#sudden inspo to draw him older

[honeyxmonkey]

18 yr old Camp Counselor Harley

The older he gets the more he looks like his dad (Oldos)

[okanadafreakingfan]

Teach me to laugh again

Buggy X reader

Part 1

So this started as me writing out my OCs backstory but I’ve changed the POV so that it can be read as a reader insert. Currently it’s all angst and fluff cause they are children in this, after the flashback I’ll see about more mature themes :)

Let me know if you’d like to see more of this, title help me with inspo <33

Everything was cold. Whether it was the golden collar around your neck, or the chains shacked to your ankles, hidden beneath a long skirt, keeping you from running away, that made you feel this way. Or maybe it’s from the general lack of warmth in your life, since the day you ate that damn devil fruit. You only ate it 3 years ago, the day you turned 7. You were only a child. You still are a child, but it doesn’t feel like it. You feel like you’ve had you childhood stripped from you, had to grow up so fast, to mature in this new, unloving environment.

You ate it by accident, almost dying from hunger on the streets you resorted to stealing. it was the only food in reach, it was a bit odd, blue and swirly, but at the time you just assumed it was from the other side of the grand line, maybe even the red line, as that specific market was full of odd fascinations from many different places. You ate the odd fruit thinking nothing of the distastefulness of it, your mind was solely on survival. However, the person who set up the shop caught you around the corner, dragged you by the elbow and chained you to the shop stall. He said that you will have to earn that fruit with your life, and that he now owned you for your trespasses.

He chained you up and made you perform, after finding out that you had eaten a sing-song devil fruit, allowing you the power of voice, and a beautiful, alluring singing voice that was very profitable for the man that now owns you.

And so now here you are, ten years old, sitting on a wooden plank that substitutes as your bed, staring at the wall. You have no dreams, no aspirations. You barely remember the person you were before everything went downhill. can’t even remember the faces of your family.

Did i even have a family?

Oh well it doesn’t matter now. What good will thinking do me. I’m an object, a simple attraction that people pay to watch perform, a designated child prodigy,but no one knows the reason for your amazing voice is simply the effects of a Devil fruit.

all of a sudden your world crashes around you as the entire building shakes. The place is built near the shore, so it’s very likely to have been a cannon ball, pirates were attacking.

The wealth that has been wracked up by the establishment must have made its way to the pirates ears. Your eyes finally leave the wall as another loud bang goes off and the building shakes, there are no windows in the room your kept in, there’s no way of knowing what’s going on out there. Shouting and the sound of things being broken is all that can be heard. Footsteps coming closer and closer.

Drawing your legs close to your chest, tears start to form at the corners of your eyes. Although this is a horrible life to live, it’s the only life you’ve known, other than starving on the streets that is. You don’t want it to all be stripped from you once again, anything but that. And pirates were sure to be worse than any treatment you have gotten here.

The door to your so-called room suddenly gets bashed in, an older man with a prominent black mustache looks in and seems surprised to see you here. Next to him are two boys around my age, one with red hair and a straw hat, and the other with blue hair and a prominent red nose. You look at them for a moment. The older man (you later find out to be Gol D. Roger) steps forward to see if the key he has on him fits in the keyhole on the gold collar strapped to your neck. It doesn’t and he lets out a slightly annoyed sigh.

“Buggy, try get this lock picked,” he tosses him a thin lock picking tool “I’ll continue to look around, shanks with me” he orders that last part as he turns his heel to leave the room.

Buggy looks annoyed at this and grumbles something you can’t quite make out before sitting beside you to try pry off the collar.

“I’m buggy” he huffs, apparently not liking how silent you were being.

“Y/n” you whisper back, voice slightly horse from un use. You haven’t spoken a word in the past three days.

“Pfft” he chuckles as he continues to work at the lock.

“What?” You tilt your head, confused. He thinks you look sadly adorable with such a blank expression but such inquisitive eyes.

“It’s just the way your looking at me, it’s funny is all… uhh not that It’s a bad thing, or anything,” He curses at himself, he doesn’t want to make her think he’s a mean person, it seems like she’s got enough of that already from the looks of things. She was scarily thin though, and definitely looked too pale for comfort. Finally the clasp to the collar unlocked and the chain fell from it just as the building began to shake again, the walls crumbling slightly from pressure. They needed to get out of here quick.

“Comeone lets go” he says quickly, standing up and yanking you up with him. The chains around your feet clang at the movement. he, only now noticing them, lets put an audible groan as he tries to pry them off.

“Just take the gold collar and go, it’s more valuable than I am” you say, barely above a whisper.

Buggy just stares at you, not believing what just came out of your mouth.

“Do you think we’re just trying to get your gold off you!?” He yells, genuinely worried that that’s actually what you think is happening.

You simply give a small nod, what else would pirates want from you? In your mind You would have no other value to them.

“No! We’re getting you out of here, whether you like it or not, I am gonna save you and your gonna thank me” he shouts this, like a promise. The way you look at him makes something inside him break. The light in your eyes looks like it’s been dimmed a long time ago, and a part of him just wants to make you happy again, to see you laugh. And most of all, to see you away from this hellhole, and safe with him.

[ambimakesarts]

DIASOMNIA CHAPTER GOT ME THINKING

Also drawing takes long and I just wanna talk. And for those are EN only and don't want any spoilery talk I'll put my ramblings under the cut so you may ignore wild spoilers.

First I'd like to point out that Lilia doesn't seem to have an older looking form in the past so I was right all along that Lilia is a short faery man. Like did you see that silhouette? He's been that short for centuries!

Anyway that aside, I'm very 50/50 on the whole "Is Lilia faking his death, or is his past catching up to him quicker than he expected? Cuz Sebek mentioned that Lilia's old weapon is made of a special material that can change size, so I'm thinking Lilia's old fighting style involed him using his Unique magic so much that someone was like "you're gonna die or overblot if you keep fighting like that" so he switched up his style to be more advantageous to his naturally small size. I feel like that could explain this sudden "Lilia is losing his magic and dying thing" cuz like if fae are mostly made of magic and it takes them long to die without an outside force killing them then I guess a fae that dies of old age is just a fae who's used up all their magic, and if Lilia used to be extremely reckless in the past then it could explain why this sprung up so suddenly. Cuz unlike Idia, Ortho, and Silver, Lilia had zero hints about his status other than complaining about back pain, barely, also no one is able to tell if he's joking or not, so who's to say we were just not paying attention enough to Lilia's actual situation. Then again it still does feel sudden even if we had subtle hints that Lilia is very old, but he has so much energy it's hard to believe that he's fragile, probably cuz Lilia was ignoring it for Malleus' sake and finally decided that Malleus needs to learn how deal with loss so he's just dramatizing his death a bit? Like I don't think he's lying, but I also think he could be using this situation to help teach Malleus a type of life lesson he was putting off for way too long. At least that's my theory on Lilia for now.

I'm also wondering about Silver's origins, and if Lilia was the one that took Silver from his family. He says the ring belongs to Silver, what importance does this ring have to Silver's origins? Does it have dream powers? Is it the key to figuring out Silver's mysterious sleep spells? Was Silver from a human kingdom that was taken over by the Briar Valley and Silver was the only survivor so Lilia took him and his family ring? But like why? I'm also wondering if Silver is a direct descendent of Aurora and Philip. We know Idia is possibly a direct descendent of Hades based on his family curse, since he explains it in a way that sounds closer to what actually happened to Hades in the Hercules movie.

Which leads me into in another thing I've been thinking about, what if the students that overbloted are decendents of the Great Seven? I do remember seeing a translated bit from an interview with Yana were she was talking about the early development of the game and that the original plan for the SSR's was to have the characters with the Disney villains they took inspo from. So I'm wondering if the whole "Crowley is forcing overblots" theory that's been going around might have merit to it. That could explain why characters like Leona and Vil ended up overblotting even though they tend to be very level headed, but Crowley set up an environment that would cuz them to overblot.

"But what about Idia and Ortho that didn't happen in NRC?" HEAR ME OUT I GOT A THEORY! What if Crowley wanted to get STYX involved cuz he needed the Shrouds to merge with the overblot of their ancestor directly cuz of the Shroud family curse preventing Idia from overblotting like the others, so when Ortho started hacking STYX and got Idia to join him in this uprising in the facility, so long as Idia and Grim were involved and had contact with the blot then his plans could be full-filled? Cuz looking back, I'm still wondering WHO WAS CALLING ORTHO TO THE TARTARUS GATE? I don't think it was the real Ortho, the real Ortho shows up when Idia was separated from the blot and was telling Idia to continue living for the both of them, so like WHO WAS CALLING ROBOT ORTHO?!?!

But why would Crowley want to cuz these overblots? Maybe because he's planning something that involves wanting to bring back the Great Seven? What if Maleficent and Hades are the only two of the Great Seven who are still around unlike the others who lived so long ago and are just mortal beings (and Jafar's lamp was destroyed in the sequel). Maybe Grim is the key to Crowley's plan? Maybe it's Crowley who's going to allow Malleus to cause some kind of timeloop? We know Malleus is capable of stopping time, and we know his emotions tend to effect the weather around him, so like maybe Malleus is going freeze NRC not just in time but also literally freeze the area surrounding the campus cuz he doesn't want to be alone, and Crowley might just let it happen.

Cuz Crowley probably knows more than he lets on, after all Maleficent and the Evil Queen had pet crows, so he could be working for someone who wants these overblots to happen.

Well, that's enough of my theory/prediction rambling. I patiently wait for the rest of the chapter to unfold and give me more questions and answers.

[little-caeruleum-blog]

WRITING REQUESTS ARE OPEN

I’m opening requests for LMK users to send my ideas for fanfics or headcanons! Here are my set of rules: 

1. I will not do any NSFW topics (ex. anything sexual, like succubus or incubus!readers)

2. I will not do any proships (MK x SWK, MK x Pigsy, MK x Tang, MK x Jin or Yin, MK x MK clones, and MK x Macaque, same with Red Son and Mei x Any Demons/other older adults)

3. I am open to doing any x Readers so long as they are on this list: Pigsy, Tang, Macaque, SWK, Sandy, DBK (maybe idk), Red Son, Mei, and MK

4. I am also open to doing any pair ships (Chimera, Freenoodles, Dragonfruit, Spicynoodles, Shadowpeach, etc)

5. DETAILS, DETAILS, DETAILS!! I need some details for the requests in order to have some visual idea of how the story/outline/headcanon goes. It’ll help me a lot also if I decided to add some drawings to the requests once it’s being fulfilled.

6. I will probably do at least 2-3 requests every other weekend, most likely Sundays.

7. I have some “How Do LMK Characters React To...” that I’m working on but ya’ll can still give me some ideas for it! I’ll do: MK, Tang, SWK, Macaque, Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, Mei, and Red Son! It’s all X Reader’s too!

8. Asks for my LMK! Au’s will be open! It was a scrapped idea but a few friends of mine will help me and some inspo along the way :D Thank you!

LMK! AU “Full Not Disclosure”- A Domino Effect AU that takes place in at the end of the season 3 Specials. MK decides that the responsibility of being the successor was too much for him. Though he loved Wukong and the others, he felt that after the battle between him and LBD, he was not worthy of the title. He needs to find himself and see if he was worth it or not. Even if it meant leaving the others behind. With his staff and the notes he left for his family, he ventured off to train alone and find out who he was. Along his way, he meets old enemies of Wukong pass and together, they help MK towards his pathway of self-worth.

LMK! AU “The Jade Bull Princess”- Although Princess Iron Fan is the Demon Bull King beloved wife, he could not help but take on a second wife; the Jade Fox Princess. Together, the newly wedded couple had a child together, the Jade Bull Princess, or otherwise known as Jingyi. Princess Iron Fan and Red Son were not happy by this sudden newcomer, especially when Jade Bull Princess comes to live with them after her mother sudden disappearance. Though the young princess seems sweet, she hides a devious plan behind her sweet smile. Jingyi hopes to find some new familial love with her step-family and perhaps cause some chaos along the way.

[mariamermaid]

The Queens Gambit

Ron Weasley x fem reader

Summary: Ron had been waiting for weeks for the upcoming chess tournament in London, but what if his title is endangered by a rookie…

Words: 4k

A/N: I think it´s pretty obvious where I got the inspo from, but in case you haven´t watched the show; I can highly recommend it! (That doesn´t mean you have to watch the show before reading though) I decided to add a few more characters from the HP fandom to make the story a little more entertaining. It´s basically like a little alternate universe story (but not really??)

  “Do you have a clock?”

You shook your head as you filled out the form with your name and other information. It was your first tournament and as much as you were excited on the inside, you kept a cool exterior. In reality, your heart was pounding against your chest. You had counted the days to this precious Saturday midmorning.

“If you´re opponent doesn´t have one, we´ll loan you one. Play starts in 20 minutes”, the boy in front of you nonchalantly explained. He was tall, but his slack figure was loosely positioned on the wooden chair. His teeth were a little crooked and he barely looked up to eye you any further. “What´s your rating?”

You glanced up from the paper in your hand, furrowing your brows. “My rating? I don´t have a rating.”

“Have you ever played in a tournament before?”

“No.” Your voice was steady, but a slight annoyance grew as the rules of the tournament seemed to have decided to play against you.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Starring directly at the boy, merely a man, in front of you, you nodded. Then you handed the paper back to him. “I´m sure.”

“Then I put you in beginners”, he sighed and shrugged.

“I´m not a beginner���, you argued, but apparently, that didn´t change anything. “Doesn´t matter, if you´re an unrated player, you go in beginners and people with ratings under 1600.”

A pause fell from your lips, clearly Merlin didn´t want you playing against actual contenders.

“Is it against any rule for me to play in the Open?” The boy with dark short hair seemed taken back by your sudden and quick answers, and he stuttered when answering. Maybe it was your confidence that startled him, maybe it was the pure attendance of a female.

“Not… Not exactly.”

“Then put me in the open.”

“There are three guys with over 1800 and Weasley might show up, you have no chance.”

You didn´t answer, leaving him sitting behind the desk. You weren´t sure, if he meant to spare you with good will, or simply feared that an irascible woman could ruin the tournament.

Neville Longbottom, looked at the paper handed to him and read out the name. “Y/n Y/L/N.”

When entering the hall, that was used for all kinds of events when booked, very few decorations fell into your eye. A few flags with symbols of schools or teams and a few goblets. Pieces of sports equipment were pushed to the sides for space. The tables, all fairly small with enough space for the chessboards, were placed induvial throughout the room. Boys, mostly around your age and older were talking to each other, while other´s sat down to study their strategies. At the back was a partitioning, that’s where the big players gamed.

 Another boy, he seemed to be around your age with dark hair and round glasses joined you in eyeing the scene.

“Are the matches played random?”, you asked him quietly without looking away from the tables. You hoped for no unwanted attention, which was easier said than done. Especially giving the fact, that you were one out of two girls.

“No, they match it by ratings on their first round. After that winner play winners and losers play losers.” The boy answered. He seemed calm about his presence as well as his answer. He had clearly played before in tournaments. You nodded understanding, before walking to the first table assigned to you.

The second girl other than you, was sitting to your opposite.

You starred at the clock at the side of the chess board, you had never played with a clock. It annoyed you deeply that it made you look like a beginner. You were good and you were planning to win. The girl, black shoulder length hair and almond shaped eyes, noticed your look and offered you a polite smile.

“I´m Cho Chang. Each player has 90 minutes, after you move, you press the button closest to you. Then it´s your opponent’s turn.”

You didn´t want to talk much, you were there to play, but you appreciated her explanation. Then your eyes traveled through the room, just to find Cho´s again.

“Why do they put the girls together?”

“They´re not supposed to, but if you win, they´ll move you up. Have you ever played in a tournament?”

You shook your head slightly. “No.”

But she simply shrugged. “I´m sure you´ll do fine.”

“What about Ron Weasley, is he coming today?” Oh, the king of chess, at least currently.

You had read about him, his matches from his first years at Hogwarts. Even Dumbledore himself had praised him and the daily prophet had written multiple articles about him. You had studied his games, over and over. It was him, who you wanted to play.

“Yeah, he has to defend his title.”

 After 20 minutes, Neville heard light steps approaching. Only seconds after, he found you standing in front of him again. “What do I do with this?” You hold up the paper from your match. It took every bit of effort to hide your happiness, the first game had taken a lot of weight off your shoulders. After beating Cho, you were more determined than ever.

“Is your match already over?”

“Yes, I won”, you shrugged.

“That was fast, circle your name and drop in the basket”, he muttered and you did as said. Neville starred at the spot where you had previously stood; something tingled in his senses. Maybe you would actually get a chance to prove yourself to the higher players.

 You snuck through the rows of players still starring at their boards until reaching the dividers. Clearly, you were fast, faster than most of them, which gave you time to study the room further. But the interesting part was happening behind the dividers. You paused for second, before deciding to enter. Around the table was a group of people watching, within the crowd, the boy from before with the round glasses. It was your turn to join his side and watch the two seated players. By the red hair, you could easily make out Ronald Weasley himself. His green eyes were pierced on the board as he chewed on his lips. You had seen several pictures of him in the newspaper, but seeing him in person? It was a new excitement rushing through your veins.

“Is he a Grandmaster?”, you asked the dark-haired boy to your left. Curiosity had always been in your nature, it even more so, got you into trouble.

“He´s working on it, it takes time. You have to play a grandmaster to become one.”

“How much time?”

“Do you mind?”, Ron turned from the game, eyeing you with caginess. His green eyes pierced right through yours and you pressed your lips to a thin line, looking to the floor with guilt. Internally, you cursed at yourself, but the smallest part showed a weird reaction; Ron Weasley had taken notice of you. Not in the way you wanted, but maybe he´d remember you. Slowly, they all focused back on the game.

Weasley´s opponent, Blaise Zabini, had his arms crossed in front of the board. “Draw?”

Ron shook his head, he wasn´t cruel. However, the victory was too close and too easy for him. “No.”

Zabini sighed, watching as Ron´s Queen moved on the board to shatter his king. The art of wizard chess remained aggressively; how queens and rooks smashed and destroyed kings and pawns. It was fascinating to you.

Weasley clapped at his own win, just like the crowd, a smirk back on his lips. “Yes!”

The group around you echoed in further applause and you couldn´t help but feel a smile. The two of them shook hands, before Zabini took off in defeat. He tried his best not to show his disappointment and anger. Ron watched his tall figure leave through the crowd, until his eyes landed back on you. You felt a blush rushing into your cheeks. Did you said he´d remember you? He probably despised you already.

Avoiding his glance again, knowing you had already attracted unwanted attention, you swallowed. Ron on the other hand just realized the pretty girl, who had watched him…

 The minutes and hours took by and one after one player was defeated by you. Oh, how you loved winning. Some might decline it as a weakness, but it was the drive that kept you going.

“That´s check”, you explained after successfully beating another man. He adjusted his hair, feeling clearly uncomfortable. You on the other hand, had found your safe zone.

“I know what it is”, he then replaced his Queen, which rose from her throne, before making her way to the newly assigned field. But you had already figured out his move and even more so, your own win.

“Draw?” He asked, nervously tapping with his pencil. You had placed your head on top of your hands, watching him closely. You shook your head.

“I resign”, he admitted.

 “Dinner break, then three more rounds. Final round on Sunday 11a.m.”; Neville explained, while the players had gathered outside the hall to either chitchat or look at the charts of the past games. You eyed the chart; you had won four games already. Two games were listed above you, the next one was against Harry Potter. You furrowed your brows. “You said there were three people with ratings higher than 1800!”

Neville, the boy of drossy posture and crocked teeth, looked up from the papers. He had already guessed that you would complain. “Yes, that´s right.”

“I thought I´d be playing one of them.” Neville sighed, his love for chess, organization of tournaments and the clear instructed rules, were a little thwarted by you. “You don´t have a rating, consider yourself lucky.”

“How do I get a rating?”

“You play 30 games in the USCF tournaments and then wait four months.”

“But that’s too long! I want to play Weasley”, you exclaimed. The calculations in your head were fast and no matter how you turned it, time was your enemy. “If you win your next three games and if he does the same…”

“I will.”

 Annoyed, you stepped back into the hall. You were ambitious to win. It was all you had and the potential price money lurked you even more. At home, nothing but your mother waited for you. Money had always been a big concern, she wasn´t even able to afford for you to go to Hogwarts. Everything you knew about magic; she had taught you.  She worked two jobs to make enough money for food and rent and while she cleaned motel rooms, one of the guests that often stayed at the motel, taught you to play wizard chess; Mr. Lupin was an amazing teacher…

 At the table of your next tournament, you found the dark-haired boy with round glasses. He awaited you and smiled as you finally sat down. “I´m Harry, Harry Potter.”

Besides your prior encounter, you had seen him talking to Ron Weasley and a small wave of exhilaration rose inside you. He and Weasley seemed close friends. “Y/n, Y/L/N.”

The game started with innocent moves from pawns. In between, Harry glanced up to you, checking. But you were sure of what you were doing. Minutes passed into the game and Harry started realizing that you were better than him, he didn´t show it yet, but he was well aware. Nevertheless, he was enjoying an exquisite game of chess.

You took his queen nonchalantly, which fell off the board in debris, and nervously licking his lips, he wrote down new notes on his notepad, before making his move. Your turn again, the rook.

Harry folded his hands, starring at the game. He pondered how to get out. After more minutes passing, a few people even started to watch you. They stood in the background, far enough to not make it conspicuous, but close enough for you to notice.

You moved your king and Harry sighed. “Merlin, Y/n, you´re humiliating my rook.”

“You won´t have to suffer much longer.”

Yes, you had it all played out in your head. Your win was safe and secure.

A smile was on your lips. Two further moves, and it was done.

He stretched out his hand in defeat and you took it. “Good game, you´re very talented.”

You shrugged as if it didn´t matter, but it did. To you it did. “You really are something.”

Saturday came to an end; you had won every single game. With your head tilted high, you stepped out the building. Fresh air flowed through your lunges and you took a deep breath. Suddenly voices echoed from your right; a few steps away Harry was talking to Ron Weasley. They chuckled in ease as they continued to make conversation. Ron´s back was turned into your direction, but Harry quickly noticed you.

“Hey Y/N! You played well today; do you want to grab a butterbeer with us?”

A bitter taste spread on your mouth; you had never even tried butterbeer. But all your savings had gone into the fee of the tournament and you already expected a long lecture when coming home. You shook your head with a polite smile on your lips. “Sorry, I have to get home.”

The two boys watched as you left, silence between them.

“She´s good, better than all the other girl´s I´ve seen”, Harry added and his friend rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Harry, just because she beat you, doesn´t mean she´s some kind of unknown genius. She doesn’t even have a rating.”

Harry shrugged innocently. “Whatever you say, but be careful, maybe she´ll even beat you.”

Ron echoed in laughter as he playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “As if!”

 Sunday came, Ronald Weasley was late.

“Mom, have you seen my shoes?”

“Ronald, if you just once tidied up you might find them at the right place!”

Ron wasn´t nervous, but as so often, he was running late. With the annual tournament of wizard chess, he was ready to defend his title as current state champion.

Finally, the shoes had been next to the dishwasher (probably Fred´s and George´s play), he threw over his jacket and made his way to the fire place. “Mom, I´m leaving.”

Molly Weasley, who always knew where every single one of her children was, came hurrying down the stairs. With swift motions she brushed away dirt from Ron´s jacket and then started fidgeting around with his red hair. “Mom!”, Ron instructed his mother to stop and hurried towards the fireplace. He took the floo powder and rolled his eyes as Molly started wiping away a tear.

“There goes my champion!”

 You sat at the table, the same table where Ron had previously won against Zabini, waiting and growing impatiently. People around you waited as well. You couldn´t help but feel a deeper reluctance towards the conceited champion. Finally, you flinched as the door opened.

“Sorry, took a butterbeer on the go”, Ron added and held his cup high to show his evidence. You wanted to let out a sigh and roll your eyes, but you resisted to do so.

He took another sip before stretching out his hand.

“Ron Weasley, what´s your name?” Quickly, you shook his hand. Ron knew your name, Harry had told him, but he asked nevertheless. It was a rude tactic to make you feel smaller against him. You on the other hand wanted to begin, not waste more time. “Y/N, Y/L/N.”

He nodded acknowledging and the game started.

Five minutes into the game, he yawned.

It drove you insane. Did he do it on purpose? To make you lose focus? Or was he as underwhelmingly annoying?

He played confidential, not even thinking he could lose. It didn´t even take seconds for him to plant his moves. It intimated you and no matter how hard you tried not to show, the second yawn as you moved the pawn, did bring you to a slight stumble. Neville as well as Harry stood in the audience watching.

You felt sweat forming on your neck and cleavage, and strain pushed against your temples.

“I´ll be right back.” You jumped off your seat and hurried into the bathroom, leaving behind their confused faces.

Cold water ran down your hands and you placed the refreshing cool on your cheeks and neck.

Your eyes were pinned in the mirror, starring angrily at yourself. Running away from the game felt like an embarrassment enough, you weren´t ready to lose.

“Come on, you can beat him.”

Slowly, your stare wandered towards the ceiling. The chess board appeared out of your imagination and the figures stood tall, just like you had left them behind. Then, they started moving and each time you found yourself in an inescapable path, they pulled back into their initial position. Until…

 As you sat down, you were steadier as before. It surprised Ron a little and he watched as you moved your knight to take out one of his pawns. His rook then took your knight and you followed by replacing your pawn. On and on. The game continued. You were dangerously calm and as you placed the bishop down, you watched his face closely.

Ever so slightly, Ron shook his head and the glint in his eyes vanished. Harry in the crowd had the smallest hint of a smile.

“For Merlin´s sake”, Ron muttered and his hand pushed back his ginger hair.

“I think that´s it.” Your tranquil voice didn´t help him at all, but it gave you the confirmation you had hoped for.

“No, I can get out of this.”

“I don´t think so.” Then you tilted your head to side, completely deserted. “Maybe, if you had gotten here on time.”

Ron´s green eyes pierced into yours, then back on the board. Oh, time could be a cruel opponent and right now, he was losing. He took another move, not wanting to admit it yet, but you sighed sounding bored and exhausted.

“It doesn´t work, I don´t have to use the Queen.”

It didn´t matter to him. This was now more and ever about his ego. “I´ll just cover it with the bishop and-“

“Move.” His voice was low and unlike his usual character, deadly serious. Harry had never seen his friend in such a situation and even though he found it alarming, what a terrible loser Ron was, he was happy for you. You deserved it.

You did as said, covering your queen, while his rook took one of your pawns. It didn´t help, all it was, was a desperate cry. Your rook moved right next to his King, which he placed further away, but then your queen came along.

“Do you see it now? Or should we finish this on the board?”

In disbelief, he shook his head once again. But this time, his eyes found yours in an amazing gaze. “For Merlin´s sake.”

The King was destroyed by the Queen. You had won.

The people around you echoed with applause and Ron clapped as well, gentle smiling.

It was useless denying it further, you had beaten him fair and square. Harry had been right, you were good and better than Ron.

He lifted himself off his seat and shook hands with you, a reassuring smile on his lips.

For the first time on this day, you could smile as well. All the worries and the lecture that lasted till late in the evening, had been worth it.

You defeated the state champion and you won the prize money.

 “Y/n?”

You had planned to go home, your mother would be enthusiastic about the money, but Ron´s voice held you back. You were outside in the hall, hand already on the railing to the staircase leading outside.

“Do you want to grab a butterbeer with me now?” He sensed your hesitation and quickly spoke up again. “Don´t worry, I´ll pay. I guess I owe it to you”, Ron shrugged and pushed his hands nervously deeper into the pockets of his brown pants. He looked different than when seated behind the chess board, taller but less comfortable as well.

“I´m not sure…”

“Come on, you can´t leave me hanging like this after taking my title.”

A small chuckle escaped your lips and Ron noticed how well it suited your face. While playing chess and debating over strategies, there wasn´t much time to give away polite smiles or studying your opponent’s traits.

You couldn´t help, but feel how the reluctance towards Ron disappeared. He sighed relieved as you nodded agreeing.

The bar was only a few streets away, a side alley and the entrance to the magical ambience was hidden. The door opened as the front side to a large dumpster and lead a few steps down into the pub. It was cozy and due to the early time on a Sunday afternoon, still fairly empty. The bartender nodded towards Ron, they seemed to know each other.

“Two butterbeers, Dean.”

Together you sat down in niche to the side, a few plants hung from the ceiling and blankets and pillows laid on the armchairs in between. Chill jazz music played in the background and a house elf washed up used glasses. You imagined how the room was filled with people in the evenings.

“So, you never played in a tournament before and yet you beat the state champion?”

Ron was curious, which was understandable and you blushed at his question.

“A friend of my mom taught me how to play chess.”

“Really? He must know a lot about it, I imagine.”

“Yeah, and he gave me many books about openings and strategies.”

“I never saw you playing in the school tournaments, when did you start?”

You avoided his glance, starring down at the butterbeer Dean just brought to your table. The yellowish, sweet smelling liquid with soft foam on top.

“I don´t play for a school team”, you admitted quietly. The topic was hard to avoid, but you didn´t have many friends anyways to talk to.

“Well, I think you should maybe start then. They often travel together to other tournaments and-“

“I´m actually not going to a public school, I´m home taught.” You voice was louder now, but still shaking enough for Ron to realize your indisposition. He maybe was a genius on the board, but construing social interactions? Not his strength. Awkwardly, he scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh.”

 An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you and you decided to take your first sip to take off your mind. He watched carefully, how your face enlightened with joy. “It´s really good!”

Ron kept his assumption, that it was your first butterbeer, to himself and smiled nodding.

“Dean knows how to make one of the bests around here”, he paused before continuing.

“I admire you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Everything I know about wizard chess, I learned in school from my teammates. Actually, everything I know, I was taught in Hogwarts. But now you come along and beat me, you´re brilliant Y/N.”

“I always liked chess, it´s a whole world on a simple board. I´m not as good in other things, trust me.” You admitted, but his compliment spread warmth around your heart.

“If you want, I could teach you a few things about magic.”

Maybe Ron Weasley wasn´t the best teacher, but he truly wanted to see you again. Something about you was so charismatic and mesmerizing, he couldn´t help himself. To his luck, excitement was shown in your face. “That sounds amazing!”

When you had finished your beers and left the pub, Ron faced you again. The two of you had talked for over an hour and he was beginning to like you more with each minute.

The thought of Ron teaching you more about magic, made you enthusiastic. Maybe it was also the fact, that seeing him again, brought a tickle in your stomach.

“Well, I see you next week, Queen.”

You chuckled at his new nickname for you, it was a pleasant flattery.

“We will see how good your gambit is when it comes to dueling.”

[egoludes]

meant to be.

note: is this the start of a mini-blurb series? potentially (read: highly likely). for now, please enjoy my bad habit of jumping into the middle, and often most angsty, part of any relationship i write. all the inspo credit here goes to @cupofshawn and her tags on this post - her freakin’ mind. gif credit obviously goes to @harryandshawn - thank you for always blessing us! - and big love to britt and @mndes for proofreading!

if you have ideas about what else you’d like to see in an au like this, hit me up - i’d looove to talk about it. and as always, hope you all enjoy!

wc: 2.3k

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Objectively, you know he's right. Your father’s men will come looking if they discover you’re out of bed, and no one --- especially not the etiquette-obsessed man that raised you --- will be pleased to find you here.

But, as you stand against the stable’s half-cracked door, tucked in a hooded cape you hope is enough to hide you, you can’t imagine being anywhere else. “I want to be here,” you declare simply (as though will alone undoes your predicament) and take another, more emboldened step into the room. Around you, most of the horses are resting, their breaths heavy in the otherwise still stable. Shawn is on the far side of it, hand frozen on the snout of a beautiful brown mare that’ll be yours when she's old enough. She watches you the same way he does ---- intently, inquisitively before deciding she’s uninterested and moving to another corner of her stall.

The sudden retreat earns a curse from him. Shawn’d been hoping to use her as a distraction, if not an outright excuse to send you back to the castle. But, now, there’s no getting away from this like he has the last few weeks ---- you’ve got a look on your face that makes that certain. He pauses for a long breath, shoulders moving in his loose tunic before he faces you, expression carefully set. 

For a moment, all you do is take each other in across the empty space. By then, you’ve stepped all the way in to let the door shut behind you, but that changes nothing about the distance - the feeling of being worlds’ apart when he’s on the other side of the room.

It doesn’t help that you’ve been here before in circumstances a lot more hopeful. Just a few years prior, in fact, when Shawn had first come to the castle for his training. It wasn't normal for you to accompany your brothers to see the horses, but you'd worn them down (you can throw one hell of a tantrum if you have to), which led to you, wide-eyed and a little nervous, beside them in the shed. The first thing you noticed, of course, were the horses, each one awake and standing at full height as they started their day. But, it didn’t take long for them to lose your attention to the curly-haired boy tending to them as gently as he could.

You caught Shawn’s attention quickly too, and though you both looked away fast, shame burning in your cheeks, that didn’t stop something electric from filling the room. You were too young to understand it then; but, as you grew older and closer to him, you learned what that empty space across the stable was full of: potential.

For what, well, that stayed out of your grasp for a while longer. But, as you gave it life with fingers intertwined during walks through the gardens, or the first shy kiss he pressed to your mouth before you left him for the day, you came to realize that it was love.

It has always been love.

But, now, there's something sour taking its place. He’s been avoiding you, taking sharp turns around corners when he sees you coming and keeping his tone respectful even when you'e alone  — exactly as he'd been trained to. But, you don't want a Shawn that treats you the way he's supposed to. You don't want a Shawn that sees a throne looming behind you, or power in the lines of your palm. You don’t want a Shawn that grows afraid to love you, whether it’s because of your father, or the politics, or whispers in the town about the princess’ “commoner” lover.

You don’t want to lose him.

So, here you are, standing in his stable at a time that would be absurd if it were anyone else. But, it’s you, and it’s him, and he could never turn you away, not fully. But, that doesn’t mean he won’t try.

“I know you do.” His voice draws you out of your thoughts easily and you push your hood back on your head to give you a better view of him. His jaw is still squared, but there’s tenderness in his eyes; hints of your Shawn, even when he’s at arms’ length. “But, you still cannot be ---- we both know that, your Highness.” The title sounds foreign in his voice, even to him, and he grimaces as though it’s left a foul taste on the way out.

You're equally displeased, arms moving to wrap around your middle for a sense of comfort. “Do not call me that,” you snap, a frown knitting your eyebrows together. You can’t remember the last time he’d addressed by your title when no one was around, and his decision to do it now adds a finality to your relationship that you don’t think you can handle. “I am not that when I’m here...when I’m with you.”

The pain in your voice makes his resolve waver, heart tight in his chest like you’d reached in to take it in your hands. He likes to tell himself he’s doing what’s best because he really thinks he is. You both could deny it all you wanted when it was just the two of you, hidden away in the stable. But, there’s no escaping it out there - when eyes follow you, and the crown perched carefully on your head, at every turn.

You’re a princess, the princess, and he, the head stable hand — you were always meant to fail.

Even then, he’d taken that first step, hadn’t he? He'd been the one to give into months of secret smiles and accidental touches to kiss you. And, in the years that followed, he'd promised you everything he could: his children, his home, his love. Everything short of stealing you away for a normal life somewhere no one knew your name.

Now, here he is, breaking your heart. The guilt rises like bile and he has to look away from you to keep steady. “Honey...” he breathes eventually; you can feel your chest ache a little bit less ---- that's much better. “Please — this is not easy for me either. I don't mean to hurt you—“

“But, you are, Shawn,” you let out in another hiss, this time taking a few steps closer. “You’re being awful. Coming every day when you deliver my father’s horse, but you will not look at me. Ignoring all my notes, keeping the stable locked so I can’t wait here for you, calling me your Highness.” Your voice cracks on the last word, sobs splitting the syllables, and Shawn immediately feels his own eyes growing hot. “I hate it, I hate this, I don't want—“

You lose the rest of your outburst against his chest, words muffled in his top when Shawn closes the distance to gather you in his arms. At first, it’s hard to process that he’s holding you, the sensation almost brand new after so many weeks without it. But, when it clicks, you give another loud sob and cling to him so tight, you’re surprised he can even breathe. You take your time holding each other, you soaking it in for what may be the last time and Shawn hoping to calm you, even if it’s just for the moment. 

Eventually, you’re settled again, sobs turning to sniffles that barely make it out with your face pressed into him. But, there’s nothing in that calm that’s content. He can feel it even without looking at you, the exhaustion that this has brought, and his arms tighten around you instinctively, drawing you nearer. “Darling,” he starts in a feather-light voice that fills the empty space around you. “Can you look at me?”

You hate that it’s still so easy for him to stir something up in you, but you oblige him without question, chin tilting upwards so you can find his face. The man you’d found earlier, detached and cold, is completely gone; in his place is your Shawn. The one that made funny faces at you when he saw you on the grounds and knew no one else could see. The one that held you to him as you rode your first adult horse, and kissed you boldly when you did it on your own. The one you made love to beneath a sunset sky, and that told you he loved you under moonlight. 

You could almost cry from the relief.

“I love you,” he continues when he has your full attention, “’ve never lied about that. And it’s exactly why I want to do this.” You part your lips to protest, another frown rising, and Shawn cuts you off with his forehead meeting yours. “Shh, let me finish...I need to explain.” He pauses to give you time to settle and himself time to think before pressing on. “I don’t care about what I risk by being with you. But, if we ever got caught, so much would change for you. You have to know that. Between your father and the councils, they’d probably keep you under lock and key until they find the first noble to marry you off to and I just.. I can’t ask you to risk that for me. I won’t.” Somewhere in his speech, the energy between you has turned tender and Shawn chances a touch to your cheek, thumb rubbing carefully over the skin. “I just want to protect you. That’s all.”

He seems relieved to get that out, eyes slipping shut when his voice trails off; and for the first time in weeks, you aren’t angry at him. Of course, you’re not happy either, but this in-between feels infinitely better than the cycle of doubting yourself and hating him that’d come before it. It makes it easier to reach up to touch him back, fingers finding his curls as you think through all he’s said. None of it is wrong: nothing good would come out of your father finding out and while Shawn would no doubt suffer, your consequences would far outweigh his. Call it your father’s spite for anyone ‘disgracing’ the royal name, or a ploy to prove power over his kingdom, even down to his own children -- whatever it is, it would leave you devastated.

But, after weeks of watching the man you love slip through your fingers, aren’t you already there? You can’t think of anything that could hurt more than this has, anything you couldn’t withstand if it meant having him back. And the realization has you squaring your shoulders, body braced as though you’ll face your father at that very moment.

First, though, you’ll start with Shawn.

“What if I said I didn’t want you to protect me, not from this at least.” He opens his eyes to find you watching him and you can tell by the way his features twist that he’s confused. You let your fingers thread through his curls until they can settle at the nape of his neck, earning you a purr and a lot less apprehension -- he’s always loved that calming touch. “Shawn, I don’t care about my father, or the traditions, or even the ways he might punish me if we were found out. I knew all about that the moment I met you and still came back the next day.” The reference sparks a memory for you both, something soft and full of sunshine that makes you smile despite yourselves. 

“And after these last weeks, I also know he cannot do more to me than losing you has. When nothing compares to you or this, why not take every risk? Why not give everything up to give us a fighting chance?” Tears spring to your eyes again, lining them without falling, and if he squints, he can glimpse the sixteen year old girl he remembers, scared of what will happen if she defies everything she’s ever known. But, far louder is the woman he loves now and the earnest in her eyes, determination that grows more intense as she gives one last stand. “No matter what you say, I’m not running away from this. You simply have to say you’ll stand with me.” 

When you finish, you’re winded, watching him with growing nerves, and Shawn is taking you in without a word. You don’t expect the answer to be immediate; but the longer he goes without saying anything, the more dread sinks in. He’s going to say no, you convince yourself, tears starting to cloud your vision, he’s going to say it’s not worth it. 

Then, he laughs. A hearty, shoulder-shaking laugh that bends him away from you as he tosses his head back. This time, it’s your turn to be confused, this  reaction stinging more, somehow, than a rejection. But, just as you prepare to question him, he beats you to the punch, the arms around you squeezing as he lifts you into a tighter hug. His face lands in the crook of your neck and he sighs contently at the smell of you rising to meet him. It’s been far too long. “I’m such a fool,” he mutters eventually, shifting to peek up at you, “to think you would ever make this easy for me, and that I could ever tell you no.” 

You realize, then, that he’d been laughing at himself and almost swat at him for scaring you. But, the answer he’s given you ---- a promise to stand ---- makes it hard to want anything than to kiss him. 

So, that’s exactly what you do. 

taglist: @sinplisticshawn / @honestey / @heyits-claire / @justanotherfangurl272

[artificialqueens]

Pretty Mess Chapter 6 (Chiona)

A/N: here’s chapter 6, fuckers. i told y'all i was gonna update more frequently. I ended up talking a bit about Adore’s fans in this chapter because I recently met her and I’m still incredibly soft and happy about it. Also, a couple of weeks ago she tweeted “I’d be dead without them” in regards to her fans and it gave me a bit of inspo. But anyway, I hope you enjoy!

T/W for s*lf h*rm / blood

Danny didn’t think he’d ever been this scared before. Hastily, he splashed his face with water and looked up at his reflection in the mirror, the leftover water dripping from his chin. The light in the bathroom dimly illuminated the room, and he noticed it was slightly flickering. He sighed and ran his hands through his scruffy black hair, sinking down to the ground and resting his back against the wall. 5 minutes earlier, he had woken up on the couch with a start. He had obviously had a bad dream, because he was in a cold sweat and was breathing heavy, but he couldn’t remember what it was about. Then, he saw a sleeping Roy’s arm draped around his waist and then he remembered where he was, and fragments of the dream came back to him. Roy had walked in on him cutting himself, but that was the least of his worries. Roy had grabbed the blade from his hand and was hurling insults at him, yelling straight in his face that he was frail, and pathetic and lazy, all while using the blade to cut at Danny’s thighs himself, and in the dream Danny could only watch as pools of blood stained the floor. The thought of the dream sent a shiver down his spine, and he suddenly felt incredibly claustrophobic next to Roy. So, he carefully unwrapped himself from Roy’s arms and now, here he was in the bathroom, struggling to breathe. The dream had been so vivid, and he could still see Roy’s enraged face screaming at him.

He buried his head in his hands, feeling just about ready to tear his hair out. Maybe this was he’s mind’s way of warning him against kissing Roy again, warning him against potentially becoming more than friends? The dream was only part of the reason why he was scared; the other part of it was what Roy was going to say when he woke up. Danny didn’t even know where he wanted their relationship to stand, but he knew that Roy would dismiss the events of the night before like he did last time they kissed, blaming it on the beer, or the atmosphere. And even though he was confused as to his feelings for the older man, for some reason the thought of his potential dismissal made him heartbroken. Part of him just wanted to avoid the whole situation, leave a note and leave, and then ghost Roy until the whole situation was forgotten. But then he remembered he was at his own damn house, and kicked himself. His head was spinning, going back and forth from his dream to his feelings for Roy with each passing second. He could hardly breathe as he thought about everything, thinking about how even if he did like Roy, there was no way Roy would like him back. Thoughts of self-deprecation filled his head, thinking of how he was weak, selfish and stupid he was, how he was too pathetic for Roy to even consider a relationship with him. Was that even what Danny wanted? A relationship? The comments he received on the main stage during All Stars filled his head, and he felt like the voices were screaming at him. Everything the judges had said were right.

Tears filled his eyes. He couldn’t take it anymore, and with shaking hands he opened the bathroom cabinet and loosely grasped the silver blade he kept there. Danny felt like he had blacked out for a second, and when he regained sense of what was happening around him he noticed the fresh cuts on his thighs, blood pooling from them, and small cuts along his wrists, a place he’d never brought the blade to before. With wide eyes, his hands trembled, and he dropped the blade. A small ‘clang’ noise echoed through the room, as Danny brought his legs up to his chest and sobbed into his knees, tears mixing with blood.

-

Danny wasn’t there when Roy woke up. The sun was peeking out through the blinds, stinging Roy’s eyes as he sat up on the couch. The TV was still on, muted, and the house was eerily quiet. The only sign of Danny was his phone placed on the coffee table, his ‘sick sad world’ phone case facing upwards. Roy grabbed his own phone from the coffee table, checking his social media, hoping to hear a sign of movement in the house. 10 minutes passed, and still the only noise he could hear was the sound of his own breathing. Confused, he put his phone in his pocket, looking around the house.

“Danny?” he called out, in a hoarse voice. No response. With a sigh, he stood up and walked down the hallway.

“Dan?” again, no response. He gently opened the door to the bedroom; surprisingly, the bed was made, and obviously hadn’t been touched in a while. When he walked into the room he saw what he expected Danny’s room to be; messy as hell, with clothes strewn about everywhere, letters and drawings from fans on the walls. With a soft smile, he walked over to a cluster of them on the wall next to his bed, scanning some of the letters. He really did mean so much to so many people, and all of the messages were so heartfelt. Danny treated all of his fans with so much love. Shaking the thoughts from his head and remembering what he was doing, he called out for Danny one last time. Still nothing. He checked the ensuite and Danny’s music room, but still nothing. The last place he could be was the spare bathroom. Roy went to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. He looked down at the ground and noticed the faintest light billowing out from underneath the door. Gently, he knocked.

“Danny, are you in there?”

The only reply he received was silence. Hesitantly, Roy knocked again. No movement could be heard, at all.

“Danny, don’t make me knock this goddamn door down, I’m too old for that shit” he joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“J….just go away, Roy” he heard Danny reply. The voice shocked him. He could tell that Danny had been crying. After a moment, Roy sat down with his back against the door.

“You know I’m not gonna do that, Dan. What’s wrong?” he persisted, his head turned to the side so it rested against the door.

“Please, Roy” came the broken voice from behind the door “I’m fine, just leave me alone”. Danny tried to sound like he was bitter, angry even, to give Roy the message to back off, but he just ended up sounding whiny and sad.

“Danny, you’re not fine…I can tell” Roy responded. Danny didn’t say anything. “If you let me in, you don’t have to say anything. I just want to see you, and comfort you, and make sure you’re okay. Can you let me do that?”

Danny had never really heard Roy speak like that before. So kindly, so…softly. Roy heard movement; a cupboard closing, water running. And then the sound of the lock on the door turning. He stood up and pushed the door open. He was greeted with sunken, bloodshot green eyes and wet cheeks.

“Danny…” his breath hitched at the sight of the younger boy. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around Danny’s neck and hugged him tightly. Danny responded by loosely wrapping his arms around Roy’s waist and resting his head on his shoulder. Roy rubbed his back soothingly. Danny’s body shook violently as he tried to stifle his tears.

“Shh…” Roy whispered into his ear, squeezing him tight “Everything’s okay. I’ve got you”

Danny was taken aback by Roy’s behaviour. He’d never been this, well… soft before. Normally if Danny felt like shit Roy would just hug him, and tell sarcastic jokes to lighten the mood. But now he was acting tender and caring, and it was a completely different side of him.

When they pulled apart, Danny stumbled and grabbed onto the doorframe for support, in a sudden rush of lightheadedness. He went starry eyed for a second, and he swore he was about to black out, but Roy held him up.

“Are you alright?” he asked urgently.

“I…I need some water” Danny announced, starting towards the kitchen.

“No,” Roy stopped him in his tracks “I’ll get it. Just…wait here”

Roy quickly walked over to the kitchen and poured a glass of water, as well as grabbing a half empty bag of Ruffles (Danny’s favourite) from the pantry for good measure. He grabbed Danny’s phone for him on the way out, as well. When he returned to the hallway, Danny was no longer there. Roy could still see him, though; at the end of the hall he could see him sitting on his bed, looking through a book. There were a pile of papers next to him as well. Roy slowly approached him, and as he got closer, he smiled sadly as he realised they were all letters from fans. Danny looked up and grabbed the water from Roy, gulping it down as though he’d just spent months stranded in the desert.

“Thanks” he said, in a small voice, before running his hands over the page of the book he held in his hands. Roy could now see it was a little sketchbook, filled with messy scrawl. Slowly, he sat down on the bed, careful not to disrupt the pile of papers next to Danny. Before Roy could speak, Danny broke the silence.

“Whenever I feel like shit, I look through all this stuff” he croaked, turning the page as his mouth contorted into a smile that honestly looked more like a grimace “They keep me going” he admitted. Roy smiled at him, placing a hand on his knee.

“You keep them going” he responded, causing Danny to nod and quickly wipe a tear from his cheek “So many people love you”

“No…they love Adore”

“You’re Adore, aren’t you?”

Danny paused.

“Yeah… I guess” he agreed. Recently, he’d been incorporating more of Danny into his drag persona, and it made him feel so much more confident. Danny and Adore had kind of become one.

“Who’s that from?” Roy asked, gesturing to the book Danny held in his hands. The younger boy’s face lit up as he told the story of an underage fan he met outside the venue at a show, flicking through the pages of the sketchbook and showing him all the drawings and messages the fan had left him. Then, he moved onto the next letter, in the pile, and the next one, telling Roy countless stories about some of the lovely experiences he’d had with fans, talking of his “favourite babies”, as he referred to some of them. Roy could tell that his spirits had instantly been lifted, as the only tears that fell were happy ones.

“I don’t deserve them” Danny bit his lip, shaking his head.

“Of course you do. You deserve the world, Danny” Roy looked him dead in the eye, and Danny felt a shiver down his spine. He reached over for Roy’s hand and grabbed it, giving it a small squeeze.

“I love you” he mustered, his chest tight with fear of how Roy was going to respond. He’d told him he loved him before, but this time, after the events of the night before and all the thoughts running through his head about their relationship, it felt different.

“I love you, chola” Roy responded, with a wink. Danny smiled weakly in response.

“I think I’m gonna try and get some sleep” he said, rubbing at his eyes to emphasise how tired he had suddenly become.

“That’s probably a good idea” Roy agreed, letting go of Danny’s hand and standing up “I might get going now”

Danny’s shoulders dropped slightly, but not enough for Roy to notice.

“I’ll walk you to the door-“ Danny attempted to get up, but Roy held his hand out.

“I’m fine, just get some sleep, Dan”

“Alright” Danny smiled up at him while he tied his long black hair up into a bun on the top of his head. Roy’s heart melted; he looked adorable.

“Bye, pussyfart” he leant down to hug him.

“Bye, my love” Danny responded, breaking away from the hug slightly to look at Roy. Time seemed to stand still for a second, as they looked at each other. Danny slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips against Roy’s, butterflies in his stomach. All the tension in his body released when Roy kissed back, and Danny was the one to break the kiss. He smiled up at the older man and bit his lip, unloosing his hands from his waist and shuffling towards his pillows.

“Bye, Danny” Roy said softly, swiftly exiting the room as Danny snuggled under the covers and grabbed his phone. He heard the door close as he unlocked his phone and opened twitter. After scrolling through some of his mentions and replying to DM’s, he started to write a tweet, pressing send with a smile on his face.

It read “I love you all so, so much”. Instantly, hundreds of likes and replies came through, and his heart warmed. Danny fell asleep with a smile on his face.

-

DANNY: I have a show tonight, you wanna come watch? I might just buy you a drink ;)

Roy smiled down at his phone screen. Nearly a week had passed since they last saw each other, and they hadn’t really had any other form of communication since then other than liking or commenting on each other’s instagram photos, but apart from that, nothing. So, seeing a text from Danny lightened his mood a little bit.

ROY: Of course I do, bitch. You know I’m your number 1 fan

DANNY: fuckin cool

Roy scoffed slightly at the response, taking a screenshot when Danny sent him the details for the venue. He was not only excited to see Danny, but also Adore. He hadn’t seen Adore perform in a very long time. She was a natural born performer, and she always had the widest smile on her face while on stage that made Roy so happy. He was also excited to possibly see the products of his ‘creative rush’ that made him go MIA for two weeks. When it came to music, Danny knew what the fuck he was doing, and was arguably the best drag musician out there. It made Roy so proud to see Adore receive the success she deserved. His phone buzzing dragged him out of his thoughts, and he looked down to see a twitter notification. He ignored it, standing up and walking over to his room to get changed. He realised that he’d spent the past week catching himself in the middle of deep thought about Danny. Roy didn’t know what is was; he just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him, and the kisses they shared. Part of him loved it, and he would constantly think back to the blissful feeling of them cuddled up on the couch together. And then his mind would wander back to the night they first kissed, when Danny had pulled away so suddenly, almost as if he had been burnt by something. The thought of that night honestly made him feel sick. Roy was just baffled as to where their relationship stood, as neither of them really had the balls to discuss it properly. But maybe tonight, when they had a couple of drinks in them to boost their confidence, they would talk about shit. Roy didn’t understand why he even had an urge to talk about it in the first place; he didn’t even know what he wanted, what he thought about what had happened between them, and he was tempted to just avoid the whole situation. But, knowing what Danny was like after a few drinks, it wasn’t really something he could avoid. Roy couldn’t get his brain to shut up. This was going to be an interesting night.