about the basics of art as well as how practice is important. It can get tough at times and it's ok to stop and do a balance of say those practices and doodles if you choose to try and do all of it's stuff - but you don't have to either. It's just a nice basic education done by some art nerds who like going hard.

Ethering Brothers - these guys are famous for their 40billion tutorials. If you need help on a specific idea, search their gallery and you'll likely find something.

Thundercluck's Art Fundamentals - She did a good huge ass tutorials on how things work, and it's the least overwhelming of the 3 I got in this section, so I suggest it as one of the first to look at for digital stuff.

Art Instructions Blog - Another good & simpler website that goes great into fundamentals. They focus more on traditional art but if you're digital, you can replicate most of the techniques - art fundamentals and subjects cover all mediums. Very important

Drawsh - Particularly notes on Construction: construction is the basics of building an illusion of a 3D image on a page. Figuring out how to build shape gives depth to your work, and learning how to see in 3D lets you be able to draw an item then move it around in your head (sometimes, when you're good enough, don't be afraid to pull out a reference or use live subjects). Construction is how to figure out the foundation of your drawing, and good planning = better picture! This link starts at the back, hit newer post to go forward.

There's a lot on anatomy and other nitty gritty details for when you want to practice those as well.

Griz and Norm's Assorted tips - Long time artist talk about various tips and tricks they use in art and how to avoid certain pitfalls. It's eclectic but great to look through.

James Gurney's Blog - He's got a lot of thoughts, a lot of tips, and a lot of adventures he catalogues. It's the least organized out of these but fortunately he has plenty of tags and most post have something neat going on. He's fantastic!🥰

BEFORE ALL OTHER BASICS….

How to Make Your Art Look Nice: Mindset

There's a lot of artist with different perspectives on how to approach art and your mindset while doing it, but the general consensus is that it's a process and sometimes you have to remind yourself to enjoy art!

Line

How to draw straight lines without a ruler. …but for the love of all that's good do NOT feel bad about using one! This talks about how to hold your pencil and how to do some good freehand stuff, some good practice.

5 grips for holding a Pencil for Drawing - This goes for pencil, pen, tablet, etc.. Get comfortable and figure out what's right for you and your pictures. I'd like to note that paintbrush holding will overlap, but some will differ.

A few line drawing exercises that help with line confidence.

Types of line drawings & what they are.

Contour Line & exercises with Mrs. Cook - Contour lines are one of the first art exercises I do in all the drawing classes I've taken. The good news is that they're surprisingly fun & look neat, even the blind contours!

Good deep thoughts on lines and how to use them.

Line Weight Tutorial

Lineart Weight Tips!

How to show variation in your line art: part 1 & part 2.

Some teacher's Drawing 1 & 2 lessons put online.

Light, Shadow, & Value

An introduction to tonal values.

Why values are important. The main reasons are that they give depth to a piece, and values literally shape our world.

Tonal Values: Everything you need to know

How does light work & the basics on Light

Light & Shadow in Art - much more in depth of the above! Highly recommended if you have time to spare.

Understanding grayscale/monochrome art. Great for shading & planning.

A guide to Cross Hatching (and hatching in general) - As a side note, crosshatching is one of the early things taught as it marries Line + Value into a nice neat package and helps add form with just a pen.

Crosshatching for Comics

Learn more about coloring by working in grayscale

How to Make Your Art Look Nice - Contrast!

Using lighting to make your art look nice.

Some light & shadow classifications.

Edges - notes on how they work in shading.

Color

A side note - color theory doesn't differ much, but color MIXING will change between mediums. If you're doing traditional colored pencil, you're overlapping 2 or more pigments on top of each other. If you're doing traditional paint, you're mixing & creating a solution/emulsion (depends on the pigment and binding) of pigments with the particles reflecting light in different ways. In digital, overlapping colors & blending colors depend on how the program you use calculates it if you're not just putting 2 color side by side. This just means you have to adjust your mixing when you switch between them. :)

Slawek Fedorczuk's Light & Color Tips - also shows how to guide through a scene.

The Color Tutorial Part 1 & 2 by Sashas - A personal favorite.

Color Studies 1-6 by Sheri Doty Amazingly nice breakdown on how color works in simple terms.

Sarah Culture's Tips on Color

The value of underpainting

A few notes on reflective light.

Experimental color techniques with Alai Ganuza: first post, second, & third.

Color zones of the face charts

Composition

Good Tips on Composition

Here's an example of how you can search the Etherington Brothers' stuff and get like 10 tutorials and tips on one subject. Composition & Cover Design, Shadow Composition, Two Line Composition - plus more.

How to make your art look nice: Thumbnailing!

And don't be afraid to make silly thumbnails or sketches.

Composition Examples - charts like these are great when you can't think of something yourself. There's no shame in using them.

Flow and Rhythm

Formulas for landscape composition.

Perspective

Perspective Drawing Tutorial by Julie Duell

Linear & Atmospheric Perspective Guide

One Point Perspective City Tut by Swingerzetta

Niso Explains Perspective - these are great for drawing figures in perspective!

Putting characters into scenes and drawing backgrounds

Backgrounds that make your character stand out!

Using background detail to guide the eye.

Odds and Ends

I shit you not, probably 1/3rd of my color, value, & structure knowledge comes from pixel art since I've done so much of it and it is all about challenging yourself to do the most you can with limitations. Check out lospec's tutorial database for fun and see how it compares to art techniques you're doing - even if you never try a medium, it's always interesting to see how it works. :D

How to Make Your Art Look Nice: Reference Images & Style, Pushing Proportions, and developing style.

Foervraengd talks about how he expanded his comfort zone with concept art & landscape drawing.

Luna Art talks about what they're thinking when doing concept art.

Repeating visual motifs in character design looks cool.

Eric's Thoughts on Drawing Backgrounds and Props.

Show vs. Tell: Why Visual is Not Optional in comics.

The Lost Vocabulary of Visual Story Telling Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, & Day 4.

Traditional Animation's 2 Digital Library books, The Know-How of Cartooning by Ken Hultgren & Advanced Animation by Preston Blair are two books from the golden age of animation they have up on their site for free viewing!

Animation resources dot org has a lot of cool stuff. Here's Nat Falk's How to Make Animated Cartoons (part 1). Their pages on Instruction & Theory are a good start.

Books

Good news: the internet archive has a TON of resources. Make sure to check around and toggle filters, it's a bit weird with organization. For example, a book can be under art or drawing - techniques, depending on who catalogues it.

Andrew Loomis is someone artist tend to die-hard reccomend. His work is collected here & here on the internet archive (one is Andrew Loomis, the other is Loomis, Andrew - thanks). I own Figure Drawing for All It's Worth and I recommend checking all of his stuff out, especially if you're having trouble with bodies and hands.

The Animator's Survival Guide by Richard Williams is mandatory in animation classes for good reason - it's fantastic!

Perspective for Comic Book Artist by David Chelsea is great for any type of artist. So is Extreme Perspective & Perspective in Action.

Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics, Reinventing Comics, & Making Comics. The first one is on the internet archive, the second two are likely avaliable at your library or at a bookstore as they're pretty popular.

Speaking of comics, Drawing Comics the Marvel Way has been a favorite of comic artist for years no matter what comic book companies and artist you like, it's a good introduction.

Anything by or endorsed by James Gurney, Color and Light: A Guide for the Realistic Painter is one of my favorites (this is his official page but you can get them elsewhere for cheaper too).

Art resource blogs with good tagging systems: @artist-refs , @help-me-draw , @helpfulharrie , @art-res , @drawingden , & @how-to-art

Lastly, I suggest if you find something you like online for free, SAVE IT! Whether it is through the Wayback Machine, screenshotting a whole webpage, reblogging/retweeting something, or putting it on pinterest, digital media is fickle and tends to go up in smoke when you least expect it. I have a partially organized Pinterest board that helped me find most of the stuff I wanted to keep. Figure out what works for you and save what you can.

[slytherinshua]

YOU'RE SUCH A DORK

genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. pairing. taeyong x fem!reader. wc. 814. request. no. a/n. just a lil smth i wrote for @blue-jisungs but yeah this does mean that im writing for nct now !!!! im excited to write for them 🥹

“I can’t focus when you’re doing that.” You stated. It took absolutely every ounce of your willpower to not look at your boyfriend who was trying so hard to steal your attention away whether he realized it or not. His head rested on your desk, and you could just see in your peripheral vision his big boba eyes that watched you as you worked, as well as a small pout on his cherry red lips.

“I’m not doing anything.” He mumbled, and his voice came out so small and soft that you could feel your heart melting in your chest.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, Yongie.” You insisted, dropping your pencil down on your notebook. You glanced at him just in time to see his lips lift slightly into a smile and you shook your head. No matter how much your boyfriend denied it, you knew he had perfected the art of how to distract you. It wasn’t even hard— all he really had to do was look at you with those big shiny eyes and you’d be folding.

“Do you have to do these stupid exercises?” He asked, lifting his head up from the desk and stretching. You didn’t blame him for getting a little bored; watching someone work was never the most entertaining thing to do. Even if you had only been studying for 20 minutes, you were also already tired of it.

“Unfortunately.” You nodded your head with a sigh.

“You’ve been staring at the same one for 5 minutes.”

“Yeah, I know.” You frowned, “I’m just not motivated, I guess.” Your boyfriend perked up at your comment.

“I can motivate you.” He offered, shuffling his chair a little closer to yours. 

You raised an eyebrow, “How so?” Whenever Taeyong had that ghost of a mischievous smile on his face, you knew you were in trouble.

“For every exercise you complete, I’ll give you a kiss.” He layed out the rules, and you immediately had to fight back a smile. Your boyfriend was such a dork. 

You pretended to think about it for a minute before agreeing. Even though you knew that the reason he was staring at you so hard earlier was probably because he wanted kisses, his plan did sound motivating enough to work on you. With your newfound focus from the thought of a promised kiss, you looked back at the problem and easily completed it within the next few minutes.

“Done.” You turned back to your boyfriend and used your pencil to point at the neat sentences you had written out. He nodded as his eyes scanned over it and his left hand pulled your chair closer to him at the same time. 

Within seconds his lips collided with yours and you closed your eyes, savouring the feeling and taste of his minty lip balm. You pouted as soon as the kiss was over. It didn’t feel long enough, but you were sure that even if you kissed Taeyong for a whole day, you would still feel like it wasn’t enough. You went back to work on the next problem without any protest.

The pattern went on for about an hour, and each time you completed an exercise, you got another kiss. As it went on, the kisses started to last a little longer. You could only assume that your boyfriend was trying to balance out how long it took you to complete a problem with how long the kiss was. 

It was in the middle of your 7th or 8th problem when you finally gave up, dropping your pencil down and slouching back in your chair. Taeyong’s kisses had definitely helped you, but your brain was exhausted and it felt like repeatedly smashing your head against a brick wall everytime you looked at another exercise.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You mumbled in defeat making your boyfriend look up from his phone.

“Do you need more kisses?” He offered. Your frown deepened at his offer, silently wondering how you got so lucky having someone as sweet as him as your boyfriend. You nodded in response to his suggestion and he let out a laugh.

“You’re cute.” Was all he whispered before he leaned over and reconnected his lips to yours. You could feel all the stress and exhaustion dissipate from your mind as Taeyong’s lips became the only thing your brain could focus on. He was balancing his hands on the armrests of your desk chair, holding himself up as he leaned over you; and it was perfect.

Perfect until he lost his balance and fell on you.

You burst into giggles when Taeyong’s lips detached from yours and his head hit your shoulder. You could hear him laughing too after he got over the shock of the kiss being unwelcomingly interrupted by his lack of focus on keeping himself up.

“You’re such a dork.”

↳ nct 127 taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,,

[huellitaa]

good morning! 𐙚๋࣭⭑⋅˚♡.

𓏲. i dont think people quite understand the importance of having a good morning routine. how we spend our morning sets the tone for the day and its a very important, peaceful, underrated & overlooked part of life i think we should appreciate more !!💕

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 the importance of a good morning

gives a sense of control

sets the mood for the day

develops healthy habits

boosts productivity and energy levels

helps to manage work & schedules

improves memory and focus

...anddd much much more. i love love love mornings so maybe i'm a liittle biased but they're so overhated & have so many positive benefits we should def make use of!

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. gratitude

idk if its just me but waking up early and prioritising my mornings makes me a lot a lot more grateful for everything i have in my life. appreciate just how lucky we are to be able to even have a bed to wake up in in the morning. be so grateful for being able to see the sunlight through your window and being able to see another day. its a luxury, privilege and blessing to be alive.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. dress up!

getting ready is always my FAVOURITE part of the morning. "but im not going anywhere" "im just going to school" "theres no point" no. idc. why do you have to have a reason? why cant you just do it for yourself? when i look cute i feel cute & when i feel cute i feel good. dress up do ur hair do ur makeup (if u wear it) ! look good -> feel good. 💖

(and if u wear school uniform, im making a post with info on how to still look cute w/ uniform soon!<3🩷💕)

🐧𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. time management

set the perfect time for you. that revolves around the time it takes you to get ready, to travel to your destination, etc. and set that back by 30 minutes. so for example say said time would be 7am -> you'd then change that to 6:30. that way youve got the extra time to just focus on yourself and sort out your day, choose what youre wearing, eat a lovely breakfast, drink something yummy, exercise, pilates, tidy up, etc. ♡

🩰𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. romanticism & enjoyment

id say this goes hand in hand with time management but make it so that you aren't rushing and stressing in the morning. enjoying the little things makes life as a whole so much more enjoyable. mornings often set the tone for the day, so if you have a calm and gentle morning, youre more likely to have a good day! ♡

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. clear mind

the third sibling of time management & romanticism is definitely being able to go into the day with a clear head. dumping down all your emotions in a journal, in your notes, whatever you use & having your day clearly planned out is a massive motivator for me. i use notion since im more of a visual learner and enjoy having things laid out pretty and neat in front of me but it can be anything you like! (notes, paper, journal, etc.) this ensures you go into the day without a ton of thoughts and worries weighing on your head already before you even start.

so maybe im a little biased because i really love mornings but think about it. feeling the sun through your window in the early dawn, watching it rise and listening to the birds, having some downtime to clear your mind and just be free for a little while before chaos of life begins again. i love you and wish you the best in all you do today 🫶🩷💕

all my love 🫶🩷🎀

[imshymorph]

It’s soft!Price once more, because i have issues.

So, talking about the possibility of you being the injured one…

John Price is a hypocrite and a liar, so much talking about how his last medical leave wasn’t anything, how he was fine. How much he’d insist he wouldn’t be all over you if you were the one with those injuries, because he knew it wasn't that worrying. All bullshit.

Here you are, a bunch of months later, being the one on medical leave. It had been one of those “it happened so quickly” situations. You and Gaz were entering a building in the lookout for some intel, thought the floor was clear, but a tango saw you from the connecting staircase and threw a grenade to the room you were entering.

- - - - -

You managed to grab one of the many straps on Gaz’s combat vest and pulled him with you to take cover. As you two landed on some ruble you felt a sickening crack on your side, one of your ribs giving in and breaking. You had been lucky enough, no organs punctured or injured. Even then, it meant at least six weeks of deskwork and limited movement, and an incredibly annoying and constant pain.

At least your new routine was easy to follow, alternating pain meds every five hours and avoiding putting extra strain on the hurt side. The worst part though? The damned breathing exercises and the fact that Price would walk in your office every two hours because “love, that’s how often the doctor said you had to do them.”

That was an overstatement really, because he’d walk in every two hours to specifically demand that you do the exercises. Always helping by holding a soft pillow to your side to avoid letting the cracked bone shift too much.

But in reality he was checking on you every ten or so minutes with whatever excuse he could think of. He’d bring you water, tea and biscuits… and the tray from the mess hall at lunch and dinner time, “so you don’t have to walk to the other side of the building, love”. He’d also make up excuses about reports, pointing out the dumbest typos or asking you to explain something (despite perfectly knowing what had happened because he was also there).

It wasn’t even a week in when you let out a sigh, the tenth time this morning he had come in with whatever excuse to check on you. He had made it, his objective accomplished. He knew had finally given in when your eyes moved from your computer screen to him. “John, you know what I was thinking? Why don’t I make space on my desk so you can work here with me. In case I need anything.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, a big smile was pulling at his. He left the room with a murmur of “anything for you, love”. That sneaky bastard, you thought as he walked in less than five minutes later. His laptop and a neat pile of reports on his hands, completely ready to make the move to your space.

[moronkombat]

Bi-Han nsfw alphabet? 🫣🧊

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Bi-Han is rather tender with his lover after having sex. He is quick to check on them, making sure they are comfortable and content. A large hand will encompass a cheek and his eyes will search his lover's before he pulls you close. His arms around you like a barrier to the entire world and its evils. He will protect you from them all

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Bi-Han is proud of his face. Not because it a handsome one but becomes it is identical to his mother's. Her visage is painted on him, it all he has left of her to look at besides aging photos. As he ages he likes to think his mother would look this way too

His partner's hands. So much smaller and lighter than his own, so easily to be broken. Bi-han would never. Not in any lifetime would he harm his lover. Those hands are to be held, kisses and caressed

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Definitely prefers to finish inside his partner. It is much more intimate and personal for him to release himself within a place most warm and hidden. Bi-Han truly feels deeply connected to his partner when their natural essence mingle and flow together

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Is often plagued by "inappropriate" thoughts of his lover. There is a hunger behind his eyes that fill his head with tantalizing fantasies of the carnal variety. He will tell absolutely no one that he often thinks of his lover quite lewdly. He vents these thoughts through rigorous exercise and sparring with other Lin Kuei

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's a virgin Very inexperienced. Bi-Han found little use or time for engaging in sexualized behaviors. He is not partial to seeking out a bedwarmer or a temptation of the night. When Bi-Han loves, it is completely and truly and with the one person he holds dearest

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Very much so ever changing. The position often changes based on the opportunity that is in front of him. Though he is rather traditional and prefers missionary with his lover. It feels right when he can look into his lovers eyes, bodies pressed closely together. Bi-Han likes to be on top because he wishes to hold you close and shield you from all the horrors of the world

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Bi-Han is exceptionally serious in the bedroom. He will not incorporate humor as he finds it disrespectful to you and this private moment shared between the two of you. Bi-Han would never disgrace his lover in such a way

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Bi-Han is neat and groomed but not hairless. He makes it a point to keep himself trimmed and even as to not pester his partner by accidentally irritating them with prickly hairs. While he can grow facial hair, he almost always shaves it but tends to rush through it causing his skin to feel roughened

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Despite his rather grim and intimidating demeanor, Bi-Han longs to show his partner a perfect romance. The only problem with that is he is incredibly awkward in that subject. That will not stop him from trying and, if he's known his lover for awhile, he eventually finds a good pattern of romance. He shows romance through gestures and not words. Do not expect to hear him say those three pretty words. They are not needed when he holds you so tenderly as your bodies entangle and he whispers to you "my heart"

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Seldomly indulges in such acts but probably should. He does have "impure" thoughts of his lover very frequently and intrusively and they weigh on him. He mostly releases himself through exercise or roughly sparring with someone

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Marking- Bi-Han is rather "vanilla" on the surface but peal the skin further back and corruption lingers. While he will never leave a cut on his partner or anything that will tear the skin he does enjoy leaving those reddened circles where he kissed and sucked. He is very meticulous when placing them, always somewhere no one else can see. They are for him and you to feast upon their memories in privacy. He does not leave exposed marks as to not bring attention to you or disrespect you. Bruising tends to occur during sex due to the sheer size of pace of him. While he feels guilty bringing them about, there is something about seeing your skin so painted quite thrilling

Breeding/Pregnancy- This is one he will never admit. He'd rather choke on these words than confess to such a perversion. Yet he is so enticed when he thinks about getting his partner pregnant with his child, with his heir. He groans and his spine curls just thinking about it. Each time he cums within his lover, there is a betraying prayer that wishes for his seed to take root so that you may grow round with child. If his partner were to become pregnant, he finds them incredibly attractive. Probably more than he should

Size difference- Bi-Han is large and his lover is...so fragile and delicate. Barely can he fit himself within warm walls. It takes oh so long for him to completely sheath himself inside. His hand will lay upon your naval and there he feels himself moving, the very outline of him traced into his palm

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bi-Han will almost always prefer to take his lover in the bedroom. He does not allow anyone in his personal quarter. That is a place for him and now it is for you too. It means to be exposed and vulnerable to have another in his room with him. He finds this the perfect place to express his love to you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Bi-Han gets in the mood by his partner's appearance. A pretty expression, a graceful step a lithe build that seems so different than his own. He longs to take away those layers of clothing and take your body into his arms

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Bi-Han will not harm his lover. He will not lay a hurtful hand on them, he just can't. Never will he bring them pain. Bi-Han will only protect you from it

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He enjoys both but expects to give you oral more than receive it. Why? Because he sees how much you like it and how loud you get for him. Louder than sound your moans can be when he between your legs and that really riles him up. However, receiving is also very much so enjoyed and he tends to be rather noisy when you go down on him

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Bi-Han is a rather healthy mis between the two. He will be slow and sensual but also pick up the tempo when he starts to really get into the mood. Those are when he bruises to your hips are created as his own slam and collide into yours while teeth are bared or snagged against a lip and groans most guttural spawn in his throat

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Does not prefer them as he feels it does not allow enough time to truly experience each other fully. Will he outright refuse them? No but he does not seek them out at all

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Bi-Han is a cautious lover i will go down with this ship so taking risks are not exactly thought of. Will he experiment? Yes, as long as it brings no harm to his lover or makes him feel as though he is hurting them

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Seemingly unlimited stamina. This man is a bull made of steel and iron. He could continue all night and into the morning but he does not often do that as his lover tends to tire quicker than him

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He'd be open to the idea of them but ultimately unsure and a bit lost in terms of how to use them. He will need guidance and his partner to request their use. Otherwise, they do not even cross his mind

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A fair lover most of the time but he does succumb to those impish temptations. This mostly manifests during oral sex with his partner. He longs to hear your whines more and more and so he tends to draw out his methods when using his tongue

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Bi-Han groans and grunts frequently during sex and is not silence nor quiet. He not loud either, however. He falls somewhere in middle and begins to reach his most audible during a faster pace

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Bi-Han is prone to jealousy even if he and his partner have been in a long standing committed relationship. He simply cannot help but feel a twitch of annoyance when your attention is on another. He often glares at the one you are speaking with which doesn't go unnoticed. When he is feeling particularly jealous he will become vocal about it in bed by saying "you are mine and i am yours. this will be forever"

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Bi-Han is muscular, toned and very fit. His body has been built up and carved by combat and training. His arms are large and powerful, legs muscular and refined. Every part of his body showcases his exquisite physique. He is large in every way with his length above average and with a hefty girth to match

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is moderate. Not too high but not low. He fits comfortably in the middle. He and his lover do not engage in primal desires daily but typically do not go longer than a couple of days without it

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

His eyes do not close nor does he leave his lover in the bed. His aim to stay with them after each time he and you have sex. Bi-Han holds you to him but often says very little or nothing at all. Yet he does not sleep, not until you do. He simply enjoys laying in your comfort and love until you are ready to sleep

[dulcesiabits]

your attention on me, please!

summary: despite a spotless academic career, your poor athleticism makes the upcoming school sports day a nightmare. but when you spot the school slacker, nagi seishiro, pull off a crazy feat of flexibility, you think you've found your ticket to success. The one thing you didn't account for, though, is the way nagi wrecks everything you thought you understood.

notes: 7.5k words, fic, author's notes (read for some cultural context too), no blue lock au, fluff, romcom vibes, soccer is called football, this starts before nagi meets reo but covers a canon divergent vers of their meeting

Everything in the world can be categorized. 

This is something you’ve come to learn in all your years of living on the planet; it’s something you’ve come to expect, even. That there are certain patterns to interactions, that people can be dissected into simple pieces, and the world moves neatly along set routes you can predict. You’ve mapped out a path to success with your knowledge: graduate at the top of your class as student representative, test into a prestigious university, and work for a successful company. 

But there are some people who, despite your best efforts, wreck your neat understanding of the world, strange outliers who are more like aliens rather than fellow residents of the same planet. Nagi Seishiro, a classmate you’ve never paid particular attention to before, is one such example of an alien. Because despite your best efforts, you can’t help but find him incomprehensible. 

Your first meeting with Nagi Seishiro is less of a meeting, and more of a chance encounter. The roof, which is often forbidden to students, is easily accessible once you pick the lock. And because of that, it’s also the one place you can go to relax outside of the view of your classmates.

At least, you used to be the only one who knew the roof was accessible. Because on a balmy day during your second year of high school, you find someone lounging on the flat tiles, a phone raised in front of their face.

You pause, squinting at the intruder. It takes you a few seconds, but eventually you recognize who it is: your classmate, Nagi Seishiro, who’s perpetually napping in class, or pretending to read while he plays video games. 

But he doesn’t look up once from his phone, so you carefully skirt to the opposite corner of where he lies, taking your textbooks out of your bag to study. The next few hours pass in silence, and it’s only when the roof door bangs open that you look up to see Nagi disappearing down the stairs. 

Easy. Simple. Uncomplicated. You two orbit each other for the next few weeks, sharing space on the roof without talking. Maybe it’s because the rooftop has made you aware of his existence, but you start seeing him around school, too. Dawdling in the classroom after school as everyone flies past him, getting reprimanded for overdue library books, or buying bread from the cafeteria long after everyone else has already stolen the best pieces.

Nagi lives in a world of his own and moves along at his own pace, and makes absolutely no effort in anything at all. Your paths will never intersect, because the way he lives is an antithesis to everything you believe in.

But that all changes a few weeks before the school sports meet. Exercise is the one thing you can’t seem to improve in; unlike your grades or your sociability, you simply can’t practice enough to overcome your lack of coordination. But simply giving up isn’t an option; you can’t accept anything less than first place after embarrassing yourself last year. 

On the opposite side of the roof from Nagi Seishiro, where you’re accustomed to studying now, you happen to glance up at the exact moment he trips over his own untied shoelaces and drops his phone… before he sweeps his free foot to catch the falling object and twists his arm to use his hand to push himself back into a standing position, all in the span of a few seconds. 

“That was dangerous,” he mumbles, kicking his phone back into his grasp, but your heart is pounding. You might have found a solution to your sports day problem.

“Nagi Seishiro,” you say, flying across the roof to plant yourself in front of him before he can move back to his usual lounging spot. 

He blinks at you sleepily, as if trying to place your face in his memories. “Who’re you?”

“Your classmate. I saw that stunt just now,” you continue. “You… you’re really athletic.”

“I guess?”

“Help me become a better athlete.” you raise one hand. “I don’t expect you to do it for free, though! I promise I can help you raise your grades in return. The teacher chews you out a lot in class for not paying attention, right? It’d be a good deal!”

His reply is immediate. “Don’t want to.”

“Why not? I mean, if you don’t like the terms of our deal, I could come with something that’s more favorable to you–”

“I don’t care about all of that,” he says bluntly. “It sounds like a lot of work.”

Huh. Huh? You try to maintain a smile, but you feel as if he just threw cold water on your face. “What do you mean, it’s a lot of work?”

“It just sounds like a pain. I don’t want to do it,” he says. He glances down at his phone screen. “Ah. I died. Guess I’ll need to restart that level.”

“Wait!” you say before he can move around you. “It won’t be a lot of work. I just need to know how you pulled off that stunt– I mean, didn’t you practice to get that good?”

“Not really? I just sorta did it. It’s like…” He waves one arm vaguely. “You sorta go fwoosh. And then fwaah.”

“... What?” Was he just naturally gifted, then? You don’t think you’ve seen any of your friends on sports teams act as flexibly as he did.

“If you don’t get it, I can’t explain it,” he says. “Why are you trying so hard? Can’t you ask someone else?”

He didn’t mean it negatively, not with the spacey expression in his eyes and the lack of malice in his tone. Still, a jolt of anger runs down your spine as you grab onto the lapels of his jacket, wrenching him to look down at you. “No. It has to be you. Don’t run away from me, Nagi Seishiro,” you say furiously. “I can’t pull off anything you just did, but I want to get better anyways. So you’re going to help me, because you don’t have a choice. I won’t let you go.”

“... What a pain,” Nagi mumbles. “But it’d be more of a pain to refuse, huh…”

You frown. “What was that?”

“Nothing, boss. But I’m ranking in an event right now, so can we wait until–”

“I’ll help you rank,” you say immediately. “So no more excuses.”

Nagi puts up his hands in surrender. “Okay.”

After your (one-sided) agreement, Nagi starts to stick to you like a burr. Or it might be more accurate to say that you refuse to let him out of your sight, because the second you stop paying him an ounce of attention, he goes back to dozing, gaming or lying around doing nothing.

Sure, your deal was only limited to sports training, but seeing the state of him, you couldn’t just let him be. Seriously, how on earth has he survived until now? He has all the energy and drive of a sloth.

“You need to brush your hair more,” you snap, running a comb through his soft hair as Nagi dozes at his desk. “It’ll get tangled otherwise.”

“Too much work.”

“Everything’s too much work with you. But you know, you only create more work for yourself in the future if you neglect doing basic routines like this now,” you emphasize.

“Is that why you always work so hard?” he says.

“Well, yes. I want to do my best at everything, because I want to be successful. That’s the best path to happiness, you know. Doing your best and achieving great results because of it.”

“Huh.” Nagi takes out a smushed piece of melon bread from his pocket. “You’re weird.”

“You’re the weird one,” you grumble. “Is that the only thing you brought to eat?”

“Yeah.”

You put down the comb, and, rummaging around in your bag, pull out your lunchbox. You slam it down on Nagi’s desk. “Eat half of this. You can’t survive off of just bread.”

“Okay.”

After school, though, is when you hustle Nagi to the nearby park in your gym clothes, ready to start training. Nagi is an unmotivated teacher, but from his limited and vague explanations, you’ve managed to at least work out that you need to be more observant of your limbs, and the space around you. 

At the park, you force him to run laps with you, and go through a few exercise routines you’ve looked up online. By the end of it, you’re panting and sweating, but Nagi looks as unruffled as ever.

“Water,” Nagi says, tapping the side of your head with a water bottle. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, but he’s already messing with his phone again.

“Log on,” he says. “I want to rank again.”

“What? Let’s go for a few more rounds,” you protest.

“But you promised to help me.”

You groan, fishing your phone out of your bag. You weren’t particularly interested in games, but after realizing it incentivized Nagi more than any of your pleading, you’d brushed up on your skills, watched tutorials and practiced strategies, and soon found yourself battling side by side with Nagi in a virtual world during most of your evenings. 

“... You’re good,” Nagi mumbles as your fingers tap across the screen, clearing a row of enemies. 

“That’s because I practice. Okay, done!” You bounce up, stretching your arms. “A few more laps, Nagi. Come on!”

Nagi groans but lethargically raises himself up, and you run around the park until night falls.

You don’t know what to think of your classmate, to be honest. He’s a genius at sports, but he never practices or utilizes his talent. How can he just let it go to waste? Taking the easy route is a foreign concept, and you still can’t quite fit the pieces of Nagi Seishiro into a coherent design. Spacey, unmotivated, lackadaisical… you’d even start keeping spare supplies in your bag because Nagi is always forgetting his notebook at home, or needs to borrow a towel. But despite how pushy you act, he never acts bothered by it. Nor does he mind listening to you, or doing what you say, or following you around, though you thought he would have long thrown in the towel by now.

You’re friends, and you’re fond of him. The idea surprises you when you realize it, but it’s not an unpleasant thought.

The next few weeks fly by in a routine of school, training and home until the day of the anticipated sports meet. You’ve signed up for the relay race, and you jump up and down to keep your energy up. You chatter away with your classmates until the appointed time, all your friends teasing you and trying to pat you on the head. 

Mikage Reo is no such exception, and your oldest friend finds you in the crowd while fighting back a gaggle of fawning admirers. 

You’ve been friends with Reo since middle school. 

Maybe you naturally gravitated towards each other because you’re both always surrounded by people, or because your grades are neck and neck, or because his philosophy in life is similar to yours. The only difference between the two of you is that Mikage Reo is a corporate heir, and you earned a scholarship to attend school. The worst part about being his friend, though, is that you’ve heard whispers of people around school calling the two of you “the school’s flowers,” a nickname you hope never, ever catches on.

“Good luck,” Reo says, flicking your nose. “Don’t trip out there.”

You pat Reo on the shoulder. “Be amazed, Reo. I’m a new and improved athlete.”

He snorts. “Yeah? I’ve heard you dragged some kid into being your personal trainer. You never let up, do you?”

“That’s the only way to succeed, Reo! I have to keep my eyes on the prize!” 

You make your way down to the starting line of the track, but a familiar head of fluffy white hair catches your gaze. You run behind Nagi and poke him in the sides.

“Oof,” he says, but he doesn’t look surprised to see you. “You’re going to run now?”

“Yes. And I’m going to bring us to victory!” You raise your arms. “I’ve practiced hard for this moment, so keep your eyes on me, Nagi.”

A gaggle of boys in red jerseys passing by snicker at your declaration. From the class across from yours, you recall distantly. “Loser,” one of them calls. “Who gets worked up over a school event?”

For once, you see a spark of anger in Nagi’s eyes, an emotion you’ve never seen cross his face before. He frowns, opening his mouth, but you place a hand on his elbow. He relaxes at your touch, glancing lopsidedly at you. 

“Don’t pay them any attention,” you say firmly. “It’s not worth it.”

“... Okay.” But Nagi’s eyes remain narrowed at their retreating backs.

“It’s nice of you to worry, though. Thanks.” His concern is a warmth you carry in your chest all through the race; so he does have emotions other than apathy and faint annoyance. Yet another puzzle piece to the mystery of Nagi Seishiro. 

You get into position, the whistle blows, and the first runners of the race set off. You’re running the last leg of the relay, and your class is already behind when your classmate dashes up to you, slapping the baton in your hands. You sprint, all those weeks of dragging Nagi out to train working their magic as you pass one person… then another… but you’re still too far from the finish line with one person just ahead of you. Your legs pump. Your lungs burn. The wind whips past your face. You won’t make it like this. Reo cheers your name in the distance. And there’s a shock of white hair out of the corner of your eye, and you know he’s watching, the slacker, and he probably doesn’t see what the big deal is if you come in second… Keep going. Keep going… and, in a burst of speed, you strain your legs to the limit as you dash past your last competitor, your foot touching the finish line as your classmates erupt into cheers.

You can hardly process what happens next, your blood still pumping from the race, but you slow to a jog as your classmates swarm you, shouting praise. 

“Great job!” Reo says, and you high five him. 

But your eyes are already searching for Nagi, who sticks out of the crowd like a sore thumb, towering over the majority of your classmates.

“Did you see that?” you ask Nagi as you dash up to him.

“Yeah. You won. Congrats,” he says simply. “All your work paid off.”

“Do you have a different opinion on working hard now, Nagi?” you say, elbowing him in the side. 

“Dunno. Still seems like a lot. But… you looked like you were shining,” he says seriously. “I couldn’t stop watching you.” 

You pretend to cough into your elbow, hiding your warming cheeks. “Thanks. Anyways! You’re up next, right? What did you sign up for? Ping-pong?”

“I asked someone to switch with me,” he says. “I’m playing football now.”

“Foot… ball? Are you sure you can pick up on all the rules in a short amount of time?” you say, surprised. “Why would you do that?”

“Just because.” But the way Nagi avoids your gaze makes you wonder if he’s hiding something. Still, it wouldn’t be fair of you to pry, and the victory is still racing through your blood. 

“All right. I’ll go cheer you on, then.” 

The two of you make your way to the football field, where the rest of the team is warming up. Someone throws Nagi a blue jersey, and you turn to size up the opposing team. They’re wearing red jerseys… and they’re the same boys who had made fun of you, just a few moments ago. You glance at Nagi, but he’s lazily stretching one leg. 

“Good luck,” you say to Nagi.

“Hm. Won’t need it.” For once, you can’t tell if it’s confidence or lethargy in his voice.

The ensuing football game isn’t a game at all. It’s a one-sided slaughter, with Nagi leading the charge. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Nagi move so fast or fluidly. The ball never leaves his side, and the other team can’t even touch him. One goal. Then another. And when it’s clear they can’t do anything to stop him, the enemy team starts frantically swarming Nagi, breaking formation. But not even a pile-up can save them from their fate, because Nagi simply dodges and kicks the ball into the goal in a series of complicated maneuvers that you can barely track with your eyes. 

The timer runs out, and no one can say a word. You start clapping, and like they’ve woken from a daze, your classmates start cheering, a roar so loud you can hear it reverberate in your heart.

“Did you see that? I didn’t realize Nagi could move like that,” one of your classmates murmurs. 

“I know! Where has he been hiding that talent? It’s so unfair!”

On the distant field, you see Nagi talk to one of opposing team members, who turns an ugly color at his words. You make your way down to the swarm of your excited classmates, but Nagi is already scanning the crowd, lazily waving off compliments from the people around him, and his droopy eyes perk up when you approach. 

“What did you say to that boy?” you whisper, and Nagi leans down so you can cup your hand around his ear. “He looked upset.”

“Just told him he shouldn’t be calling other people losers when he doesn’t even know how to play the game right,” Nagi says. “That’s all.”

“Did you…” The sudden thought feels ridiculous and self-centered. And yet, Nagi Seishiro, the guy who hates activity, who hates effort, who never seems to have particularly strong feelings… “Did you do that because of what he said to me?”

Nagi shrugs. “You worked hard for your goal. He shouldn't have said that.”

There’s a strange fluttering in your chest, and you clamp down on it with all your might. You aren’t going to go there. Because it’s absurd, and impossible, and simply doesn’t make any sense. It would ruin your perfectly aligned plans and wreck your understanding of the world. You’re barely even friends with Nagi; why would he go through all of that trouble for you?

Instead, you elbow him, more roughly than you intend to. “Thanks, but I told you it was okay. People say stupid things all the time.”

“But I didn’t like it,” he says firmly. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

Who is this guy? Did an alien abduct the real Nagi Seishiro and replace him mid-game? It’s hard to look at him, all of a sudden, so you glance down at your shoes instead, trying to calm the pounding of your heart.

The next day, Nagi Seishiro is the talk of the school. His one-sided destruction during sports day gets passed around in whispers and rumors, and a few of your classmates now tell him good morning when he walks through the door. Still, his attitude and manner is enough to put most of them off… all but your friend, Mikage Reo.

“Play football with me!” 

It’s a declaration made when you and Nagi are walking through the halls after school, Reo skirting to a stop just in front of you. He strides up to Nagi, his eyes shining in the golden afternoon sunlight.

“Don’t wanna,” Nagi says immediately.

“Why not? You have the talent, the genius… we could take the world by storm. You… could become the best player in Japan… no, the best player in the world! Be my football partner!” Reo says effusively.

Nagi glances at you. “I already have a partner.”

The term “partner” trills down your spine, but you hold up your hands at Reo’s crestfallen look. “Our deal was only for the sports meet. We’re not really partners anymore.” 

Did Nagi look disappointed, or was it just a trick of the light? Either way, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I still don’t want to.”

“Why not?” Reo demands.

“It sounds boring.”

“He thinks everything is too much work,” you say, and Reo throws you a stare that screams “how did you even convince him to work with you?” You grimace in response.

“Come on, Nagi Seishiro. I’ll show you a whole new world. It won’t be boring for even a second. Play football with me!” Reo tries again, but Nagi only stares at him silently. 

Nagi glances at you again (why does he keep looking at you?) and Reo, ever observant, throws his pleading in your direction. 

“Please convince Nagi for me,” Reo begs. “He’ll listen to you.”

“What– I don’t–”

“We’re friends,” Reo wheedles. “Come on.”

Well. It wasn’t as if you wanted Nagi to go back to his old slacker ways, and maybe spending time with Reo would open up Nagi’s narrow world, just a bit more. “Nagi, why don’t you try it? You did really well at the sports meet. It’d be a waste to do nothing with your talent.”

“... Is football fun?” Nagi asks.

“Really fun!” Reo replies.

“And… it’s something that people have to try hard at?”

“Most people! You might be able to skate by without even practicing, though, since you’re a genius,” Reo says. “Not that I’m going to let you slack on the field, or off it.”

“Huh… no wonder the two of you get along…” he mutters, before turning the full force of his attention on you. “Is working hard, and doing your best at something… is it really that fun?”

“Huh? Well, yeah! I want to be the best I can be, and winning the relay race felt really good,” you say. “Didn’t you feel anything when you won the football match?”

“Dunno, but… hm…” You can see the rusty gears turning in his head. “I’ll go with you,” Nagi says finally to Reo. “I’ll try joining your team… but…” He points at you. “They have to come with me.” 

“Huh? I’m not even good at sports,” you say defensively. “I have too much on my plate to–”

“Deal!” Reo interjects. “They can come to all our practices and games, even if they don’t join the team! Don’t go back on your word, Nagi Seishiro.”

And to your utter bafflement, you find yourself attending Nagi and Reo’s football games. Nagi, whose attitude you’re just starting to crack, suddenly turns back to an utter alien. Why did you have to attend their practices? Nagi seems content just to have you there, and Reo calls you a “lucky charm,” because apparently Nagi is more motivated when you’re around. 

Sure, you pick up on enough of the terminology and mechanics of the game to bounce strategies with Reo, but you doubt you really need to be there when they have a seasoned coach. Why had Nagi really accepted Reo’s offer, too? So many mysteries surrounded him.

When you ask, Nagi only says vaguely that he accepted Reo’s offer because “he wants to learn what it means to try his best” and you have to be here because “he needs you around.” And then he failed to elaborate when you pressed him.

Truly, Nagi’s behavior doesn’t fit with anyone you’ve ever met before. How can you start to untangle the threads of his random whims? It’s impossible… which is why it leads to odd moments, like during the latest football game Reo organized.

“Nagi, what are you doing?”

Reo's exasperated voice rings out across the field. And, with the screen flashing a score of 5-0 overhead, and curious audience members staring at you and Nagi at the bench below, you can't help but find yourself echoing his sentiments. The star of your school's most recent football match is standing right in front of you, bent at a 90 degree angle so he's looking straight at the ground, his fluffy hair shoved right in front of your face.

“Nagi, what are you doing?” you say, hands still clasped together mid-clap.

“I won the game,” he says matter-of-factly.

“You did! Congratulations!”

But Nagi still doesn't move. In the distance, Reo raises his eyebrows at you, and you shrug your shoulders helplessly. Nagi, with his alien tendencies, is incomprehensible at this moment. As soon as Nagi had scored the winning shot and the timer counted to zero, he dodged all his cheering teammates and made a beeline straight to where you were sitting, bending into a strange position. And he’s been like this for the past three minutes, without any explanation. 

“I won the game,” he repeats.

“I know. I was watching.”

“So you should compliment me,” Nagi says patiently, as if he were explaining a math equation to a small child.

“Huh? But I did,” you protest. “I congratulated you.”

“You should compliment me,” he says again.

This conversation could run around in circles all day. Your eyes drift to Nagi's hair, white strands sticking up in all directions. It's always messy because the only time a comb touched his head was when you were the one using it to brush his hair. Then it hits you out of the blue. No way. Did he want you to…? There’s only one way to find out.

Your hand sinks into his hair as you pat him on the head. It's just as soft as it looks, if not a bit sweaty from exercise. One pat, two pats, and then you quickly extract your hand before you lose yourself in the addicting feeling of stroking his hair. “You did a good job, Nagi. I'm proud of you.”

Nagi finally looks up, satisfied, even if the expression on his face doesn't change a bit. He tilts his head when he sees you shaking your hand slightly. “What are you doing?”

"You're sweaty," you inform him. "Next time, you only get head pats if you take a shower first."

A frown grows across Nagi's face before he drops his chin on the top of your head, arms wrapping around you and draping himself over you as if he had no strength left in his body. You shriek at the sudden, sweaty contact, nose crushed right against his jersey.

“Nagi! Cut it out!”

“Don't wanna. Too much work.”

“And it's not too much work to lean on me like this?” you ask, voice muffled from being pressed against his body.

His arms tighten around you. “Nope.”

"Nagi, you're suffocating them," Reo says, his voice startling close. He must have moved across the field while you were caught up with Nagi.

“They're okay,” Nagi says.

“No, he's right. I can’t breathe right now,” you say dryly.

Nagi loosens his grip around you, but his chin still rests on your head.

“Nagi, we need to talk about our next game,” Reo says expectantly.

“Don't wanna.”

Reo shoots you a pleading glance from around Nagi’s back. “Nagi, go with Reo to talk about your next game,” you order.

“Do I have to?” Nagi shuffles back just enough for you to see his unhappy expression, your head finally freed from his touch.

“Yes,” you and Reo both say at the same time.

“Fine,” he replies. Reo, triumphant, grabs Nagi's arm before he can make a sudden dash, and mouths a thank you before hauling Nagi away. Nagi, for his part, throws you forlorn glances as Reo drags him away, but you only wave at him, smiling.

When the two of them are gone and most of the audience has dispersed, only you and the chilly autumn sunshine remain. The wind, which hadn't been quite so cold before, is strong enough to make you pull your coat tighter around yourself.

Nagi Seishiro is the human equivalent to one of the world’s unsolvable math equations. Though the formula looks simple in theory, there’s simply no way of understanding it– or understanding him. His lackadaisical method of communication doesn’t make it any easier, either. You can’t tell if he’s genuinely obtuse, or if he doesn’t notice that other people can’t track his thought process without communication– or maybe he thinks it’s too much of a bother to try.

But you’re used to his strangeness, though– or at least, you thought you were used to it, until your classmates approached you with wide eyes and giggly whispers one day, asking if the rumors were true. 

“You’re dating Nagi?” they’d asked. “The guy who’s winning all our school’s football games?”

“What?” you hissed. “Who told you that?”

“Nagi himself,” one of the girls said excitedly. “I heard someone ask him why he’s been hanging out with you so much, and he said that was because he’s your partner! Is it true? Are you two dating?”

“It’s not,” you said firmly. “It really isn’t!” you added when the girls looked at you doubtfully. Your heart sank, because if these girls were approaching you, then that’d meant the rumors had spread around the entire school already. If there’s one thing your classmates liked to do, it was gossip.

That’s how you end up dragging Nagi to the roof after school, running up the empty staircase and through streaks of lazy sunshine until you’re back where it all started, the space you onced shared like two planets orbiting the same sun, never interacting.

Now, standing across from the culprit of all the rumors, you tilt your head at Nagi, who tilts his head in the same direction as a response. His sleepy eyes bore into your own, tracking your movements like a puppy.

“Nagi, have you been telling people I’m your partner?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you doing that?”

“Because it’s true,” he says. 

“But…! People have been saying we’re dating!”

Nagi tilts his head. “Oh. It was too much of a pain to correct them. I said we were partners, and then they started giggling, saying stuff like ‘I knew it! They’re dating!’ and left before I could say anything else. Is it bad that they think we’re dating?”

“It is! Because it’s not true at all!”  

“We study together and game together ,” he says. “And help each other out. And spend all our time together. So aren’t we partners?”

“Well… this and that are two different things… Being someone’s romantic partner and being someone’s platonic partner are… they’re not the same. I’m just saying, you only date someone you like romantically!”

“Oh. Well, I like you,” he says simply. “So then it’s okay for us to date.”

You feel like someone has just shot you into outer space without a map, and you’re floating around, trying to get your bearings without gravity for the first time. “Huh?”

“I like you,” he repeats. “So, then it’s okay for people to think we’re dating, right? Oh. We could start dating for real, and then that would also clear up the rumors.”

Dating… Dating Nagi? He looks satisfied, nodding to himself as if he’s figured out a particularly complicated equation, but you’re more lost than ever. Romance? Love? Those thoughts have never even crossed your mind. You figured you’d get to them eventually, but the most important thing in your life was success. You weren’t ready yet! You don’t have a plan prepared! Besides, why would he like you? When did feelings have time to grow? If anything, shouldn’t Nagi be annoyed with you for interrupting his peaceful lifestyle?

You can’t map this situation at all. You have no previous references to draw back on other than the girls and boys who asked Reo out throughout the years. Romance should be simple, you’d thought as Reo chased his admirers off. Romance should be simple, and easy, something you can chart and track and understand. There should be a formula to it, just like everything else in life.

“I don’t have time to date,” you say. “I have to focus on my priorities, like… like getting into a good university.”

Nagi shrugs. “Oh. We can date when we’re in university, then.”

“But…!”

“Do you not like me?” he asks seriously.

You open your mouth, but you can’t think of any of a proper rebuttal. You should just say no, but… did you really not like Nagi? Not at all? Not when he went along with your plans, defended you during sports day, wanted you at all his games, and told you he liked you, no games, no pretense, no calculations?

“... I can’t answer that,” you say lamely. 

“Then take your time,” he says.

“But…”

“I like you,” he says. “But if you don’t like me or you don���t want to date, then I’m okay with just being by your side.”

Why couldn’t such a simple answer ever come so easily to you, like it does to Nagi? “It’s weird,” you say quietly, looking down at your feet, “It’s weird not understanding my feelings. I want to understand everything. I wish it were easy.”

“But isn’t it tiring thinking so hard all the time? Sometimes, you can’t think through something. You just have to deal with it,” Nagi says slowly. “But… I like the part of you that tries hard and wants to do everything you can.”

Maybe it’s the sunlight, or the bright blue sky behind him, but Nagi is so brilliant your eyes are drawn to him. Is this what he meant, back during sports day, about shining so brightly he couldn’t look away?

“Stop telling people we’re dating, though,” you grumble.

“Yes, boss.”

—

Mikage Reo, someone you once thought was your friend, is laughing at you. He’s laughing at you, and everytime you think he’s stopped, he takes one look at you and bursts out laughing again. Mercifully, at least, there’s no one in the classroom to witness your humiliation.

“You really think you could make a plan for your love life, like how you plan for classes?” he snickers. “You know, relationships are a lot more complicated than you give them credit for.”

“Hey! In most cases, there is a set pattern to romance.”

“A pattern? Set by who?” Reo asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“Well… in the books I’ve read… and video games I’ve played… I think there’s a common–”

“From stories! Not from real people? Do you know real life is different from books?” Reo cuts in. “Emotions don’t operate on a cut and dry principle.”

“But there is rationality behind emotions,” you argue. “The way people react to certain situations, according to their personality and environment, and–”

“You’re a nerd,” Reo says bluntly. “You can’t predict everything, you know.”

“I can try,” you say blithely, but Reo rolls his eyes. 

“Poor Nagi,” Reo says with a sigh. “This is what happens when he actually tries hard at something!”

“Poor me. I can’t believe he started telling people we were dating without asking me first,” you grumble, and Reo starts laughing again. 

“The two of you are hilarious,” he says, wiping away the tears forming in his eyes. “I haven’t laughed so hard in ages.”

“At least someone is enjoying this.”

 Reo pats you on the back. “But don’t you think you’re underestimating Nagi?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You keep trying to quantify him, but are you really listening to what he’s saying?” Reo asks. “Can’t you just accept that there are some things you won’t understand?”

“But–”

“Do you really not know how you feel about him?” Reo presses. “Don’t string him along. Reject him, or go out with him, but you can’t make him wait to sort out your feelings forever.”

“I know! I know that. But…” You scuff at the floor with your shoe. Reo is right, as loath as you are to admit it. It’s not fair to Nagi to make him wait. And… maybe Nagi isn’t the alien here. Maybe you are, because you’ve tried so hard to turn everything into precise data points so you can understand the human beings around you and the planet you inhabit. Maybe that’s your only option to stave off the fear and the vulnerability the complete randomness of the universe creates.

“I’m not trying to be a jerk to you,” Reo says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt either, you know. But you can’t keep running forever.”

“I’m not running,” you say.

Reo hums, but then nods to himself, as if coming to a decision. “Do you know why Nagi joined the football team?”

“Because we pestered him into joining?” you grumble.

“No. He told me it’s because he wanted to be more like you.”

“Like me…?”

“He admires you for having goals,” Reo says simply. “For always trying your best. And he wants to understand what it’s like to care so much about something. He wants to learn how to understand you, which is amazing, don’t you think? He doesn’t really seem like the guy who’s ever put much effort into anything before.”

He joined because he admired you? You feel a strange heat in your chest. Nagi, who’s trying to understand something. And you, who has to stop trying to understand everything. What a strange pair you make.

Reo smiles slightly, but you can’t help but find it unbearably smug, the meddler. Why did he have to say the right words to send your thoughts spiraling? “Why don’t you try looking at this from a different angle? What sort of guys do you like?” Reo says abruptly.

“Successful and rich guys,” you say automatically.

“You like successful and rich guys?” Nagi says, and both you and Reo whirl around at the sudden intrusion into your classroom. How much has he heard? You’re panicking as Nagi raises a hand in greeting, but he suddenly frowns. Oh no. Oh no– but he promptly marches over and snatches Reo’s hand off your shoulder, patting off imaginary specks of dust.

“Petty…” Reo mutters, but neither of you acknowledge him.

“What are you doing here?” you say.

“I wanted to see you,” Nagi replies.

You kick Reo’s leg just as he starts shooting you self-satisfied glances. Reo winces, then lightly jabs you in the ribs with his elbow.

“Don’t hit them,” Nagi says to Reo.

“Huh? But they kicked me first!”

Nagi shrugs. “That’s okay.” 

“I don’t like this double standard. You’re ganging up on me,” Reo accuses.

“That’s your problem,” you tell Reo loftily.

Nagi calls your name softly. “Are you free on the weekend?”

“Yes. Oh, did you want to study for the history test together?” you ask, grateful for a change in subject.

“Test?” 

“... I’ll be there on Sunday afternoon.”

“Okay, boss,” Nagi says.

With nothing left to discuss, you all start your separate paths home. Reo flashes you one last thumbs up before the three of you part. “Good luck!” he calls. 

“Thanks,” you say. Because like it or not, this weekend is going to be the first time you’re alone with Nagi after his confession. 

—

On the weekend, you take the subway to Nagi’s house. The ride is only twenty minutes, but you spend the entire time leaning your forehead against the cool glass of the window, scenery flashing by in a muted blur. What’s going to happen? You haven’t even responded to Nagi’s confession yet, and your heart drums nervously in your chest. 

But Nagi’s house, you discover, is surprisingly ordinary. When you ring the doorbell, it takes a few seconds for him to amble down, wrinkled clothes and sloppy hair revealing that he just crawled out of bed.

“Welcome,” he says, and leans over as you run your fingers through his hair, causing the strands to spike up. Soft and silky, despite the fact he puts zero effort into its maintenance. 

“Do you even know what I’m here for?”

“... To game?”

“To study!” you correct, shooing him back inside. You take off your shoes at the entryway, changing into house slippers, and the two of you settle down in the living room. There’s only a couch, a low table and a rug, and a television set in the corner. It’s sparse but clean, so it’s possible Nagi has to hire someone to clean his house, because you doubt he does it on his own.

You pile your textbooks on the table, folding your legs underneath yourself as you flip through your notes. “So… did you study for the test next week?”

“We have a test?” Nagi says, picking up your pencil case.

You slap his hand. “Yes! In history. Did you forget already? I just told you last Friday!”

“You were going to come over, so… I was too excited. I forgot.”

“Am I just supposed to remember everything for you? You need to take initiative,” you say, exasperated, ignoring the fluttering in your chest. So he’d been excited to see you? No, those sorts of thoughts were irrelevant. “Look through the textbook. I marked everything I thought might be on the test.” You slide the book to Nagi, who dutifully picks it up before immediately lying on his side.

“Sit up. You’ll get a headache,” you say, and Nagi slides back into a cross-legged position, resting the book on his lap.

It’s quiet except for the scratching of your pencil and the rustle of pages. When you glance at Nagi to check his process, he’s diligently looking through the textbook, absorbed into reading each section you carefully marked. He’s oblivious to the emotional turmoil that you’re experiencing just by sitting across a table from him; how had you been able to act so casually before? Now, you’re hyper-aware of his presence, his soft sighs, his loose posture, the eyelashes shading across his cheeks.

Out of the blue, Nagi speaks. “You said I can ask you if I have any questions, right?”

You hum, tracing your finger down the text you highlighted. “Yes. Got a question about a passage?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“Can I tell you that you’re cute?”

“That’s… that’s not related to studying,” you try to scold, but your voice is weak even to your own ears.

“Sorry. But I didn’t know if I was allowed to tell you or not,” Nagi says.

“I…” You try to stand, try to find an excuse to leave the room for a second, but your legs have fallen asleep from being in the same cramped position for so long. You stumble, and Nagi, moving faster than you’ve ever seen him, is by your side in a heartbeat.

“Are you okay?” he says, and his concerned face is hovering inches from your own. Somehow, you ended up sliding on the floor, Nagi’s arms caging you in on both sides. Your face is on fire, and somehow, you still have a tight grip on your notes. You nod, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his eyes linger on your lips.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Nagi says. He leans in closer, and you squeak, raising your notes to block his lips. His eyes are earnest, gaze fixed solely on you, like you’re the only person in his world.

“Well… that’s not…”

“I can wait for you,” he says quietly, “But you told me not to run away from you. So don’t run away from me, either.” 

Your cheeks are burning. There’s no more excuses left. You had already run out of them, long ago. “You can. But I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you murmur. “Reo is the one with all the experience–”

“Call me by my first name,” Nagi interrupts.

“What?”

“You call Reo by his first name,” he says. “Call me by mine, too. It’s not fair, otherwise.”

“That’s so childish!”

“I’m not moving until you do,” Nagi says stubbornly.

“Fine.” You take a breath. “S… Seishiro. Is that better?”

“Yeah.” His hands grip your wrists gently, the touch sending shockwaves through your entire nervous system.

The notebook flutters to the floor as Nagi leans in to kiss you. Like everything he does seriously, it brims with an intensity that steals your breath away. He tastes sweet, like the candy he snacks on, and you cup his face, pulling him closer. 

When you break apart, Nagi rests his forehead against yours. “It’s a lot of work,” he says, “but I’m thinking of playing football professionally.”

“Really? Wow! You have the talent to pull it off,” you say. “Reo finally convinced you to go pro?”

“You said you liked successful guys,” Nagi says simply. “So I have to work hard to be successful.”

“I did! But Seishiro…” You kiss him again, because he’s just so cute, and murmur against his lips, “Forget about my type. The only guy I like is you.”

[stevebabey]

a piece that alas, will never get finished 😔 the bath fic that was once discussed, half written, and left to rot in my tumblr drafts. i hope u can read the seeds i was planting and see the vision i had even if i never could write it <3

Hot water is, indisputably, a luxury in the Munson household.

Far as Eddie knows, the same goes for the whole damn world.

Hot water is something sacred. Something to be used scarcely, lest you drain the tank and have only cold water to wash your plates and yourself in for the rest of the week.

It's not the worst, but, well, then again Eddie can think of few things worst than needing a shower during the colder winter months when the water splutters out lukewarm and the cold trickles in right when he's in the middle of washing his hair. It sucks. Always sends him to bed with the shivers.

Hell, sometimes he'd even do the mile at school just for a chance to get in the showers first — dashing in for the free hot water that only lasted a good couple minutes.

It was worth it though, Eddie thought.

Both the exercise and the sneers, in exchange for getting to be truly warm for the first time since he'd gotten out of bed that day. Warm showers will do that to you though.

Eddie's heard stories of places, of faraway like Hawaii or somewhere, where it gets so warm that when it rains, the water sometimes rains down already warm. Like a great big shower for the whole place.

He reckons if that ever happened here in the middle of nowhere Indiana, he'd be out dancing in the streets in the warm rain. Soaking it all in. Taking not a single drop for granted.

Steve's house, as Eddie has discovered, has more than one shower — because it's got multiple bathrooms.

In the time he's been hunkered down there, his sides patched up roughly and healing at what feels like a snails pace, Eddie has taken to exploring the empty halls of the Harrington House.

It's... enormous. Gargantuan. Fucking massive.

There's rooms with doors that never open. Rooms that Eddie's never even seen Steve go near. Endless doors and cupboards and an upstairs and downstairs, and far too many garages for one just couple and their son.

Eddie explores them all.

It stems from his boredom, of course, because patient isn’t one of the words used to describe Eddie Munson but restless certainly is.

He wanders aimlessly, under the guise that he needs to keep using the muscles in his legs while he heals up but truthfully, he loves a good snoop.

Soon enough, the driving force of his wandering transforms from boredom to… curiosity.

Steve Harrington has always been an enigma to Eddie.

Upholder of conventional standards and the heterosexual gaze turned, well, loser, in the manner of a couple months- it was jarring to say the least.

Especially to the likes of people like Eddie, for whom he had represented everything wrong with small town Hawkins. Rich meathead jocks who pay their way through school.

Eddie always figured he’d had a fucking mansion of a house but this place… it’s unsettling, seeing so much space, so unlived in.

It’s even more unnerving how Steve just… doesn’t take up space.

Even in his own home. Steve’s bedroom doesn’t sprawl out, it’s not packed with possessions and hobbies like Eddie knows his own is. His wallpaper matches his sheets, picked out by someone who clearly doesn’t know Steve.

Everything is tidy because Steve seems to have this neatness ingrained deep within him. He putters around, on auto pilot sometimes, to keep the space clean for parents who don’t seem to come home.

When Steve's out at work and it's just Eddie, wandering aimlessly to keep the strength in his legs, the loneliness of the place yawns down the halls. Consuming. Suffocating.

He’s found himself eagerly awaiting Steve's arrival home from work, if only to hear someone else's voice other than his own.

Today, Eddie's searching has lead him here— into the master bedroom’s ensuite and they have a goddamn fuckin’ bathtub.

It’s a proper fancy type one with clawed bronze feet and a wide lip, made of sparkling clean marble. The type he might describe for that is a King in a campaign, just to be on the nose about how wealthy and greedy this character was.

He’s so transfixed on it that he doesn’t even hear Steve jimmying his keys into the lock, coming home.

It isn’t until— “Eddie?”

Eddie jumps, startled, as Steve’s hand touches on his shoulder lightly. His goal to not scare the other boy doesn’t go as intended, considering how much Eddie flinches but the moment he turns his head, his face is relaxing.

“Fuck, dude,” He breathes a sigh of relief, lips quirking into a smile. “Didn’t hear you come up.”

Steve shrugs a bit and scratches behind his ear, a bit awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie nods, but his gaze has already shifted back to the tub before them. Steve follows his gaze easily, an easy chuckle passing his lips.

“I see you found the bath.”

“Yeah…” Eddie says, sounding a bit breathless, his voice distant. Steve glances over, trying to understand the strange emotion toying on Eddie’s features. It’s just a bath. Steve hasn’t even been allowed to use it before, sure, but he likes his own shower just fine.

“It was such a bitch to get it in when they first got it,” Steve explains, folding his arms across his chest as he recalls the memory.

He points his finger behind him to the doorway without moving his arm. “Knocked down a whole wall ‘cos they couldn’t get it to through the doorway. To be honest, I’ve always thought it was kind of ugly.”

He’s waiting for Eddie to say something. For the joke, for the sneering comment on his parent’s fortune, for any lippy spiel that usually gets under Steve’s skin in the best way. The longer Eddie stays quiet, the more it begins to worry Steve.

It’s as though Eddie hasn’t even heard him.

Steve clears his throat and tries again, his tone light and delivered with a chuckle. “Man, you’d think you’ve never seen a bath before.”

Eddie’s head snaps toward Steve. He finally breaks his trance, regrettably just to snap at Steve. “I have, thank you very much.”

Steve feels a bit of embarrassment bloom over his cheeks, wanting to backtrack on his poor joke instantly but before he can open his mouth Eddie is already softening, hackles falling. His eyes are back on the bath.

“Just… haven’t even taken one.” He admits softly.

Steve doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what’s going through Eddie’s mind — can’t come close to understanding what forlorn nostalgia is tugging at Eddie’s gut.

“Not really, I don’t think.” He continues. He pauses to think, head tilting back just a bit. “When I was really little, maybe. Little enough to fit in the sink or— or something.”

Eddie seems to realise he’s letting whatever thoughts he’s having drift out of his mouth and promptly snaps his jaw shut, teeth clacking as he does. He doesn’t look at Steve, doesn’t want to see the pity or the sympathy or the—

“Anyways,” Eddie huffs a breath, turning to leave his newfound discovery on the exploration of the Harrington House.

When—

“Do you want to?” Steve asks suddenly. His voice is sincere. “Take one?”

Eddie blinks. Wonders if it’s a joke, that it’s being offered out just so it can snatched away and Steve can laugh at how desperate Eddie is to actually be given this. He has to hastily remind himself that Steve wouldn’t do that to him.

There’s no containing the excitement rushing in his voice when Eddie spits out, “Can I?”

Steve chuckles, an easy smile at the other’s eagerness.

It’s easy to overrun the instinct that’s ingrained deep, not to cross the little rules his parents have scattered through the house — easy because he’s doing it more and more with Eddie here.

They’d eaten off his mom’s expensive and untouched china on the first night Eddie had managed to get up and about to eat downstairs, instead of tucked in bed.

He’d been so keen to help, proclaiming that he’d set the table for the both of them— too excited to be up and moving to remember that he and Steve weren’t usually as buddy-buddy as they were acting.

Steve had soaked in it greedily. Warm brown eyes, saccharine smile, he’s found that Eddie sort of glows when he’s happy. And that giving him good food is one of the ways to stir up that happiness.

But even then, Steve had paused seeing the plates in Eddie’s hands, an instant stone in his throat because he isn’t allowed to use those ones.

Sputtering through a sentence, Steve swallowed the stone and skipped over the rule he’d never broken before. It was worth it for the smile on Eddie’s face.

Just like it’s worth it now. Seeing the awed smile on his face, already a little jittery at the thought of a bath… Steve’s embarrassed to find he can’t really say no to him.

He keeps that to himself though, because if Eddie knew that he’d be batting his eyelashes and making every demand known to Earth. But then again, that didn’t sound so bad either.

Christ, Steve thinks to himself. He’s so screwed.

[liveontelevision]

Redemption Pt.2 | Lucifer x Reader

I'm kind of having a hard time getting motivation to write if anyone has any Luci prompts they wanna drop in my asks 👀

But for now, here's some more angsty fluffy slow burn Luci for y'all

(Check out Redemption Pt.1!)

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It's been an.. awkward... few weeks. You kissed Lucifer. You kissed the king of Hell, who you've known for almost 2 decades, your boss and best friend. If that information didn't overwhelm your brain enough, he's managed to make you doubt Redemption. Still undecided, you began to fear the outcome of just disappearing without getting to make a decision. Without saying goodbye.

Even with your mental disaray, Business went on as usual. You did your routine paperwork and helped out with anything Charlie needed. Lucifer wasn't asking much of you these days. You assumed the best of him. Maybe he was just too busy. Or maybe he was avoiding you. You shook the frightful thought out of your head only to suddenly be hit with the memory of Lucifer looking so lovely with your lipgloss all over his face and neck. Damned man has taken over your entire brain.

Charlie would often ask you to help with touring, partnering in exercises, or helping new residents set up. You didn't really consider how much free time you'd have without seeing Lucifer as much as you usually do. Some days, you did at least walk by him in passing. You would smile at him, maybe say good morning or hello, and he would do the same. Like strangers. His smile was always sweet in the past, but these had a sense of disparity behind them. You couldn't confide in your dearest friend, and your paranoia got the better of when considering going to others. But you needed another opinion.

"Well, shit! Good for you toots! That all tracks, Luci's clearly a bottom." Angel laid on his stomach, kicking his long legs in the air like some gossiping teen. You just needed some advice on redemption, but you ended up spilling out the entire interaction. You sat at his vanity, your arms crossed over your chest. "Angel, please. What do you think about redemption? You've been here longer than anyone, don't you.. worry..? About never seeing anyone here again?" Angel looked down for a moment before swinging his legs around and sitting at the edge of his bed. He pat the spot next to him, and you quickly took a seat by his side. He gripped the edge of his bed and hunched over his torso, propping himself up by his elbows with his upper set of limbs. "Actually? I'm terrified. I've been here for 70s years, kid. This is basically all I know now. I had a family, a buncha siblings, and a whole backstory n shit, but.." He spoke softly, his voice cracking at the mention of his biological family." I barely think of 'em. Even with Val up my ass, I think of this as my home now. Charlie and Vaggie, even Alastor - and.. Husk." He swooned, without even realizing, at his own words." I think you gotta want redemption, babes. Maybe that's why i'm still here. I dunno." He placed a hand on your shoulder and sent a sympathetic smile. The tender care you hadn't received in so long was too much. You sniffled a bit and let your head fall onto his shoulder. "I don't know what to do, Angel... " He rubbed your arm that had traveled around your shoulders as you attempted to slow your shakey brrath.

Lucifer did what he always did when he was stressed. He created. Frustration seemed to be a common inspiration for his.. hobby. He filled his office to the brim with ducks, each with a fun little feature that he came up with spur of the moment. Without acknowledging it, he did leave your desk clear. Like he was waiting for you to suddenly appear there, all neat and tidy. A glimmer of relief in the pool of chaos his life had become. This went on for days.

He was rarely a participant at the bar, alcohol was just another reminder of the wrecklessness that could occur with free will. But fuck, he needed a drink. Making sure it was far too late, to avoid any unexpected interactions, he went down to the lobby. Still looking dishoveled and exhuasted, he prayed that no one would be down there, to see the king of hell looking to get sloshed at 3 in the morning.

To his luck, it was empty. The lights were almost all off, but the lobby was still filled with the red glow of Pentagram city just down the hill. Letting out a sigh of relief, Lucifer steps behind the bar, struggling to read any labels without a set light. That didn't stop him one bit,, randomly taking a bottle and drinking whatever was inside. It didn't taste good, but his head finally seemed to forget your face for a moment. He'll realize how horrifying that felt in the morning.

Looking for another drink that didnt burn his throat, he continued to sort through the drinks without any clear light source. Letting out a frustrated scoff, he flung a handful of golden flames behind him, attempting to light a display of candles that sat at the bar counter for decor.

"Fuck - !"

The sudden voice that came from behind made him drop whatever drink he had in his hand. It shattered, the sound echoing through the cleanliness of the new lobby. He turned his body around way too fast, only managing to focus on your face after a few dizzying moments. You hold onto the top of your arm, a clean burn swiped right across your skin. His eyes were darting across the room, seeing only half of the candles lit, your sudden appearance and newly burned flesh, and a small flame forming on the top of the couch across the room.

Despite his dizzying mind, he snapped his fingers, planning to at least stop the couch from burning the whole place down. In this attempt, he managed to sinch all three flames, the room suddenly being plunged into a darkness that you both had to adjust to. Lucifer's overwhelmed senses made him stumble, clutching onto the edge of the counter and holding his spinning head in his hand. Everything he's felt for the past few weeks and the guilt of causing you any harm finally hit him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck - I'm sorry, i'm sorry..!" He wailed out, almost at the brink of tears. He gasped for air, his chest heavong. He could barely feel your hand brush across his back and start to rub it soothingly. He hitched his breath, doing his best to calm himself from this little attack. You had rounded the bar, your back leaning against the counter. standing at his side, you ran your fingers lightly across his back, starting to trace along his tense muscles. It was the smallest affection, yet he shuttered before feeling his unbalanced body relax, then began to sway in your direction.

"I'm okay, Lucifer..! I-I barely felt it! You're freaking yourself out, just try and - " his body finally hit yours after a stumble, his shoulder falling into your chest and knocking the air from your lungs. You shifted your postion to brace him from behind, his back now flush against your chest as you leaned both of your weight onto the counter.

You did your best to keep a clear mind, but seeing your beloved friend in this state did nothing but make you panic. Your friend.. that's what he'll always be at the end of this. Your friend who you've known since you died, who took you in without ever considering you'd grow this close. Your friend, who's created an incredibly difficult decision for you to make.

"Sweetheart, I'm s-sorry! I never meant to scare you off! I-I'm so scared to lose you - I can't imagine my days without you, love, I need you -" you shushed him, needing to cool your absolutely heated face at his words, but also to keep anyone else from seeing this display. You ushered him to the front of the building and out the front doors.

Despite it being Hell, there was a light breeze that hit the both of you with a relief. Lucifer stumbled onto the nearest wall, finally releasing his face to adjust his eyes to the sudden change of setting.

Blinking slowly, he took in your appearance much longer than anticipated. You wore a comfortable baby blue slip that loosley hung over your figure. He surely wouldve taken the time appreciate your figure if you didnt have a a blanket bunched around your entirety. He did his best to not look disapointed, but failed miserably. You couldnt help but smile at his poor display of affection.

You took a hold onto Lucifer's clammy hands, making him turn redder than he was before from embarrassment. He took a moment to meet your eyes, something he hadnt done in days at this point.

"Come with me?" You spoke so neutrally, a clear tone that seemed to calm his thoughts. He simply nodded, allowing you to lead his staggering body around to the side of the building. It was a bit of a hike, but the brisk air and the movement seemed to settle Lucifer's high. That being said, he still kept his arm around your shoulders for balance.

Upon arrival, the sight was enough to startle him, a small walkthrough garden sprouting from the side of the building. It was lush with Hell's native fiolage, flowers and vines with dangerous looking thorns and teeth growing from them. The purples and reds growing from the fenced off border and the small iron table and bench that sat in the center just underneath an arch with flowers intermingled, it all looked so innocent.

"Wh-hhow.. what is this?" He managed to ask, looking over at you as you continued to lead him through the garden.  "I'm actually not sure. I don't remember seeing it in any blueprints when we redid the hotel, but i went for a walk and saw it here. Someone else must've put it together." You weren't sure if he was able to process that information, but you led him to sit on the bench with a thud. His body fell limp, hitting his head on the back of the frame with a ting.

You simply sat beside him for a moment in a bliss silence. It was comforting, despite all the previously chaos the two of you just went through.

"I should be scoldering you, sir. You haven't been drunk in years and last time you did - "

"Lillith. It was after she left, I know.." you only meant to call out how poorly he handled his liquor in the past, but it made your heart ache hearing him make that connection.

You let out an awkward agreement and continued to sit in silence for another moment longer. Lucifer finally let his head fall onto your shoulder and a sigh of relief escaped his lips, as you felt the heat coming off of his body.

"How'd you find this place? It's nice." He said softly, his voice raspy and wavering." I've been using it to escape.. to think." You said in an equally soft tone, unsure of his mental state at this point. You discovered this little hidden gem while desperately looking for air, struggling through one of your own panic attacks. Once you saw it the first time, it almost became a nightly routine. The walk to it was always clear from other demons, and passing Lucifer's giant pentagram in front of the hotel gave you a sense of comfort and protection. You felt him shift slightly, he pulled the blanket away from your arm and held it up lightly to inspect the burn that you had nearly forgotten about. His hands flinched for a moment, letting out a quiet hiss. He could've simply snapped his fingers or waited for your demonic body to heal itself, but instead he lightly ran his thumb across the entirety of the wound. As he pressed into your arm, you noticed the burn mark simply disapear behind his hands. You let out a satisified hum. It was always so interesting to see him use his powers, you rarely got to see him in action.

"I think - to be redeemed, you have to accept it. To be absolutely sure it's what you want. That's what angel thinks, at least." You wanted to ask why he was out of his room at three in the morning, getting drunk and why he was avoiding you for days. But you knew why.

"I still don't really know, Lucifer. I don't know what I want.. but I need you right now. I can't lose you because of t-this.." You admitted, your voice cracking slightly at your own words.

You fretted this conversation. You worried about how he would react to any answer that wasn't I'm staying with you forever! Forget redemption!

As your breath began to pick up, you watched lucifer stand, his back facing you for a moment. It made your heart drop, rushing to the conclusion that he'd leave you there alone. To your surpise, he makes a smooth motion of turning to sit in front of you on the ground, holding gently onto your calf that he pulled from the blanket. You jumped at the small touch. Turning beat red, your mind inappropriately jumped to conclusions.

"U-Uhm - Lucifer.." you called out his name as if you had any idea what to say in this moment, with him at your knees holding you so tenderly.

"You've done so much for me, love." He planted a small kiss right below your knee. "I promise I'll do anything in my power to keep you happy and safe while you're in Hell." He paused in between words, to move his small kisses up your leg." No matter how long that will be."

He's much bolder with drinks, you thought. That aside, you couldn't help but feel small tears well up in your eyes, a combination of relief and embarrasment washing over you. "Really..?" You asked so quietly, it was as if you were still worried about the answer.

He nodded with a sleepy smile, resting his head on your knee. In need of any type of comfort, you carefuly reached for his head, brushing your fingers through his dishoveled locks. He shut his eyes, letting out a sweet purr at every touch. What a strange effect he had on you. Your heart was racing, yet its mever felt lighter. Your mind, still full of dreaded thoughts, only occupied his relaxed expression in this moment. Your face was red with embarrassment of this treatment, but you were ready to beg him to keep touching you this way.

You placed your finger under Lucifer's chin and guided him upwards, making him stretch to his knees and place both his hands on either side of you. You hesitated in front of his lips for a moment. His breath was so steady, and feeling the pulse through his throat, his heart seemed to beat much slower than yours in this moment. You gulped, more nervous than before, before meeting his lips with yours. Your kiss was tender, yet it hinted at a longing for something more. He decided to take the lead, compared to last time, his hands moving up to cup your cheeks and wipe any of the wet streaks that had stained your skin previously.

Tilting his head to invite himself into your mouth, your breath hitched at the energy he seemed to eminate. He stands for a moment, then places a knee beside you, moving his hands to either side of you and caging you in by holding onto the back of the bench. This upper hand that he suddenly had made you squirm a bit, letting out a nervous yelp into his lips. You felt his smile at the sound of your voice, making you turn impossibly red. After pulling away for air that you didnt realize you needed until then, he pressed his forehead against yours and let out a sweet hum.

As he went back in for more, the breath that hit your lips reaked of alcohol. That was enough to snap you back into reality. As he reached down, you planted your hands firmly on his chest, a serious intent, even with your eyes being glazed over as much as they were. "Come to bed with me, Luci. Just to sleep, alright? It's been a long night." You said softly, running your hands up and down his curves despite your intentions of not taking advantage of him any more than you've already done. You felt his skin crawl, his breath finally speeding a bit, a more nervous side of him that you were used to coming out. Maybe it was the idea of sleeping beside you, or him overthinking the invitation. Or maybe the newfound nickname was just too much for his drunken mind to handle. He quickly nods, making you pull the blanket back up around your shoulders and lead Lucifer back inside.

○○○

You take him into his bedroom, which you've rarily seen since you moved to the hotel. It wasnt as large and regal as the one in his previous residency, but it still was much grander compared to yours. His colour scheme matched the rest if the hotel, rich reds and purples. Most of the room was filled with the bed that sat on a slightly elevated platform and hit the cieling with a canopy that adorned silky drapes. A bed truly fit for a king, was unmade and unkept. Blankets were thrown about and the pillows were scattered in various places. The room was slightly cluttered, a few stray ducks that you recognized from his office making their way into his room like muddy footprints.

Lucifer stumbled his way into his room, immediately pulling his shirt off over his head, letting out a groan and letting his body cool down as he started to remove his boots. You couldn't help but stare, no matter how hard you tried to avoid it. You turned your body to the side, covering your eyes with the side of your hand. You manuevered your way around him and plopped onto the edge of the bed. You nearly sunk in with how plush the blanketing and mattress was. Still keeping your head lowered to avoid peeking, you curled up into your own blanket.

Feeling the mattress barely shift, you quicklly looked up to see Lucifer crawling his way towards the head of the bed. He barely changed, just managing to throw on a more casual pair of pants that you recognized seeing on the floor when you first walked in. His still bare chest left you abolutely flustered. His porcelain skin had shifted to a pink hue where he had gotten too cold. He immediately pulled his large blankets over his body and relaxed to the point where you assumed he had fallen asleep immediately. You listened to his steady breath for a moment, a comfortable silence in your mind, then rose to your feet, ready to shuffle out of the room.

"Noo, come back - " he groaned. It wasnt intimate or distressed, he sounded like a damned child. You rolled your eyes, unconciously smiling and crawling a comfortable distance from him on the other side of the bed, an easy task considering the size of it. You thought it best to keep your hands to yourself, so you curled up into the blankets with a comfortable wiggle to situate yourself.

Lucifer slightly opened his half lidded eyes, seeing you coccooned in his blankets, nuzzling your head into his pillows. He would pray for this to be the last and first thing he saw everyday. He closed the distance, pulling you into his chest and intertwining your legs in an attempt to be closer. His skin was incredibly soft, smooth and still warm to the touch under your cold hands that snaked around his waist. You felt him nuzzling your head, taking in a deep breath and resting his chin atop it. How was he so calm right now? This is a completely different side of Lucifer that you've yet to see. And certainly werent expecting to see any time soon.

This is fine. You'll wait until he's in a deeper sleep and leave before anyone else wakes up! Easy peasy. You just wanted him to get to bed after all.

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