#the warm greys and the blues with like a tiny bit of yellow......

[gelarshiesprofruitboarder]

i could go on forever about how much i love ruby vroom like purely from a visual standpoint ,,,,, aughfhhgg its so pretty and nice i adore it

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Crawl Home To Her

Ship: Astarion x fem!Tav/reader

Summary: As awful the feeling of blood on the skin is, sometimes it can be helpful, you have to admit. At least, when it comes to Astarion, blood is always helpful. You'll have to take his word for it—and that's oh so easy bathing with him.

Word Count: 5,461 words

Warnings: sexual content (18+) blood, gore, nudity, sexual & non-sexual touching, bathing each other, soft Astarion, established relationship, brief mention of past sexual encounter, dealing with past trauma, teasing from Karlach, mention of dismemberment, fluff & smut mix

18+ Warnings: brief fingering (f receiving), tiny bit of a hair kink, sensual touching, semi-public sex/nudity

Note: Part 2 of Burns Like Rum is coming soon! But here's a little something to tithe you over until the sequel (Sweet Like Rum) is ready!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Shafts of pale sunlight fell on your face as you walked through the forest, your arms swinging at your sides, small critters running amok in the bushes around you. Birdsong filled your ears, pleasantly light and summery, reminding you distantly of a childhood memory you couldn't quite reach. The weather was warm enough that you were thinking you might have to change into something lighter. The few weapons you had on you were already starting to make you break out into a sweat.

For a day that had started with murder, the weather was surprisingly nice.

You hummed as you walked—the song pulled from your childhood, the words long forgotten but pieces of the melody clunking around in your head. You strung them together the best you could, tapping out a rhythm against your leg.

You were on your way to the waterfall you'd spotted several days ago while hunting. It was small and nothing too violent. The pool it fell into wasn't deep enough to drown you, nor was the flow of water all that fast. You trusted it—and the rock ledge behind it—would suit your purposes quite nicely.

Coming upon the pool was like stepping into one of the fairytales you had heard in your youth, sitting upon your father's knee in a tavern, listening to a traveller tell a story you weren't sure was entirely true.

It was guarded by willow trees with branches that swayed in a breeze you hadn't felt until you came upon them. Pushing the curtain of branches away revealed an almost perfectly circular clearing, the ground covered in vibrant green moss that squished delightfully beneath your feet and sprung back up when you stepped off of it. Patches of flowers sprouted all around, pink and yellow and purple blooms that grew up to the sun. The pool was as blue as the sky above, clear and shallow, surrounded by a few feet of soft white sand. The water shimmered in the sunlight, rippling over the pebbles that covered its floor. From the pool, the water flowed into a thin river that could hardly be called a river and out into the woods.

You sat by the pool's edge and pulled off your boots. They were just as bloody as the rest of you, the sticky and quickly drying substance staining the black leather. You splashed water over them and scrubbed with a cloth you had designated for this purpose that had once been grey.

Only after your boots were clean did you stand back up and step into the soft sand. You wiggled your toes, smiling at the feeling. You breathed in the crisp, sweet air. It smelled faintly of flowers and citrus, a scent that was familiar, though you couldn't place it.

You stripped slowly, hissing and wincing as you tugged at the places where blood had stuck the fabric to your skin. It acted like glue when dry, staining your skin and leaving a mottled pattern across your flesh. The fabric of your shirt had grown stiff with semi-dried blood.

One by one, you pulled off belts and straps holding weapons, the gloves you protected your hands with, your shirt, your trousers—until you were standing naked at the pool's edge. You gave yourself a cursory inspection, searching for any wounds you had acquired in the fighting this morning that you hadn't noticed; it wouldn't be the first time you'd walked away from a fight and realized you were injured only hours later. But, this time, there was nothing.

Usually it was Astarion who noticed you were injured, catching your smell in the air when it shouldn't have been. But you were drenched in so much blood already that you imagined it would have been very hard to pick out your distinct scent.

You waded into the pool, taking your clothes with you, and sat at it's deepest point. Standing, it reached your knees; sitting, it almost came to your shoulders. You scrubbed the blood from your clothes, using the soap you had brought with you.

You watched the blood and soap swirl together in the water and flow toward the river, a thin stream of red and bubbles slipping away from the crimson cloud surrounding you. You almost felt bad to ruin the clarity of the water, but the others—back at camp—were taking far too long to wash the blood from themselves with your limited store of water. This was better, in the long run.

Astarion would have a field day with this if this wasn't goblin blood, you thought to yourself, staring at the blood drifting just below the surface. He would drink it, from time to time, but never happily.

You scrubbed at your clothes until your fingers were stiff and sore and the blood was no longer coming out of the fabric. You inspected them and deemed them clean enough to put back on the moss, spread out so they would dry faster.

To clean yourself, you headed toward the waterfall. You climbed up onto the stone ledge behind it, reveling in the surprisingly gentle spray of water that reached you and the stillness of the water that it fell into, high enough to reach your knees.

You stepped under the water. It cascaded over you, dousing you in its coolness that reminded you of the first time Astarion had ever touched you—

—gentle hands, cascading down your sides—fingers lifting your chin so you would meet his gaze—a kiss to your forehead—a hand on the small of your back—his lips on your own, warmer than you had anticipated—his fingers in your hair, keeping your head off the ground—his hand slipping between your legs—his little giggle when you shuddered beneath him—the pleasured sigh from his lips as he slid inside of you—

Stepping out from underneath the water, you shook your head, banishing the memory. You had spoken recently about all of this. He'd told you, "I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex." He'd said, "I don't want to be just a body for you, darling." And though he'd teased you that you were more than welcome to "sustain yourself" (his words) with your memories of him while he took time away from intimacy, some part of you still felt like you violating his wishes any time it was his body that you thought of, rather than of, well, just him.

You wiped the water from your eyes and knew your tears had mixed in with it; Astarion had been very vulnerable with you, so you knew his reasons for it all. You had two responses: either unbearable sorrow that he had been forced to endure it all (which the current cause of the crushing weight in your chest), or blinding rage that birthed the desire to see Cazador's head on a spear.

You carded your hands through your wet hair, trying to work out the tangles. Your fingers came away covered in watery blood.

"Mind if I join you?"

You jumped, eyes flying open, and looked up. Leaning against the stone wall was the vampire himself, a gentle smile on his face. Gods, how you loved that smile. In this light, you couldn't tell his eyes were red and his fangs were hidden. If you didn't pay attention to how pale he was, you could imagine he was just an elf again—the life he deserved.

Astarion still wore his clothes, which were slowly darkening as they soaked up the spray of water and splattered with as much blood as his handsome face, but his boots were placed neatly next to yours on the moss. He'd cleaned them already; how had you not heard him before?

While he waited for your answer, aware of your admiring gaze on him, he pulled his shirt off over his head, mussing the curls you loved so much. He stripped quickly, nearly falling over when his trouser leg caught on his foot, and left his clothes in a pile on the rock ledge. Perhaps you were imagining things, but his skin looked paler than it had this morning, when you'd been rudely awoken by a horde of goblins invading your camp.

You held your arms open to him. "I'd like that very much."

He stepped into your arms, wrapped his own around your waist, and buried his head in your neck, breathing in deeply. "My love," he whispered, his lips against your skin. He kissed your neck softly and pulled away, cupping your face in his hand, to look into your eyes. "Are you alright?"

You nodded. "I'm okay."

"No injuries this time?" Astarion's eyes slid down your naked body, examining, his gaze concerned when it had once been sensual. You felt yourself relax in his arms, at ease with his concern. It felt real, honest in a way you hadn't had a chance to be yet. It was natural, somehow, to be checking each other for injuries in the time you finally caught together, away from the others.

"Not this time," you said, leaning into him. More watery blood dripped from your hair and across his chest, leaving streaks that made it look like he'd just returned from a rather messy feeding.

He kissed the top of your wet head. "Good." He leaned away to smile at you. "I was worried you'd run off to take care of your injuries by yourself, if only to keep me from smelling the blood."

You shook your head. "If only we'd been attacked by something you could drink from, satisfy your hunger for a few days." He smiled weakly and you knew the thought had been on his mind, too. "What about you? Are you okay?"

He spread his arms and did a little twirl for you. You giggled at his antics, glancing over his skin, pleased he was comfortable enough to even be naked with you. "Yes, darling. Not a scratch on me."

The two of you looked at each other, your hair already damp and clinging to your head, and his curls slowly being matted down by the thick mist of the waterfall. His ears poked out, more noticeable than normal.

Astarion bent and picked up your bar of soap. "May I help you wash off all this grime?"

"Please," you said, your voice soft but as loving as you could make it, your eyes fixed firmly on his.

He lathered his hands with soap and scrubbed gently at your skin. His nails, kept trimmed and neat, were hardly more than a light sensation as he worked at the dried blood until it crumbled away from your skin and ran down your body in red rivulets. His touch was soft, caring where it had once been lustful and groping. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his fingers digging into your tired muscles, and held him. You adjusted your hold on him as he moved across your body—an arm draped across his shoulders, a hand on his bicep, your fingers against his chest, your head on his shoulder.

You looked up at Astarion, blinking quickly to keep the water out of your eyes. His gaze remained fixated on your hips as he gently washed off the blood, but he smiled, aware of your stare.

"See something you like?" he asked, tone playful.

"Someone I love," you corrected. He looked up at you, a tender smile growing on his lips. "Someone I love dearly." You leaned close, cupped one side of his face, and kissed the other. "I love you, Astarion."

He kissed your cheek, too. "And I love you." His lips found yours. He kissed you with a sweetness that simultaneously broke your heart and mended it. You wrapped your arms around his waist. He hummed happily into your mouth and cradled the back of your neck.

The pair of you fell into a tight embrace. You felt the adrenaline drain from you and leave you limp in his arms, your hot skin going cold under the water. Despite how suddenly you must have slumped against him, Astarion held you with ease. He gave the crown of your head a quick kiss, then made an unpleasant sound of surprise from the back of his throat.

"Darling, do you mind if I wash your hair? There's an awful lot of goblin blood in it."

You forced yourself to stand up straight on your own, still holding his sides for support. "Oh, yes—that would be from Karlach throwing one she'd just chopped into over my head." Even as you said the words, you felt the blood splattering into your hair again and shuddered.

Astarion grimaced. "Let me help you with it, then." He lathered his hands and put them in your hair. As he fell into a rhythm, you closed your eyes and let him doing the work, your thoughts drifting...

At first, you weren't sure why you had even woken in the first place. The light coming in through a crack in the tent's opening was still the watery and grey color of pre-dawn, much earlier than you usually woke. You frowned and pushed back into Astarion, his arm squeezing you tighter, sleep once again tugging at your eyelids.

And then you heard a shout, vicious and loud. It was close to camp, maybe even in camp. The shout came again and you realized it was Lae'zel's war cry.

All at once, the sounds of a battle filled your ears. You jerked awake in an instant, clambering onto your knees and shaking Astarion awake next to you. Of course the one day Astarion decided to indulge in the very human activity of sleep was the day you and your friends were attacked.

"What's going on?" he mumbled as his eyes flickered open, his words slurred together.

"Come on, grab your knives," you said, pulling your lightest set of armor on over your clothes. You were suddenly very relieved Astarion had decided skin to skin contact was a bit too much for him last night. "I think we're under attack."

He woke just as quickly as you had. He swore, dragged a quick hand through his hair, and grabbed his knives. He waited until you had your own weapon in hand before he opened the curtain flap of his tent.

The camp was a sight to behold. Already it was trashed and overflowing with goblins. Some were already on the ground, their blood oozing everywhere in the dirt and grass. Gashes from Lae'zel's sword seeped blood and gristle, if she hadn't horribly disfigured the corpses and turned them into little more than lumps of flesh. Many of them bore scorch marks that ranged from minor burns to melting flesh. It smelled horrendous and nearly acidic; you bit back the bile in your throat.

A dismembered arm fell at your foot. You kicked it away on instinct, looking up to see Karlach ripping a second goblin limb from limb.

"Now that's just vile," Astarion said, still looking at the arm, a fang poking out over his curled lip.

"Complain about it later," you said, grabbing his chin and giving him a quick and customary 'good morning' kiss. "We've got to help the others."

"If you insist."

Astarion ran to Karlach's side; you headed for Shadowheart and Gale. Wyll was approaching, too, cutting a path through the goblins.

"Morning, you two!" you said cheerily. "How'd this happen?"

"We're not sure," Shadowheart said, kicking a goblin in the face as it ran at her with a scream. "Lae'zel said they came from the north, just over those hills."

"Odd. I wonder if we camped too close to them for their liking, and now they're trying to do something about it. Are goblins territorial creatures?"

Gale grunted, casting another fireball. "Enough chatting. Let's just kill these things and figure out where they came from and why later. Got it?"

"Fair enough," you decided. "Whoever kills the most chooses dinner for a week."

"I'll take you up on that," Wyll said from behind you. "I'm dreaming of a good meal for once."

Astarion's hands sliding out of your hair abruptly brought you back to reality, to his body pressed against yours and the waterfall at your back, shielding the two of you from the world.

"Where'd you go?" he asked, voice soft. You could feel his fingers toying with the ends of your hair, curling it on his fingers.

"Back to the fight," you admitted. "I just keep wondering how they snuck up on us."

"No matter now," he said. "We'll let Lae'zel criticize us all for not anticipating every possible disaster when we get back, but not yet. Not here."

He went back to massaging your scalp, despite the blood being long gone, and your sighed happily. He smiled and kissed your forehead, adding pressure. A content whimper slipped from your lips and you blushed instantly as his eyes lit up; he'd heard far more obscene from you, yet still the slightest sounds you made embarrassed you and delighted him.

"My, my, the noises you make for me, lover," he teased, giggling. He wrapped his hand in your hair and tugged, hard enough to draw a loud moan out of your chest.

Astarion covered your mouth with his hand, his eyes playfully wide. "Shhh, unless you want the others to come looking. We're not that far away from camp."

Heat rushed through your body. "Oh, gods, Astarion, I'm— I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to— And I certainly didn't expect it to be that...that loud—! I..."

He swallowed your frantic apologies with a kiss. Against your lips, he whispered, "If you can keep quiet, though...I can grant you all the pleasure you want. You need only ask, darling."

Your heart skipped several beats in your chest. You put your hand up to his face. "Oh, I don't... Star, I don't need you to, I wouldn't want you to...feel obligated." He pulled his forehead away from yours to see your face. "We agreed not to do anything until you're ready. And that wasn't that long ago, so... I don't want you to be uncomfortable—"

Astarion cupped your chin with his hand, dragging his thumb across your lower lip. The words died in your throat. He met your gaze, his crimson eyes open and honest, and said, "Your pleasure is a gift. Even if I don't want to be touched yet, that's not stopping me from touching you. Only you can stop me from touching you."

"Star..."

He pulled you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around him, suddenly too aware of the raised scar you felt against your arms. "I trust you. Wholeheartedly. I trust you to...to respect my boundaries. To check in with me. To see when I'm uncomfortable. You've already done it, again and again, and proved that you're worthy of that trust. And do I look uncomfortable now?"

You studied him. His pupils were blown. His eyes told a story of contentment. The tenseness you had once noticed laying deep and dormant in his muscles was gone. He looked at you with a fondness you realized now was a profound trust and he stood utterly relaxed in your arms.

So you answered him honestly. "No."

"Exactly, darling. I'm not uncomfortable. I want to do this for you, if that's what you also want. I feel...safe with you. I've never felt like this around anyone before," he admitted, a bit of sadness creeping onto his face, "and I don't want to ruin it. I don't know... I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm going to try to do right by you. So if you want me..." He placed his hand low on your abdomen. Your stomach did flips. He put his lips against the shell of your ear. "Tell me, darling, because I certainly want you. All I ask is that you not touch me, not just yet."

You whimpered. "Please, Star. I promise not to touch you, I promise. But please touch me."

"That's my girl," he whispered. "Spread your legs for me, no need to be so nervous."

You readjusted your stance, widening the space between your previously clenched thighs. His hand filled the gap, cupping you gently. You sighed, leaning your head against his chest again, looking down to watch his ministrations.

Astarion pressed his palm to your clit. You watched his wrist move as he slid his fingers along your slit, teasing you and never quite touching you where you needed him. You whimpered as his fingertip lightly ghosted your entrance, just barely dipping inside before he moved his hand back up, his fingers toying with your clit.

"That's it," he whispered in your ear. "Make those quiet, pretty sounds for me. Show me how you feel."

You rocked your hips against his hand. "Astarion, please..."

He kissed your temple. "Feeling good?"

Your broken moan was your answer. He chuckled, sliding his hand up your side, taking your breast in the palm of his hand. He rolled your nipple between his fingers, making you gasp and buck your hips against him. He closed his lips around it and sucked gently.

"More," you whispered. "Please. I need...I need you."

"Alright, darling, alright," he said against your skin. He rubbed your entrance for another moment, then slid his finger inside you. You clenched down on him as you sighed your pleasure. He curled his finger inside you, rubbing away at your walls, and you gasped loudly.

Astarion grinned. "Make those noises. Moan for me. I want you to show me how good this feels, show me you want me." You gripped tightly onto him, one hand on the back of his neck and the other on his hip. Your breaths grew heavy and your whimpers louder. "Yes, that's it! Be loud for me, my sweet, the loudest you've ever—"

A branch cracked in the forest. A voice called out your name, then Astarion's. You jumped a mile and Astarion's finger slipped out of you. You stared at each other with wide eyes.

"D...did you hear that?" you asked. "Or am I hearing things?"

As if an answer, the voice—Gale's—shouted again, "I know you're over here, I can see your boots!"

"Shit," Astarion sighed. He craned his head to peer around the curtain of water. "What the hells do you want?"

"Is she with you?" Gale asked. "Shadowheart sent me to find you both, the rest of us have all finished washing up! There's water left for you."

"That's what we're trying to do, Gale!" you called, reaching an arm through the waterfall and waving at him. "Use the water for something else, we'll make do here."

He harrumphed. "If I had known this was just a few minutes away from camp, I would have come to wash up here ages ago."

You and Astarion exchanged a look. So much for a secret getaway spot.

"Be back soon, or Karlach will start worrying," Gale said, in the tone of a chiding parent. "And no funny business!"

"Oh, shut up!" Astarion shouted, the tips of his ears turning a deep pink. He ducked behind the water again and holding you close. You barely held back your giggles while the two of you listened for Gale to walk away. One slipped out and Astarion hurriedly covered your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm and he pulled it away quickly. "You weirdo!"

You wrapped your arms around him and leaned into his chest. "Yes, but I'm your weirdo. You love me anyway."

Astarion pushed a strand of your wet hair behind your ear. "I love you anyway," he admitted, with a fondness that turned you into mush in his arms. He held you close for several moments, then asked, "Do you want me to continue?"

You thought about it, then shook your head. "Not just now. I suspect Karlach will be on her way to investigate the waterfall I didn't have the decency tell anyone about very soon."

"Very well," he said. "I'll finish you off later in my tent, then. As long as you can keep quiet for me, darling." He gave you that charming smile that made your stomach do flips.

"I thought you liked me loud," you teased.

Astarion rolled his eyes, playful and flirtation in such a comfortable way that it warmed your heart more than any of his touches ever could, delightful as they were. "Only when I have you all to myself, lover." He nipped at your neck, his fangs scratching but not breaking your skin. "Your moans are mine."

You stood together like that for several more moments, his hands on your hips and your arms looped around his neck, your foreheads pressed together. You exchanged dainty kisses, basking in each other in the few minutes left you had alone.

At last, you planted one firm, lingering kiss to his lips. "Let me clean you off," you said. "Though you're going to have to crouch for me to get your hair." Most of the blood and grime had been washed away by the waterfall's spray, but his silver hair was still speckled with it all, and you could taste it on his lips—sour and gritty. No wonder he only drank from goblins as a last resort.

Astarion bent his head down, pressing his forehead into your shoulder and holding you by the waist. You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and smiling (but saying nothing) every time your touch managed to pull a soft whimper or moan from him without him realizing it.

You washed his body anyway, wiping away the remaining grime and massaging his muscles. You enjoyed the way he relaxed in your arms, quietly asking for more or less pressure.

"My back," he said, voice quiet and almost timid. "Can you...?"

"Are you sure?" you asked, frowning.

He nodded and turned in your arms, exposing his back to you. You started slowly, massaging his upper back and shoulders before working your way down, giving him plenty of time to tell you to stop if he needed to. But he leaned into your touch and responded with more of those gentle and timid—but happy—sounds.

You kissed the nape of his neck when you were finished, rested your head against his back, and wrapped your arms around his waist. His hands found yours and laced your fingers together.

"Thank you, my love," he said. "I've never... No one has ever done that for me before."

You hugged him tighter. "Any time you need me—I'm here. I will always be here." You stepped away and guided him out of the water with a hand. "Come on, we should head back."

The pair of you helped each other dress, though neither of you were wearing anything that required the help. You suspected Astarion just wanted to keep you close; when he got into his cuddly moods, it lasted for hours at a time. You would sleep wrapped up in your vampire's arms, safe and comfortable, tonight.

You were both pulling on your boots when Karlach found you.

"There you are!" she said. "Why didn't you tell us where you'd run off to?"

You shrugged. "I wanted the peace and quiet," you said honestly. "Besides, you all take forever to clean off."

Astarion snickered. "She's right about that."

Karlach sat on the moss, staring at the waterfall. "Well, you're right about one thing, soldier—this place is peaceful."

You hummed your agreement. "Yes. I'm glad we camped near it, or I never would have found it."

"How did you find this place?" she asked.

"Hunting," you said.

"Really? I assumed it must have been when you and Astarion sneak out so the rest of us can't hear you having sex." You choked on air and she laughed. "What? He found it easily!"

Astarion spluttered. "Because I could smell her!"

You sighed. "Karlach, we stopped sneaking off ages ago. We don't need to, we sleep in the same tent now. Rest assured, if anything is happening, it's happening silently and the rest of you are none the wiser to it."

"That doesn't make me rest assured."

You laughed. Astarion smiled at you, the kind of smile that made his eyes seem a little less dark and made you really remember that he was an elf.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm going back to camp," he said. "I'm sure there's much to discuss about these...impertinent creatures who keep attacking us." He kissed your cheek and whispered into your ear, "I'll see you tonight, darling. What we do is up to you."

Before he could leave, you reached over and held his cheek, kissing him firmly on the lips. He smiled into it.

"Lovebirds," Karlach groaned, rolling her eyes, "will you please get a room?"

"The next time we stop at an inn—yes," Astarion said, winked at you, then disappeared into the woods.

You gulped. "I pity whoever is in the room next to us."

Karlach snorted. "I pity you and your poor cervix!"

"Karlach!" You splashed her with water and she roared with laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Only slightly."

You huffed, scooped up your weapons, and started back to camp. Karlach followed.

"I mean, in all honesty, you two were so loud that first time we all heard you at camp, even though you snuck away. Kept us all awake, but you sounded like you were having a good time. So clearly he's doing something right, but can you take all of that every time? You were walking with a limp the next morning—"

"Okay, let's change the subject," you said loudly, heat racing through your body. Remembrance pulsed through you again, ghostly touches and reminders of just how easily Astarion made you scream.

She giggled. Gods, she was spending too much time with you and Astarion; he was rubbing off on her. "Oh, yes, because what would poor Gale say if he heard?"

You rolled your eyes. "It's not Gale I'm worried about, it's Astarion. If he hears you, he's going to become insufferable."

"Isn't he already?"

You whacked her with the flat end of your sheathed dagger. She laughed, putting her hands up in surrender.

The others were cleaning up camp when you arrived, scrubbing blood from tents and carpets and hauling away corpses and severed limbs.

Gale waved when he saw you, then jerked his thumb toward Astarion. "Didn't he just wash?"

You looked over at your vampire, only to find him feeding on a goblin. He looked up at you and grinned sheepishly, a trickle of blood sliding out of his mouth and down his neck.

"I just washed him, actually," you said dryly. "Astarion, you aren't that messy of an eater. What on earth are you doing?"

"Oh, so now you deign to eat the goblins," Karlach scoffed.

He shrugged. "What? I'm hungry!"

You spluttered. "You could have just asked me!"

Astarion wiped his mouth with a feral grin. "Well, I'll keep that in mind later, darling." He winked at you and then blew you a quick kiss. He shoved the carcass into the woods and went into his tent, closing the flap behind him.

Gale sighed heavily before looking back at you. "That one. Are you sure you want to choose that one?"

"Yes, Gale, I want that one."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

~❊~

Night fell. One by one, the others retired to their tents. Only Karlach and Gale remained awake when you left the fire and slipped into Astarion's tent.

He was laying on his side, reading and drinking blood, the picture of leisure. He closed his book immediately when you laid beside him and pulled you flush against his body.

"There you are," he said, snuggling into your shoulder. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming."

You reached up and dragged your fingers through his perfect curls. "You don't have to wonder about that ever, Star. As long as I live, I'll be coming home to you. Even if I have to crawl."

"Gods, I love you," he said, wrapping himself around you. You kissed the top of his head.

"I love you, too," you whispered. He sighed happily and cuddled into you, sliding one of his legs between your own and settling there. A few minutes later, you felt the pressure of his knee against your clothed crotch. "What are you doing, mister?"

He grinned at you, showing both fangs. "Finishing what I started," he said cheekily. He began undoing the lacing at the front of your pants. "Now, just lay still for me, dear. And please do your best to keep quiet—I'd hate to have to cover that pretty mouth with my hand. Again."

☞ ❊ ☜

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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin

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[headcannonsbutwrittenbyasnake]

Some of My Genshin Impact mains (current and past) but as cat personalities I've seen and lived with

Xiao

The "Unhand me Fool! I Will Paint the wa- Oh hey, This is nice."

Violence is his love language <3

Was probably found in a trash can alone and feral

SMALL, like mistaken as a kitten despite being full grown small, with sleek black fur and yellow eyes. If it wasn't for the small bits of green on the tips of his tail and ears he would blend in with the shadows

Again- feral, but a ride or die once you get his trust

You don't need a guard dog with him around

Actually you don't need anyone around!!!!(he's jealous)

God forbid you're talking on the phone around him

He won't do anything to you, he just stares

If he's asleep around you, and you leave while he's still asleep and he wakes up- he panics

Where are you?? Did you just up and leave? Did he do something bad in his sleep? He just panics until you come back

"Xiao what's the matter? Did something spook you?" "Meow meow!" (You came back! You do still love me!)

Seriously he kinda has attachment issues... if it's just the two of you living together. With the other cats. He's... fine with them, doesn't really trust them at first

Decides Razor and Albedo makes good company

Is on okay terms with Kokomi and Tighnari,

With Wanderer and Al-haitham, it's on sight

They'll play nice if you're around, but one you leave the house, it's go time

After the fight, it doesn't really matters who wins, they just need to make sure you don't find out.

Kokomi and Tighnari fix their fur and make sure the house is in order while the winner sits in the window, waiting for you to come home, and the loser sulks.

Razor

The "I'm Totally a Cat, Trust me!"

A scruffy, medium-sized, light grey cat, not a kitten but also not full grown. Kinda in that awkward cat phase

Probably found by someone's pet dog

Dog just took a look at scruffy little Razor and thought "Alright you're mine," but the dogs owner is, conventional, allergic to cats

So now he's yours :D

Can't really meow. Kinda just squeaks and/or howls

He just doesn't cat

Doesn't like tall places, takes bits of water instead of just dipping his tongue in, likes playing in water and mud, forgets to clean himself constantly, and just all-around is bad at being a cat

Is fine with being alone for a few hours, but he can't sleep alone. He needs so be with you or on you to sleep

Isn't violent or aggressive to humans or other animals in the slightest, but with bugs and mice. Well they don't last long in your house

Loves living with other cats

Even if Xiao at first hissed at him or Wanderer smacked him on the noggin, he just keeps trying to be their friend

It worked with Xiao, jury's still out on Wanderer

Tighnari's teaching him how to be a cat and Kokomi and Albedo are making sure his fur keeps clean and nice looking

Other than that he's just happy to have more friends in the house

Kokomi

The "Tiny and Cute, but Beats the Neighborhood Dogs Daily."

Menace to society

A medium-to-small sized cat with sleek light pink fur, fading into a light powdery blue at her paws, her ears, and the tip of her tail

Could be a show cat if she wasn't so much of a trickster

She isn't mean, just smart. Waaaay too smart

Likes going outside and luring dogs into her traps

Again nothing mean or life threatening, just kinda funny

Like luring them over puddles that are deeper then they look, or taunting them to lunge at her only to watch them face-plant into a glass door or scaring them with their reflection

Doesn't trick you, you're her favorite human!

Not really a snuggle cat, but likes laying on you and having the occasional head scratches

Over all, a pretty good, mostly normal cat

I say mostly because if she sees any water, she wants in it

Sink full of soapy water? She doesn't care, let her swim. A bathtub of warm water? Ah her favorite. A fish tank with no cover? Well the fish are luck she doesn't see them as prey! A whole swimming pool? Sign her up, she's swimming laps!

If you have a cup of water and aren't paying attention, she's going to stick her paws into it. Not to drink, just to swish around

Flat out leads the other cats like an army

Oh? The mice are trying to invade thier land? Alright, Razor go get Xiao and Wanderer

Outside of the mouse turf wars, or other threats to tge house, she doesn't really interact with them much

Wanderer

The "Appears out of Nowhere Just to Watch you Scream, (you Swear he's Laughing.)"

Roughly the same size as Xiao, but less malnourished

Literally just the cat in his story quest (or was it in the Archon quest, I can't remember.)

Was left at a cat shelter and considered un-adoptable, but you said fuck it and took him home

Has little dog syndrome despite being a cat

You swear he teleports

You turn around for one second, then turn back, and he's there

Snickers when you jump, and pouts when you catch him off guard

Be careful when you pet him, he tends to get overwhelmed easily.

And then he bites

Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave a mark

After a while though he gets more comfortable with it

The type of cat to sleep on your face

Also very picky about food and what water

Only drinks ice water (spoiled brat)

Has an ongoing rivalry with Xiao

They often see who can catch the most 'invaders' (i.e. the mice, bugs, and other pest)

While he might seem like he hates the other cats, he's the first one to jump into the fray for them

Did once absolutely decimate a dog because it was chasing Kokomi (he didn't know the chase was part of her plan)

Albedo

The "Hey I found this, I want to keep it." And also "What are you doing? Where are you going? What are you eating?"

A medium sized, kinda fluffy, blonde cat with bright blue eyes. Also has a strange marking on his neck, kinda like a scar

Just kinda walks in through a open window one day, and stayed

Nosy real fucking nosy.

A shopping bag- What's in it? Oh you bought a new backpack- let's see if he can fit in it! On the phone? With who?

A leash cat

Please let him explore around, he's so curious

Will bring you LIVE mice- just don't scream or else he will panic and drop it

Will also bring you other things too

Rocks, feathers, bottle caps, a kitten, twigs

Wait a kitten?

Yep, he brought home a little blonde kitten with red eyes. I think you can guess who it is...

He is now her parental unit.

He tries to keep her out of trouble, but it's kinda hard.

Him and Klee have accidentally broken something on multiple occasions

They both sit in the corner ashamed of themselves

Albedo is not really a 'cuddle' cat

Or a 'people' cat (atleast people who aren't you)

If you have guest over, he'll just watch

Not with a mean or angry look, just looking

Him and Tighnari are planing something, you don't know what it is, and it's suspicious

(The plan is just how to wrangle in Wanderer when you're gone)

Al-haitham

The "Please for the love of God don't ask me to do anything other than the bare minimum."

A large, fluffy, grey cat. Has a little spot of green on his chest

Such a pretty cat, but has such an awful attitude

Well that is to anyone but you

Doesn't catch mice or bugs, doesn't do much of anything

He just want to lay in the sun and nap

Gets grumpy if anyone wakes him

Doesn't like Xiao because he tried to get him to do things (Xiao thinks he's a freeloader)

Hides from Razor because he keeps trying to play with him

You know that video of the cat just letting the automatic toy hit them in the face- yeah that Al-haitham

Just wants to do nothing with you

He's laying on your lap whether you like it or not

Don't try to stand up, he'll just dig his nails in

Read to him, he might look like he's napping but he's listening to everything you say

The type of cat to meow if you talk to him

"What do you think? This or that?" "Mreow,"

Shockingly, will use cat beds

Also likes to sleep in clean laundry, that you just folded

The reason you need to now check the dryer before you put wet clothes in

You know those cat who like to lay in the most uncomfortable position? Yeah that's Al-haitham

Tighnari

The "I Have a Schedule and you Will Stick to it!"

A medium sized cat with fluffy dark, nearly black, green fur that has spots of light green around his ears and tail.

He has large ears and a bushy tail, honestly might just be a cat-like fox, but it's hard to tell

You will wake up at 6am on the dot or else

The 'else' is just him screaming at the top of his lungs

Can probably read the clock

He has a routine: Wake up, breakfast, pest hunting, lunch, nap #1, cuddle time, dinner, run around like the devil himself is coming to finally collect your soul, nap #2, stop Xiao and Wanderer from killing each other, more cuddling, make the human get ready for bed, make sure everyone is in bed, then go to bed.

The only reason there is some semblance of order in this house

Like seriously if it wasn't for him, the other would have found a way to burn the house down

Breaks up any fights, stops the others from getting into to much trouble, and making sure Razor keeps his fur clean

Strangly protective of any plants around the house

The only time he'll out right hiss and swip at the others

No Razor! You can't dig around the plant pots, you'll kill them! No, don't eat the leaves!

[itsmeatballworld]

| to the night sky |

pairing | daryl dixon x f!reader

summary | It’s autumn in Virginia so Daryl invites Reader to spend a night cuddling under the stars.

wc | 857

warnings | kisses, autumn time in Virginia, and soft boyfriend!daryl... so nah, no warnings <3

a/n | note this has some spoilers for season 9 but nothing crazy. Also posted on my ao3!!

His eyes were so bright. Bluer than the sky. Bluer than the sea.

You’ll remember that ‘til the day you die.

You tore your gaze away for a second, just to glance up at the tiny twinkling lights above.

His callous hand latched onto yours as the hearth outside flickered in and out. “Should get some rest,” Daryl whispered.

“We should.” Your fingers twirled across his rough palm. “But look… damn, look at those stars. They’re beautiful. You gotta look. The clouds are gonna block them.”

Daryl smiled, his eyes never leaving your face as you watched the sky. “Yeah. Beautiful.”

“You didn’t even peek,” you murmured as his hands snuck around to caress your round hips.

“I did too.” His tone was playful as a smirk etched across his lips.

Tonight, the sky was black and painted in tiny twinkling lights. Dark and looming from the east, thick grey clouds slowly began to shadow the moonlight cascading through the trees.

You were somewhere in Virginia between a dried up creek and spacious woods. Location never mattered anymore. You were living—surviving—and enjoying the brief moments of peace left for the breathing.

Colors of cinnamon, brick red, and yellow as bright as corn litter the ground in piles. It was the fleeting beauty of Autumn, until the heavy rains and mud blur the colors in a dark, murky haze.

Atop the little hill was your makeshift campsite. Daryl tugged and tied each layer down as tight as possible. The lopsided tent with a worn clear-plastic sheet roof showed the sky. An old pail near the zipped-up entrance used as Dog’s water bowl. Wool and cotton blankets dragged from Alexandria covered the thin tent floor. The dying light of a small fire pit was nearly out after hours of ignoring its plea for more firewood. Daryl wanted to keep you safe when visiting. Less light, less problems, he’d murmur.

Tonight, you were snuggled up to Daryl. His arm around your waist, pressing your chest to his in a tight embrace. He loved holding your warm body close, trailing his hands up and down your hips and thighs, as if you were his lifeline.

Tonight was perfect. A peaceful autumn night alone with your lover.

“Aye.” He drops his voice. “You should head back in the mornin’. Safer in the sunlight.”

Back. Back to the group. Back to your home in Alexandria. Back to safety and walls.

“Sure,” you mumbled.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you liked being outside the walls of safety. You liked the wondrous and dangerous world surrounding you. Life was precious but you never wanted to waste time living in a bubble. “Come with me?”

Daryl paused, his fingers drawing light circles into your skin. It might not have been words, but you knew his answer. No. He had a job to do. Look for Rick.

You sighed, resting your head into the crook of his neck. “Alright… but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” Breathing in deeply you tried to bury the smell of him in your memory. He smelled like homemade soap and tobacco.

“Carol stopped by, huh?”

The stoic man let out a soft chuckle. “You can tell?”

“Soap… a new haircut… blankets without holes? I’d say she prepped you with the good stuff for this weekend.” Those blue eyes were glued on you. His fingers trailed your side until he dug in a bit deeper. He hugged your curves into his body like he never wanted this to end.

“Mmhm.” Daryl smiled. “Good stuff.”

Your hands slipped up his chest, digging your fingers into the cotton tee. “Hole-less blankets,” you giggled. “Gosh, Mr. Dixon, you know just how to please a girl.”

He grumbled as he tugged the waist of your pants down an inch. “Anythin’ for my girl.”

That deep, raspy voice scratched an itch deep in your soul. “Your girl, huh?” Your lips pressed into his as those rough hands wound underneath your clothes.

He grumbled a response as he continued to kiss you deeply. Every morsel of your being tingled and buzzed with excitement to be near him. To be so close to him.

Maybe it was the forced time spent together, but Daryl Dixon is someone you never thought you’d get after the world stopped moving forward. You never thought you’d have a man who loves you so deeply. Who pines for you. Who finds you funny—and genuinely laughs at your jokes. Some days he doesn’t talk much but hugs you from behind and kisses the crook of your neck. It was love. Pure, endless love.

He pulled back from your lips. The hazy look of exhaustion mixed with lust washed over him. “C’mon, I mean it. Get some sleep.”

“How can I when you kiss me like that?” You smiled as those blue eyes lingered on your swollen kiss-stained lips.

Daryl grunted. He pecked the edge of your smile before pulling you into a tight cuddle. “Sleep.”

You closed your eyes.

The night sky was beautiful but all you could think about were those bright blue eyes.

><<>><

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a/n 2.0 | ily *mwah* and ily daryl dixon

[genshin-impact-redesign]

I absolutely love the redesigns you showcase! They’re so gorgeous and the artists are talented!

Can I ask for your opinion on the design of my Dottore Segment OC Natalia? Keep in mind I didn’t make her outfit design as complex as hoyo does for their characters because I am not drawing all that detail.

OOUGHH

I am a sucker for multi-layered, long dresses. It gives a very medical vibe, which can either be inviting (ala cute/trusting nurse) or can be intimidating. They defo give off the latter vibe, like a creepy WW1/WW2 style nurse garb. Also the curly but still spiky hair makes me think of rose petals with thorns somehow <3 I also adore the little rope that keeps the mask and feathers attached to her shoulder, its a nice bit of asymmetry :D

Also I 100% get you on not wanting to draw all that detail!!

I actually study concept art at the moment, so I know a decent bit about character design. I'll put a more detailed analysis of the design + some ideas for them under a cut so you can choose whether or not you wanna read that, but I think she's super cute and I love her name <3 I would pull her

So the biggest thing I've noticed is that the design could use a bit more contrast, but since they're still meant to be monochromatic like Dottore's design, I'll compare to him to show what I mean by contrast!

If we put a black & white filter over the image, we can see that dottore has a lot of dark layers underneath bright layers, and then more dark layered on that! The contrast could be increased on her existing clothes (make the lightest colours lighter, make the darkest a bit darker) or you could add a few more layers so that contrast is spread throughout, instead of being localised to the mask & boots.

You could make the belt on her skirt a darker colour, change the shoulder piece to be darker, brighten the shirt, etc!

Another way Dottore's design has contrast is through the greys:

If we look here, his boots are actually more of a warm grey. This is the same with all of the metal detailing too! So even though his design is very monochromatic since it's all blue, there's a tiny bit of contrast created by making the neutrals warm tinted.

All the neutrals are slightly yellow/green hued, so they're warmer than blue without being extremely far from blue :) So you could make Natalia's boots & gloves more warm hued to get additional contrast :D

Lastly, you could exaggerate her silhouette by adding more volume to each of the layers of her skirt.

I don't have my tablet on me right now so I just did a quick draw over to show what I mean:

Just having each layer stick out a bit more so it stands out. You could also exaggerate the feathers on her shoulder if you wanted :D The simplicity of the outfit works super well for her actually, so having each layer stand out more will really elevate that!!

Despite the long winded explanation of colour theory, I really like her design and it'd only need a couple adjustments to improve, but she's so cute as is and you did an amazing job making her <3

OH AND LOOK AT WW1/WW2 NURSES they're amazing inspiration for plague-doctor style dresses. I used them as reference in one of my character designs for an assignment.

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

the second, cooler gravity falls post

anyway, this one requires a bit of context. did you know that this creature has synesthesia? well, now you do! specifically, the kind that makes you associate different things with colors (and patterns and...its a bit hard to explain. its mostly about the colors)

without further ado, lets talk about what synesthesia-assigned colors the gravity falls casts' names are (of course everyone sees them differently, this is just how i see them)

---

Gravity Falls and Pines are both green! More specifically, Gravity Falls is a slightly desaturated green and Pines is a deeper, darker shade. They also both have a bit of somewhat dull orange thrown in

Stanford/Ford/Sixer - as a whole: bright electric blue, dark melancholy blue, bloody red, silver. Stanford is slightly reddish-brown + labcoat beige, Ford is a pale sienna with a tiny bit of ash thrown in, Sixer is dark coral + dusty rose

Stanley/Stan/Lee - as a whole: burgundy, bloody red, and ash. Stanley and Stan are both shades of red, though Stan is lighter and more vibrant. Lee is a sort of pale, desaturated yellowish green (it looks nicer than youd imagine it would)

Fiddleford - this guy is green as hell. it gets more yellowed and dusty as time goes on, until hes eventually more dusty yellow than light green

Mabel - bright pink and a sort of warm, pale yellow. the shade associated with stars and dreams (realizing now that that might not make any sense)

Dipper - torrential downpour blue. color of mist at night

Soos - shade inbetween Gravity Falls green and Pines green. also a very dark shade of green

Melody - pale warm colored with no yellow! a sort of mix between orange and red, leaning more towards reddish. coral if coral was made of meat, mayhaps (like with Lee, its a lot nicer to look at than it sounds). also a bit of purple

The wonderous married couple known as Waddles and Gompers - warm greyish brown

bonus time eras!

Young stans era - youd be surprised! yellow (not highlighter yellow, though)

Mullet stan - reddish brown, burgundy, night but warm-colored

Paranoid ford - grey with just the slightest bit of color thrown in, that color being dusty brown. veins and sleep deprivation (again, something that does not make sense to anyone but me)

Researcher era ford - the most labcoat beige of any ford to ever ford. theres also a bit of dark navy blue, but not much

Pre-betrayal everything - pale green and sickly yellow

Post-betrayal everything - a lot of dark greyish color. extinguished crimson and spiderweb blue

Portal era from Ford's side - navy/ocean blue, cool grey, slate. imagine you were looking at a neon sign (the kinds where only the lettering is neon). the blue/grey/slate is the background, the lettering is vibrant reddish-orange and pink

Portal era from Stan's side - pale orange and yellow, some pine-bark-brown. you would think there would be a lot of grey, but theres really only a tiny bit

Weirdmaggedon - hoo boy thats a lot of dark dark red and orange and firey colors and- wait what do you mean weirdmaggedon isnt yellow? not even a little bit? huh.

Sea grunks era - dark ocean blue and cool grey :]

[youtubeyouniversitytherapy]

Featuring the Beatles || Color Theory Therapy Exercise

Rosanna sat at her window, just taking in the sunset. The way the sky changed in vibrancy, the watercolors gradient and blending together. Her stomach warm and fuzzy, like the warmth of the tones streaking their paintbrush into the clouds, was setting happy little rays in her belly. She took in a slow, deep breath. Her hand cupping her face as she leaned on the windowsill.

The deep oranges taking her away for a minute, like memory captured on an old video recorder, the light behind her eyes blinking red as they played out the scene.

The Alpha rooftop, warm with the fading yellow of Summer reaching Dusk.

-"I'll tell you something, I think you'll understand, When I'll, say that something, I wanna hold your hand,”

As she sat on her bed, a familiar croon played a soft, drunken melody outside her window. Closing her book, her heart picked up pace. He was there, wobbling, stumbling forward.

Young, foolish smile, kind eyes, trimmed hair, stubbly face, crawling to the tempered pane of her room. 

That night was... full of emotions.

Exhilaration, together at a Greek row party, much like the ones that had been sprouting back up recently. Body shots. The taste of his skin, the slight salt of his sweat blending with the liquor as it danced on her tongue. 

As she remembers, blush tints her face, matching the pink of the clouds and the bits of light speckling rays from them, glinting in her eyes. Her skin hot like the sunburst background before her, like the sunburst background of her thoughts.

The coyness of flirting with each other, with the unknown of what was to come, the unnamed casualness of their endeavors thus far, 'just having fun'. 

Heat pooling in her neck now as the colors swirled in new warm patterns, creating shades of coral, peach, tangerine, and amber, all taking flight in present time. 

Lingering stares, the closeness of him just being a breath way, not knowing yet what his lips felt like, what his kiss tasted like, what kind of rapture they could leave her in, only assumption, all of which didn't even come close to the euphoria it assumed. 

That night they came close. So close to kissing, but also... so close to ending it all. All over body shots, drunken words, and a miscommunication. And jealously.

Her hands rung at the memory, clutching white knuckled on the thoughts of then, like the tiny bit of ivory left in the puffy clouds, sinking into crisp topaz and flakes of silver. Her grip not loosening. The thoughts of now.

-“I didn’t care that they drank off of you, Mark. That’s okay. It’s college.”

A flash snapshot from recently, dark grey-blue hues of the quad, peppers over the already playing scene.

--"You're allowed to have fun with your friends, Rosanna"

Then back to the Golden day, standing in her bedroom.

-“She just, kissed me a bunch.” A twisted feeling in her gut. Her chest feeling empty, ready to cave.

It was all scattered, missing pieces, but the ones that mattered laying thick against her third eyed.

-"I shouldn't even be upset... It's not like you're mine. Or we are something specifically."

-“Rosanna, are you not listening to me? Ever? Can’t you tell I’m crazy about you? I don’t hide it well"

And her heart was soaring, just as it soared then.

The delicate reds of the skies shadowing around the room, kissing the corners of his features, painting him like a romance novella's cover. His deep chocolate eyes, shining down with sureness, sadness, real emotion. So much passion, such intensity, thick with purpose. He was so sure and he needed to show her so.

Suddenly their bodies were together, pressed intimately yet innocently.

 The golden hour enrapturing the moments of her mind, feeling younger Ro glowing from the inside, melting in his arms. 

-“Besides ..... When I kiss you…. I want it to be perfect.”

She felt the moment pressing starry against her skin, her smile covered bashfully by her hand now, as if she was there, right now, all over again. Wanting so badly to feel him press against her, feather her bottom lip with his thumb, reassure her of her worth, of her place in his life.

-"Can you go back to being my Roboat now?”

-"Only if you sing again."

A burst of purple kisses the sky, her memory fading with the sunset into hues of indigo, blue, grey, and harsh amaranthine. He dissipates into nothingness, her gaze now back on the vacant rooftops, the oranges, pinks, reds and yellows all in the shadows of night now. The warmth going to a luke warm. A small shiver traces her spine, she rises to her feet, softly closing the curtains.

[coffee-in-veins]

What are your headcanons for DD characters' eyes? We never see them, and as much as it is a hidden gem of a design choice, I've always been curious what other people think of this.

hello hello! o/ thank you for the ask

In fact, I actually do, quite a few of those. I love overanalyzing things, and eyes were a thing I loved poking (figuratively! mostly...) in my characters. I wish naming eye colours wasn't so exhausting, though, because let me tell you it is a mess! It almost feels like everyone tries to outshine the name from another site, so I'll try my best to be descriptive but won't add images because finding proper ones is a doozy.

Please note that mostly I have headcanons for characters used in the fic the most (since most of those headcanons are for writing RRR), and some will be far less thought-through than others.

Abomination/Bigby – dusty green eyes with a bright, yellowish-green shine to them when he transforms or is close to transforming or uses his power; imagine the colour of the veins on his beast form arm's veins.

Antiquarian/Josephine – light, amber eyes, almost the colour of linden honey. Because of them, she looks trustworthy, sweet and approachable, and she knows that. Do with this what you will.

Arbalest/Missandei – light brown eyes with a bit of yellow and a dark limbal ring, which can make them appear black at a glance under a right angle.

Bounty Hunter/Tardif – brown eyes with grey flakes, but very few people ever saw those.

Crusader/Reynauld – bright blue eyes with a steel tint to them and a ring of tiny yellow flakes around the pupil, but those are almost impossible to see from afar.

Flagellant/Damian – striking, pale baby blue eyes which look amazingly out of place on his face and with his stature.

Grave Robber/Audrey – prominent bottle green eyes with a darker ring around the pupils. Prefers dusty-blue clothes to make them look shinier.

Hellion/Boudica – bright, leafy-green eyes with a prominent limbal ring and sparse yellow flakes.

Highwayman/Dismas – dark, almost black, brown eyes with tiny yellowish specks around the pupils, but very few people know about their existence due to him not liking people being close to his face and squinting quite a lot.

Houndmaster/Willam – grey eyes with prominent green flakes, darkening and more green than grey around the pupil.

Jester/Sarmenti – he has incomplete heterochromia; most of his eyes are dark hazel green with sectors of brown in each eye. This was one of the reasons he was forced into the role of a jester, who often had deformities in the middle ages.

Leper/Baldwin – pale brown eyes with milky, hazy pupils due to his deteriorating condition. Used to be brown, maybe with a bit of amber flakes.

Man-at-Arms/Barristan – dark grey eye, paling in colour to the pupil.

Musketeer/Margaret – sapphire blue eyes with hazel flakes around the pupils.

Occultist/Alhazred – dark carob eyes with a greyish ring around the pupil. His eyes probably look dark wine-red/purple if the light falls under a right angle, but that is mostly a result of his Pact.

Plague Doctor/Paracelsus – steel-grey with a prominent, thick dark limbal ring. They appear foggy behind her glasses if she's without her mask.

Shieldbreaker/Amani – dark brown eyes, almost the colour of buckwheat honey, since those are considered the prettiest colour in the part of the world she supposedly is from, and she is 'a beautiful thing' after all.

Vestal/Junia – warm brown hazel eyes with gray flecks which appeared in them after her 'enlightenment'. She believes this was because of her 'rejuvenation' by the Light.

Phew, that was a lot! Hope you liked my ideas ^^ Did they match any of yours?

[sparrowandbee]

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

The Sparrow: Chapter 12: The Survivor

Synopsis: After two weeks of uncertainty, Marian and Haymitch are finally reunited, but Marian must face the reality of being a survivor.

Warnings: Grief, swearing.

Word Count: 1109

I opened my eyes, barely remembering when they had been closed. I was lucid on the hovercraft ride back to the Capitol, trying my best to not drift off before I saw Haymitch.

The mammoth hovercraft floated above the arena and I almost forgot to drop the axe as I held onto the ladder. It took me a while to process where I was, the cold, silver interior of this aircraft was nothing like the one that had brought me into the arena. It felt a lot more sterile… or maybe it had felt less foreboding with Haymitch by my side. Even though I was physically whole, I was still escorted into a medical room where I sat on a gurney for the entire ride back. 

No one came in. Against the white lights overhead, I craved any human interaction. I couldn’t detach a body from a person, not after everything I had seen. I just needed to hear a voice, feel a touch. Remind myself that I’m still alive. So I laid back and started talking.

The light blue sheets of the gurney were cold against my bare arms, but the chilly room was welcome after so much sun. 

“My name is Marian Cartwright,” I tell myself. I hadn’t really spoken out loud for two weeks, I realized. I had tried so hard to shrink myself in the arena, but I couldn’t let myself forget who I am now. Not after going through so much to retain myself. Not after killing them. 

“I am 18 years old, from District 12. I work outside the coal mines. I embroider flowers and I- I see beauty in everything.” Deep breaths. Tears started pooling in my eyes as I recentered myself towards the person I am and away from the monster I was forced to become. Would I ever look at crimson poppies at the market without seeing my bloodstained hands? Would I ever be able to run through the woods, crunching twigs under my sure gait, unafraid of an imaginary threat? “I see beauty in everything,” I force myself to repeat, more of a whisper through grated teeth.

More deep breaths. Whatever those answers, I knew I wouldn’t get them now… it was a wisdom that only time would tell. 

Maybe the adrenaline had run out or maybe there was something in the air of the confined room, but I soon dozed off but didn’t dream of anything. I wouldn’t truly be alive until I saw him again- it was as if the whole world was put on pause until my brown eyes met his grey again.

-

The ground beneath me no loner rumbled. My hair had been pulled back and my skin felt plump and moisturized, though still a bit sore from the sunburns. It took me a while to regain full consciousness as flashes of the blue sky and city soundscape of the Capitol returned to me. He was sitting beside me, his eyes bloodshot and hair tangled. Yet it was the most beautiful sight I ever had the privilege of witnessing. 

My eyes fluttered open and my vision focused on his upturned lips and crinkled eyes. The dim yellow light looked almost like a halo around his untidy curls. The only thing proving to me that he is real is the soft touch of his callused fingers tracing my hairline. 

He is real. He was there. A visceral sob escaped me, one that came from deep within me. I felt tiny as I jumped into his arms, burrowed against his alcohol-tinged shirt. I’ve never been happier to feel his warm, sour breath against my head, and his large, rough hands against my back. His chest quivered simultaneously with mine as we shared tears in a suffocating embrace.

“You’re safe. You’re safe,” He whispered into my ear as he held me tighter. “You’re going to be okay. It’s over now.”

It’s over. I was in his arms and it was all over.

At that moment, I let myself believe that the worst was behind us.

He laid down next to me and I let my head fall on his chest as he wrapped his arms around my curled-up frame. It felt like a dream, to have a slice of heaven after a living hell.

We stayed static in our bubble of warmth until Haymitch broke the ice with a soft whisper, “I had no idea you had it in you,” he spoke to the white roof above. “I couldn’t believe it… and you did it at such close range. I couldn’t even do that.”

I kept my eyes closed, focusing only on the warm stream of tears running across the bridge of my nose and onto his button-up. I didn’t want to think about that.

“I know it's not easy, and it won’t be easy to live with it, but I need you to know how proud I am of you for coming back,” he continued, despite my silence. His voice was shaky. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re alive, Marian.”

Not M. Marian. It sounded like a song against his tongue. No one’s ever said my name like that, so overflowing with love, like a verbalized sunny day.

I pushed my body upward until my nose met his, just a hair’s width apart. I touched him like he touched me, running my fingers against his toned arm. I looked at him, trying to memorize every line and dot on his face, to capture his eyes and nose and mouth so close to mine forever.

“You’re going to learn some terrible things about being a victor and that breaks my heart,” I don’t think he’d stopped crying that whole time. Smaller tears were still pooled around his eyes and nose. “But the first one is that I really care about you and that’s dangerous. We have to be careful with Snow-”

I brought my fingers to his lips, feeling their cracked texture and his shallow, warm breath. It was all going to be okay, I told myself. Snow had no one to threaten back home. We would lead a quiet life, just him and I. We would watch the sunset every day and slowly but surely, the world would become beautiful again. 

“I care about you too,” I whispered back. My own eyes were still shiny and wet. 

“I know, my brilliant sparrow, I know,” he said and kissed my finger.

We lay in silence for a few moments, just feeling each other’s heartbeats and counting each other’s breaths- still hardly believing that we were alive to bear witness to that moment.

-

Next Chapter

Masterlist

[wish-i-wasnt-a-coward]

Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844 

-----------------------------------------------

Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes. 

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door. 

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones. 

Suffice to say, the twins were very different. 

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb. 

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle. 

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips. 

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist. 

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression. 

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”. 

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4” 

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!” 

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work. 

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton. 

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen. 

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler. 

“That’s really good pat-” 

“Shhhhhhhh”

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun. 

---------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school” 

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands. 

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building. 

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job. 

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched. 

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded. 

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe. 

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work” 

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will. 

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director. 

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t  look marginally like a cave. 

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects. 

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before. 

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid” 

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding. 

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep. 

----------------------------------------

Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was. 

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family. 

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree. 

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day. 

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up. 

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Strange Side Quests

Geralt of Rivia x (f)reader

- reader is part of my Of Monsters and Men series

Summary: After some fortune teller had given you two a tarot paired with directions to a town. You find yourselves on a new adventure, but is the coin worth it?

Warning: blood and gore, fluff, slight smut mention, reader being a smartass, Geralt loving reader unconditionally up in here; also reader is half human half vampire. Enjoy!

Kicking a rock across the beaten down path until the tiny grey object flies into a nearby bush. You let out a dramatic huff in boredom, how you almost wish Jaskier was traveling with you now to fend off the silence. Then maybe this trek to Vizima wouldn't be so tedious and lengthy, oh if you only knew where that bard had traveled off to. On second thought, maybe you don't.

The surrounding area is forest on both sides, tall trees with leaves turning colors of reds, oranges, and yellows as autumn calls them home to the earth. A brisk wind causes your long dark coat to flap against your legs while you walk side by side with Roach.

The day is bright and beautiful, evening it is with puffy white clouds that scatter across the large blue sky. You absolutely love this time of year on the Continent, and how else would you rather spend your traveling time then with a smelly mare and a Witcher all to yourself.

"We should look for a place to set up camp." Says Geralt, "Looks like it's going to be a cold night."

"For you." You can't feel the cold, however, he does.

Geralt hums, "Then perhaps we could find a way to keep warm."

"A fire usually does the trick. Also no worries, you can use my blanket and coat to keep warm, I'll just sleep naked under the starlight." You add with a telling smirk, eyes glancing over at Geralt who shares a knowing look with you.

"Y/N, you speak dangerously."

You smile, "These are just simple words coming out of my mouth. Solutions to your chilly night problems so my dear Witcher does not feel like an ice sickle. Nothing more."

He snorts, "Yes and the sky is red."

"It could be." You laugh, "I knew a mage once who could turn the clouds green. It was quite something to witness and it was definitely real."

"Well green clouds will not prevent me from shivering if we don't find a place to set up soon."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it." You mutter before giving him a wink and shifting into a pack of bats, flying off down the trail in search of a suitable place to set up camp. Somewhere far off enough from the trail where a fire cannot be seen by any unwanted prying eyes, and somewhere that's flat enough.

In no time at all have you located a spot under a thick pine tree not too far away from where Geralt is still riding. Leaving the place at once, you find Geralt again before changing back into your original form to better lead Roach to the area. Thankfully making camp doesn't take too long, because before you even knew it darkness had begun to creep into the valley and away goes your light and the last bits of the suns warmth.

Blanketing the woodland in pitch blackness with lack of even a tiny sliver of moon, nothing but dark sky and earth. Luckily with being half vampire and all, you're able to see in the dark just fine as you would in daylight, the world just appears as cool blues and greys with lack of firelight. So here you are now, on stick duty to keep that fire glowing so Geralt doesn't get cold and start whining about it.

With arms full of dry sticks, you start heading back to camp without incident until you take a step into the firelight that's illuminating a small glow around the tiny camp. A silver sword is sent mere inches from your face, you stiffen before sending a raised brow at the golden eyed man behind it.

"I presume you thought I was a monster and haven't all of a sudden decided it's time to cut down your dearly beloved...Correct?"

Geralt immediately brings the sword to his side, face flashing with annoyance for himself, "Correct. Maybe I'm still a little jumpy after last night's debacle."

You set the pile of sticks next to the fire, "Oh right, that one drunken dipshit who walked right into camp looking for somewhere to piss. Fucking idiot couldn't tell his left hand from his right."

"Next time we don't camp next to merchants no matter how nice they are, I honestly thought you were about to cause a murder." Teases Geralt as you sit down across from him, "You were very close."

"And let's not forget about you huh." You add, tone light and playful, "As soon as that fool stepped out from the trees you had your fists at the ready. I was very impressed. Quite the fast reflexes you have...like a rabbit.....a big one."

He simple rolls his eyes, "I wasn't expecting it.....clearly."

"No, and clearly you're still a bit tense."

Geralt tosses a stick in the fire, "Apologies my love, I didn't intend to point a sword at you."

"The silver one at that." You point, "My arch enemy of human weaponry. The cause of my kinds pain and demise, besides the sun of course...and werewolves."

"Silver." Says Geralt, "For monsters, which you are not."

You tilt your head, raising a brow at him, "My red eyes say otherwise. Maybe subconsciously your inner Witcher is always ready to take me out. Hence why you snatched up your silver blade and not the steel one."

Geralt shakes his head at your teasing, "It's what I was cleaning when I heard you walking back..."

"Ah! So you knew I was walking back, and yet you still drew your sword on me." You point a finger at him, before setting it down while your brows furrow, "Was that a test?"

"A test?"

"Yes. Did you do that deliberately to see if I would do something about it, the sudden sword in my face?" You ask, knowing he did it accidentally though you're having too much fun egging him on about this.

"Well we weren't training, so no."

"Are you certain?"

Geralt blinks slowly before muttering a blunt, "Yes."

You lean back onto your hands, "Yeah alright......so, cold yet?"

"Not at the moment, but I'm sure I'll be soon enough."

You smirk, "If only you were half vampire like me, oh the worries of men are lost to the wind with my life. I have not a care in the world with who I meet or where I go, it's the world who is cautious about me passing through it."

"I am writhing with envy." Replies Geralt bluntly, voice obviously sarcastic.

You nod, "Understandable. You're not as fast, strong, or cunning as I, thankfully you have your fighting skills and bodily muscle to keep you alive. Also you are an incredibly attractive man, but that only gets you so far." You send him a wink.

He forces himself not to crack a grin, "What's that cunning to say about you? Your half vampire, in love with a Witcher. That's quite the predicament wouldn't you say?"

"It is. But who was the one who fell first for the other here? A Witcher is supposed to slay all monsters. Aren't I part monster?"

Geralt's expression turns oddly serious and sentimental as he looks into your gaze, "You are still no monster to me."

"Well, I think I like that answer." You add, "I must have just found the right Witcher when I needed him most."

"Maybe you're right."

You let out a laugh, "You're allowed to say destiny. The word is not going to slap you in the face like an angry whore for speaking it this once. Destiny Geralt. Destiny."

He doesn't say a thing for a long moment until he finally shrugs before saying, "Fated circumstance."

You cackle with laughter, falling onto your back as you hold your stomach from laughing so hard. Geralt just shakes his head at you, smile apparent while you try and regain yourself.

"Fated circumstance?" You repeat, "My gods you're something else.....and all mine."

He smiles at that before glancing from the bunched up blanket next to him then back to you, "Were you serious about sleeping naked?"

"Only if you'll indulge me for some physical pleasure. Just a little."

He raises a brow, "A lot?"

"A lot works too." You nod, standing up on your bent knees as you take off your shirt, "Just keep that sword over there, I don't fancy getting burnt by that silver shit before I climax. Kind of ruins the mood."

He sets his shirt on the grass, "We wouldn't want that. Not at all." ——

Crouched down by a burnt tree off to the side of the path, you poke at the crispy squared chunks of bark that break and crack when your dagger touches it. From behind, you can hear the thump of Geralt's boots against the grass as he dismounts from Roach.

His footsteps approach, as do the mares. Geralt's dark boots stop at your side. "Feels like magic."

You purse your lips together and hum, "A mage practicing fire magic perhaps? That's supposed to be banned..who's to say anymore, some mages do as they please with little regard for others. Hmm, all I smell here is burnt wood and squirrel."

"I was hoping you'd say it was just a storm."

You stand to face him, "It was just a storm."

He gives you a deadpanned stare, blinking slowly, "Lets just find wherever this tarot leads us."

"Oh that thing! Right." You mutter before walking around to Roach's side pack and pulling out the tarot. "This here." The tarot shows a shimmery red background with four rocks floating in a circle around a wooden staff and two purplish white lighting strikes printed on opposite corners of the card. Whatever the hell any of that means.

Geralt's golden eyes trail over the mysterious markings, "The name that woman gave us what was it again? Vizla...Vezlo...Vizeth...something like that I think?"

You shake your head at him, "Well it's certainly a good thing I'm here. None of those were even remotely close."

"Alright then what's the name?"

"Vizima."

"I was close."

"Knowing the actual name would get you far, knowing a variation of the name would get you five leagues in the wrong direction."

Geralt shakes his head at you, "Alright then, do you remember what that old fortune teller told us?"

Flicking the tarot, you nod, "The old fortune teller said we must head to Vizima in search of the towns only mage where we will get all our questions answered." You add with a dramatic flair of your hands, “Then she made her windchimes move on their own, however I cannot do that nor do we have windchimes.”

"She didn't say where this mage is, now did she?"

"First off, if I was to say a random name would you have believed me?"

Geralt opens his mouth but pauses for a moment as his brows furrow in thought, "Depends on how convincing it would sound."

"Well it doesn't matter because the cranky old bird didn't say shit about where this so called mage of Vizima is. So, all we gotta do is ask around which shouldn't be too hard if the place only has one mage."

"Right. This town can't be that big if its in the middle of a forest."

"Right. Easy hunting." ——

"And don't be comin' round here you fuckin' red eyed pointy toothed bastard!" Shouts a bearded round faced tavern owner as he spits onto the mud, "We ain't tellin' you not a single thing ‘bout that mage or his whereabouts in the north end!"

You lend the potbellied man a humored grin as you nod, hands folded behind your back, "Ah wonderful, so it's a he and he roams the north district somewhere around that area huh, very good." You send the angered man a wink, "You have been so inadvertently helpful so thank you and your kind heart for that very very much."

He scowls before glancing at the two biggest men standing in the small market crowd off to the side, they nod in silent mutual understanding before walking towards you. Unsheathing a sword each, faces dirt smudged and less then friendly.

You raise a brow at them, "Oh well come on now I'm just a defenseless woman trying to get some answers." They keep walking, you take a step back, "Okay guys must we do this? I mean I didn't even bring my dagger, can I at least have a stick?" You ask before the curly haired one swings his sword at you.

In a blurred flash have you practically disappeared from his grasp while he swings at nothing but air. Both him and his blonde friend whip around to face your smirking face. You give them a wave, "I really don't see how killing me will do any good. I’m fantastic if you haven’t just noticed and Geralt would miss my lovely face and even lovelier lady par..”

Blondie circles the blade in his hand threateningly, "No one bothers our mage. That's the rules."

You throw your hands to the air in bewilderment for how this whole interaction is going, "Made by who? The mage?" The blonde begins running towards you, he swings but you're gone in a flash. Standing casually off to his right, "That's not very social of him. How's he going to meet anyone new?"

"He don't like meeting anyone new." Grumbles the curly haired man as he takes a bold step forward, "And we don't like outsiders. 'Specially a half demon like yourself." He spits onto the muddy ground in disgust yet again.

You grimace, "Unnecessarily rude. You kiss your mother with that jabbering pie hole you call a mouth?"

He chuckles darkly, "Don't have no mum." They both start taking cautious steps closer, intent to kill apparent.

"oh that's nice, guess no one's going to cry if you're bleeding in the dirt then." They don't have a second to speak as you've already thrown them to the mud covered marketplace. Swords flung across the matted sludge as they both groan and moan in pain.

You turn to face the man who summoned them, his eyes are wide as he locks gazes with you, you take a step towards him while he takes a step back. You stop and tilt your head at him, "Where is the mage? Exact location in this shitstick of a town and you'll keep your cock for another day because don't worry." You hold your hands up, "I don't like to kill people, however I will maim and cut choice body parts off."

The man points left, "N-north district, tallest house there, you can't miss it."

You smile, fangs prominent as you show off your pearly whites to the nervous man, "Now that wasn't so hard." You then give a little nod, "Good day." You add before walking off to find your wandering Witcher, and by the scent of him he's a little ways past all the popular taverns.

When you finally spot him by a stall selling all sorts of shiny nick nacks and beautiful jewelry, he's standing there trying to understand a dwarven man speaking in the thickest accent from wherever he is you've ever heard. By the looks of it all, Geralt's nod getting anywhere.

Approaching his side, you set a gentle hand upon his right armored shoulder when he gives you a warning look until he realizes it's just you. You hand him a grin, "Making friends are we?"

"No." He grumbles out.

"Buying me something pretty then?" You tease, "Something big and sparkly for a royal lady of the court, a stand out admirable gem. Fit for a princess.." You lean in to whisper, "..which is what I am. I believe I deserve it, by law and by my blood." You are the daughter of the vampire queen after all, however that doesn't get you far with this type of crowd.

Geralt raises a brow, "And what would you do with a.." His golden eyes wander over the table of jewelry then to the hanging necklaces as he reaches a hand out to hold one dangling from a hook, "...one of these?"

"Wear it. What else would I do with it?"

He lets it go, "Alright. Oh I had forgotten, we don't have the coin."

You press a finger into his leather armored chest, "You don't have the coin."

He smiles a pursed lipped grin at your theatrics, you're just stalling to find that mage since you have a deep rooted love/hate for them in general. Geralt removes your hand from his chest, "Another time." He says before looking at the dwarven man, "Not today, we have somewhere to be."

"Oi yuh relvy? Wecha beva couym ack." He rambles with a nod. Both you and Geralt wander elsewhere, leaving the jewelry stand to round a corner and talk to one another somewhere quieter.

The two of you face each other, "You found where the mage lives didn't you?" Implores Geralt as your brows furrow.

"Did you understand a single word that guy said?"

He takes your hands with his in an attempt at getting you to focus, "Y/N, I know you found where the mage lives."

"How would you kn.."

"That vendor was exclusively selling silver jewelry."

You open your mouth to speak but stop and look off to the side, "oh." Your eyes wander around the vendor lot until you face him again, "Hadn't noticed."

He holds back a grin, "Now where is the mage?"

Your face falls as you then show off a scowl, "He is located in the north district, yunno only big pointy tower in the whole section? Oddly resembles an erect penis, that one?"

Geralt snorts, "Yes I remember seeing it."

"I like to think every mage held up in their prick tower is a reflection of their own personal attitude...which is they're all pricks and we cannot trust them." You point, "Most of them at least."

Geralt nods, "Yes. Now let's go find this prick. Shall we?"

You cross your arms and look from him to the path ahead and then back to him again, "Fine. But you're knocking." ——

Thud. Thud. Thud.

You stand off to the side, arms crossed defensively while your snowy haired Witcher knocks on the giant mahogany door covered in vines, using the doors metallic gargoyle head to create such ruckus. Staring back at him with its two dark beady stone eyes and ugly little face, you wish to punt this doorknocker into a pond.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Geralt releases the gargoyle head and takes a step back, soon the twisted vines guarding the massive door move like snakes before receding from their post up into the doorways overhang. You can hear footsteps on the other side when they halt abruptly at the entrance way, whoever it is remains unseen. The door shimmers a sapphire hue before rippling colors of lapis lazuli as a blurred body forms from within.

Out pops a tan skinned elven boy, glancing curiously between the two of you with his big opal eyes that flicker with every color of the rainbow. "I am Fyrn of the Nimnar Valley. Welcome Geralt of Rivia, the Witcher....and Y/N of Alcatraz, daughter of the Vampire Queen. He has been expecting your arrival."

Both you and Geralt share a mutual look as you then take a threatening step forward, "Does this he of great mysterious title have a name?" The eleven boy simply smiles, he nods, fingers folding together as his eyes trail from Geralt to you.

"He does. But only he can tell you. Now please, come with me." Directs the elven boy Fyrn as he then disappears into the enchanted door. Fucking mages and their magic entranceways.

"Ladies first." Teases Geralt as he points a hand like a polite butler. Setting a hand upon your hip, you tilt your head at him while he simply shrugs, "I knocked first."

Shaking your head at him, you push him back when he makes an attempt to go forward so that you disappear first into the shimmering door of sapphire. Geralt just holds back a laugh while he follows you through the magic door.

After a brief trek to the mages chambers on the second floor, Fyrn knocks on a door of pure oak with strands of gold woven in clusters here and there. Nothing is heard on the other end until he speaks a word in elvish, only then does the door open. He ushers you both inside and just like that does he vacate the area.

Leaving you and Geralt in a giant study filled high with books to either side and a ginormous stained glass window on the center back wall depicting a beautiful woman with wings of black webbing spread behind her. She stands on a bed of skeletons, one arm filled with roses as the other holds delicately a dagger resembling yours.

All around her are colors of purples, blues, reds, and blacks; footsteps are heard on your right, you turn to see the owner. A man as tall as Geralt stands in long robes of dark reds and blacks though his body is noticeably leaner. Hair black, beautiful and long, eyes the color of fire embers he smiles at the two of you warmly. You take notice of an obsidian staff in his right hand, you immediately tense.

The mage rests a hand on his heart before directing it towards you two as a form of greeting, "This is a good day indeed. I have awaited your arrival for many moons and countless suns, I am glad you are here at last." Speaks a soft velvety voice, this mage looks more like a pretty elf then anything human.

"Why has our tarot brought us here?" You ask, "What do you want?"

He smiles, "I will tell you shortly. In the meantime I believe I owe you my name...I am Saraphim of Vizima, mage to this lovely residence and all her people within." Lovely people may be a stretch.

"Very nice." You interrupt, "Now, the reason for us being here? Why the fuck did some fortune teller say Vizima and this here tarot shows us these sticks and shit? Also why us?" You ramble when he brings his hand up to shush you.

"A Witcher knows how to handle a magical situation out of my grasp. However a creature such as yourself can kill it like a deadly adder....especially someone with your kind of gift." Says the mage Saraphim knowingly, "You have what is needed to kill a certain kind of being where it stands, and save countless life in the process."

Geralt grumbles, "Enough with the riddles and mysteries tell us what you want and why our tarot led us to you?"

"There is a rival mage hiding like a coward in the ruins of Vaska three miles east of here, she has stolen a prized artifact of mine and to protect herself has created a golum. If you kill this stone monster I will reward you greatly, and if you are able to kill the mage I will reward you tenfold." Presents Saraphim as he wanders to the center of the room to open up a book laying on a large table holding other various magical type trinkets and other things.

"We'll do it."

He raises a brow at your quick words, "As I expected so."

"Now answer us this." Says Geralt, "How are we to properly kill this creature? They can't be killed by simple swords and arrows."

"No. No they cannot." His ember eyes trail over to you, "You know who this winged woman is?" He looks up at the stained glass.

Your eyes study the colorful piece, "I assume you're going to tell me."

He chuckles lightly, "She is the Vampire Queen, your mother."

"Her hair is longer." Why are you not surprised?

"So it is. I have heard stories of her, fantasized about walking in her court and claiming a title of mage of Alcatraz, being by her side." He says breathless, eyes turning back to you as he snaps back to reality, "Those were just childish fantasies of course. A court of vampires would be no good company for me, so here her beauty remains...and here you stand. Most certainly a close image of her greatness."

"Well I'm certainly not going to fuck you if that's what you're thinking."

Saraphim's eyes widen in embarrassment, "Oh no, no, you misread me my dear princess. I simply admire your mother's great influence and power...you see, I admire the beings of your kind. They are exquisite creatures who walk this Continent, the rulers of the night, beings of beauty and power." He takes a step forward, "And you, you are the most powerful of them all. Half human, half vampire, you walk like a wolf amongst sheep. Never to be broken by the sun.."

"Yes yes I'm very flattered, and a tad weirded out. Now what do you actually want of me?"

Saraphim takes a step back, "May I see your tarot?" You nod before quickly fishing it out of your leather gauntlet and handing it to him. "You see here? The lightening bolts, yes?"

"Hard to miss." Mutters Geralt, feeling a bit more protective over you even though this mage means no ill intent for you. Nor does he appear to be attracted to you.

"Yes good. Well, as it turns out. In order to destroy a stone golum crafted by a witch, wizard, or mage...only lightening magic can do what is necessary."

Geralt's brows furrow, "We don't posses such power."

Saraphim points to the lightening before handing the tarot back to you, "The gift I was speaking of earlier, Y/N's dark gift.." He gives Geralt a quizzical look like this white haired man knows a thing, the Witcher simply hums while the mage nods at this, "..every vampire or dhampir is born with a dark gift. For some it is taking the form of a beast, perhaps manipulation of a humans will, or to read the minds of others. For Y/N here, she needs no magical training..."

"Lightening." Geralt's eyes are on you in a second, "How could I have forgotten?"

You shrug, "I never need to use it.....well apparently until now."

Saraphim smiles, "Precisely. Now can you two do this for me is the final question I ask? After all that I have said?" ——

Throwing a pine cone in the air as you walk beside your Witcher and Roach, you catch the thing once again, completing your rhythm as you go. An almost annoyed scowl marked onto your features while you take a second to breath from your ramblings about the unfriendly tavern goers and the mage. Who has summoned you two for this quest.

You throw the pine cone into the bark of a tree, "Can you do this for me? He says, can you do this because I'm too much of a lazy little fuck to do it myself. Oh, my pretty robes, oh no ahh dirt get it away from me." You add dramatically, flailing your arms like a fearful maiden as you regain your composure, "What do we look like? A courier service for monster hunters?"

Geralt laughs from atop of Roach, "He wants this done for the safety of Vizima, these old ruins are sacred ground to them. And anyways, we need to kill the mage and bring back the artifact."

"He can kiss my ass."

Geralt hums, "He was kind, and seemed to have good intentions."

"He's a loner obsessed with vampires."

"Everyone has a quirk."

You throw him a look, "Yeah alright and what's yours oh great and mighty Witcher who doth know it all?"

"You tell me." Counters Geralt with a friendly smile, enjoying when there's a given moment to challenge you.

"Hmm. Let me see here, oh I know, for one you talk to that horse whenever I'm elsewhere. Oh and you always pat down your bed before laying down..ha like a cat.....and you always stand a bit in front of me when you think I need protection."

"Do I?"

"Yes. Clearly I can handle myself, however I find it adorable so I don't mind." You admit as he shys away with a small grin, golden eyes trained to Roach's leather reins in his gloved hands.

"Hey I think we're at the ruins." He looks up to find an opening in the woodland, a large overgrown field with massive broken chunks of grey stone placed methodically about. Like they are a far off memory of castles long ago.

He clicks his tongue for the mare to halt, "I believe you're right." He then slips from the saddle to stand next to you, "I'll tie her up and then we'll find this damn golum."

You nod before slipping into the woodland in search of some viable sign that a golum is indeed here and not just a dramatic fabrication of a paranoid mage. You walk over some roots jutting out of the earth before kneeling behind a square hunk of stone covered in patches of moss.

In no time does Geralt find himself crouched down next to you, sword out and ready while his golden eyes scan the area ahead. It's not anything too out of the ordinary by any means, the ground is large and open with knee high grass. Stone placed around like they could have been either religiously settled there or are the aftermath of hundreds of years of abandonment.

There is not a place around where a suitable house for a hidden mage could be found. Geralt nudges your side, "Can you see anything I can't?"

"No."

"Smell anything odd?"

"Besides Roach all I can smell is grass and bird shit." You mutter, "Let's get a closer look. Maybe Saraphim was fucking with us just so he could meet me."

"Maybe." Says Geralt as he looks to you, "Have you ever seen a golum?"

"No, just gargoyles. The two are very different though even if they're both creatures of stone." You add, "However I don't think golums can be reasoned with." You stand and jump over the stone edge as Geralt follows suite.

You stand in the knee high grass with him a few feet away by your side, sword at the ready while his eyes trail over the ruins. You look over at him, "I'm going to take a look around, give me a minute and I'll tell you what I see." The Witcher gives a mutual nod as you shift into a pack of bats.

The dark winged creatures flap and squeak as you navigate your way through the old ancient ruins. You fly quickly past downed trees, more field, and a plethora of other ruins with a single one imprinted with a strange marking on it. Revealing a pyramid with two sticks coming out of the top making a v towards the sky. Whatever the hell that means.

Geralt waits patiently where you left him, eyes and ears cautious for trouble as he spots your pack of bats flapping through the ruins headed for him. Soon does the pack lower for the ground as a black mist engulfs them resulting in your beautiful face greeting him yet again.

"See anything?"

"Nothing of any significant but a weird rune I've never seen before. Other then that I really am starting to believe that mage was fucking with us." You mutter before picking up a rock, "I mean, we should have seen a golum by now right? They're made of stone, sticks, and magic..not to mention are fucking huge. How the fuck have we not seen one yet!" You shout in frustration before launching the rock into a large boulder.

The grey object explodes, leaving a small dent in the stones side from the force of your supernatural strength. Geralt drops his hand to his side, "Maybe shout that louder next time."

You scowl at his sarcastic tone, "Alright Witcher what do you got?"

He leans the sword against his shoulder, "Saraphim told us a bit more if you remember.."

"I do.." You pause as your gaze diverts from his, "..maybe I don't because I was too interested in his collection of troll skulls."

Geralt hums, "Well he said in order to wake a golum who's asleep, which I'm assuming is in our best interest here, it must be shot with lightening. A lightening rod and a storm is in order for this to occur, however we are lucky enough to have you."

"Right. Right I knew that, I remember now..it's all coming back to me." You nod as he gives you an unconvincing look, "Now where is this golum huh? So many boulders and ruins here, a stone beast can't be that difficult to find. It's literally a tall humanoid made of stone! Fuck this!" You shout, deep irritation flowing through your body as your fists clench.

Geralt sheathes his blade before walking over to rest a hand on your shoulder, "Maybe the one stone with the rune is our golum. Lead us there and that's where we'll start."

You take a breath, "Alright. It's this way." He follows your lead until you stop at the huge boulder appearing rather unassuming in the grass.

He stands off to the side while you ready your stance a couple yards away, "This better be the fucking golum." You grumble before closing your fists and opening them again to purple flashes of lightening crackling in your palms.

Geralt hides halfway behind an old tree as he watches you bring your hands together before yelling and throwing your arms towards the boulder. Lighting kisses the air as it crackles across the short distance to the stone before crashing into it.

Stone breaks and flies away from the point of impact as you call more lighting to the area for a couple seconds more until you close your fists again, dissipating away the lightening. Breathing a bit heavier now, you tilt your head curiously at the unmoving boulder of rock.

You turn to face Geralt across the small grassy field, "What do I have to do to wake up this damn golum! Tickle it?" You open your mouth to speak more when a crumbling sounds from behind you.

Geralt's golden eyes widen as he steps into the opening, you twist around to watch as a ginormous stone golum creaks and crumbles to life. Standing at around three elk high; the monster appears humanoid with its big stone body. However it's facial features must have been half-assed in the crafting process, as it's face is a pebbly mess.

Whatever it has for sufficient eye sockets trains itself onto your puny form, the stone snorts a dusty mist of dirt as it takes a single step with its huge boulder of a leg. The ground practically shakes as you take a cautious step back, the golum stops and stares down at you.

"Uh Geralt." You mutter nervously, "What do I do now?"

"It can only be killed by a lighting strike."

"Just one?" You swallow as the golum studies if you're friend or foe.

"Three strikes."

Your face falls as you turn your head to then glare at your Witcher, "THREE? THREE FUCKING STRIKES?" You can't help but shout. He's about to answer you when a groaning roar pierces the air, you turn to face the golum. Anger clear on its big ugly face.

The stone beast takes another thundering step forward, man sized arm swinging down towards you right after to wipe your tiny life from this plane of existence. Anticipating this, supernatural reflexes have you standing next to Geralt as the golums huge paw swats nothing but tall grass where you once stood.

The Witcher gives you a double take when he realizes you're right next to him, "Y/N?"

You give him a glance, "What?"

He nods towards the grumbling golum of confused angry stone, "Kill it." You send him a bewildered look as the stone humanoid starts walking closer.

"And what are you going to be doing? Sitting back on a bed of flowers as a forest nymph feeds you grapes naked?"

"Preferably yes."

You shake your head at him as the blundering golum raises its arm to kill you two, in a blurred flash is Geralt and yourself safely atop a tall overturned boulder. "Fine then you handsome cunt I'll do it myself, stay here and don't get killed." He feels the ghost of a kiss as your body materializes into a pack of bats.

In seconds are you swarming around the annoyed golum while he raises his heavy rocky arms to do some damage. Not making any apparent contact with a single bat, the golum becomes even more enraged and roars. Put off by the sudden belching scream of lion-like fury, you vacate the air before materializing on the ground a few feet away.

"Look here you fucking piece of birdshit! Hello there! That's right pay attention to me, just me." The golum takes a step towards you, "That's right, let's go. You and me!" He throws a hand up just as you launch a crackling burst of lightening straight into his center chest. He yells mightily, staggering back like a drunken fool.

Geralt watches from a safe distance as you jump with excitement, he's subconsciously smiling at your theatrics when you land another blow to the pissed off golum. Then just like that do you throw a bolt of electricity straight through the stone monsters stomach. It groans miserably, holding its hollowed out tummy as it then breaks apart where it stands.

Smiling victoriously down at the crumbling stone, Geralt finds himself by your side, "Nicely done." He praises with a genuine grin at your impressive feat.

"Yes I know." You teasingly boast, "Now lets find that fucking mage."

A stick snaps. Out from the woodland does a woman with tangled grey hair step into view, a staff of ebony in her left hand. Eyes of light blue almost glow as they trail from Geralt to you and back again. She smiles grimly, "That was my guardian. Why have you strangers come into my territory?"

"A mage has sent us in search of something you have stolen." Answers Geralt truthfully.

A flicker of hatred flashes through her pale eyes, "Saraphim." She hisses with malice, "And he has sent me two hunters to do his bidding. Clever, last time he sent a party of mercenaries that didn't last longer then a wolf's cry. Nonetheless you will not leave this place with the Neh'tza sephira."

An enchanted stone? That's what the mage in Vizima wants, whatever gets you coin then.

"Hand us over the magic rock and you keep your life."

She scowls at you, staff pointing in your direction, "I think not you undead halfbreed."

Your crimson eyes darken, in a blurred flash do you disappear before halting all movements a few feet to her left. Your hair and clothing sways when you stop to look at the mage. She stands there, eyes wide in shock as a waterfall of blood flows out of her slit throat. Her staff falls to the earth.

She sputters and gags, gasping for breath that never comes while her hands try desperately to stop the bleeding. It seeps through her fingers as you clean your dagger in the grass. Geralt races to her side, "Where is the sephira!" He shouts as she falls to her knees.

He kneels down as she smiles a sick grin, blood still trailing down her neck and hands as it stains her clothing and the grass below. She gargles on broken words of hatred while you walk over to his side. She eyes you fiercely. You point the tip of your blade at her temple.

"I'll make it a quick passing if you tell us where it is. Point to it if you must." She simply slumps to the ground, hands still around her bloody throat as she chokes on laughter.

You unsheathe your dagger before kneeling down to rip off a piece of her clothing's fabric, standing once more, you drink in the scent. Blinking, your eyes gaze up at the woods to find an aurora of her scent leading the way. Perfect.

You glance down at the dying mage, "Sorry about that.....and uh, don't haunt this place or I'll have to kill you again." She smiles a bloody grin up at you before releasing her hands from the slice in her skin. Blood oozes out, the sweet scent causing you to almost drool. She knows what she's doing.

Geralt, eyes flickering between the two of you quickly stands to grab your forearm, "Y/N. Let's go." Your eyes snap up to meet his, "Lead the way." He says, doing all he can to prevent you from ripping the mage to shreds from a sudden spell of bloodlust.

You swallow, "Right. The magic rock." Leading him away towards the forest as your vampiric instincts fight internally within you to stay and feast. Gods the things you do for coin. ——

Bursting through the doors of Saraphim's study, he jumps, dropping a book onto his desk before whipping around to see what all the commotions about. Once his ember irises fall upon your self assured face and that of Geralt's, he relaxes once more.

"You two have survived." He says almost surprised, "This is most fortunate news. Do you have what I asked?"

"Do you have our coin?"

He nods, "Of course." Eyes set to the elven boy by the door, "Fyrn retrieve our friends gold they have rightly earned." The opal eyed boy bows respectfully before disappearing down a hallway.

Saraphim looks expectantly at the two of you, "May I see this object for myself, I must know it is safe and true."

"You mean this magical rock?" You hold up a black sack, undoing the tie as you pull out a rock with a peculiar rune engraved into it. "It's not much but stone."

His eyes light up with excitement, "So you have." He takes a couple steps forward before hesitating, "May I?" He asks.

You hold out the rock, "Please. We've dealt with enough rocks for awhile, I don't care why you needed this and I certainly don't care for an explanation into whatever the fuck this artifact does for you." He takes the rock as you cross your arms, "We'll be satisfied with our coin and gladly to never cross paths with you ever again."

"Very well, I will not bore the lady dhampir and her Witcher of Kaer Morhen any longer then necessary." Agrees the dark haired mage as his elven apprentice walks into the room, "Oh good, Fyrn would you give them their dues."

The elven boy hands each of you a sack of coin, big enough to fit nicely in the whole extent of your hand. You throw the sack up, catching it soon after as you then shake the sack to hear the distinctive jingle of coins. "Very nice indeed."

"Yes." Says Geralt, "It was a pleasure to meet you Saraphim, but we must be going now. Good day."

"Yes, good day and goodbye." You add with a wave of your hand, feet already leading you towards the door.

"Safe travels." He calls after, though you've already made it down the hallway.

What a trip that was.

-

Tagged:  @seninjakitey  @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce​ @diegos-butt​  @a-girl-who-loves-disney​ @beck07990​

[littlemisslipbalm]

I live in the neighbourhood

When Y/N moved to Hampstead she was unaware of the implications the decision would have on the course of the rest of her life.

or

Harry is Y/N’s eccentric neighbour who sweeps her up in the whirlwind that is his life

this gif bc its maybe my favorite clip of him EVER holy fuck - this is the harry of my dreams this is the harry of i live in the neighbourhood

HEY YALL it’s been a minute and I missed yall so much and I’m just about to be on break so maybe i’ll be back to posting writing regularly but with school its so hard and I think I’ve been working on this for months so yeah <3 lol PLS PLS PLS leave me feedback and reblogs and that stuff bc otherwise my writing just feels...empty and you have no idea the smile i get when even just the tags say like “god this was everything” it can be anything honestly but it keeps my passion up. Thank you again and hope you enjoy.

Word Count: ~10k | Warnings: swearing probably? no smut (yet), rich and famous harry - mentions of Taylor Swif 

-

She considered herself an average young woman in her mid twenties. She liked screaming Taylor Swift and Megan Thee Stallion songs alone in her car and thrifting on weekends. She hated cable because of commercials and when doordash didn’t deliver all of her order. She had asthma when she worked out or the air quality was bad. She had dumb celebrity crushes that her friends and her still laughed over with every new instagram post. She had hopes and dreams she had yet to achieve and she had past trauma that many would never know about, especially at first glance.

Sure, she was successful. She would admit that. How else would she be able to afford even the modest little house she had found in Hampstead? She had studied international business in college and hopped on a plane to London the first chance she got. After a few years of a more than decent paycheck and an advantageous stimulus check from her kind parents, she was able to move out of her starter flat into the suburbs. The definitive push for the move was two-fold. Her parents wanted her to take her dog and her apartment complex was strict on no pets. Then her promotion at work - which included a pay raise - made it hard to wave off taking full ownership of her childhood ten-pound best friend.

So with life happening as it usually does, Y/N first found herself scouring Zillow, then touring homes in the area, and finally standing outside a three bedroom, two bath, two-story cream house in Hampstead. Her house.

The little moving truck she had rented sat beside her as she stared at her future. The realtor had told her they would be there in ten minutes. For the next ten minutes all Y/N had to do was keep herself from combusting, or worse, sobbing.

She felt overwhelmed already. Renting a flat in London was one way to describe herself as independent. Owning a home in Hampstead seemed like a whole new level of adulthood she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for.

After taking a few deep breaths to ground herself, Y/N walked up to the gate that kept her front yard narrowly separated from the sidewalk. She lifted one hand from beneath the box she clutched tightly to her chest to push past the iron-rod gateway. The garden was cute, a little bland, and she thought to herself that maybe she’d develop some gardening skills now that she had her own front yard. The thought made her smile a little, refraining from laughing aloud while on her lonesome, since she had never taken interest in gardening before. But this house. This house. It was a new beginning. It was a fucking unwritten journal. Blank film. Unknown territory. She could be anyone in this house.

She gently placed the cardboard box on the first step up to the front door. There was no porch, but she couldn’t complain. It was gorgeous and she was lucky to get it at the price she did. The house was cream with dark blue accents and a grey shingled roof. Lots of windows. It was classic and it was hers.

After the realtor came with her keys and made sure everything seemed alright, Y/N’s couple of friends, Amélie and Daniel, arrived with their cars filled with items she had needed picking up from various stores. They helped her move her stuff into the house. Thankfully it was already half furnished, meaning she didn’t have to go out and buy beds or couches or any of those big items that are both expensive and a hassle to deal with.

By the time the evening had rolled around, everything was in the house and it actually seemed semi put together. Y/N looked around, sweat apparent on her face and hands on her hips, proud of what she had accomplished. The nerves from earlier had been drowned by pride.

-

The next day, she woke up from her first night in the house. It felt like a dream even though she was sure she was awake.  

She had to navigate her way to the airport today to pick up her dog from his long flight and then mainly settle into the house. Her house sat on Sherwood Avenue, one of the many streets in Hampstead. It’s neighboring houses were much larger. The ones directly next to and across from her weren’t drastically bigger but what she had yet to learn was that next to the house across from her there were two houses that had been joined together by their slightly eccentric owner. A man who would be the match that ignited the flame that was the rest of her life.

This unknown fact quickly became known after Y/N’s first few weeks in her new neighbourhood. The eccentric - more so absurdly rich - neighbor who conjoined the houses was Harry Styles.

The first time they crossed paths she wasn’t even aware of it. It was the day she moved in. He had been out for his usual morning run and was rounding the corner when she had pulled up in her moving van. Once inside his home, he snoopily watched on as his neighbour began to move in. He hadn’t taken note of much about her, just that she was new and that she had a nice pair of jeans on that day.

The second time, Y/N was convinced she needed to get her eyes checked because there was no way that she had just seen Harry Styles key himself into the house across the way from her. There was no way that she had moved into the same area as him, let alone the same street. It seemed far more plausible that she needed a psych evaluation or a strong glasses prescription.

But the third instance of them crossing paths, she was proven wrong. She was on her way back from the neighbourhood park when she saw a guy jogging towards her. With a yellow beanie and a black Columbia sweatshirt paired with running shorts and shoes, he was hard to ignore running straight towards her. The iconic curls, strong jawline, and soft green eyes were dead giveaways this time. After making brief eye contact as their paths literally crossed, she felt herself make a little face of odd interest. Her head quirked and her eyes narrowed, lips pursed with slight confusion. That was definitely him.

After that, she found herself seeing Harry around the neighbourhood a relatively good amount. She’d see him at the park, at the coffee shop, on their street, and more. They didn’t speak. She really didn’t think he would want to be bothered by his neighbours and she certainly wasn’t willing to test the theory. They sometimes gave a small smile of acknowledgement but nothing really friendly. Just ‘you exist and I know that’.

-

Fridays are Y/N’s favorite day. It’s the beginning of the weekend, she never has to go into work and it’s simply a nice day. People are happier, they smile brighter and it just seems like the world is a little better than usual.

Friday was especially amazing today because her childhood best friend, Cate, was arriving at London Heathrow in the evening. Y/N had begged Cate to fly out to see the new house in person and Cate had finally found the time to run away to England for a week.

She shut her front door carefully behind her and placed her headphones in her ears. Rori, that little terrier, who had made a similar flight to see Y/N’s place not too long ago, scampered out the door with her and jumped happily at her legs as she fiddled with her phone. Her coat ruffles around her disturbed from the morning air. It’s blanket-like fabric that consisted of a deep blue backdrop with felt giraffes sewn on it, kept her warm while she walked. With her mind racing with weekend plans and ideas for her and Cate to do both in Hampstead and the city, she crossed the street like usual and began to walk with her dog to the coffee shop for her morning tea.

Unlike usual, she fumbled just as she was putting her phone in her pocket and bumped into something large and definitely not sedentary.

“I’m so sorry!” She blushed and moved backwards from the man who had just been shutting his own front gate to head somewhere.

“S’alright. No harm, no foul.” He looks down at her and her dog. Rori seems excited by the stranger and sniffs him eagerly. A single paw prodding at the man’s long leg.

She grimaces, hearing the voice and stepping back allows her to fully recognize who she had just bumped into. Her neighbour. The runner. Harry Styles.

“Sorry.” She mutters again as Rori continues to prod at Harry’s leg.

She tries to coax Rori away, but Harry simply smiles and leans down to the small dog.

“Hi there buddy,” he coos and rubs the top of the fluffy dogs head, in between his pointy ears, “What’s your name?”

“Rori.” She states easily, Harry’s eyes flickering to her smoothly. Rori makes a smile babbling noise that sounds a bit like a tiny roar - hence the name - and Harry chuckles to himself.

“He’s really adorable,” he finally says and straightens up from his admiring of the dog.

The grimace becomes more of a smile on her face and she mumbles a “Thank You”.

As her neighbour - who hasn’t introduced himself (which wasn’t necessary, but still) or bothered to ask for her introduction - seems to be about to say something new when his phone begins to vibrate obnoxiously. He twitches, his large hands immediately going to his pockets for the important device. He checks the message and looks back at her face.

“Sorry, I have to run...um,” he’s not sure what to say. He really does have to go, but he doesn’t even know his neighbour’s name. He’ll have to make sure to get it at some point in the near future. Especially now that he’s acquainted with her dog.

“No worries,” she smiles completely this time, relieved for the whole interaction to be over. She felt like she was going to explode with each passing moment. In the presence of a legendary musician, c’mon, who wouldn’t be freaking out. All she could think about was how Harry Styles now knew her dog’s name. What the fuck!

-

Upon arriving at the airport, she waited patiently for Cate to walk out of the customs area.

When she did, the two young women began jumping up and down excitedly, Y/N squealing only slightly. They hugged and began chattering intensely, catching up on lost time that generally occurs when you live an ocean apart.  

Finally, one comment rings through the constant back and forth and Cate stops.

“Wait, what did you just say,” she questions as they begin walking to catch an uber back to Hampstead.

“I think my house might be haunted?” Y/N’s voice raising because she’s unsure if that’s what Cate was talking about.

“No, no, the thing after that. I think I must’ve misheard you.”

“Harry Styles is my neighbour?” Y/N’s brows raise as she looks over at her best friend, curious to know what she will say.

“Yes! Explain. Now!”

“It’s not really a big deal. It’s a nice neighbourhood, it makes sense that celebrities of his caliber want to live there.”

“That is not explaining. You have to introduce us!”

As they climb into their uber and settle in for the short ride back to Hampstead, Y/N sighs and tells Cate everything she knows.

“We’ve only just spoken today and I’ve been here for a couple weeks. He lives across the street and down one, I guess. I just see him around, it’s not like he knows who I am. He didn’t even get my name today, just Rori’s.” She laughs lightly, still finding it funny that Harry knows her dog’s name.

Cate nods, leaning in slightly to her best friend, hardly able to contain her awestruckness from the story and baffledness at Y/N’s calmness. “So, like, when do I get to meet him?”

“Girl, I don’t fucking know. Never, if you’re going to act wild. I don’t want the neighbourhood to think I’m not chill.”

“Sometimes…” Cate starts and leans away from Y/N jokingly, “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They both smile, bumping elbows silently. The song on the radio fading in louder as their words die out.

-

The next day, Y/N took Cate to the local park. It was expansive and connected to the football fields that local teams would play at. The park section was a luscious green that was maintained with copious amounts of watering by the township.

She and Cate settled on a patch of grass near a slender tree that would offer some shade if the sun’s rays became too harsh. The quilt they sat on was something her grandmother had made her when she was maybe 8 years old, meaning it was torn in places and completely worn in a different shade of pink than it had been initially.

They set up their picnic and played music, enjoying the sunny day. Something rare and fleeting as the fall began to creep up on Hampstead.

They eat and catch up on life for about an hour. Basking in the sunlight, Y/N had laid on her back and was staring up at the clouds passing along the sky. Cate was carefully watching their surroundings, simply taking in her friend’s new home, but possibly for another reason too.

“Hey, isn’t that…” Cate trails off, trying to subtly nod in the direction of an approaching figure.

Y/N sits up, her hands holding her up from behind her. Her hair fails in front of her shoulders slightly and it’s a little disheveled from being mused in the grass. She looks discreetly in the direction of Cate’s nodding and then looks at her friend and rolls her eyes.

“Yes, but don’t say anything, he might not even notice me and I’m certainly not calling out to him.”

‘Illicit Affairs’ by Taylor Swift is playing off her speaker and as she’s about to change it, Cate turns it up slightly. They share a glare with one another before trying to act casual again, even though both of their eyes kept flickering to the man who seemed to be continuing closer and closer to their set up.

It became clear that Harry was approaching them after all and Y/N tried to carry on an unbothered conversation with Cate, which was hard with the constant nudging of Cate’s foot on her shin.

He stops a mere foot away from their blanket, beaming at the two young women lounging on the ground. He makes an attempt at a casual wave, his large hand splaying his fingers quickly, before opening his mouth to speak.

Cate beats him to the punch. “Hello there!”

“Erm, hi!” He says nicely to her and then looks at Y/N.

“No Rori today?” He inquires.

“No,” she smiles, slightly blushing at the fact that he remembered her and her dog. “He’s napping.”

“Ah, I see,” He pauses, “I feel like I need to apologize.” He continues.

“For what?” She questions and Cate watches on anxiously, mesmerized by Harry and dying to see what happens next.

“I ran off before I could even ask for your name or introduce myself. It was terribly rude.”

“Oh,” she can’t stop smiling, “It’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sure you’re busy. Besides I had to get my day started, otherwise I would’ve been late picking her up.” She points to Cate who smiles sheepishly, still internally screaming over the fact that her friend is able to talk so easily to a celebrity.

Harry nods and looks at Cate again, “Just visiting I take it then?”

She nods quickly, words escaping her. Y/N chuckles under her breath and swoops in to save her friend any embarrassment. “Cate’s my best friend and she’s been kind enough to take time out of her extremely busy life to come look at my new house.”

He hums, still standing a respectful distance from their set-up. “Nice to meet you, Cate,” he says very kindly. Then he laughs, but in a way that is like he’s beside himself. The two women both quirk their heads at him. Y/N squints her eyes slightly, trying to understand the guy she is talking to and connecting him with the man that is all over the news all of the time for his musical genius.

“Now I know your dog and best friend’s names but still not yours. At this point, I’m begging you to tell me.”

They all laugh and Y/N feels nervous for the first time since Harry had walked up.

“You first,” she smiles slyly.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but then go back to normal. Harry was very smart, she likely knew his name, but one, she was trying to be funny and two, she was also trying to be courteous. He preferred to introduce himself rather than just be told who he is, even if people already knew. It allowed him to maintain some normalcy.

“‘M Harry,” He says with a smile.

“Alright.” She says and then remains quiet.

Harry’s lips quirk up in a faint smile, amused at her expression.

“I thought it was a ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ type of situation or was I mistaken?” He finally asks when she remains silent still.

The two young women laugh and Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, both feeling flustered and completely in control at the same time.

“You weren’t mistaken, I was just thinking.” Then she pauses again and Cate thinks Harry is about to combust and Harry thinks he’s going to as well with all the anticipation that has been built up over his neighbor’s name, even though he was pretty sure he’d heard it in passing at one point or another but had forgotten quickly afterwards.

“It’s Y/N.”

Harry releases a facetious sigh of relief, “Oh thank god! Finally!” His words quickly turn into an infectious laugh that is paired with a shining smile and she feels like she’s swooning right then and there. The control has gone out the window and she’s taken with her neighbor. He’s wonderful in that moment and she forgets about Cate or the park or anything. It’s just Harry and how it seems like he’s smiling just for her.

“Now that I’ve gotten your name,” he smiles pointedly at her after his laughter has faded away. The smile doesn’t leave his face though, his eyes still crinkled, his dimples still showing.

She nods, encouraging him to continue. Cate feels like she’s watching a movie unfold in front of her and she wishes she could record the entire interaction.

“I can finally ask you, Y/N, where did you get that fabulous coat I saw you wearing yesterday?”

She twitches further upright, eyes bringing themselves directly inline with Harry’s gaze. “Oh,” she inhales, “The giraffe one, yeah?”

He nods.

“I got it from a Goodwill years ago. It’s some vintage company that used to only make sleepwear. I looked up the tag one time and it doesn’t exist anymore. Super cool, though. Wish I could buy more.”

“Yeah,” Harry says eagerly, even taking a step towards the women, “It was so intriguing. Maybe, if you didn’t mind of course -” he falters, losing his courage for a moment, “you could bring it over and my stylist could check it out. I would love something similar and I’m sure he could figure it out.”

She shrugs. It wasn’t crazy, especially not for Harry - she assumed. She was certain he often found things he liked but there was only one of them so he would just order his own. She couldn’t help the pride that was swelling inside her though it that moment. Harry Styles liking her jacket so much he asked where it was from and then wanting his stylist to look at it. She’d jump for joy when she was in the safety of her private home later tonight with Cate.

“One condition,” she says and Harry’s brows quirk amusedly at her.

“You are a very tit for tat person,” he muses.

“Fair’s fair,” she shrugs again and then looks around her quickly, “It’s simple so don’t get too worked up over it, buddy.”

He laughs slightly again and tries to figure out what she’s looking for. When she extends a scratched up, sticker-covered point and shoot film camera he smiles.

“Can you take a picture of Cate and I? It’s always just the two of us so we never have anyone to take pictures of us together.”

Harry grins at this and her sincere face. Cate is a little taken aback, because while it’s technically true, it’s not entirely factual. They have plenty of film pictures of them - maybe not recently though. And she wasn’t going to question Y/N right now. It seemed like she knew what she was doing.

Harry takes the camera and begins to look through the viewfinder. The women scoot closer together and Cate wraps her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. She leans in to press her cheek against her best friend. They smile up at the camera and Harry crouches slightly to get a better angle.

“Alright,” he mumbles, “Ready?...Cheese!”

Their smiles stay hung on their face as they listen for the click and when the faint sound befalls their ears, Cate laughs and Y/N pulls away. She reaches forward for the camera, her hand easily brushing Harry’s large one.

Their smiles meet each other and Cate can’t help but notice how they grow as the two of them look at one another.

“Thank you,” Y/N says sweetly and pulls back to retake her seat on the blanket.

Harry straightens up, his grin falling back into that signature smirk. “No problem.”

“So-” He begins but she cuts him off.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He clears his throat, feeling thrown off. “Yeah, sure. I guess next time I see you we can talk about when a good time would be for your jacket to come over?”

His voice raises at the end of his question a little more than usual, he’s trying to get her to bite, but she doesn’t seem like someone who is easily thrown off. He is trying to read her and she’s been completely cool the entire time. It’s intriguing. Even more so than the jacket, even though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, it wasn’t really his focus when he walked across the park to her and Cate.

“Yep! It was nice finally meeting you Harry.”

He feels the cue to walk off and says his farewells. As he walks off, back on course to his intended destination, his head is filled with questions. Most important of them being when he would see her again.

Cate and Y/N watch him walk towards the football fields. They see him meet with a group of men and it seems like they’re there to practice or play a game. Y/N couldn’t be sure.

“He likes you!” Cate finally bursts out.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Stop trying to make me take the piss. That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“It’s not! He likes you and you obviously like him, I mean, but we been knew.”

“Having a crush on the famous Harry Styles when you’re 17 is different than me liking my neighbour Harry.”

“But you like him don’t you? He’s even better than he was when he was 19. Now he’s all grown up and established and more your style anyway.”

“Shut up! He could hear you.”

“He really couldn't, he's yards away, you’re just paranoid.” Cate continues to tease and ridicule her best friend over Harry and Y/N is just about ready to up and leave, but she also can’t help but laugh it off.

“I’m literally gonna kick you out if you keep talking,” Y/N says between laughs and the women feel like they’re back in high school losing their minds over the stupidest joke ever.

“Okay, fine. But all I have to say is I will hold this over you when you end up together.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever. Just be prepared to wait forever because I can promise you Harry Styles and I are never ending up together.”

--

Two Weeks Later

Y/N walked to her door after hearing the doorbell ring and opened it to find her neighbour standing with his arm raised ready to knock.

“Hey, Harry,” She greeted easily, but not entirely sure why he was here.

They hadn’t really seen each other since their official meeting in the park. It hadn’t bothered her and it hadn’t really bothered Harry either. It seemed like they both had extremely busy lives that they didn’t plan on throwing out the window because they had said they would meet up at some point. She liked that.

Harry had come over because he finally had a break in his schedule and was hoping to talk about the jacket and anything else really. He was interested in getting to know her and he didn’t care to hide it.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something?” He asked, leaning himself against her door frame now.

Her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen a little bit, not completely sure she heard him correctly.

“Right now?!” She asked incredulously.

She was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt and black bike shorts that peaked out from underneath the sweatshirt hem. One of her socks was shoved around her ankle while the other was pulled up flat to touch the base of her calf. She didn’t think she was looking the most presentable at the moment. She had been basking in her day off by simply laying on the couch watching hours of Netflix.

He nods, his smile growing on his face. Her flustered expression only made him happier. She was always so nonchalant with him, he wanted to see her a little more antsy.

“Unless you’re busy,” he adds seriously, not wanting to bother her, just wanting to spend time with her.

“No, no. I’m not...I’m not busy. I just wasn’t expecting any plans where I would be required to go out in public. Let me just...um, come inside and then give me five minutes.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles again as he steps into her home.

Her smile is sheepish and much less genuine then the one Harry holds on his face as he takes in her abode. She tells him to make himself comfortable and then runs to her room to try and possibly fix her state in under five minutes.

She tears around her room, heaving off the frumpy sweatshirt and grabbing a long sleeve striped v-neck top she had hanging out half out of her hamper, a sign known to her that while it was clean enough to wear, if she happened to do laundry she should wash it. Slipping it over her head, she walks to her dresser and leans over to open the bottom drawer and unfolds a pair of dark wash oversized jeans. There’s no holes in them and she throws them on the bed so that she can slip out of her current pants. Next, onto the socks, she swaps out the current ones for a fresh black pair and finds her tortoise print boots to flick on. As she just about runs into her en suite bathroom, she zips the two boots up between steps. A quick comb through her hair, deodorant, two spritz of perfume, her eyelash curler and mascara and she’s running back to where Harry is waiting in her living room.

He blinks surprisedly at her promptness, usually giving people more time then what they say they need. She had indeed gotten ready in five minutes. He thought she looked breathtaking. And she felt like she was at a lack for breath in any case.

“It’s a bit cold out,” he glances to the window.

“Isn’t it always?” She smiles, finally catching her breath.

He chuckles and then nods, a smile appearing on his face as he feels a warmth in his chest at her wit.

“Ready?” He checks in.

She nods, grabbing a coat she kept hung by the door.

“Just the coffee shop down the way?” She inquires as they exit the house and she locks the door behind her.

Harry hums, waiting down a step for her to turn around and walk beside him. It was so strange to her, this felt all too normal with him. Like he was just a friend who had come to pick her up for coffee, her neighbor, nothing more.

“Did you hear the new season of the Crown is coming out soon?” Harry asks as they walk shoulder to shoulder (technically since her shoulder wasn’t in line with his).

“Really?” She looks at him, “I love that show!”

“Me too,” He looks at her and smiles happily.

“That’s amazing,” she breathes mostly to herself, half about the show and half about how Harry watches television and that he watches one of her favorite shows.

There’s silence. The brisk air pricking their cheeks as they walk down their street. Their puffs of breath create a slight mist of white ahead of them and then quickly dissipates.

Her eyes flit up to Harry’s chiseled jaw and face and she watches him as his eyes carefully and meaningfully take in his surroundings. Was it her turn to take a stab at conversation? It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but she just wasn’t sure what was going on.

“You play football right?” She says finally as they turn onto the next street that would bring them closer to the café they both frequented.

She remembered seeing him there on several occasions. The tips he left were always overly generous, which she assumed you could do when you were exorbitantly rich. He always smiled when he ordered and knew the baristas by name. His order rarely differed and she hated to admit but she knew his two regulars. His actual “regular” was a 12 ounce black coffee, dark roast, no cream and no sugar. The other, his “I’ll actually have”, was a 16 ounce iced green tea, no cream and no sugar.

She couldn’t help that she was observant and that when ‘H’ was called at the bar she looked at what was pushed out, patiently waiting for him to come snatch it up with a smile and nod to the workers before he left. Sometimes he’d even smile at her over the lid of his drink as he exited the establishment. It was warm and inviting and she felt good about the twinkle in his eye that never seemed to waver no matter the day.

Now they were going there together and she’d have to pretend like she’d never noticed what he got as a drink.

He responds to her question with another glance at her and a simple “yes”. His hands shove into his pockets and one side of his pink lips quirk up. He continues, “I’m on a local team with some mates. We’re in a little competition with our league. The final match is coming up this Sunday actually...You should come.”

He says it so casually it almost doesn’t catch her off guard. Harry inviting her to his football game, maybe this was going to be her life now. Going to her neighbours football match. Going to Harry Styles’ football match.

“Sunday…” She sounds out, choosing to look out into the distance instead of at him. “What time?”

“Eight.”

“P.M. right?” She responds quickly, worried since she never wakes up that early and rarely before 10 a.m. on the weekends for that matter.

“Of course,” he chuckles.

They’ve come upon the café and he’s quick to grab the handle to open the door and let her go before him. She can’t stop the blush and smile that spread on her face as she ducks her head into the warm and cozy shop. Men had opened doors for her before and she really thought of herself as a strong woman who didn’t need a man for anything, but something about Harry’s action felt especially, and specifically, chivalrous. Why, she had no idea.

Neither of them stop to look at the menu. They were regulars and they both knew that about each other as well. He gestures for her to go first and she mutters her thanks before turning to the patiently waiting barista. She orders and is about to hand over her card when Harry suavely steps in and says, “Don’t worry about it. I invited you with me, I’ll pay.”

It was both completely unexpected and expected at the same time. Knowing she’d never win this fight, she thanked him again, glanced at the man taking her order and then stepped aside. Harry orders his own drink and then pays for both. Today he leaves double the amount he usually leaves for tip, she assumes since it’s two drinks he was paying for.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” She says quietly to him once they’re in a corner of the café waiting for their drinks.

He stands slightly slumped against the wall, closer to her height right now. He only shrugs, his good natured smile not once leaving his face since he entered this place.

“I wanted to,” he said simply right as the drinks were ready since it wasn’t particularly busy on this random Friday afternoon.

They glance outside and see that it’s begun to drizzle while they’ve been inside. She sighs, having hoped to walk around a little after being inside all day.

Instead, they sit at the corner table in the café, across from each other. She moves on from the paying thing, knowing it was simply how this guy probably operated most of his life.

He got a black coffee today, the cold and rain likely contributing to that choice.

As one pop song fades out, slightly under the sound of the coffee machines, she’s about to tell Harry she’s pretty sure she can make his final football match when ‘Cardigan’ fades in. It’s the second time a Taylor Swift song has been playing while she’s been in the presence of Harry and they were conversing. She tries to ignore one of her favorite songs at the moment. Harry doesn’t seem to pay much mind to it. His foot is tapping against his other, but it’s been tapping like that since they sat down.

“I think I could probably make it to your game,” she says finally after a pause and a sip of her own drink.

Harry grins at the response and launches into how great it will be if they win and how happy everyone will be. She smiles along and doesn’t notice the slight head swaying to the song that she’s begun.

“Fan of Taylor?” Harry inquires and Y/N’s face drops, eyes widening cartoonishly.

She stutters, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth before she can actually say something. How does she respond about liking Taylor Swift to a man who counts her as an ex. She’s at a loss.

“Yeah, uh,” she finally starts.

Harry watches her curiously, obviously noticing her discomfort as his question.

“I used to not really consider myself a fan. I don’t really follow her just because I don’t really follow...um...musicians,” she chokes out the last word realizing Harry fits that category. “But, after folklore, I don’t know, this album really spoke to me. I also really like Lover and...uh” she pauses again, sticking on 1989, an album she has argued with her friends about how it’s basically a tell all of the man before her and Taylor’s relationship.

He nods, hoping she’ll continue. He wanted to get to know her and he kind of liked seeing her squirm. “1989?” He finally supplies.

Her blush isn’t able to be covered this time. If her hair didn’t fall in front of her ears she was sure they’d be flushed with blood.

Then she draws out of her own self stress and looks at the smooth man before her and grows calm. He was amazing at winding her up and she didn’t want to seem like some young, impressionable fangirl to him. So, she squared her shoulders and straightened up in her chair.

“Yes, it was pop perfection as one of my college friends liked to say. I’d always listen to it at the gym.” Then she pauses, taking a measured breath, gaining her confidence back. Her eyes meet his, “Is there any songs off it that you particularly enjoy, Mr. Styles.”

He chuckles, mostly because of her emphasis on ‘Style’.

“Shake it off?” He asks.

“Oh fuck off!” She laughs and he joins in with her.

When they catch their breaths from laughing, they simultaneously take sips of their drinks and settle their eyes back on one another. Exes and songs written about oneself weren’t exactly the topics Harry had in mind for the coffee outing he had asked Y/N out on, but talks of exes had never been this funny with anyone else. He was grateful for her playfulness, her demeanor.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks quietly and seriously.

“I think we’re past that question, love,” he responds.

“Yeah, I guess,” she pauses and just about whispers, “Pretty much all of them are about you right?”

He shrugs again, his felt coat rustling around his seat. “We never really talked about every single song.”

She leans forward at the ‘we’ Harry is using about himself and Taylor Swift.

“But when I listen to the songs, I hear us in just about every one but a few.”

“Wow,” she breathes and sips her drink. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lived through something that intense and then someone commemorated in a masterpiece.”

“Do you have a favorite on that album?” He asks, moving on from her revelation.

“I love ‘I know places’, it has a cool sound. But I also really love ‘Wonderland’. They both have kind of dark sounds, yet it still is like what you have is so special that the bad bits are worth it. I don’t know, it just seems like a tv show. I don’t think my life could ever be that crazy or dramatic.” She doesn’t notice her use of ‘you’ because she had meant it as a form of analyzing the song theoretically as she had done hundreds of times with her friends,  but this time the ‘you’ is literally the ‘you’ the song is talking about.

“Love can turn anyone’s life chaotic.” Harry muses.

The green eye’s that flashed at Taylor throughout that album look at Y/N from across the table and she feels a flip in her stomach at his tone.

Maybe he notices her mild discomfort, maybe that’s just who he is. But after a beat, Harry’s onto the next topic on his mind. He launches into how he’s just returned from Scotland for a shoot for something so undercover he can’t even divulge to her, much to his dismay. She’s taken aback since she didn’t consider her someone Harry would divulge any of his private matters to, but it seemed like he already considered her a confidant. Just not for that. He wants it to be a surprise.

She smiles and listens attentively. She wonders as he goes on about his interesting yet absurdly lavish life whether he even knows what regular life is like anymore. Or if he’d even enjoy it if he experienced it.

Sure, coffee and football were plenty part of regular life . But the football league was something novel to Harry. He had just gotten to do it and he was thrilled by its normalcy.

She regarded him carefully, unsure what the next step was in this budding friendship. Was it dangerous to get involved with someone’s life which seemed to be filled with whirlwind rigor and constant change.

She liked her chaos, don’t get her wrong. She felt like she often was the odd one out in life. Always thinking differently than the ones around her. She often was the one to suggest spontaneous late night trips around town or exploration of an abandoned building known for spooky stories. She liked inviting friends over for themed parties for no specific occasions and she liked taking film pictures of friends like they were models even though it was only for her and her memories. She thought of herself as silly and fun, but what Harry described as his chaotic fun actually was regimented tight schedules of constant travel and work. Interesting experiences came out of that constant travel and work, but didn’t seem like something she necessarily wanted to get herself wrapped up in.

After coffee, they leave the café and it’s pouring now. Instead of going home, Harry insists on walking her to her place. She relents, realizing, once again, that Harry wasn’t someone who took ‘no’ for an answer. She then invites him in because it’s the polite thing to do. And Harry being Harry accepts.

“Want a dry sweatshirt while you wait?” She asks as she slips off her wet shoes and jacket in the entryway. Harry follows suit, his knit sweater being pelted with rain for the last eight minutes left him feeling cold and shivery.

He nods as he toes off his shoes and ventures back to the living room she had him wait in a few hours ago.

“Here,” She says as she tosses a grey sweatshirt in his direction. She believes it's her one from earlier, an innocuous pullover with ‘London’ in collegiate lettering on the front. He catches it as she rounds the corner to turn up the heater.

Her mistake was being so careless to not look at the sweatshirt before handing it over to her neighbor. Anyone else, maybe they wouldn’t have questioned it. But Harry, how could he not.

“What’s this?”

“A sweatshirt,” she doesn’t spare him a glance on the coach as she fiddles with the thermostat.

“It’s one of my sweatshirts,” Harry says and she can hear the smile on his face.

“That’s impossible, I’ve never borrowed-” Her brows had raised at what he said but now her words fall short.

He didn’t mean one of his personal sweatshirts that she possibly borrowed if they were better friends. No. He meant his merchandise.

“It was a gift,” she sighs as she turns to face him. He’s now wearing the sweatshirt proudly and grinning up at her smugly.

She rolls her eyes when he gives her a knowing smile.

“I didn’t know that it was the one I was handing you. Honest!”

“I thought you didn’t “keep up” with musicians,” Harry says playfully, his fingers making quotes appropriately.

“I don’t.” Her tone is serious as she plops on the couch beside Harry.

“I enjoy your music from time to time. Is that a crime?!” She finally exclaims when she can’t handle Harry’s knowing smirk.

“No it’s not, you could have just told me you were a fan!” She tries to stop him and protest that she wouldn’t consider herself a fan, but he continues, “I still would have wanted to have been friends.You’re one of the liveliest neighbors I’ve got. Everyone else on the street is rather dull.”

She chuckles, remembering finding out quickly that the street wasn’t a lively bunch.  

“I just wouldn’t say I’m a fan,” she presses and sits across from him.

He continues smiling like he knows the truth.

“I don’t think you’ve met an average person in awhile, Harry.” She finally says after they sat in silence for a few minutes because they were both too stubborn to be the first to talk.

“I would hardly call you average if that’s what you’re implying, Y/N.” He nods her way and he shifts on her plush couch, his legs adjusting themselves on their own accord. “And I know plenty of average people,” he adds huffily.

“I normally wouldn’t either, but compared to who you seem to surround yourself, I very much am. And that’s not meant to be a jab at anyone involved.”

His right hand sneaks up to his head to scratch at the base of a particularly perfect curl. His eyes squint a bit as his mind processes her claim.

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’m just curious to see if you’d actually like me in your life. It seems like you want to be friends with me and that’s great, but realistically I don’t know how much I would fit into it.”

Harry scoffs, “That’s literally bullshit, just relax. I’m so chill you won’t even know what to do with me.”

Now it’s her turn to scoff. “Chill?!” She asks incredulously. Harry nods with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before.

“When’s the next time you’re flying off to another country for work?”

Harry pauses, “Um...the day after the final match. I’m beginning to film a movie, so I’ll be there for a month.”

“Busy bee,” she muses and they both chuckle.

There’s something about the somber look Harry is giving her. His eyes twinkled in the coffee shop and with playful winks she was excited to be in his presence. But after she mentions when his next trip is, he seems saddened. There’s skepticism behind his eyes and maybe he doesn’t like being challenged about who he is from other people, especially those who are new in his life.

But that’s who Y/N is, she’s straightforward and doesn’t lie to someone. If Harry was now her friend, she was going to tell it like it is to him. That personality trait she worried wouldn’t make her long for his world.

“So the cardigan? Do you have it here?” Harry changes the subject, clearly not wanting to actually consider a realistic friendship together instead just charging ahead with no hesitation. Whatever happened they would deal with it as it came. Maybe she should just go with the flow, let herself be swept up into his madness. Maybe it would be easier than fighting it.

“No.”

“Oh?”

“I do, I was joking. Where else would it be?” Her tone is light, trying to get back the shine she had seen Harry exhibit before it had vanished.

Maybe that was Harry’s effect on people. He was vibrant and like an Elton John song. You never wanted that shine to go away, never wanted the song to end. Never wanted him to stop shining his light on you. She felt this happening in just a few hours with him. When he was happy so was she and when he wasn’t entirely shining she wanted to do whatever she could to get it back.

A smile curls on his face and his green eyes narrow slightly. He’s trying to figure her out, know what she’s all about.

“Do you want to go and grab it?” His voice sweetening, almost like a tease. Maybe he means to bite his lip, maybe he doesn’t, but the effect on her is nonetheless earthshaking.

She pops up and smiles back, happy to have made him happy. As she walks out of the room to go get the cardigan that had started this all, her head tilts and she furrows her brow wondering why she felt such a sense of pride just for making him happy.

Would this man cause her to finally put someone else’s wishes ahead of hers?

-

“Are you on your way?”

She listens to Harry’s slightly worried voice crackle over the speaker of her phone as she shuts her door with the hand not holding her phone to her ear. His voice is raspy and muffled. She assumes it’s from the cold air of London at night and the scarf he is likely got wrapped around his neck.

“Yes! Jeez, I’m on my way. Walking over right now.”

It’s the final match for Harry’s football team and if they win the game then they get a trophy and it’s all Harry has been talking about since they got coffee and she handed over her cardigan.

Harry huffed an “alright” on the other side of the line and she called a “see you soon” before hanging up.

He was both eager for Y/N to come and possibly meet some of his teammates and a few of his close friends who he had invited and for her to arrive so that she wasn’t walking out late at night alone. He hadn’t known her for long, but he felt a certain protectiveness over her. She was relatively alone here, only two friends at work that she had mentioned and everyone else lived far away. She said she didn’t mind it, but Harry had a hard time understanding it since he surrounded himself with his friends as much as he could and was constantly either traveling or having them travel to see him.

He had even contemplated inviting her to come to Los Angeles with him for a month, but knew she would remind him of her ever important job that she couldn’t just randomly take a month off.

He’d have to ask her what exactly she did because every time he tried to remember, it always slipped his mind.

When her figure came into sight below the fluorescent lights, he breathed a sigh of relief. A grin spread on his face as she beamed at him and waved a bit. He didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how special she was. Every time he saw her he felt himself straighten up and feel a bubbling in his chest. Her smile was infectious and the way her eyes glittered when she looked away quickly and then returned eye contact made him want to stay in her presence forever.

“You made it!” Harry said and scooped her up in his arms, not realizing just how happy he was to see her, swinging her around in a half circle.

She laughs in surprise, but appreciates the warmth Harry’s hug offers her. She’s not quite sure they had ever touched each other before this moment beside shoulder brushes and hand touches. Nothing so...purposeful.

“I made it,” she confirms and pats him on his broad shoulders.

Questions in her mind raced as she questioned whether it was normal for friendships to happen like this. She knew in college friendships could happen this quickly. And that’s when it dawned on her, she really hadn’t made a new friend since college and that was why everything with Harry was so odd to her. She had forgotten what new friendship was. She needed to stop questioning everything and just live in the moment with a person she really liked being with.

Harry’s hands move from her waist and one stays to lead her forward so he can introduce her to some of his mates, as he had promised.

She felt at home in that moment. His hand on the small of her back, his heat radiating off of him and her hair swept behind her ears and her cheek pressed to his shoulder staring up at him sweetly.

She meets Charlotte, a member of Harry’s band who lives in London, her boyfriend, Mitch (who had just happened to find himself in Hampstead this weekend), Ben, and a few more people she couldn’t remember all the names of.

Harry’s team wins the game and Y/N’s not sure if she’s ever seen someone so happy to win an adult league football match. There wasn’t any official trophy except the one Harry had made himself and said he would even give to the other team if they won. It was engraved with the words “The World’s Greatest Football Team of Stars Ever. October 22, 2020”. It doesn’t even make sense but she’d been holding it for the entire night as he played.

He goes down the line of his friends who have been watching and gives them all jubilant kisses on the lips. When he reaches Y/N she holds out the trophy and he grins and gives her a kiss on the cheek. His lips are surprisingly soft and his scratchy stubble tickles her and she swiftly pulls back, a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks nonetheless.

Charlotte and Mitch share a look between the two of them and Ben’s eyes narrow slightly at the interaction. His eyes narrow just as they had when Harry had strutted over to the group with Y/N before the game. He had happily named everyone and she had shaken all of their hands with a warm smile on her lips. Ben had regarded her warily and she had shaken it off as the chill of the night air. But there it was again, not quite trusting of the neighbour girl Harry had just randomly befriended a few days ago.

The team and the friends of the team decide they deserve to celebrate this win, mostly at the request of Harry.

Y/N tries to find a time to leave, to return to her place so she can prepare for her day at work tomorrow. But no excuses will be heard from Harry and she has a hard time saying no to his sparkling eyes and gorgeous grin that she’s growing far too accustomed to.

She’s ushered down to the closest pub with the rest of them and finds herself chatting with Charlotte’s boyfriend. He’s the most...normal. She’s not sure how to explain it, but he doesn’t seem to be regarding her as different, unlike every other one of Harry’s friends. They were all perfectly nice and cordial with her, but she just felt like she wasn’t a part of their group, their world and she didn’t know how to explain it.

Charlotte and Mitch are rather nice too, but they’re more reserved with her. They’re musicians, like Harry, and they somewhat have that air of awareness around them that Harry sometimes gets. She thinks it’s from the fame, having to constantly be wary of who is around you, what everyone is doing, what is happening next. She doesn’t mind it, it’s just not something she’s used to.

She wishes she could just throw back some drinks and she could allow herself to be more...well just be more. More of a presence, more of herself, but she has a job she has to get to bright and early. Tomorrow was Monday and for her that meant work. So she sips a beer that Harry insisted be on his tab and she makes small talk with Charlotte’s boyfriend about how he’s been helping her produce her first EP. Charlotte occasionally pops in when she hears her name, but mostly is conversing with Mitch over something silly. Y/N knows because they keep laughing.  

Harry is going around to just about everyone in the party and she watches as he happily talks with every one of his friends. He’s ecstatic and she wonders if she’s ever experienced happiness like he has.

At midnight she attempts to make a French exit, as her mother always called it, and slip away with little to no farewells, but Harry spots her before she can.

“You’re leaving already?” Harry asks loudly, the euphoria of winning his silly little game and drinking a fair amount of pints has him at his peak boisterity.

“I have work tomorrow,” she says warily, slumping slightly from the weight of Harry’s arm slinging around her shoulder.

He turns serious and straightens up slightly, his green eyes looking especially dark in the pubs dim lighting as they look her dead in the eye. “Let me walk you home.”

“I can get home by myself,” she laughs, shrugging off his hold. “Plus, the host can’t leave his own celebration.” She gestures to everyone else happily celebrating on a Sunday, somehow not bothered by the beginning of the average week.

He steps closer, his brow furrowing for the first time that night. One of his large hands raises to his tousled hair and he runs it through the tresses. He even nibbles at his lower lip as he contemplates his decision. Then quickly and suddenly, he makes up his mind,

“No, I’ll escort you. Can’t have my neighbour walk home this late alone. I’ll just leave my card with Mitch. He’ll settle up the tab.” He smiles at his perfect plan and she grimaces feeling slightly embarrassed that he would leave his friends to walk her home. “Won’t you Mitch?” Harry calls as he grabs his coat from the wall next to the door. Mitch simply nods and Harry yells his farewells, Y/N waves meekly.

“That was...interesting,” she mulls over her words as they walk through the cold night air outside of the pub.

“Amazing, right?” Harry speaks over her less enthusiastic voice.

“You have a lot of friends,” she mused, trying to sound less disheartened than she had in her last statement.

Harry only hums and shivers slightly from the cold. His breath comes clearly out in puffs in the cold night air. Y/N’s is muffled by her scarf wrapped tightly up to her chin. She’s tucked his face as far into it as possible but her nose won’t stop from freezing as they walk.

Her hand goes up to it and she rests her palm to the tip of it. The motion grabs Harry’s attention and he looks directly at her curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m freezing,” she muffles out, “This helps my cold nose not be so..cold.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulder and she easily folds into him, welcoming any warmth right now.

After another moment of silence and them enjoying each other’s warmth and slight smell of whatever perfumes they had chosen earlier that night as well as beer and wood of the pub, Harry nuzzles his head above hers and then asks her something.

“Was that overwhelming for you?”

She’s quiet, thankful his eyes can’t reach hers right now. He was too powerful with those things.

“I, um, a little. I just...I just realized today that I haven’t made a new friend since college outside of work and it was overwhelming just hanging out with you. So all of your friends as well, yeah, it was a bit much for me.”

Harry looks out at the empty street ahead of them and sighs in realization. In his excitement, he hadn’t accounted how she might have felt tonight until just now. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of her feelings, but other’s feelings slipped his mind so easily sometimes.

They round their street corner and she nuzzles back into his side.

“I’m sorry, love.” He rubs at her outer arm, “I didn’t think about it like that. I was just so excited for my plan to come together. Maybe next time, it’ll just be a couple of them rather than so many?”

“Sure,” she says quickly, wanting to make him happy, knowing how much he cared about his friends. “I feel like we need to hang out more with just you before I osmos into your friend group though if I’m being honest.”

“Well that can definitely be arranged,” he says and reluctantly lets go of her body. They’ve arrived at her door.

“I also want to see the inside of your house at some point.” She tugs at one of his hands before it can disappear into his warm coat pocket. “Houses,” she corrects.

“That can also be arranged,” Harry smiles with his lips closed. Pink lips and rosy cheeks extra bright from the cold. He plays with her fingers as the two stand close to one another, happy for the alone time and chalking the proximity up to heat sharing.

“You leave tomorrow right?” She finally asks.

His head falls and he sighs.

“Yeah…”

“It’s just a month,” she smiles, trying to stop Harry from being so dramatic. Especially when there was no logical reason for him to be so upset over not seeing his neighbour - she keeps telling herself.

“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and just fly out with me?” He pleads.

She throws her head back in laughter and shifts closer to him, her front porch light illuminating and shadowing every perfect place on Harry’s gorgeous face.

“Not even a chance.”

“That is a shame,” he takes an experimental step closer and she feels his breath fan across her cheeks at his last word.

She wrinkles his nose at the smell of his last beer, even though coming from him it was endearing.

Just as she feels him being to shift his head closer, she steps forward and gives him a tight hug.

“Goodnight Harry,” she whispers into his ear, “Safe travels.”

Then she’s stepping back and swiftly unlocking her door. She moves it slowly so as to not wake Rori and then Harry’s left alone and dumbfounded on her doorstep.

He definitely preferred being with her alone, but now he didn’t even have that chance until next month. And nonetheless she had just sidestepped his kiss with such ease he’s not even sure if he meant to kiss her. It had felt right, but why? Because it was cold and picture perfect? Or because he was enchanted by her and liked her as more than a new friend?

She slumps in her kitchen and fixes an Emergen-C to stave off the chill of the night and any germs that might have been lurking around the pub. She hopes when she walks to her bedroom she can check the front porch and see that Harry has gone home because she would hate to turn the light off on him.

How could he have expected her to kiss him just then? They’ve only just met each other a few weeks ago? And he’s Harry Styles and she just lives in the neighbourhood. What the actual fuck had happened to her life?

[appledew]

Andi is all set!

Made for  Blshbker on Twitter!

Andi is made of Minky and custom dyed minky, and a tiny bit of short pile minky. There is a gingham patterned heart and has Birthday cake scented disc inside the plush from everyone’s favorite ursid-construction company! :) This plush stand at about 18 inches from the top of the head to the bottoms of the feet, 20 inches including the hair. The spots, feet and hand detailing, and face are appliqued and machine embroidered. The gradient on the base body is dyed on.

Andi is too cute! This little sweetheart took a bit out of me but it was totally worth it! *u *

The gradient on the back was quite a unique experience and more info on the can be found here!: https://ko-fi.com/i/ID1D8C6G7J This is something I plan on working on privately to iron (haha, pun) out some issues. One thing that does look a little obvious is the uneven dye. I’m not sure what exactly when wrong, but I’m assuming it has to do with the distribution of dye. Despite looking a bit uneven, I do really love the results! Especially since I actively avoid doing gradients on teddies. Its not something I’ll offer right away, but there may be changes in the future! :)

The pattern took little to no effort the change! I just elongated the neck a bit and resituated the arm slots! One things that didn’t pan out the way I wanted to was the hands. I was aiming to make them a little more tub like with the hooves coming in at a SLIGHT angle, but they came out a bit flat. :( They’re still pretty cute, and get the point across but I wish they would have been a bit different.

The embroidery was nothing too special, aside from a bit tedious! The embroidery took about 2 days of work, not to mention the time it took to make the files, but it was worth it! Unfortunately I skipped out on adding the cute little gradients on the spot since I couldn’t get proper color matches and transitions going. One small thing I wish I could have done was add, the blue-grey color transition to the back of Andi (the grey blue spots on the shoulder). Unfortunately I couldn’t figure out how to do it without absolutely eliminating a row of colors. and having to change the big warm purple spot to something else. Perhaps I was just over thinking it. ^^;

Moving on.. I did struggle a tiny bit color matching in general; the biggest culprits were the hooves and the green with the blue-ish tint color. I couldn’t get a neon-ee color dyed, specifically for the feet, as tempting as it was to look at overseas vendors of minky (not custom, just more options), I couldn’t justify the price and protentional months wait time. In the end, I like to believe that I made some at least... good choices for the colors. Oh! Back to the body! There was a slight oopsy when dyeing the gradient! some of the orange dye soaked into the yellow and stained it to be a yellow with a veeeeery slight orange tint. To be honest I rolled with it! I hoped that the other colors would balance it out, and it seems to have worked! In general, this little sweetheart came out warmer in color.

Aside from all that, Andi wasn’t too much trouble! There were some small hurdles that needed to be figured out, and I hope i jumped them all correctly! ^u ^

I’ve mentioned this once or twice, I’m absolutely LUCKY to have had a chance to bring Andi to life in teddy form and hope I did her justice! Qu Q My work space now smells like birthday cake, and I’m NOT complaining; she smells so good! <3

________

More intimate WIPs can be found on my Ko-fi!  :)  https://ko-fi.com/appledew

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AppleDew_

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/apple.dew

Tumblr: http://appledew.tumblr.com/

Furaffinity: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/appledew

deviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/appledew

[teddypoi-qd]

{ID - digital art, a timeline of Martin from The Magnus Archives, as his appearance changes with each major event/season. Each appearance has a series of notes surrounding it. As a rule, Martin’s hair is curly and starts off auburn brown before turning various shades of grey and white. There is a puff of hair on top that looks like a heart. His eyes start off dark blue, and become foggy grey. He is white and freckled, fat and drawn into himself, with rounded features.

S1 - Martin is wearing a bright yellow jumper with orange starbursts on i; it doesn't fully hide his chest. He has rounded glasses and messy, curly hair. He wears trousers with scuff marks on. He waves gently at someone offscreen, and holds a mug of tea in his other hand. He wears a trans flag badge, and a simple orange one, as well as a green lanyard that says "STAFF". He has the start of a beard. Notes - (pointing to hair) "Bird's nest" "Yeah I'm in my 30s! I know I don't look it; baby face!" "Charity shops love him!" (pointing to his chest) "Non-op (too expenny)" "Repairs his own clothes" "Children's TV presenter vibes"

S1 (archive livin') - His hair is slightly longer and messier, and he is wearing pyjamas. His pyjamas are a matched set; a blue shirt with paw prints on the chest, and a pair of blue boxers with dog faces on. His arms and legs are visible, showing a lot of body hair and two tattoos. On his left bicep is a black cog, and on the inside of his right thigh is a small spider. In one hand, he clutches a corkscrew. His left hand clutches fearfully onto his right arm. Notes - "Matching PJ set (from Sash)" "Mechs tattoo lol (Jon FREAKED out)" "No haircuts for lads in quarantine" "Is that a corkscrew in your pocket or- (it's a corkscrew)" (pointing to the spider) "Stick n' Poke from when he was like 16"

S2 - His hair remains long and messy, but he now looks generally more exhausted and tense. He is wearing a pink jumper with a small heart design on, and his trans pin. The jumper sits on top of a pink-grey shirt. He is also wearing purple-grey suit trousers. He still clutches onto his corkscrew. Notes - "SO tense SO jumpy" "Nearly stabbed Tim one time" "Dressing better (to impress Jon)"

S3 - His hair is shorter now and his outfit is more muted. He is also slightly fatter. He wears a thick green sweater vest and a grey-beige shirt with his suit trousers. He clutches a tape recorder in his hand. He looks incredibly sad, and his fists are clenched. Notes - "3AM sadness haircut" "Sad" "Putting on worry weight" "Tries to remain progessional despite it all (colours remind him of Jon), "Using 'Jon's' recorder"

S4 - A dramatic change for Martin; his hair is longer again, and cloudy grey. His glasses are clouded by fog, and he is looking stern and stubborn. His skin is much paler, and his freckles are faded. He is wearing a navy blue turtleneck and jeans. He holds a piece of paper in one hand, and a blue mug in the other. Behind him are soft blue clouds. Notes - "No more Mr Soft Boi" "Depression Hair Returns" ""Peter's evil, sure, but he's right about turtlenecks." Talking to a recorder" "Paler" (pointing to the paper) "5th Extinction statement of the week" "There's Red Bull (warm) in this mug" "Gets cold easily now" "Freckles fade" "Glasses fog up" "Mist & clouds help him leave unnoticed"

S5 (cottage) - A slight return to his season 1 design, but clearly changed. His hair is pale brown, and his skin has a little big more colour back to it. He is wearing a big blue jumper with pawprints on the arms and a dog's face on the front with text that says "PUP" in primary colours. He is also wearing a scarf striped with purple, magenta, and green. He is still wearing his jeans. He looks gently happy, but very tired. He doesn't wear his glasses. Tiny wisps of cloud hang around behind him. Notes - (pointing to the scarf) "Jon's scarf" "He refuses to see it" "A little colour comes back" "At least 3 layers on" "Convinced Jon he doesn't need gloves indoors" "the tiniest bit of hope" "Sad and tired but in love {heart}"

S5 (Kill Bill) - Martin has fallen back to the Lonely somewhat. His hair is almost entirely white, and his skin is pale again. He looks dangerously angry. He is wearing his S1 jumper with jeans, a brown trench coat, and Jon's scarf. He scowls, breathing out a puff of blue fog. Notes - "Clawing for a happy end" "He just wanted to be soft." "Peter was right about big coats too. Fuck." "Becomes more/less Lonely based on mood"

Doodles - Three goofy line doodles of Martin 1 - A tiny S5 Eyepocalypse Martin, his fists clenched and his eyes narrowed. He is screaming, "OI DICK'EAD" 2 - A S5 Cottage Martin, glasses off. An arrow pointing to him says, "His ass can't see shit" 3 - A doodle of S4 Martin that is transparent. He is making a peace sign and is being surrounded by clouds. A note next to him says, "Peace Out"

END ID}

i also. love him.

[yikesharringrove]

Hey, I'm really struggling with my depression and I was wondering if you could write a Harringrove for me? Maybe something warm and fluffy? Please and thank you.

"I really don't know about this, Bill," Steve said for what felt like the fiftieth time in the past few minutes.

"You just gotta trust me, Pretty Boy."

"Yeah, That's the fucking issue-" Steve's voice wavered on the last word as his footing slipped the tiniest bit on the narrow walkway. "Jesus. Jesus."

"We're almost there, you tiny little baby. And then you'll see that I'll never lead you astray."

"Nope. Not astray. Just to my certain death."

Billy laughed openly at Steve, his face red and pinched as he clung onto Billy's hand for dear life, taking tiny scooting steps forward along the path.

They were skirting along the ledge of the old water tower outside of town, and Steve was scared.

The tower was high and seemed rickety, like it could collapse at any moment. The large water tank was covered in years of graffiti by idiot kids like them, and the handrail that should've wound along the whole walkway was suspiciously gone in many areas. Billy said the vandal kids probably pushed it off. Steve was choosing to believe him and not keep telling himself that the thing rotted right off this huge metal deathtrap way up in the night sky.

"We just gotta get around to the other side, and you'll never doubt me again."

Steve was plastered to the water tank, scooting slowly along behind Billy, taking measured breaths and trying not to let his fear ruin the special little date night Billy had surprised Steve with.

It sounded so cute and romantic when put like that. That's why Steve frantically got dressed and dived into the Camaro when Billy knocked on his front door at half passed-ass o'clock in the morning.

But now Steve was heading towards the end of his life.

Being dragged right off the edge of an unsafe structure.

"A few more steps, Baby. C'mon. You'll love this."

He was most certainly not going to love this. Whatever Billy had in store for them, Steve was going to hate on principle.

They edged around the tank, until Billy suddenly stopped, and lowered himself to sit on the edge of the walkway, his legs dangling over the side.

"If this is some kinda 'til death do us part shit, I'm not-"

"Just sit down, Harrington. Fuck." Billy's bright smile gave away how not mad he actually was.

Steve sat down cautiously, keeping himself and his legs a good distance away from the edge.

Billy pulled something out of his pocket, and Steve has never been happier in his life to see an old beat-up plaid thermos, and to smell the coffee, kept hot and fresh in the inner pocket of Billy's jacket this whole time.

They shared the one small cup, taking sips of the milky coffee, Billy knowing Steve would rather die than drink his black.

"I came up here a lot when I first moved here. Before I started comin' round your place. When I got mad or just. Couldn't deal. Haven't been here in a bit, because now I'm always with you, but I thought. I want you to see it."

Billy was staring at his watch as to not have to look Steve in the eye as he spoke.

"That's very sweet, but this better be worth me shitting my pants up here for."

"I really didn't know you were so weird about heights. Sorry, Sugar."

He was laughing. Steve was scared out of his goddamn mind and was about ten seconds from pushing Billy off the edge, and he's laughing.

"You're the worst. You're the bane of my existence. The thorn in my side. Please don't ever speak to me again-"

Steve cut himself off.

Somewhere, in the back of his brain, he had noticed it getting lighter. The sky turning that weak grey it does, making everything look like it was black-and-white.

But this.

This was gold.

This was gold and yellow and green and blue and all the fucking colors Steve could ever imagine and moremoremore.

He's seen the sunrise before. But never from a place like this.

He can see all of Hawkins, sprawled out in front of them. The tiny little town full of government conspiracies and children with special mind powers and a brand new mall still under construction.

He can see the horizon. The slope of the Earth curving out in the distance, fields and flatlands and forests as far as the eye can see, leading his sight to the splash of colors in the east.

"Bill, oh my god."

"Told you. Told you."

Steve doesn't even know what Billy told him. He didn't know anything except for all these fucking colors, and the warmth of the sun as it began to unfold from beyond the horizon, and Billy's hand in his and-

"I love you."

Steve's eyes snapped away from those colors, right over to Billy's face, bather in gold and green and blue and orange and yellow. He looked so beautiful, like a piece of perfect art only Steve gets to see. Vulnerable and kind.

"I've never said that to anyone before. But, I mean it."

It was obvious he did. Sharing this amazing thing with Steve like it was all that mattered.

Like Steve was all that mattered.

"Fuck. Fuck, Bill. I love you. I love you so much."

He wrapped himself around Billy, no longer giving any kind of a fuck about the height of the tower.

Only caring about Billy and the warmth of the sun and the colors colors colors and I've never said that to anyone before.

[drabbleitout]

ROY G BIV Tag Game

Tagged by: @kaiusvnoir over here & @spacetimewraithwrites over here in this fun game to find all these colors in my wip!

Tagging: @zmwrites, @abalonetea, @winterandwords, @ashen-crest, @pertinax--loculos, @writeouswriter & anyone else who would like to join! (As always please don't feel pressured or rushed!) Tw: Language

Red

“Please? Please tell me he’s going to be okay?” She whimpered, clinging to the wire window when Beau turned to look at her. Her face was wet with tears, makeup running, eyes and nose red from crying. Her brain activity was off the chart. “He’s going to be okay.” Beau replicated the calm smile Lora always used. The mother drew in a shaking breath, hiccuping before giving a nod. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She attempted a smile, withering as more tears streamed from her eyes.

Orange

“Hi!” One of the girls called, dark, beaded braids flopping against her shoulders and bright orange bookbag as she hopped along the sidewalk. “Hello, wait there for a moment, please.” Beau held a hand down in case she lost her balance or wandered too close to the curb. He glanced again at the street. Tiny fingers wrapped around his, holding tight. Beau looked back down, finding the little girl standing beside him, waiting. Her braids rattled on her bag as she looked up at him, squinting in the sun. “My name’s Daniela, what’s yours?” She smiled, tiny teeth, tiny grip, tiny stature barely to his elbow. “My name is Beau. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yellow

The sky was warming into a brilliant warm shade, catching the edge of clouds in yellows and neon pink. There were still marks of grey, deep and dark, much like the shadows on Garnet’s face with the windows on the other side of the kitchen. The air was filled with the scent of brewed coffee, steaming from the expresso maker as Garnet warmed it on the stovetop. His face was as sharp as always, even in concentration, but for as long as his vitals suggested he’d been awake, there was still something unfocused about his stare. Softer. Not yet angry or defensive.

Green

[Beau] looked up from loading the washer, freezing as the small mammal gracefully leaped atop the neighboring table. Beau remained still, staring at the strangely colored cat. Upon a quick search, Beau realized the odd coloration of mostly black with blotches of white and orange was known as Calico. The cat perched itself on the table, elegantly wrapping its striped tail around its feet, staring with golden eyes. Beau focused on the green collar it wore. “You’re Gooty,” he announced proudly, knowing perfectly well Gooty could neither confirm nor deny, or even understand. “Hello, Gooty.”

Blue

Beau pulled himself from the man’s hold, turning to find a figure standing on the roof of the car, hunched, knees slightly bent, irises a bit too bright as they gaped straight at Beau. Blood dripped from their hands, splattered across the powder blue shirt of their postal service uniform. | Access ḑ̸̧̭̬͓͎͚͌͐͛̕͘ę̸̦̼͉̖̼̺͚̘͇͒͂̉͗͜n̴̞͌̄̂̑̽͑͊͊̈́͘ȉ̵͔̱̲͙̍͂͆̀̑̾͗̀́ḙ̷̡̨̙̯͕̿̾̀̄̎̕̚d̸̡̳̬̫̗̂̾̀͐͗͌͋̎̑͘͝͝ | “Beau, what do you got?” Ryker whispered. “Something’s wrong.” “Fucking understatement of the century!” the neighbor yelled.

Indigo

"Rip it open," Valetta chuckled. Pulling a little faster [Beau] tore the wrapping, pulling it off of a sealed case of some sort. It had a push-button lock, causing two flaps on the top to pop open. Lifting them carefully he found something small and grey inside. It had wings, shaped like a short, fat helicopter nestled in foam. DEVICE DETECTED CIBBI.2586 CONNECTING A light on its back came on, deep indigo and pulsing slowly. It whirred as if attempting to move, fan kicking on before making a series of beeps. Beau dropped the paper aside, carefully scooping into the foam to lift the small device out. Insect like legs wrapped around his hand, unfolding it's four wings looking something like a giant cicada.

Violet

Ives charged headlong into its side, ramming it off balance and effectively freeing Beau from the wall. It attempted to throw Ives off, grabbing for him only for him to catch it by the wrist. Beau coughed, a wet sputter, spitting TLN as his eyes danced open. The violet, viscous fluid acted hydrophobic, rolling and skipping across the surface of the sludge, gaining momentum as if being pulled towards the massive figure. The droplets bounced against its plating before disappearing between the cracks. “Holy shit. Ives! Ives, it’s after TLN! Get out of there!!”